Fifteen Years Ago - Senior year Harvey Milk High School  (age 17) New York City

Peter Helio had been friends with John Scott since they were in high school. Peter was tall, brunette and very muscular while John was a little shorter but a fit trim young man.  They spent hours together, whether it was in school where they had almost all the same classes, or outside of school where they often studied together and of course they were together when they practiced for the school's Rugby team. Peter wanted to work in advertising and John wanted to use his art in some capacity.  John was the first of the duo to admit he liked cock and Peter was unfazed as he told him he fantasized about it as well.  They spent many hours looking at Playgirl, using the airbrushed pictures to fuel their ongoing fantasies.

"You think those guys know that their pics are enjoyed by gay guys and straight women?" Peter had asked John one afternoon when they were in his bedroom flipping through the magazines they just picked up.

"I doubt it.  Come on there is so much homophobia out there that the idea doesn't even cross the model's mind." John broke out into peals of laughter.  "My sister reads these stupid romance novels.  I picked one up last week and just happened to see a stupid sex scene.  I swear if that is what straight sex is really like, I'm glad I'm gay.  Eating pussy just turns my stomach."

Peter made a face and scrunched his eyes closed as he said, "Eww gross," He looked again at the latest issue on the bed and said, "but going down on that guy would be awesome.  I bet he tastes fantastic." He pointed to the model whose cock he was recently admiring.

Looking at his friend as he traced his finger over the picture of a guy's cock and watching his tongue dart out to wet his lips, Peter couldn't help but touch John's cock, stroking it through the tight jeans.  John arched into the touch. They leaned in toward each other and their lips touched as they opened their mouths to taste each other.

The magazines were quickly forgotten and spilled out onto the floor.  They found themselves lying facing each other on Peter's bed.  Peter continued to stroke John's cock and then reached for his button, unbuttoning it and unzipping his pants.  He reached under the waistband of his friend's pants and found his very hard cock.  He ran his fingers over the slit, feeling the moisture that had formed there.  His friend's cock felt very different than his own; it was thick and smooth.  He stroked it a few more times as he heard John's breath quicken and before either of them knew what was happening, John shot his load over Peter's fingers.  

He pulled his hand out of the underwear and brought it to his mouth, tentatively tasting it. "Mmm, you taste great."

John leaned in toward his friend and kissed him tasting himself on his friend's tongue.  He unbuttoned Peter's jeans and pulled down the pants and underwear allowing his cock to spring free.  He licked his lips again and moved his mouth toward the cock.  Tentatively reaching out his tongue, he swiped a taste of the slit, groaning in ecstasy as he licked the precum that had leaked out.  Inhaling the unique scent of a man, he opened his mouth to engulf Peter's cock.  His tongue tasted the slightly salty shaft and he could feel himself getting hard again as his body reacted to the pheromones.  Ignoring his own body, he licked the cock and played with Peter's balls.  Before he was ready he felt Peter's cock jerk and then he came in a rush of spasms.  John swallowed all that he could and licked his mouth of any residue that he didn't swallow.

Neither young man said anything, but put their cocks back in their jeans.  They lay on the bed and regained their composure, waiting for their bodies to return to a restful state. They turned toward each other and smiled.

 "I can't wait to be old enough to go dancing and be around all those gorgeous guys at Stonewall.  I hear there is a room where you can have sex right there in the bar," John said with a dreamy look in his eye.  "You know what? I know a guy who can make us fake ID's. We can get in there now."

"Sex, right there in the bar.  Wow.  I guess for now we'll have to settle for this," he made a waving motion with his hand between their two bodies, alluding to their earlier activities.  "That would be cool, but the guys there are old.  I want to go someplace more hip." Peter remembered looking up gay bars on the Internet and seeing that the bouncers took any fake ID's and laughed in the guy's faces.  "Besides I don't think I want to do it with anyone who goes to dance clubs and bars.  I want a real boyfriend."

"Well, I guess when we turn 21 we can pick and choose where we want to go and pick up gorgeous men; after all we are two gorgeous men ourselves and we can have the cream of the crop,"  John said as he looked in the mirror, admiring his trim physique, giggling at his pun.

10 years ago (age 22)- New York City

"That was some party.  Did you see that guy dancing on the table? I'd do him in a minute," Peter said as they sat in the living room of the apartment they shared.

"Yeah, he was hot, but the party really got started when the guy came out to dance.  You know the one they hired for Tim, the birthday guy."

"I can't believe that Cal paid money to have a dancer for Tim's birthday.  That was some surprise," Peter said as he opened the beer he'd grabbed from the fridge.

"You're right. When that dancer came out everybody turned all their eyes on him and he really seemed to egg them on.  He's pretty talented.  I wonder if he has a day job; you know, boring office worker by day, stripper by night," John said as he developed a dreamy look in his eye.

4 years ago (28 years old) New York City

It was John's birthday next week and Peter wanted to give him something really special.  They'd known each other for over 15 years and he still remembered that day back in high school where they sat in his room looking at Playgirl and talking about the models.  They'd come a long way since then.  Peter was in a committed relationship with Michael and had been with him for over 3 years.  John had dated a lot of guys but hadn't found ‘the one' yet. 

John had recently lost his job and was looking for a new one; he'd had several interviews in the last several weeks, but nothing had come of them yet.  He was feeling a little down and Peter wanted to give him something special for his birthday.   Peter remembered how John had raved for weeks about the dancer at Tim's party several years ago and decided that would be the ultimate present for his friend. He called around and found a place called Dancing Beauties and based on several discussions with his friends he decided to hire someone for John.

The dancer would dance for 60 minutes and pay special attention to John.  Pictures were allowed and he could choose a theme.  He remembered John wondering if the guy dancers worked in mundane office jobs during the day and danced at night and decided that would be the perfect set up.  Since John loved art he might even have the guy have some brushes or other art supplies as props, working in a gallery or something. He was very excited about his present and knew his friend would love it.

He arranged for the event to be held at a small Italian restaurant, Pellicano's in Chelsea.  They could have a small room in the back and be away from the crowd.  The room closed off so it wouldn't interfere with the other patrons.  He invited 30 people, knowing that about 20 would be able to make it and thought this would be a great evening.  The night arrived and he had arranged to meet John at Pellicano's.  He told him they were going out to dinner so there weren't any surprises.  Tim and Cal, the friends who had inspired the present were invited and were joining them at the restaurant.  When he entered and many of their friends were seated in the room, he turned and kissed Peter, thanking him for the surprise.  Dinner was pleasant and people were lingering over coffee and conversation and John became slightly suspicious that there was more to the gathering.

Around 10:00 the doors were closed and the evening's entertainment arrived from Dancing Beauties.  He was a beautiful blond with a smile that could light up Manhattan.  He wasn't particularly muscular but he was gorgeous.  His alabaster skin shone under the light and his moves were evocative and sexual without being raucous.  He turned on his boom box and danced to several numbers, shedding clothing as he went. 

"I understand someone has a birthday.  28 years old.  Point him out so I can give him a special birthday present," Justin said, the sultry tones in his voice playing up the presentation.

All the men pointed to John, and Justin walked slowly towards him, running his hands down his torso and caressing his nipples and crotch as he went.  He sat on John's lap and preceded to do a lap dance there while he held his straight arms around his neck.  Looking into his eyes as if he were something special he lip synced the words to the song on the boom box.  He could feel John's erection pressing into him but he ignored it.  This was work and he never mixed work with real life.  Justin's eyes blinked often as numerous pictures of their ‘dance' were shot and he smiled into the camera when he could. 

After the lap dance, he pulled John out into the middle of the tables and waited for the next song to begin. The song was a thumpa thumpa dance number and he danced with the birthday man as well.  Justin received tips from all the men attending the party as they enjoyed the show and Peter gave him a $100 tip after the gig.  Overall it was a productive night. He made his usual fee of $150.00 and after the tips he brought home over $300.  Not bad for an hour of my time- two hours if you count travel.

The next day Peter brought over the pictures he'd taken at the party.  He'd also asked his friends to send John their pics as well.  All told, John had over 100 pictures of Justin dancing at his birthday. He looked at them often in the following months, sometimes dreaming that the dancer was really there for him. The pictures had a special place in his nightstand drawer, but over the months and years that followed they were taken out less and less and slowly forgotten.

Six months ago (age 32)-  New York City

John was working in New York at Graphic Design MMD.  He loved his job creating icons and designs for campaigns.  Living in New York he was able to feed his obsession with art and make a living.  He attended art shows as often as he could and was always thrilled to find a new artist.  He was eating lunch at Arturo's and overheard some patrons talking about a new show by Justin Taylor.  He listened to the diners and was interested in seeing the exhibit.  Evidently this was a fairly young artist who was represented by Carol Sing, a well-respected agent in the area.  He'd been to many exhibits from her artists and always enjoyed them.  She had a knack for seeing potential in raw talent.  He hadn't been to an opening in a while and this was a great opportunity to meet people.  He was between partners and knew that art shows were always a good place to pick up guys.  Well, truth be told he knew there were many places to pick up guys, but art shows brought out the artists and he always connected well with them.  The show was on Saturday, a few days away and he started to mentally go through his wardrobe deciding what to wear. 

John attended the art show and enjoyed it immensely.  The artist had real talent and evoked a number of emotions through the intensity of the colors and shapes in his paintings.  He found the titles very telling; titles often let the viewer inside the head of the artist.  He noticed a young man in a blazer with a pair of dark fitted slacks.  He wore no tie but had a boutonniere in his lapel and was frequently seen with Carol. That must be the artist .  He saw her introduce him to numerous people in the gallery and watched as he talked animatedly to the patrons.  This man was a delight.  He's talented and the patrons are eating him up.  

He walked over to the artist and tapped him on the shoulder.  Justin smiled at him.

"Hello.  Thank you for coming.  I hope you are enjoying yourself."

John smiled and answered, "Yes.  You are very talented.  I love the use of color and shapes in your work."

"Thank you.  I'm glad you find them interesting."  Justin saw Brian enter the room and smile at him.  He had expected Brian earlier in the evening but Brian had a last minute crisis at Kinnetik and had to catch the 6:00 pm plane instead of the 3:00.  He was thrilled that he made it to the opening.  Turning to John, he said, "I'm sorry but I have other patrons to greet." He left John and walked toward Brian, greeting him with his usual Sunshine smile.

John watched Justin as he greeted Brian and felt that he knew that smile; he'd seen it, but couldn't quite place where.  He stayed at the exhibit a little while longer, slightly despairing that he hadn't met anyone of promise there, but still pleased with the evening's entertainment.

As he rode the subway to his apartment he reviewed the night's events and it struck him where he'd seen the smile before.  When he got to his apartment, he opened his drawer and took out the envelope holding his pictures from that party a few years back.  As he looked at the picture of the dancer performing a lap dance on his lap, he recognized the artist from this evening.  His lap dancer was none other than Justin Taylor.

New York

John had looked at the pictures in his drawer every night and the more he saw them the more he wanted to see Justin.  Justin Taylor was the type of man that was meant for him.  He was a talented artist and he was good looking.  Each time he saw the pictures of him and Justin at his party he lost a little ground and begun to think of him as an old friend.  The evidence was obvious; he just had to look at the pictures.  A picture was worth a thousand words and he had at least a hundred pictures that attested to Justin's attraction to him. 

He didn't know how to get Justin to meet him, especially since Justin didn't even live in New York.  He'd read his bio from the art exhibit at least twenty times since that night a few weeks ago.

Justin Taylor is a highly talented young man.  He attended the Pittsburgh Institute of Fine Arts.  He first exhibited when he was in high school where his work was shown at a young artist's collection.  From there he showed at many student exhibits and in his senior year was written up in the Art Forum for his innovative work.  He has exhibited in New York at Apex, Tamarind and in Pittsburgh at the Sidney Bloom Gallery and Space, one of the newest galleries in the City.  His work can also be seen in the comic book Rage which he co-created and has illustrated since its inception.  He currently lives in Pittsburgh.

The more he read it the more he thought he knew Justin Taylor, making up an elaborate history based on the sketchy bio the show had provided.  He needed more and wanted to fill in the blanks.  He was a product of his generation and was very familiar with the Internet and used it to track down more information about Justin, learning that he attended St. James Academy.  He found the St. James yearbook online and read all he could about Justin Taylor, what clubs he was in, accomplishments etc.  He was impressed that he started a Gay/Lesbian alliance while in high school and thought he would have loved to have one of those in his high school when he was a teen. 

He saw a picture of him and a young African American Girl in the yearbook and discovered her name was Daphne Chanders.  He did a search on Daphne and found she was a local therapist in Pittsburgh. From there he located her office and phone number.  Lucky for him, therapists were listed in the yellow pages and were allowed to advertise.  He located a map of Pittsburgh and found where her office was and researched hotels near the area.  Booking himself a hotel for the following week, he was satisfied with his search for the evening.  He was going to go down to Pittsburgh in two weeks and hope that he could find more about Justin Taylor.  He needed to convince him to meet him.  Taking out one of the many pictures of him and Justin, he laid it on his desk as he masturbated to the scene.

Two Weeks later

John hadn't told Peter or any of his friends about his visit to Pittsburgh, something in his head told him they wouldn't understand.  With each passing day, he knew he had to see and meet Justin Taylor again.  If he couldn't get close to Justin, he would have to try some other measures to meet the man.

He told his boss that he had some family business to take care of and would be gone about a week.  In his mind, Justin was already family and this wasn't a lie.) The night before he left he had difficulty sleeping; he was so excited about meeting Justin and catching up on old times.  In the morning, he rented his car and made good time to Pittsburgh, checking in at the Marriott close to Daphne's office.  He'd brought several copies of the photos with him hoping to share them with Justin.  He staked out her office building from the Starbucks across the street.  It was late October and the weather was mild, no cold winds yet.  He sat at the outdoor table in the afternoon since it afforded a better view of the building.   About 4:30 he thought he spied Justin entering the building.  He couldn't believe his luck and thought to himself that his trip was definitely meant to be.  Justin stayed in the building for a long time but eventually, he came out and John watched as he walked toward the parking garage.  John didn't care too much about cars; living in New York, a car was rarely used unless you were leaving the area.  John had parked his car on the street, thankful that Pittsburgh had more places to keep cars than New York.  Quickly walking to his car, he waited for Justin to leave the garage, hoping that he could see into the window of a car and recognize the man. His luck continued and a few minutes later, Justin left the garage.

Following Justin home, he noted the address and decided that he shouldn't sit in his car to watch the house since it was a very quiet residential street.  He took a picture of the house, thinking of him and Justin living in the large home.  After several days of watching them, he followed Justin home again and was appalled to see the same brunette that had been at the show in New York drive up to Justin's home.  Justin was outside sketching as the day was unseasonably warm and greeted the man with a toe-curling kiss.  He lifted Justin's shirt up slightly and placed his hand underneath the hem.  Justin laughed and giggled and he recognized that bright brilliant smile he gave the man.  After the two men broke apart the tall man slapped Justin's butt and they joined hands and went inside. 

John was furious.  Justin was with another man.  How could he cheat on me?  He felt his heart race at the thought of Justin with another man.  His breath came in short bursts and he felt warm all over.  He needed to get Justin's attention, reminding him they were together.  Laying out all the pictures on his table in the hotel that night, he copied 5 of them and put them in an envelope with a short note.  Satisfied that this would bring Justin to his senses he decided to grab a drink at the bar and relax in the hot tub for a while.  Mailing the pictures and his evening activities relaxed him sufficiently to sleep that evening.

It was Friday morning and Peter had been there all week, without any success in talking to Justin.  Today he decided he needed to increase his efforts and started his day at Justin's home.  He was surprised when his friend Daphne drove up in her car at about 10:00 in the morning.  He watched as the two of them got in the car a few minutes later.  Following them in his car, he realized they were going to the mall.  Parking his car in the lot a few rows from them, he watched as they headed toward the entrance.  He entered the mall and followed them throughout the day, but neither of them appeared to take notice of the stranger.  After watching them all day and listening to the conversation at lunch, he knew that Justin and that man were a couple.

I have to get his attention.  Maybe if I asked for money it would get his attention and I could talk some sense into Justin.  I just needed to get Justin to spend time with me and then he would realize we're a perfect couple; John and Justin.  We've been together once; I have the pictures to prove it.  I need Justin to see the pictures, show him the truth.  Maybe I should mail them to his partner and his partner would leave.  Then we'd have a chance at being ‘the perfect couple.'  He felt a calm come over him now that he had a plan.  It made perfect sense that Justin would meet him and they'd be together.  He sent more pictures and another note.

The darkness outside added a hush to the quiet inside their home. Brian sat at his computer reading his last few emails from work and Justin was flipping channels on the 60 inch TV in the media room.  Justin's mind mulled over the conversation he and Daphne had at lunch rather than pay attention to the programming.

"Lots of my clients are off today and I could have been booked solid, but I haven't had a day off in months and since you just finished your show, I thought it'd be great to spend the time together," she said as they got out of the car at the mall.  "I just wanted some Justin time, you know, like when we were kids and carefree.  Well, the only thing we worried about was whether your mom or my mom would let us use the car."  She giggled at the memory of many ‘negotiations' with her mom to get said car for an extended period of time.

Justin smiled at his friend as he remembered.  "I'm glad my memory has mostly come back.  It really sucked there for a while," he said alluding to his car accident a few years back. 

"Me too.  It was really tough on every one when you couldn't remember your and Brian's relationship.  I don't ever remember him being so solicitous.  He even came to me for advice on how to help you remember.  Having you forget what the two of you had after you had worked so hard to get to that point was just devastating."

"We've talked a little about that time.  I'm so glad that he was there for me.  I don't know if I would have made the recovery I did if he hadn't spent so much time and effort on me."

"He loves you and he was finally ready to admit it.  I'm glad it worked out for you guys.  Brian Kinney may be a hard ass to the public, but when it comes to you, he will do anything to keep you happy."

Justin smiled and remembered how he pounded Brian into the mattress before he left to attend his meeting with Leo Brown.   Yep.  Few would imagine the stud of Liberty Avenue being on the receiving end. 

"Brian is special, but we are here to talk about us and enjoy each other.  No more talk of the Brian and Justin show."  He started to walk towards the mall, looking at the people and cars in the lot.

Cars pulled in and out of parking spaces and small children waiting for their parents to hold their hands and cross the lot.  A couple of teens were giggling with each other as they shared a bag of donuts.  The wind blew the trees at the edge of the lot.  It was a nondescript day in Pittsburgh, but in a car at the far end of the lot sat a man who watched Daphne and Justin.

She reached out and squeezed Justin's arm as she pointed toward the entrance to the mall.  They were quiet as they entered the mall and started walking toward  Old Navy since Justin had mentioned he wanted new jeans.

"I can't believe we've known each other for almost 23 years and we're still shopping at the mall together," Daphne said.  She giggled when Justin frowned at the mention of the number of years they'd been together.

"23 years is a long time, but I guess that's right since we met in Kindergarten.  "Who would have thought that 23 years later we'd still be best of friends?" Justin said as he turned into Old Navy.  "I know Brian hates me shopping here, but I see no reason to spend $200 on a pair of pants that I'm just going to get paint on.  I'll allow him to dress me in DIESEL jeans when we go out, but for every day Old Navy is just fine."  Justin picked up several pairs to try on and walked to the dressing room.  Daphne waited outside for him to come and ‘model' them.  He walked out a few minutes later and she smiled at him and nodded her head. 

"Looking good.  Shame those are for painting.  Brian does have the right idea when he dresses you."

"I'm almost 30. Brian does not dress me," Justin said with slight indignation.

"Uh huh," Daphne said.  "Next pair."

Justin tried on three more pairs of jeans and Daphne liked all of them. 

"Your body looks good in anything.  I'd buy all four."

"Nah.  I only need two.  I still have two pairs that are wearable."  He chose two of the pair of jeans and took them to the counter to check out. "Where to next?  Didn't you say something about Bath and Body Works for some candles?"

"Yes.  I like to have candles or reeds for my office.  The scent is a very strong relaxer."

They went to Bath and Body Works and bought five bottles of scented reeds and a few bottles of lotion.  Then they made their way to Hot Topic and browsed there for a while.  They walked on the upper level of the mall and popped into a few shops and then Justin's stomach growled.

"Some things have not changed in 23 years.  Your stomach still demands to be fed every few hours.  I swear I do not know how you stay in such good shape."

"I get lots of exercise," Justin said with a smirk on his face.

"Please.  I do not want to hear about your sex life, especially since mine is nonexistent at the moment."

"I can't help it that you broke up with Greg.  He seemed like a good guy."

"We didn't really break up as much as we're taking a break.  I'm ready to settle down and he's not sure."

"Wow.  I never thought I'd be the one in the stable long term relationship."

"Me either, but you have Brian and well, Brian is...."

Justin waited a few moments for Daphne to finish her statement but she was silent.  He didn't feel the need to put a word in the blank, as they both knew that Brian and Justin's relationship was unique.  Daphne came closest to understanding it, but even she did not garner the full picture. 

"Let's go to Max and Erma's. They have great burgers," Justin finally said when he realized that neither he nor Daphne was going to comment on the earlier statement. 

They walked toward the restaurant and put their packages at their feet.  Looking at the menu, Justin waved toward the waiter to signal he was ready.

"I'll have the Bacon Cheeseburger and fries and a large Coke," Justin said.

"I'll have the Black Bean Rollups and a Coke," Daphne said.

 "So you and Brian going to Debbie's for Thanksgiving?"

"Probably, but we might go to mom's this year too. I almost have Brian agreeing to spend some time with my mom.  Now that Molly is living in France; it's just her and Tucker. Two people is a really small Thanksgiving and as much as Brian says he hates the holidays, he does enjoy the get together."

"Who would have thunk Brian Kinney enjoying family meals?" she said in a mock teasing voice.  She brought up her hand to her mouth, pretending surprise.

"True.  When I first met him 10 years ago, he begrudgingly went to Debbie's for holidays and often that was an excuse to see Gus.  Now Gus is a big part of our lives and he doesn't gripe, well not much," Justin said as he thought of their planned outing to the zoo with Gus on Saturday.

"I'm sure she could go to Debbie's," Daphne said as she brought the conversation back to the original question.  She unrolled her silverware and placed the napkin in her lap.

"Oh, Deb's invited her, but I don't know.  Our group is a little much at times. At least Thanksgiving is a little calmer than Christmas with the singing elves that drop their pants in the front yard."  Justin giggled as he pictured the scene in his head.

The same man from the parking lot came into the restaurant and was seated a few tables away.  He watched the two of them as they talked animatedly and was ecstatic that the waitress didn't balk when he stated he wanted to be seated in their section. Pretending to read the paper he bought on the way in; he eavesdropped on their conversation and learned that Justin was with a man named Brian and that they'd been together for a long time.  Brian sounded like a real pain; his plan to get Justin back was pushed to the forefront.  Justin deserves a man like me.  I appreciate my family and would never balk at spending time with them, especially during the holidays.

Daphne giggled. "Yeah, that's true. We all love Debbie, but she can be over the top."  She took a drink from her water glass and watched the other patrons.  She looked at Justin who was watching a same-sex couple with a small child at their table.  They were taking turns coloring with the little boy and handing him cheerios.  The interest Justin showed in the little boy was intense.

"Do you ever think of being a father?"

Justin heard the word father and had to rewind the question in his head before answering.

"Uh, I'm Gus' dad."

"It's great that you feel so close to him, but I'm talking about being a father to your own child."

"No," Justin answered quickly and played with his silverware for a moment before looking longingly at the couple again.

"You're not fooling me, Justin Taylor.  I see the way you are looking at that little boy and his parents.  And I know you consider Gus your son, but he's not your child.  And you're not raising him full time, Mel and Lindsay are."

"I don't think it's in the cards, Daph.  I'm back and forth between here and New York.  I travel for shows and we're too busy."

"Lots of people travel for their jobs.  If you want a child, your job shouldn't stop you."

"I don't know.  I really don't think it's a good time.  My career is taking off and even if I wanted one, I don't think Brian would go for it.  He's made it really clear that children aren't in his life plan."

"He's made a lot of things clear that aren't in his life plan, and I think he's changed most of those from the time he met you... Just think about it Justin before you decide against anything."

"Ok.  But I really don't think I'll change my mind.  A child is a huge responsibility.  There are days I can't even take care of myself."

Their food arrived and the conversation turned to plans for upcoming holidays and ways to convince Brian to go to Jennifer's.  It was after 2:00 when they left the restaurant and returned to Daphne's car. 

"I'll take you home.  Even though I'm not working today, I should check my messages and I have a few errands to run before I meet with Greg."  She blushed a little when she said his name.

"You liar.  You're really not broken up with him.  What gives?"

"I told you.  We're working on things, but I really like him; probably love him."

"Yee-haw.  Maybe you'll be the one with the baby, not me.  I can be Uncle Justin."

Daphne hit him on the arm and he winced slightly as he laughed at their antics.

"I'll see you at Thanksgiving.  Debbie invited me and my parents are out of town so I'll be stopping by."

___________________________________

"Ok."  He got out of the car and walked to the front door of the house.  He looked at the house.  There really is plenty of room for a child here.  He shook his head and decided he was foolish and went to his bedroom to change into his new painting jeans before going to his studio to take advantage of the few hours of sunlight left. 

Justin's career had taken off once he returned to Pittsburgh, a fact that did not escape either man.  Brian had been so concerned that Justin would be ruining his career before he even got started if he returned to Britin and Justin was just as adamant that he couldn't paint in New York.  After Justin's car accident, Brian wanted to keep Justin close by and reluctantly had agreed to let him try and paint in Pittsburgh.  That had been 3 years ago and Justin made several trips to New York each month and spent a week there every few months to keep up to date on the art scene.  Carol, his agent was pleased with the arrangements, despite her initial trepidation.  Justin's shows were always successful and he was becoming an artist that needed little advertising for his work.  And to his credit, he had kept up the agreement they had made early in his career, to come to New York regularly and be seen in the art circles.

After Brian finished his work he came over to the couch.

"I found our copy of  The Hobbit. Thought it would be a good idea to watch it again since we're seeing the next installment in a few weeks."

Michael had bought tickets for the new movie and had splurged by getting them in the VIP lounge at the local cinema.  They would be treated like celebrities, their food and drink orders were taken right there in the room and delivered to them while they watched the movie in a small intimate theatre set up for just 40 people.  Justin wasn't sure who was looking forward to it more; Brian or Michael.  He'd watch the Brian and Mikey show often enough to understand that they both loved the genre, but Brian would never admit to his indulgence.  He'd played along with the notion of VIP treatment and seeing the new movie in a special setting, but Justin knew he was as excited about it as Michael.

Justin found the first movie entertaining, but he tired of the endless conversations Michael had with Brian regarding the genre.  He didn't truly understand how Brian who was the owner of one of the largest boutique advertising companies in Pittsburgh could be so interested in endless discussions about sci-fi movies.  He liked action movies and anime.  The art alone could keep his attention for hours even if the plot sucked.  But Justin had been witness to more than one discussion of the merits which Star Wars movie or which Star Trek movie was the best.  To him, they were both fun movies, but he failed to see the fascination of either universe nor could he see watching them over and over like Michael obviously did.  He decided long ago that Michael's fanaticism with comics lead him to Science Fiction and it was an early bond between him and Brian.  Brian, he thought, had outgrown the love of comics but he still liked Science Fiction. It was one of the ways that appeared to cement their relationship and while they had both left their childhood fascination behind, their friendship was still solid.  Justin had his friendship with Daphne and while their worlds had veered in different directions, he couldn't imagine leaving her in the rift behind. He imagined Brian felt that way about Michael, too.  Therefore he just smiled when the mention of the latest Avenger or Star Wars or Star Trek movie was brought into the conversation and readied himself to watch another movie with great graphics. 

After the movie ended, Brian put the disc back in the plastic box and shelved it on the bookcase. 

"I'm going to take a shower.  Want to join me?" Brian said as he headed toward the staircase.

"I'll be right up.  I have to send Carol an email before tomorrow.  I forgot I promised her I would take care of it this afternoon."

"Ok.  I'll warm up the shower for you."

Justin watched Brian walk up the stairs, admiring his ass and still trim body.  Brian watched everything he ate and religiously worked out.  He was just as enticing to Justin as he was the first night on Liberty Avenue.  Justin felt himself get hard as he remembered that night and Brian's promise to keep the water warm.  He hurried to his office, booting up the computer to send the requisite email.

As the computer booted up, he glanced over at the mail sitting in the bin.  There was an envelope addressed to him with no return address.  He didn't get a lot of mail and was curious who would be sending him such a large envelope.  Grabbing the letter opener, he slit open the envelope and peered inside.  Taking out the contents, he found several pictures of himself in various stages of undress in a tuxedo shirt. There was a small computer written note inside as well. It read, "I'll be in touch".

A cold chill ran through Justin's body as he dropped the note and sat unable to move. 

Fear gripped Justin.  His life was going so well and now his bad decisions were coming back to haunt him, again.  He'd stopped painting shortly after the accident, fearing that his agent would drop him when they found out about his exotic dancing, but Carol had assured him it was not an issue. After Brian had taken him to New York to meet with Carol, he'd thrown himself into his painting and had become a well- known and respected artist. 

He wondered what this meant for his career, his relationship and his family.  Shit! Carol had assured me that many artists support themselves with similar activities, but I wonder how many of those artists actually make it in the art world.  I can see it now, those pictures or similar ones would be all over the internet in a matter of hours.  I won't be able to walk down the street without feeling like everyone is looking at me.  I wonder if she would still be willing to represent an artist whose picture is all over the internet and the tabloids. 

Brian.  How do I handle this with Brian? He knows about the exotic dancing, but we really haven't talked about it and the ramifications of it.  He convinced me it wouldn't make a difference to my career and got me painting again, but when he sees these pictures..... What if they go public?  He'll be the laughing stock of the community.  His business will be forfeit.  What have I done?

And then there is the issue of a child.  Even if everything else can be swept under a rug, someday said child will grow up.  I can't protect him/her from finding out about the stripping. Things have been going so well and Daphne's comment at lunch wasn't that far off.  I'd actually been thinking of bringing the subject of a child up with Brian.  How could I be so stupid?  How could I ever explain to a child that I used to be a paid stripper?  I can see it now.  Well, I was too proud to ask your dad for money so I thought this was an easy way to make money and support myself.  How stupid of me to think that I could have a semi-normal life.  Tears started falling down his cheeks as Justin mourned a life he was destined not to enjoy. 

In the background, he heard the shower go off and realized he'd been downstairs for a very long time. Brian would wonder what happened to him and he wasn't ready to tell him about the envelope.  He quickly put the note and picture back in the large envelope and took it to his studio where he placed it under some books.  Brian never came in his studio and he decided they were safe there.  Returning to the library, he quickly sent off the email to Carol and shut down the computer.  Washing his face in the hall bathroom, he took a few deep breaths and went upstairs.

"Looks like you took a quick shower.  It took me longer than I thought.  I'm going to grab a quick shower and I'll join you," Justin yelled out as he walked into the room, shedding his clothes as he made his way to the bathroom. 

Turning the water on and adjusting the temperature, he took a quick shower and tried to calm his mind and body before joining Brian. Brian had a full plate at Kinnetik and he didn't want to let on anything about the note.  He wanted to deal with the situation himself.  He was, after all, almost 30, as Daphne had pointed out so poignantly this afternoon.  This afternoon seemed so far away and he wished for the carefree days of his youth when all he had to worry about was getting the car for the evening.

He finished his shower and dried off, hanging the towel to dry on the rack.  He got ready for bed and went to join Brian.  Brian was already softly snoring and had given Justin just the reprieve he needed.  For once Justin was thankful for Brian's hectic schedule and the late nights he'd been putting in lately.  Justin shut off the light by the bedside and closed his eyes, willing his mind to shut down and his body to sleep, but it was well after 3:00 am before exhaustion took over and he fell asleep.

Brian was up with the alarm at 6:30 and he rolled over to kiss Justin.  The exhaustion Justin felt from his restless night took over and he pushed Brian away and buried his head under the pillow.  Brian laughed but left him alone.  He had an early meeting this morning and wanted to talk to Ted before he met with the client.

He dressed quietly and gave Justin a kiss before leaving the room. Grabbing a cup of coffee from the automatic coffee maker in the kitchen, he took a few moments to look at the paper and then left for Pittsburgh. 

Justin woke at 10:00 in the morning and his memories from the night before came flooding back. He washed up, dressed and then made his way to his studio where he pulled out the envelope and took out the contents again.  He stared at the pictures, looking closely to see if by chance they were photoshopped, but they were genuine.  It was him in all his glory.  He took out the note again and reread it several times.  I'll be in touch.  What did that mean?  Did Justin have an admirer, a stalker or worse a blackmailer?  I've got money to pay someone off, but will it make it go away?  Oh, Shit!! I'm so screwed.  Maybe they just want to meet me.

The phone rang pulling Justin out of his reverie and he placed the pictures on top of a pile of papers on his desk. 

"Justin.  I'm glad I caught you.  I know it's inconvenient, but can you bring me the papers on top of my desk.  I left them there this morning and I need them for my afternoon conference call.  Normally, I'd come home at lunch and get them but I've got a meeting with Julie from Targus at lunch," Brian said as he sighed in relief that he caught his partner.

"Sure.  I can bring them down.  I've got to go into the city to pick up some supplies.  I'll see you in a little while." 

Justin went into Brian's office and found the papers he wanted.  He placed them by the door and gathered his wallet, keys, and phone before leaving the house.  Glad for the distraction he couldn't stop thinking about the photos and note.  He took several deep breaths and willed his voice to stay calm when he exited his car and made his way into Kinnetik.

"Hi Cynthia," he said as he greeted his longtime friend and his partner's right-hand man.  "I brought the papers he wanted. He busy?"

"Thank goodness you found them.  He's been a bear all morning.  Didn't get his morning ‘coffee'?" she said in jest.

Justin blushed at Cynthia's innuendo but didn't say anything. 

"He's in a conference so you can't go in.  He should be done in about 15 minutes if you want to wait." She pointed to the chairs opposite her desk.

Shaking his head, Justin said, "No thanks.  I've got a bunch of errands to run in town and then I have to go over to the gallery.  I'll catch him later."  Justin turned around quickly and left the building.

Cynthia looked at his fleeing figure and wondered what was wrong.  No matter how many things Justin had on his plate, he always stayed to at least get a toe curling kiss from her boss.  She hoped he was just truly busy and that nothing was wrong.  When Brian came out twenty minutes later, she handed him the paperwork.

Looking around, he asked, "Where's Justin?"

"Gone.  Said he had some errands to run and then had to get to the gallery," she said and shrugged her shoulders.

Brian noted his partner's absence but didn't have time to worry about him as he had to review the papers that Justin had brought him.  He met with Julie at lunchtime and then had another meeting in the afternoon with a potential new client.  He finished up around 6:30 and drove home. 

Justin often cooked their evening meal and Brian was hoping to have the smell of food greet him when he entered their home.  Instead, he was met with an eerie quiet which meant Justin was in his studio creating.  He didn't go to the studio as they had an understanding that when he was there he wasn't to be disturbed. The only exception was if it was after 2:00 in the morning and then Brian was allowed to drag him to bed. 

Brian went to the kitchen to make himself a sandwich from the leftovers in the fridge.  He was thankful that Justin was one of those people who actually believed in keeping leftovers rather than throwing them out or giving them to the dogs.  He would eat leftovers the next day or two but with Justin around, there was little worry that leftover food would last longer than that amount of time. 

Justin sat in his studio staring at the canvas, unable to paint, unable to think beyond a jumble of half-thoughts. He remembered several years ago, right after his accident when he experienced the same feelings. He knew if he painted it would never amount to anything since the critics would uncover his secret and cancel his show before he could even begin to make an impression.  The saying "better have loved and lost than never loved at all" didn't bode well with him.  He would rather not have ever experienced the love of creation, the power of his painting than to have it all taken away from him.  There was no reason to paint since his fear of discovery had come true.  He should have never let Brian and Carol talk him into painting again. He was right to fear his decisions would come back to haunt him.  But now, they were more dangerous than before.  He wanted more out of life and now he was stuck with a shadow of a career, all because he wanted to be independent.  He wished he could wave a magic wand and turn back time, but alas he knew that even now that was not possible and he again had to face his demons. It was time to pay the price and he shed silent tears for the life he would not live.

Time didn't register in Justin's mind and darkness came enveloping the room.  He sat in the darkness and quiet with his swirling thoughts trying to figure out what he would do next.  He half hoped that if he paid the stalker a large sum of money, all the pictures would be his and he would be finished with the whole affair. 

Brian walked by Justin's studio and didn't see a light or hear any movement.  Walking upstairs, he hoped to find his partner in their bed. He remembered that Justin told Cynthia he had some errands to run and didn't stay this morning.  He also recalled that Justin brushed him off this morning. Brian's internal alarms began to sound and he quickly climbed the last steps and hurriedly went to their room hoping to find Justin there. Their room was dark and the bathroom was empty.  It was dark outside and Brian didn't think Justin would be walking the grounds.  Brian felt his heart beating in his chest as fear gripped it.  Practically running down the steps he opened the door to the garage to verify that Justin's car was there.  He thought he remembered it being there when he pulled in, but he wanted to be sure his mind wasn't mistaken.  Justin's car was there and his keys were on the ring outside the mudroom where they always left them.

Where the hell was Justin?  

"Justin!  Justin!" he yelled as he frantically checked the media room and the library as well as the study downstairs.  He continued to yell his name as he checked the three bedrooms and two guestrooms in the upstairs.  Breaking the rules, he opened the door to his studio, frantic with worry and hoping that he would find him there.

Justin sat on the floor, back against the wall, staring into space and looked up at Brian when he burst through the door.

"What are you doing in the dark?" Brian asked as he looked at Justin sitting on the floor.  He took in the drawn shades, the lack of art supplies and the look of surprise on Justin's face when he opened the door.  While his heart slowed a bit after finding Justin, the alarms in his head continued to ring loud.  

Justin didn't answer him, just continued to stare into space.  Brian touched him, hoping his touch would garner some response but it did not.  He felt his forehead and it was cool to the touch, Justin wasn't sick or least not physically.

Brian walked back into the hallway and called Daphne.

"I need you right now," he said, foregoing the pleasantries of a conversation.

"Is Justin okay?  Did something happen?"

"Just come."

"Okay," Daphne said as she looked at the phone.  The last time Brian had called her and sounded like this Justin had been in a car accident and lost his memory.  As a trained professional, she knew that repeated blows to the head resulted in cumulative problems.  She hoped nothing that severe had occurred but it wasn't like Brian to demand her presence.  She called Greg to cancel their date and drove to Britin in record time.

Brian attempted to get Justin to answer or respond to him but he remained quiet, apparently in his own world.  He went up and down the stairs willing Daphne to arrive soon, hoping her training would help unravel this mystery.

As soon as he saw the headlights of her car, he opened the front door and waited impatiently for her to get out of the car.

"What's going on, Brian?" she said as he opened the car door for her.

"It's Justin.  He's just sitting in his studio in the dark and won't respond to me.  He's been odd since he came home yesterday.  Did something happen while you two were playing Bobbsey Twins?"

She looked at Brian and wondered if their conversation yesterday at lunch would cause Justin to shut down.  She decided it wouldn't and didn't say anything about the topic of fatherhood. Something else was causing this.

"No.  I don't think so.  We talked about a lot of things but nothing that would cause him to shut down.  Did you guys have a fight or something?"

"No."

They didn't want to startle Justin even though he wasn't really acknowledging their presence so they turned on the light in the hallway and walked toward him.  In his hand, he held an envelope.  It was addressed to Justin, but there was an envelope on the table addressed to Brian and it was open.  It wasn't like Justin to open Brian's mail and he felt his heart pounding even more.  He picked up the envelope and peered inside.  Pulling out the pictures and the note, he gasped.

In the envelope addressed to him, the note read He's mine.  See how good we are together."  Brian slammed down the pictures and the notes.  "Fuck.  Fuck. Fuck."

Daphne picked up the envelopes and notes and quickly read them.  "Shit!  What are we going to do?"

TBC 

Friday Pittsburgh

~ John's POV ~

During lunch he had listened carefully to Justin and his friend Daphne's conversation.  The waitress had conveniently placed him near their table and there were so many patrons in the restaurant, neither of them paid him any attention.  They mentioned several times the name of the man who was with Justin, Brian Kinney. 

He didn't think there were too many Brian Kinney's in the area and did a little research on the Internet on him back at his hotel.  Much to his dismay, he found that Brian was none other than the owner of Kinnetik, a premier boutique advertising agency in Pittsburgh.  He had heard about Brian Kinney and Kinnetik, he hadn't even thought to connect Justin to him.  As a graphic designer, he'd seen a few campaigns that Kinnetik had created; he'd even thought about applying for work there if he ever lost his job in New York.  While living in Pittsburgh was not ideal, the chance to work in an agency like Kinnetik would be fantastic.  He would miss New York, but moving to Pittsburgh to be closer to Justin would make sense.  After all, a long distance relationship is difficult to sustain.

Deciding that it wouldn't hurt to see if they were hiring, he found Kinnetik's web site and clicked on the Career tab.  The information stated that they were always looking for talent and anyone was welcome to send a short resume and a link to their online portfolio.  As an artist, John always kept his portfolio up to date and quickly applied for any future openings.  Satisfied that this was a logical step in his reunion with Justin, he went to bed.

Saturday was his last day in Pittsburgh.  As much as he hated to do so, he decided he should do a little sightseeing in case his colleagues and Peter asked him about his trip.  He'd told his boss he had some family business to attend to but he told Peter he had a business trip to Pittsburgh.  Peter didn't question the last minute trip as this frequently happened in his job.  He just urged John to do a little site-seeing and enjoy himself.  As Peter was John's best friend, he wanted him to think he had done just as Peter had suggested. 

He dutifully took his camera and took a tour of the city hitting all the key sites.  He took a ride on the incline and then spent a few hours at the <i> Andy Warhol</i> museum.  He walked around downtown and looked at the buildings and spent the remainder of the afternoon at the Strip district.  Since it was his last night in Pittsburgh, he decided to go to a bar and enjoy the thumpa thumpa of the music and maybe pick up a trick.

He showered and dressed carefully in a tight fitting pair of jeans and a low V-cut deep blue shirt.  Checking out his attire in the mirror, he felt good and was glad that he hit the gym at least four times every week, but usually five. He was still hot and often turned heads in New York.  He knew he could pick up anyone he wanted.  He grabbed his phone, wallet and key card, walked to the curb and grabbed a cab to Liberty Avenue. 

He felt like he stepped into Soho West except a little quieter.  While the streets were cordoned off, the traffic was lighter here and for the first time on his trip, he felt at home.  Couples walked the street holding hands and showing PDA's without hesitation.  There were the requisite trannies and Drag Queens and a few outright solicitations, but for the most part, it was like a giant block party with people spilling out from multiple bars along the street.  He tried Meathook first but didn't like the leather scene too much so he only stayed for a drink.  After leaving and walking away down the street, he sat down at an outdoor table since it was unseasonably warm for November. 

He noticed a street light across from a busy club and watched as couples met there and went on for their evening.  It appeared to have a strange magnetism.  A guy would stop at the street light, lean against it and search the streets, but within moments another man would come by, smile and the two people would go off in a new direction.  He watched this play out several times and wondered about the street lamp. 

The streets were filled with couples everywhere and he allowed his mind to drift picturing him and Justin walking along these same streets holding hands and greeting their friends in the neighborhood.  The blare of music from a club down the street caught his ear and saw that many of the men were headed in that direction.  Motioning for his check, he paid for his drink and followed the other men as they walked toward Babylon.  He almost felt like the club was the Pied Piper, the men appeared mesmerized by the music and the familiar thumpa thumpa, as if the music drew them to the door.  There was a long line in front of the club, but the bouncers moved it quickly and he was soon inside. 

Ordering a drink, he turned toward the dance floor and watched the Go-Go dancers as they gyrated to the music and the patrons stuffed dollar bills in their almost non-existent jock straps. He looked at the men, they ranged from young fit men who danced with their shirts off and their muscles rippling to older men who still appeared fit but chose to keep more to the imagination.  He was young and fit and could easily pull off the shirtless look, but decided he enjoyed watching and maybe would take off his shirt if he went to the back room, thus providing a show for one rather than a show for all.

He thought about Justin and his dancing.  He didn't think he would like Justin dancing, showing other men his beautiful body.  <i> That Brian Kinney is not really right for Justin.  He must not care much for him if he allowed him to dance; all those men, touching him and soliciting him.  Justin made the right decision to stop dancing, but I don't understand why he is with Brian.  I remember Justin and his friend Daphne talking about an accident and his memory.  He must not remember us. I'm so glad I found him so that I can help him recover his true memory.</i> 

He was drinking his beer and a young man came up to him, offering to dance.  He looked at the young man, dressed a little too nelly for his taste in tangerine pants and a cut off top, but he had a great body and accepted.  The man was a unique dancer and often danced with his hand in the air as he twirled, but John didn't care.  He allowed himself to forget about Justin and his quest to reunite with his true love and immersed himself in the evening's entertainment.  After several dances and a few beers, John extended an invitation to the man to the back room.  Never one to say no to a trick, Emmett readily agreed and followed John back to the curtained and dark area.

John kissed Emmett for a bit and then unzipped the offending tangerine pants, sticking his hands down the front.  Finding Emmett's hard cock there, he stroked it until he felt the familiar wetness on his fingers.  He pulled down the pants till they dropped to the ground and found the lube in his own pocket.  He turned Emmett around, prepared him swiftly, put on a condom, and then plunged into the Nelly bottom.   

"Oh yeah, right there," Emmett said enthusiastically.  Emmett pushed back on John's cock driving it further into the tight channel.

John pushed into Emmett and grabbed Emmett's cock, stroking it in time with the thrusting of his hips.

Both men were lost in the moment rushing to the finish of a race as old as time.  The only question was who would get to the finish line first or would they arrive at the same moment.  John sped up as he heard Emmett's short breathy moans and soon he felt the spasming channel around his cock and Emmett's pulsing cock in his hand.  He shot his load into the condom and pulled out soon after catching his breath. 

"Lordy, that was... wow..."  Emmett said as he pulled up his pants and tucked himself back in.  "Anytime you want a repeat, you just let me know, sugar."  He smiled his toothy grin at John and hoped he made a good impression as he hadn't had a good bang like that it a while.  "What's your name?  I don't think I caught it."

"John.  John Scott."

"John Scott, I'm Emmett Honeycutt.  May I buy you a drink?" He held out his hand to shake John's.  "You from around here?"

"Thanks for the offer, but I have to get going.  I'm actually from New York but hope to be back in the area soon." Emmett nodded at John's information. 

"Well.  Sorry to hear that you're leaving, but if you're in town again, look me up.  I'm here most nights.  Most people know me so if you just ask, they can point you my way."  Emmett felt in his pocket for his phone, hoping to exchange numbers but when he fished it out, John was gone.

Emmett shrugged and made his way out of the back room and went searching for his friends.  He couldn't wait to share with them his latest adventure. 

John took a cab back to his hotel and went to his room.  Taking out the pictures of Justin he smiled and calm came over his body.  Tonight was fun, but he belonged with Justin.  They were meant to be together and soon they would be.  He'd set the wheels in motion by his actions this week.  He was hoping that he'd be given an opportunity to work for Kinnetik and to convince Kinney that he was wrong for Justin.  If that didn't work, he had other ideas of how to get to Justin and help him remember their partnership.  It was only a matter of time until they were together.  He showered, packed his clothes and then went to sleep, dreaming of Justin Taylor by his side.

In the morning he checked out and drove back to New York. He returned the rental car and took a cab back home, he was anxious to see all the pictures he'd taken while in Pittsburgh, thrilled that he had taken so many of Justin. He uploaded all of them to his computer. He stared at the home Justin lived in and again his mind wandered to a fantasy world where he shared said home with him.  His phone rang about 9:00 p.m. 

"Hello," John said as he looked at the caller I.D. 

"How was your trip?" Peter asked.

"Good.  I went on the incline and to the Andy Warhol Museum.  He was such a talented artist."

"Glad you had a good time.  Let's get together for drinks tomorrow.  I missed you."

"Sure.  I'm sure I'll be busy at work, got to catch the boss up on the trip, but I should be able to meet around 8:00." The words came so easily to John, not even stumbling over the lies and deception he'd told people about the trip.

"Sounds good.  See you then," Peter said.

Peter put down his phone and walked into the bedroom where his partner of almost six years was reading the paper.  Sitting on the bed, he leaned in and gave him a kiss.

"What is that for?"

"Can't I just kiss you?"

 "Of course, but I know that look. What's up?"

"There's something going on with John.  I got a call from his sister, Kelly, the other day.  She was trying to reach him to tell him about the surprise party for his dad in a few weeks.  When she couldn't reach him, she tried his work."  Peter twisted his hands like Lady Macbeth and then picked at the sheet, trying to pick off invisible lint.  "Kelly went to school with his boss and they're good friends.  I think they even dated in college."  Peter grabbed for a glass of water that Michael had on the nightstand and took a drink to wet his parched mouth.  "Darren told her he took off because he had family business to take care of.  Kelly thanked him and called me.  She told me there is nothing going on with anyone in the family and she was concerned."  He absently brought his hands to his face and rubbed his forehead and then pushed back on his face as his hands framed it.   "He told me he was out of town for work and even now told me he had to catch Darren up on the trip.  Why would he lie?"

"Maybe he had a job interview.  He wouldn't want to tell his boss he was interviewing and he wouldn't want to tell Kelly until he had a firm offer."

Peter smiled widely at Michael and took a huge deep breath as he let out the tension in his body, but then quickly frowned.

"That would make sense if he told Darren that he had family business to take care of but it wouldn't explain why he told me he was going out of town for work.  Why wouldn't he tell me he was going for an interview?"

Michael put down the paper and looked at his partner.  "Doesn't sound right to me either.  Has John been acting strange?"

"No.  I talk to him almost every day.  He said he was going to Pittsburgh for work.  I didn't think anything of it until Kelly called me.  I'll talk to him tomorrow.  I'm sure there is a logical explanation."

"I'm sure there is, but if his explanation doesn't make sense, you could always invite him over and I'll talk to him for you.  After all, I'm a trained counselor.  I can see things that others don't."

"Thanks.  I love you."  Peter leaned over and kissed Michael again.

He kissed him back and then broke the kiss for a moment.  "Maybe I should offer my services more often if this is the payment I get."

Peter laughed and play hit his arm.  "You get this kind of treatment without your services, but I'm more than willing to pay for them.  Come here and I'll give you payment in full."

Michael pushed the paper to the floor and proceeded to take off his shirt.  As promised Peter delivered payment in full for the next hour.

TBC

They stood outside Justin's studio, each looking at Justin.

"What are we going to do?" Daphne asked, looking toward Brian for an answer. 

Brian wished he could just go hunt the man down, knock him around a bit and the whole fiasco would be over, but he knew it wouldn't work that way. Justin was a celebrity of sorts, at least in the art world and Brian was a well-respected businessman in the area.  The last thing they needed was negative publicity.  If Brian acted as he wanted, Justin's fears would probably come true and he would be left with no career and Brian with no agency.  Brian needed to think, but right now his first priority was Justin and getting him out of his studio.  Brian went over to him and tapped him on the shoulder and whispered in his ear.

"Justin, Justin, it's me, Brian."

Justin looked at Brian and shook his head as if to clear the cobwebs.

"Brian? When did you get home?"  Looking around the studio, he asked, "Why am I sitting in the dark?"

Brian was thrilled to see Justin responding to his presence, but he was still going to go slow on the explanation.

"It's late.  I'm sure you're hungry. Let's go find some dinner." Brian led Justin out of the studio and they both laughed when Justin's stomach rumbled loudly.

"I'll meet you downstairs, I need to go to the bathroom first," Justin said as turned toward the bathroom.

Brian and Daphne went to the kitchen and gathered the leftovers in the fridge and heated them on a plate for Justin. They sat at the large oak table that was big enough to seat six.  Jennifer had called the area where the table was placed a breakfast nook, but Brian regarded a nook as an area tucked in a  corner and this was anything but tucked away.  Brian and Justin often sat down to regular meals, sharing dinner as they discussed their day and their lives.  He remembered a few days ago when Justin shared the news that his last painting had been sold.  He talked about his latest inspiration for new pieces and was eager to return to his studio.  Now Brian looked at the photos and the notes, hoping that Justin could be convinced his career wasn't over and he should continue to paint.

Daphne looked around the large kitchen with its stainless steel appliances and white cabinets.  The area reflected Brian's taste; sleek and modern but the beautiful small framed pictures that were hung on the walls added whirls of color and a personal touch.  Justin affected everyone with his warmth and personality as well as his talent.  She was saddened to think that he would retreat and never paint again for fear of his latest stalker. As a counselor, she knew that the man was delusional and she hoped they would be able to find him soon.  Both her friends needed their life back and she wanted Justin to consider having a child as they had discussed.

"He worried so much about losing his chance at that first show and Carol and I convinced him it wouldn't make a difference.  The critic, I don't even remember his name now, assured us that it wouldn't make a difference and he was true to his word," Brian said as he rehashed the previous events.  Brian ran his hands over his face and pinched the brow over his nose.  The clock ticked in the background, but he didn't hear the noise.

"Obviously it's not him, Brian. He has nothing to gain."

"True, ....but if it isn't him, it could be a thousand other guys.  How are we going to find him?"  Brian said as he frowned and deep lines of worry crossed his forehead.  He could now understand the reality of people aging from worry.

"I hadn't thought about that.  We'll have to wait until he reveals himself.  Justin will be so vulnerable.  I just hate that," Daphne said as she thought about her friend looking over his shoulder everywhere he went. A brief glimpse of Justin kidnapped crossed her mind, but she pushed it immediately out.  Justin would be smart about his safety.

"Shit!!!"  He banged his hand on the table and looked toward the stairs hoping Justin didn't see or hear the outburst.

"So you have a plan?"  She asked, relieved that maybe Brian was going to take charge of this scary situation.

"That's easy.  Get the bastard.  There is no way I'm going to let anyone get Justin down.  He's so talented and the world needs his paintings."  He glanced toward the small picture hung directly in front of the island.  He remembered when Justin hung it and he had commented on the ability of Justin to put so much feeling in such a tiny picture.  Justin had given him a large megawatt smile and helped Brian hang the picture.

"Don't you think Justin should have some say about what to do?"  Daphne said as she saw the lines deepen on Brian's face. 

Before Brian could answer, Justin came down the stairs wearing a pair of jeans and a long sleeve blue Henley. He had changed from his painting clothes.  Sitting at the table, he saw the tension between Brian and Daphne and tried to remember why Daphne was here.  He looked at Brian and Daphne watching him and glanced at the table and saw the envelopes for the first time.

"Shit!" he said as he picked up the second one and peered inside.  After looking at the note, he placed the envelopes on the table and placed his head in his hands and sighed.

"I'm sorry, so sorry Brian.  You were right. I should have listened to you and taken your help, but ..." Justin started crying, unable to finish his thoughts.

Brian hated seeing anyone cry, especially Justin.  He felt helpless and Brian Kinney did not ‘do' helpless.  He was the fixer, the one everyone came to when they got in trouble.  Everyone came to him, but Justin, who was still the most stubborn man in the world, besides himself.  Justin wanted to prove he could take care of himself and while most of the time this was absolutely true, there were a few times that his stubbornness resulted in great harm. 

One of those times was a few years ago when he wanted to support himself and turned to erotic dancing.  Unfortunately, when he was leaving a gig he grabbed a taxi and the taxi was hit, leaving him with amnesia. He had to remember much of his life for the last 7 years, including his relationship with Brian.  Luckily for everyone, his memory returned, basically intact, but it took a lot of work and much heartache on Brian and Justin's part to get them back to their pre-accident relationship. 

During that time, Justin had stopped painting, deciding that his erotic dancing would be discovered by the critics and his agent and they would drop him due to the potential for scandal.  Carol, his agent,  had convinced him this was not an issue and he returned to painting and had garnered great success.  Now it appeared that his erotic dancing was threatening them again.

Brian had seen the envelope in today's mail and wondered how long Justin had the other one.  It wasn't important; what was important was resolving this problem so that Justin could return to painting.  

"Sorry's bullshit.  Haven't you learned that by now?" Brian said the anger in his voice kept tampered by his distraught partner. 

"But I am sorry.  I'm dragging you down again just because I insisted on supporting myself.  You were right.  A smart man knows when to ask for help and I guess I'm not smart."

Daphne came over to where he was sitting and wrapped her arms around her best friend. "Shhh.  You did nothing wrong.  The guy is delusional.  Thinking you guys are together," She said, not hiding her anger at the unknown person causing her best friend so much pain.

Justin continued to cry and was inconsolable.  He laid his head down on the table and gulped air as his silent tears coursed down his cheeks.

Brian walked over to him and lifted his torso off the table and kissed his tear-streaked face.  Grabbing a towel from the rack, he wiped the tears and laid the towel back on the table. 

"I love you and we'll figure this out."  He pulled Justin up from his sitting position and wrapped his arms around his back, giving him a huge hug.  He kissed his hair and mouthed ‘thank you' to Daphne and watched as she grabbed her purse and let herself out the back door.  "Let's go to bed."

Justin was exhausted; evidently sitting in the dark with your mind whirling all afternoon was tiring.  He allowed Brian to lead him up the stairs and undress him.  He got in the bed and waited for Brian.  Brian finished in the bathroom, foregoing his nightly shower and curled around Justin, offering the solace of his embrace and hoping that would lull him into sleep. Soon Brian heard the familiar short breaths that announced Justin was sleeping.  Brian held Justin and he was lulled into sleep by Justin's breaths.

The alarm woke Brian and he cursed himself for not shutting it off.  Luckily, Justin barely roused from the noise.  He went into his office and booted up his computer to review his day, trying to determine if there were meetings he had to attend or could he delegate his work day.  There was a conference call at 9:00 that he could take from home, but the remainder of the day could easily be handled by Cynthia or Ted.  Justin was his priority and he was determined to nip this latest problem in the bud before Justin fell down the rabbit hole.

Going downstairs, he switched on the coffee maker and grabbed the newspaper off the front stoop. Quickly glancing at the headlines and deciding that there was no earth-shattering calamities, he turned to the business section where he read the headlines and looked at his stocks and mutual funds.  Then he made the first of many phone calls.

"Hi, Carl."

"Brian.  I assume this isn't a social call this early in the morning.  What can I do for you?"

Brian explained the situation and asked Carl's advice.  It was good to have Carl in their family, but he wished that he could stick to being Debbie's significant other and not quiz him regarding the legal information.

"Let me talk to Melanie," he said as he dialed the next number on his list.

"Well hello to you to, Brian.  I'm fine."

"Linds, I don't have time for niceties this morning, let me talk to Mel."

"Ok.  Is everything ok?" Lindsay asked when she heard the impatience in his voice.

"No, everything is not okay.  I need to talk to Mel.  Are you going to keep talking or do I need to come down there?"

"Okay.  I'll go get her." Lindsay frowned at Brian's impatience and worried that something bad had happened.

"This better be good, Kinney.  It's fucking 7:00 in the morning."

Brian explained the situation and told her what Carl had suggested.

"Shit!  How is Justin?"

"If Justin were fine, would I be calling you?" Brian said feeling a little calmer now that he was doing something to solve the problem.

"Right.  I'll be in my office at 10:30. Sorry, I have court first thing this morning.  I'll get right on the order.  As soon as you know who you're dealing with, I can file it."

"Good.  I'll keep you updated."

He had saved Carol for last and dreaded making the call.

"Carol please," he said as he willed himself to put on his professional demeanor.

A few moments passed before another voice came on the phone.

"This is Carol's assistant, Nikki.  How may I help you?"

"I need to talk to Carol.  This is Brian Kinney, Justin Taylor's partner.  It's very important."  Brian ran his hand through his hair and pinched the space between his eyes.  He didn't have time for assistants this morning and really wanted to finish all the phone calls before Justin got up this morning. 

"I see.  I'll let her know you called."

"Tell her.... I need to talk to her right now.  Please go see if she can be interrupted," Brian said, hoping that the urgency in his tone would encourage Carol's assistant to find her.

"Hold please," she said and placed the call on hold.

Brian listened to bad Muzak and hoped Carol would actually come to the phone instead of her damn assistant.  He hated repeating all the information and each time he told someone else, the angrier he got.

"This is Carol.  How can I help you, Brian?  Is Justin okay?"  Carol asked, knowing that Brian calling her meant that things were probably not okay.  She took comfort in the knowledge that Justin finished a show and didn't have another one for 6 months.  The owner of the gallery was a good friend of hers and she could probably get the show pushed back a little if need be. 

"We have a problem," Brian started the conversation and told Carol about the notes.

"Oh.  Poor Justin.  I'm sure he is distraught.  He was so sure that we would drop him when we found out about his dancing and I assured him it wasn't an issue and now it has come back again. What are your plans?"  Carol picked up her calendar on the desk and quickly looked through it.

Brian filled her in on the suggestions from Carl and Melanie.

"Is there anything I can do?" Carol asked, hoping this did not mean the end of Justin's painting.  She knew he was a sensitive man and would never put his family or partner in jeopardy.

"I would just like you to continue to tell him that this isn't a big deal.  It isn't, right?"

"Of course, Brian.  As I told him several years ago.  Many artists support themselves in a variety of ways before their success.  We only are concerned with their work, not their private lives.  I will continue to show Justin's work.  I could come out to visit if that would help.  I've never seen Justin's studio and this would be a good excuse."

Brian smiled. "Thank you.  I might take you up on your offer, but I just hope I can convince him to continue to paint without your intervention."

"Anything I can do, let me know.  But I must get back to my meeting. Thank you for letting me know," Carol said as she hung up the phone.  Before she returned to her meeting, she made another phone call to Tim Callen.

He called Ted and Cynthia asking them to take his meetings for today, but explained he would take the conference call from his home.  He'd phoned Daphne and Jennifer, sharing the information from Carl, Mel, and Carol.  After his flurry of phone calls, he went upstairs to shower and get ready for his conference call at 9:00. Hoping Justin would sleep until he was finished, he gently closed the door to their bedroom and made his way to the study.

The call finished at 10:00 and Brian opened the door to their bedroom slowly, hoping to not disturb Justin but found him sitting up in bed staring at the room. 

"Hey," he said quietly, hoping to not startle Justin.

"Hey," Justin said, not adding to his greeting.

Brian looked at Justin and a feeling of protectiveness washed over him.  He looked so young and innocent just sitting there in bed.  But Brian knew better than to coddle him as Justin would rebel and be very angry.  He might put himself in precarious positions just to spite Brian's protective nature. He had to tread carefully. Sitting on Justin's side of the bed, he gently kissed his hair above his ear.  Justin didn't respond to the gesture and Brian repeated it.

"I know you're hungry.  Go grab a shower and I'll make you some breakfast."  Brian didn't want to give Justin time to think, instead, he gave him a directive so he could put himself on autopilot. 

Justin turned toward Brian and gave him a half smile.  Recognizing Brian was in protective mode, he knew he would not win any argument and got out of bed and walked to the bathroom.  He turned on the shower and waited for the water to get the correct temperature before he got in.

When Brian was sure Justin was moving, he returned to the kitchen and gathered eggs and bacon to cook.  He finished his preparations as Justin entered the kitchen.

"Right on time, but then you're rarely late when it comes to the beast," Brian smiled and joked as he placed the plate of food in front of Justin.  Justin had put on the same jeans and blue Henley from the night before. Brian doubted he would be dressed in his painting clothes, but he had hoped that maybe Justin would ignore the situation and paint.  He poured some orange juice for Justin and a cup of coffee for himself and then joined Justin at the table.

Justin picked up the fork and took a small bite of the eggs.  He added pepper to them and ate a second bite.  He looked at his plate pretending interest but mostly moved the eggs around with his fork.  Brian was patient and didn't say anything while Justin pretended to eat.  He wished he could read Justin's mind, so he could address all the fears, but he knew Justin wasn't going to volunteer anything.

Brian finished his coffee and got up to refill the cup. 

"Justin we need to talk," Brian said as he put down the cup.

"Go ahead and say it.  I screwed up yet again."  Justin said without looking at Brian.  He got up and dumped his food in the trash and put the plates in the dishwasher.  He grabbed a water from the fridge but didn't sit down at the table.  He looked out the window above the sink to the stark landscape and thought how fitting the barren land matched his situation.

"I talked to Carl and Mel this morning," Brian started the conversation, refusing to respond to Justin's accusation.

"You did what?  There you go again, Brian Kinney to the rescue.  Helping out poor little Justin.  I'm almost 30 years old and I don't need your help," he said as he hit his hand against the counter.

Brian understood his anger and normally he would have let Justin deal with the situation, but in this instance, he knew that Justin needed help.  "The sign of a mature man is recognizing when you need help," he said softly, making sure that Justin heard his words and had to concentrate to process the message.

"Justin," Brian said, hoping that his love and respect for his partner would come through in his voice.

Justin returned to the table and reached out to grab Brian's hand, squeezing it tightly. 

"I know."  Justin looked at Brian and nodded his head for him to talk, acknowledging his readiness to listen this time.

"I saw the envelope in your office.  You were holding it when I found you yesterday.  Another one arrived yesterday in the mail. When did the first one arrive?"

"Two days ago.  I found it when you were taking a shower after we watched <i> The Hobbit </i>.  I sat in the office for a long time trying to figure out what to do."

"Did you?  I mean did you figure anything out?" Brian asked, trying to give Justin some ownership of the problem.

"No.  I was too caught up in the guilt. You and Carol said it wouldn't matter, but now this guy seems to think ...." Justin couldn't say the words, they were too painful.

"Carl said we need to find the guy.  He might be dangerous."

"You talked to Carl and Mel and Daphne knows too.  I guess you called Mom.  Tell me you at least didn't tell Debbie," he said, the resignation evident in his voice.  Justin sipped some water from his bottle and took a deep breath.

"I didn't tell Debbie.  If Debbie knew we'd never catch the guy.  The word would be on the street and you'd be forever looking over your shoulder."  Brian smiled when he saw his words brought a slight bit of laughter to Justin's face.  "We'll find him and he'll go to jail for stalking."

"Brian, I'd love to think that all the bad guys are going to get caught - just like on TV and the movies, but you and I know that isn't always the case.  Look at Chris Hobbes. Community Service, for fuck's sake.  Even if we catch the guy, how can we be sure it won't happen again? I was working for several months and I know there were lots of photos." 

"You're right.  Right now, we just need to catch him and stop him."

 A cold chill ran over Justin's body at the thought of sharing his story.  He remembered his conversation with Daphne regarding a child.  If he shared his story, that dream would be gone and he wasn't ready to close that door.  He couldn't think of the consequences right now; he had to stop the current nut job and then he'd decide what to do.

Justin and Brian sat at the table in the kitchen. Justin pretended to look at the kitchen walls, the contrast of the white trim with the bright green drawing his eyes to them as if he's seen them for the first time. Brian, in turn, watched Justin and he worried for his partner. 

It was November and the leaves were changing colors providing a beautiful backdrop of reds, yellows, and oranges outside their window.  Brian remembered last week when Justin commented that he wanted to paint a picture of Gus in the yard.

"Justin," Brian said softly, not wanting to startle him.

Looking at Brian, Justin turned his head toward him and gave a weak smile.

"Yeah?"

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Justin scrunched his face in surprise.  "Since when does Brian Kinney talk about anything?" he said. 

"I can see you are thinking and I know you when you start to think too much, you drift away in your thoughts.  I don't relish the idea of finding you again staring at the four walls, whether it is in your studio or in the kitchen.  Better to share your thoughts."

"I'm sorry."

"You know sorry is still bull shit, so why are you sorry?"

"I should have listened to you and asked for help.  If I had just asked for money, we wouldn't be here today."  Justin couldn't bear to look at Brian as he talked and stared down at the table where the morning paper was still laid out.

"Hindsight is always 20/20, Justin.  I understand why you didn't ask and I respect you for your tenacity." Brian gathered the sections of the paper and piled them on top of each other.  Getting up to freshen his coffee, he poured one for Justin as well and brought them to the table. 

"Respect.  Respect me for ruining your life.  That is an oxymoron if I ever heard one," Justin said, the bitterness in his words easily heard. Justin twirled the cup but didn't drink any of the hot liquid.  Looking inside the cup, he was mesmerized by the steam coming off the top.

"You didn't ruin my life or anyone else's.  We'll deal with this situation." Brian added several teaspoons of sugar, stirring it with a spoon.  Lifting it up, he blew on it and took a tentative sip, smiling at the familiar taste.

Justin slammed his hand on the table and winced at the slight pain that ran up his arm.  "Brian... There is a crazy guy out there who thinks we are a couple.  He has pictures of me doing a very provocative lap dance.  He is sending both of us letters telling us that he and I should be together." Brian winced as he watched Justin slam the table and knew that he would regret the motion later when he painted.  Taking another sip of his coffee, he waited for Justin to continue.

Justin stood up and paced the kitchen as his voice continued to rise. "He has pictures, Brian!!!  He could give them to any newspaper or tabloid out there.  He could post them on the Internet.  What about your business?  He knows we are partners.  He can dig a little deeper and find Kinnetik.  What happens when your accounts find out your partner is a stripper?  You'll be the laughing stock of the Pittsburgh business community. How can you sit there and say that I'm not ruining your life?"  Justin stopped his tirade and silently pleaded for answers.

Brian listened to Justin and nodded at each statement. Justin was in full Queen out mode, even though he knew that some of Justin's fears could be justified, he had already decided that his accounts knew about him and Justin and wouldn't leave his company over some pictures.  After all, if anyone cared to look into him, the clubbing and tricking life he lived before Kinnetik was much more damning than his partner being a stripper for parties and making his own way in New York.

When he was certain that Justin had finished, he walked over to him and gathered him in his arms.  Leading him to the couch in the breakfast area, he sat them down and held him for a few moments.  Gathering his words carefully he spoke in very soft tones.

"Yes, he has pictures but after talking to Daphne, I think he will keep them to himself.  He thinks you two are a couple and he doesn't want to share you.  He wouldn't share the pictures with the whole world; he'd keep them to himself to savor.  Lucky for us he is not trying to blackmail you.  If that were the case, he might sell them to the highest bidder." Brian kissed Justin on the temple and continued talking in low soothing tones.

"While this guy wants you, there may be other pictures out there and the next guy may want to sell them.  We should think about telling the public about your past.  You have nothing to hide or be ashamed of.  Even working at McDonald's can be an embarrassment to some celebrities and I bet you there are a few famous people out there who slapped burgers in their youth."

"I can't do that," Justin responded automatically. Justin leaned into Brian's chest taking comfort in the familiar embrace.  "Why did I have to be so adamant that I needed to support myself?  If only I had..."

Brian squeezed Justin and kissed his head while he ran his hand up and down his back. He'd stop mentioning going public about Justin's stripping for now, but he knew that in the long run, that would be the best solution.

"I'll be there every step of the way.  Justin, you're my partner.  That isn't going to change just because some guy has a few pictures of you doing a lap dance." Brian said in low soft tones.  He could feel Justin relaxing into his arms and was pleased that he could calm him down so fast.

"You're not mad? I thought you would be so angry."

"No, I'm not mad, with the lifestyle I had most of my adult life, do you honestly think you're stripping job will be the thing to ruin my career? I don't think so, but I am worried.  This guy knows where we live.  Maybe you should think about going to your mom's for a bit, just until we catch him."  Brian had thought a lot about Justin's safety since he and Daphne talked last night.  While he was reassuring Justin that he was safe and would be there for him, he was also aware that the guy was apparently delusional.  Delusional people did not always make rational decisions and he was worried about Justin's safety.

"I don't want to go my mom's. What if he follows me there?  It would be super creepy." Justin shook his head.

"I don't like that you're here by yourself.  He could come in here at any time."  Brian looked out the window mentally thinking about their property. "We don't even have a security system. Maybe you should go stay with Carl and Debbie."

"And listen to them having hetero sex.  I lived there once and the walls are paper thin. I'd be scarred for life."  Justin cringed, thinking about the noises he would hear if he lived there.

"I think right now we need to put the stalker to the side and find something more interesting to keep our minds occupied."

Justin smiled at the obvious change in topic but doesn't argue. 

"Sounds like a plan.  I'll race you to the bedroom."

Justin leaped from the couch and ran toward the bedroom; Brian in slow pursuit, enjoying the view of Justin's backside. While they were dealing with yet another crisis, he knew they would weather it and the most important thing was that they were together. 

When Brian climbed the stairs, Justin had ducked into their bedroom and was already unbuttoning his pants.  Brian stood at the doorway to their bedroom and watched as Justin shucked his pants and underwear and pulled off his shirt.  Justin got into bed and lay on his stomach.

"You coming?" He said as he knew Brian was watching him but had yet to come into the room and undress. 

"Soon. But before I come, I'm going to make you so hard that you'll be begging me for release."

"Mmmm," said Justin and he reached into the nightstand for the lube and condoms they kept there. 

Justin had closed his eyes wanting to enjoy the experience.  Sometimes he found the intensity of sex overpowering and enjoyed the slip into another realm when they got together.  He felt Brian's weight on the bed and sensed him hovering above him as he felt the heat emanating from his body. 

Brian started at the base of Justin's neck, massaging away the tension from the morning.  He felt the knots in Justin's back and shoulders and pushed gently but firmly on them as he sought to relax his partner.  Brian knew he was doing it right as he heard the sighs of contentment coming from Justin.  Leaning over he kissed Justin's neck and lapped his tongue several times at the base of his head.  Justin giggled a little as it tickled.

Brian moved his hands down Justin's back, hitting his shoulder blades and the edges of his spine.  Each place he gently massaged the knots that had formed and felt Justin relax under his ministrations.  When he had massaged down to the base of his spine, he ran his hands up Justin's spine and started again, wanting to ensure that Justin was relaxed and mindless before he began his true assault.  He heard his even breathing and sighs of pleasure as he felt the soft flesh under his hands and knew that he had been successful.  He worked his hands down Justin's back until they landed on the edges of his buttocks.  Increasing his massage, he pushed into the sensitive flesh and then started kneading his buttocks.  He could feel Justin alternately grind into the bed and push into his hands. 

Removing his hands, he straddled Justin, placing his legs on either side of Justin's calves and leaned down to place his tongue on Justin's spine.  Starting at the base of his neck, he licked and kissed his back all the way down and then before he reached the little indention at the base of his spine, he reversed his course and licked and kissed all the way up the spine again, only to repeat his actions a second time. Justin was pushing into the bed more at this point, trying to get more friction to his engorged cock. 

Brian licked down to the base of the spine a third time, but this time, he pushed Justin's ass cheeks apart and blew on them with a soft breath.  Inhaling the unique scent, he felt drops of cum drip down his cock, but ignored it, focusing on his lover.  Sticking his tongue out, he started at the top of Justin's crack and slowly licked down until he reached his balls, reversing his course as he had done with Justin's spine.  His tongue wet, he continued the licking, stopping at the tight rosebud to suck it in his mouth a little at each swipe.  When Justin was very wet and moaning, he pulled the ass cheeks a little more, exposing Justin's center and pushed his tongue in the hole, popping it in for just a moment before he swiped the long crack with his tongue, enjoying the taste of Justin.  Justin pushed his ass into Brian's face, urging him on.  Brian reached under Justin, grabbing his hard cock and pulling on it as he continued the slow, lovely torture.

Justin moved his hand on top of Brian's, trying for the friction he needed for release, but Brian removed his hand and kept his hand around Justin's cock.  Recognizing how close Justin was, he moved away from Justin, grabbing the lube and a condom.  After putting on the condom, he prepared Justin quickly, pushing slowly into the tight channel. Justin grunted at the intrusion but quickly pushed back signaling his readiness for Brian to move.

Instead of the desired movement, Brian leaned down and kissed Justin's neck and ran his hands up and down his back. 

"Briannnnnnn," Justin said, the desperation evident in his voice.

Brian pulled out slowly and then slammed into Justin.

"Yes," Justin said as he felt the fullness.

Again Brian pulled out slowly, but this time he pushed in slowly as well.  He repeated his slow push and pull game for several more thrusts, but then felt the familiar tingle in his own body announcing the impending release.  Speeding up, he pushed into Justin and pulled out rocking their hips, their bodies in perfect unison.

Each man oblivious to their surroundings and their only thoughts on their impending orgasms and their entwined bodies.  Justin pushed up to meet Brian's thrusts and Brian pulled Justin's hips to meet his body even more closely. Brian was holding Justin by the hips, using the leverage to thrust.  He felt the tightness around his cock as Justin's hole clenched as he released.  The spasms were sufficient to push Brian over the edge. 

Brian lay on top of Justin, allowing his breath to return to normal and Justin enjoyed the feeling of safety that Brian's enveloping body gave him.  As Brian felt himself soften, he reluctantly pulled out and tied off the condom.  He heard the familiar sigh from Justin at the lost contact.  Rolling over to lie next to Justin, he pulled the man close as he turned on his side. 

"Mmm," Justin sighed in contentment.

"Love you," Brian said as he grabbed the sheet to pull over them.

Both men drifted into a post-coital nap but were woken up by the ring of the phone.

Reaching for the phone, Brian grabbed it, hoping Justin would remain sleeping.  He knew Justin was tired and had not slept well the night before and he suspected that sleep would be a rare commodity in the upcoming days.

"What?" Brian said as he gently got out of their bed and walked into the hall as he closed the door.

"Brian, It's Carol.  We need to talk."

TBC

Peter got out of the shower and towel dried his light brown hair.  Another towel was wrapped around his waist and Michael, his partner, watched with lust in his eyes.

"Stop that.  You know I have to meet John tonight.  I promise when I get home I'll make it up to you," he said with a twinkle in his eye as he looked over at Michael lying on the bed with the beginning of an erection.  "Save that for later.  I have a feeling I will want that lovely cock.  Not that I don't always want it, but I'm worried about tonight."

"Have you thought about what you're going to say?"  Michael asked.  Even after 3 years, he still loved looking at Peter and had to tamper down his jealous nature when he thought other guys were looking at him. 

Peter finished drying his hair and hung the towel up in the bathroom.  He removed the burgundy towel from around his waist and hung it on the back of the door.  Taking out his comb, he ran it quickly through his hair and put a little styling gel on top.  He nodded at the refection he saw in the mirror.

"Sort of.  I mean I have some half-finished ideas in my head but nothing concrete.  You have any wise ideas, oh counselor, love of my life?" He teased, knowing how the nickname always made Michael smile.

"I bet there is a rational explanation and you're worrying for nothing.  I bet he's just applied for a new job and didn't want to tell you until it's settled."

Peter finished buttoning his dark gray shirt and tucked it into his pants.  He leaned over and kissed Michael.  "Always the optimist.  I hope you're right but I've known John since high school and I think he wouldn't keep something like that a secret."

Michael gave him a warm smile and nodded his head in understanding.  The heat kicked on, responding to the slight chill in the air, even though it was warm for the time of year. The sound reminded Peter to grab a sweater and he pulled it over his head.  Taking a last look in the mirror, he grabbed his phone, keys, and wallet and walked toward the door. 

"I hope to be home early. You going to be up?" he called as he opened the door.

"Got an early morning session so I'll be in bed by 10:00.  If you need me, don't hesitate to wake me, though.  Love you."

Peter returned the sentiment to his partner, grabbed his coat and walked out of the apartment where he noticed a distinct winter chill in the hallway.  Evidently the super was trying to save money by not heating the hallways.  He couldn't really blame him as most people were wearing their coats in the hallways so they wouldn't have to carry them to their homes.  He passed a few tenants in the hall and said hi to them but he was on his way in just a few short minutes. 

They had agreed to meet at Milady's bar and restaurant, a new bar that had recently opened and both men wanted to try.  Peter took the Spring Street subway there and arrived in 10 minutes.  He looked around and didn't spot John.  Grabbing a table toward the back of the bar, the waitress came quickly to take his order.  He ordered a Fat Tyre beer and waited for John who showed up just as his beer was delivered.  The dark oak wooden table was shaped in a square and had a bright shine to it. The waitress laid a small coaster with the restaurant logo on the slick surface preventing physics to move the wet glass along its surface.

The two men hugged and then sat back down.  The waitress took John's order and brought him a Pale Ale and they each drank about half of their beers, enjoying the people watching and the camaraderie as two men who have been longtime friends can do.  John's lack of talking was noticeable since he was usually the first to jump in and share all the latest tales.  Peter watched his friend for any sign of distress and didn't see anything unusual; therefore he tried to convince himself that his fears were unfounded.  He was glad they had chosen this place as the noise level was tolerable and they could have a conversation without going horse by the end of the night.  He loved the no smoking policy as well.  He remembered long ago when they would go out and have to shower before going to bed as the smoke appeared to seep into their skin leaving them smelling like the bar long after their departure.

"How was Pittsburgh?  You were there for a pretty long time for work.  I'm surprised they sent you for more than a day.  I can't imagine there being that much to do in the city."

John smiled as he remembered his week-long trip to Pittsburgh and his many sightings of Justin.  "It was great.  I learned a lot."

"Did you attend a seminar?  What was it on?" Peter took a draw from his beer as he watched his friend's face.

"No, no seminar.  I went there on vacation. Did you know there is an Andy Warhol museum there?" he said, the excitement in his voice unmistakable, like he was a child sharing some big secret.

"I seem to remember reading that somewhere.  Tell me about it."

John proceeded to enlighten Peter with facts about the Warhol museum and was thankful that he'd gone and had interesting facts to share. He also told him about the incline and a few other stops he made on the bus tour around Pittsburgh.  Peter nodded his head in appreciation of his friend's trip, but a niggling at the back of his head told him something was not quite right.  John was not telling him anything about his business meetings and instead was sharing a list of the "things to see in Pittsburgh".  He listened as he waved the waitress over and ordered a second beer.  John declined as he'd drunk only half of his first one.

"... and that was about it.  I really had a good time."  John drank from his beer, sitting back in his chair and surveying the bar patrons.  The man at the next table sat down, draping his jacket over the empty chair and rubbed his hands together.

"Ok.  Why did you really go to Pittsburgh?"   Peter swallowed the last of the beer as he heard the waitress ask the patrons at the next table if they wanted a drink.  Looking John in the eye, he scrutinized his face for any further signs of lying.   "You told me late Sunday afternoon you were going away on business.  You usually know way in advance, but I gave you the benefit of the doubt.  Evidently you didn't tell Kelly anything, since she couldn't reach you and was really worried about you. After a few days of trying to reach you to tell you about your dad's party, she called your work and talked to Darren who told her you were away taking care of a family emergency. I'm surprised Darren didn't question you when you got back this week.  If I was your boss and your sister called looking for you and I had to tell her you were away on family business that she apparently didn't know anything about, I would wonder if you were telling me the truth."  Looking at his best friend, he drummed his fingers impatiently on the table and took another draw from his beer.  "After talking to your boss, she called me, your supposed best friend as she was really worried.  I had to tell her you were away on business which was not what your boss told her. She made me promise to call her the minute I heard from her."  He let the statements make their own point, choosing not to point out the discrepancies.

Peter listened to the piped in background music playing softly from the speakers located in the corners of the bar.  Glancing at the other patrons in the bar, he hoped none of them were paying attention to their conversation.  He could feel his heart beat faster as he accused his best friend of lying to him, his boss and his sister.  He silently hoped for some logical explanation, but as he watched John's face and it didn't flush, his hopes seemed to drain.  "So, did you even go to Pittsburgh?"  Peter asked, hating to call his friend a liar but realizing that John seemed overly excited about the retelling of his last week's adventures.

"Yes, I went to Pittsburgh and I did go to the Warhol museum and the incline.  I did all those things."  John said, inwardly happy that he would be able to tell Peter about his exciting trip. John stopped at the end of the sentence, appearing about to say more, but waited for Peter to react.

"So what's up with the lies?  It's not like you."  Peter looked into John's eyes, hoping to see the evidence of him telling the truth this time.

John smiled, thinking of Justin's smile and envisioning them in bed together.  He was glad that Peter had caught him, now he could tell him about Justin.  Maybe Peter would help him get Justin to meet him somewhere.  Better yet, he could help come up with some ideas to get rid of the pesky boyfriend.  Brian wasn't any good for Justin; he'd heard Daphne talk about him and even heard Justin disparage him.

"Actually, I went to meet a guy."

"A guy?  In Pittsburgh?  Where did you meet him?  Tell me about him."  Peter asked in quick succession and letting out the breath in his lungs.  He watched John for any sign of anger at his words and was relieved that John didn't seem fazed by his accusations.

"His name is Justin Taylor and he's an artist.  He had a show here a few weeks ago and we hooked up.  He invited me down to Pittsburgh for the week so we could get to know each other better."

"Justin Taylor.  I think I've heard of him.  What kind of art does he do?"

"He mostly does abstracts.  He's very talented."  John was pleased that Peter seemed so happy for him.  He didn't realize that he was lying to his friend as his fantasy had begun to bleed into reality. His world had begun to revolve around a life that he was living in his head.

"Is the show still here?  I'd love to go see it."  Peter was relieved.  He could understand why John was a little secretive, but it still seemed out of character to lie to everyone.  He wanted to check out this Justin Taylor a little more.

"I think he said it was here for another few weeks.  I think all the pieces are sold, but you could go see his work.  It's phenomenal.  The gallery is only open until 6:00 except during shows; so I won't be able to join you.  I know you'll like his stuff."

"What gallery is it again?  I was so caught up in your news that I didn't hear."

 "It's the June Kelly Gallery.  They show new and established artists."

"Ok.  I'll check it out.  Congratulations on the new boyfriend.  He's a lucky guy.  You're a great catch."

John smiled and nodded his head.  "Thanks.  It's late and I do have an early morning tomorrow."  He threw down a 20 on the table, hugged Peter goodbye and walked out the door.

Peter left Milady's and went home to Michael.  Turning his conversation with John over in his head, he was still disturbed by the information that John shared.  John was not one to lie, yet he did to both him and his sister and even his boss.  He was hoping Michael was awake when he got home because he really wanted to talk to his partner about what John was saying.

Michael was reading a professional journal, Journal of Gay and Lesbian Psychotherapy, in their bed when Peter came home.  Peter smiled and walked into their bedroom. 

"So how'd it go?" Michael asked as he put down his book and patted the bed next to him.

"Okay," Peter said as he leaned down and kissed him and then sat down on the bed.  Michael moved over to make more room for him on the bed.

"That doesn't sound very encouraging.  Want to talk about it?" Michael said as he leaned over to give Peter a kiss on the cheek.

"John said he met a guy in Pittsburgh and he was visiting him."  The glow from the light on the table illuminated Michael's face, giving him a glow against the dark wall.

"That doesn't sound so bad, why the scowl?"  Michael asked as he saw the deep lines on Peter's face.

"He lied to everyone.  He told his boss he had family stuff, he told me that he had work stuff and he didn't tell his sister anything."  Peter cupped his hands and ran them over his face as if to push away the thoughts.

"But you knew all that. What else is bothering you?"

"I just have this odd feeling.  He said the guy has a show here in town at a gallery.  I think I'll go look at it this week." Peter's stomach growled softly and he put his hand on his belly.   He looked sheepishly at Michael.  "Guess I was too distracted to eat."

"Go get some cheese.  I left some cut squares in the fridge.   That way you won't wake up really light headed." Michael pointed his finger toward the door and tilted his head.

Peter nodded his head and stood up, walking to the kitchen and placing a few crackers and some cheese on a small plate.  He poured himself a little wine to go with his late night snack and returned to the bedroom.   Michael had closed the journal, placing it on the nightstand and was sitting up waiting for his return.  He smiled when he saw a small plate of food and a glass of wine in his partner's hand.  Peter sat on the edge of the bed, placing his glass of wine on the nightstand and ate some of the snack.

"Want some cheese?  Crackers?"

"No.  I had dinner and I think it'd be a good idea for you to eat something if you're going to drink that wine."

"I always said you were a smart man."   Peter swallowed his last piece of cheese and put his plate on the end table. 

"Okay.   Trust your gut.  Maybe going to see the gallery will give you some peace of mind.   But right now I think someone promised me some action before he left.  I think you should take off your clothes and join me."  Michael gave Peter a mischievous smile and raised the covers in invitation. 

Peter didn't need a second invitation and was soon ready for bed where he joined Michael for some much-needed release.

TBC

Darren called John into his office late in the afternoon.   John looked around the office, admiring the painting behind Darren's desk.  Justin could paint better than that.  Maybe I'll get him to paint me a piece and I can hang it in my office.  I'd be the talk of the office.   He sat in one of two steel blue chairs that Darren had opposite his chrome and glass desk.  Darren liked the modern look and felt it was cutting edge and matched the company's image. 

"John, I'd like to send you to Pittsburgh to meet with a prospective client.  The company is Organza and they specialize in compartmental furniture.  You did such a great job with our last account, I'd like you to help them design a new logo."  Darren picked up the file he printed from the company president and handed it to John, sharing the information.

John heard the ‘send you to Pittsburgh' and he envisioned a meeting with Justin. Maybe I can pose for his next piece.  I can see it now.  ‘John lay on this couch, leg this way- yes, that's it.'  He would smile his brilliant smile at me and I would be the subject of his next masterpiece.  Everyone would recognize me when they saw the painting.  As Darren called his name a second time, he finally brought his focus back to the meeting.

"I'd like you to leave next week.  All the information about their needs is in the email.  They have a very interesting company and I found their web site intriguing."   Darren looked across the desk, smiling a mischievous grin and said, "and this time, tell your sister, Kelly where you're going."

"That would be great and I'll let her know tonight."  Standing up to leave, he shook Darren's hand and smiled all the way to his office.  

He tried to concentrate on completing the shading in his new design, but he was too excited to work and decided to leave for the day.  Darren was not a clock watcher and wouldn't be checking on him.  He knew that if Darren came to his office, he'd just find him daydreaming. Shutting down his computer, he grabbed his phone and barely made it to the hallway before he called Peter.

 As usual, Peter was very busy at the office and it wasn't until he passed a billboard advertising a new exhibit at MOMA that he remembered the discussion he had with John on Monday.  He'd talked to John once during the week and he never mentioned his "friend" in Pittsburgh, and he hoped that maybe he'd been right and his fears were unfounded.

 "Peter, you'll never guess what just happened," John asked when his friend called him about 4:00.

Peter put down the report he was reading and glanced at his watch.  He usually did not like to take time away from work to talk, but John's voice was overly animated and he hoped it was good news. 

"Did you finally get that promotion you've been hinting at for so long?" He twirled a pen between his fingers as he clicked save on his computer.

"No.  This is way bigger.  Remember I told you about my new boyfriend. Well, he just called and told me he wants me to come back to Pittsburgh.  He, get this, wants me to pose for his next piece.  Isn't that exciting?"  John walked through the corridor of his building and stood by the elevator as he talked animatedly.

"It is."  Peter frowned at the news, again his inner voice expressed that something wasn't right.  "But didn't you just take a vacation?  Isn't it a little too soon to leave again?"  Peter said, the voice of reason responding to his friend.  

"Well, see there is an upside to this.  Darren wants me to go see a client in the area.  I can legitimately go."

"Sounds awesome.  I hate to cut this short, but I've got to finish this project before the end of the day."

"Ok.  I'll talk to you over the weekend.  Darren said he needs to finalize the meeting with Organza and I'll be leaving sometime next week."

Peter didn't trust John, something seemed off and he left work early the following day, going to the June Kelly gallery to see the artist's work.  While he didn't have the artful eye that John had, he'd attended enough gallery openings with him to recognize talent and enjoy looking at the artwork.  Walking into the gallery, he turned to the immediate right and looked at some smaller pieces.  The small spotlights shone on the pieces from above and he was mesmerized by the flecks of light that caught the brush strokes in the painting.  He moved to one side and then the other to catch the light's reflection on the painting and was fascinated by the dancing colors.  He glanced at the other side of the entrance and saw a picture of the artist and a small biography. 

Justin Taylor is a highly talented young man.  He attended the Pittsburgh Institute of Fine Arts.  He first exhibited when he was in high school where his work was shown at a young artist's collection.  From there he showed at many student exhibits and in his senior year was written up in the Art Forum for his innovative work.  He has exhibited in New York at Apex, Tamarind and in Pittsburgh at the Sidney Bloom Gallery and Space, one of the newest galleries in the City.  His work can also be seen in the comic book Rage which he co-created and has illustrated since its inception.  He currently lives in Pittsburgh.

Rage, that was the Gay comic book that all the guys in their circle were discussing a few years back. He remembered talking about it with Michael and picking up a copy of the comic when it was released.  He didn't know it was still being written, but he really didn't follow comics very much. He remembered the storyline was about a gay crusader saving a young kid who got bashed. Rumor was that parts of the story were real.  He wondered if the artist knew either of the characters. 

The picture was of a young blonde man with an enigmatic smile.  He could see how John was attracted to him.  As he walked to the side of the picture, it appeared that the young man's smile was directed at him.  He studied the bio for a few minutes and then left the entry to see the remainder of the exhibit.  It was later in the afternoon and he saw only a few people in the gallery.  He stopped at each painting, seeing the use of color and amazed to see that each picture evoked emotion in him.  He was in front of a large canvas with blurred strokes and when he looked at the picture, he could see they represented a couple, a gay couple entwined in each other's embrace.  He felt his mouth smile and felt a tug in his groin as he could almost feel the attraction between the two men.

"It's one of my favorites," a soft voice said, trying not to startle him.

Peter looked around for the owner of the voice and found a woman admiring the painting standing a few feet away.

"It is striking.  I haven't finished the exhibit but I must say I'm impressed with Mr. Taylor's work.  You appear to be familiar with the exhibit. Have you seen other work by the artist?"  Peter asked the woman as he smiled his own enigmatic smile.  Even though he was gay, he knew how to charm a woman and this one seemed very eager to talk about Mr. Taylor's work.

"I'm Carol Sing, his agent," she said as she stuck her hand out to shake Peter's hand.  "I've represented him for several years." She wore dark gray tailored pants and a white crisp shirt with a brightly colored scarf draped around her neck.  She wore a gold watch and a multi-colored 2-inch bracelet to add a few finishing touches to the outfit. 

Peter shook Carol's hand; fate was in his favor. The handshake was strong, conveying her in charge nature.

"Is that a recent picture?"  He pointed toward the easel with Justin's picture displayed.   "He seems so young to be exhibiting in such a large space.  It must take a lot of time to paint these masterpieces."

"Justin is young.  He's gone through a lot for someone his age; that is why his work is so poignant."

"Oh." Peter was hoping for a little more information, like how he could support himself while he painted, but knew that was very personal information and something his agent wouldn't disclose. 

Carol didn't like sharing personal information about her artists, considering it poor taste.  She hated nothing more than celebrities who used their ill fortune to increase their fame.  And with this new development of a stalker, she needed to be careful.  Glancing at the man in front of her, she felt a sense of ease, but also curiosity.  Her gut reaction told her that this man was important, maybe a key to the recent problems that Justin was experiencing.  She let her guard down a little and decided to be a bit more open than normal.

"I'm not one to share my artist's stories, but unfortunately the Internet shares everything, including what color underwear they wore to the store."

Peter laughed.  "How true.  I won't ask you to divulge any of Mr. Taylor's past, but could you tell me why he lives in Pittsburgh?  It seems odd that someone so young would choose to live so far removed from the art scene in New York.  I would think a neophyte would want to be close to the action, so to speak." He hoped his wording didn't sound trite, but he was really curious why a young artist who had obviously made it in the emerging art world in New York didn't live in the city that never sleeps." They stood in front of one of Justin's larger pieces as they talked, but no other patrons seemed to stop and listen to their conversation.

"That one is easy.  His partner lives there.  I don't feel I'm breaking any confidences on that one, Brian was here for the opening of the show and he comes to all of Justin's events."  Carol smiled as she remembered Brian's ever-present touch on Justin's body whenever he was near. She walked toward the left steering Peter towards the back of the exhibit.  It seemed important that he see some of the larger works toward the back.  A light flickered as if to warn of its impending demise, but then it winked and regained all its strength, shining on the next canvas.

"His partner," Peter's color drained from his face when he realized what Carol had just said.  John may have gone to Pittsburgh, but he definitely did not get asked by Justin.  He picked up his program again and looked at Justin's picture, staring at it for a few minutes, trying to place the face and then it hit him where he had seen him before.  He was fairly certain that Justin used to dance for the company Dancing Beauties.  But how did John hook up with Justin?  Did he hook up with Justin? Or was John living in a dreamland?  Shit!!! He needed more information and he needed it now.

Carol looked at the young man and watched as the color drained from his face.  There was something going on and she was going to trust her instincts. 

"Can I get you some water?  You don't look well." She asked as she led Peter to a chair by the wall. 

"Thanks.  I think that would be good."  He took several deep breaths as he formed a dozen questions in his mind.  He needed to get help and this woman seemed to know Justin.  She had to help him. 

Carol brought back the proffered water and sat down next to Peter.

"You look a little better now.  Can I call you a cab or do you need someone to pick you up?  It's almost closing time, but we can wait until someone can assist you."

Peter took several sips of water and looked at the picture on the cover again. The worse that could happen would be that Carol wouldn't answer him and the best, well the best would be that he confirmed that his longtime friend needed help. 

"Carol, this may seem out of the blue but I really need you to answer this question.  Did Justin ever dance, I mean exotic dancing-  you know the kind where he was hired for birthdays or events?"

This time Carol's face lost color.  Peter watched as she swallowed hard and nodded her head in acknowledgment. 

"Shit!" Peter said as he pinched his nose with his hand.  "Do you know how to reach him?  I mean this is really important."

The light was waning and it was almost dark outside.  Carol looked at her watch and saw that it was past closing time for the gallery.  Her instincts had always been good when it came to choosing artists and she made a decision to trust this man. 

"Let me close up and we'll talk in my office."  She pointed to a hallway in the back of the gallery.

Peter nodded his head in acceptance of her invitation and made his way to the back of the gallery.  He glanced at the paintings on the wall and admired Mr. Taylor's work.  A sense of sadness washed over him as he realized what he was about to do, the things he was going to share about his childhood friend, but he'd been the partner with a therapist long enough to know that John's thinking was delusional and he needed help.

Peter heard the door chime a few times, guessing that Carol was thanking guests for visiting and then he heard a light switch go off. The gallery was carpeted, but he heard the unmistakable flap of shoes on carpet.  Carol came back to the office a few minutes later and brought a pitcher of water and another glass.  She sat behind her desk, a large oak piece with an open desk calendar on the right side.  There were several files scattered on the surface and a file with pictures of paintings open on the desk. She moved the file away, careful not to spill water on the pages as she poured each of them a tall glass and placed one of the glasses in front of Peter.  She took several sips of her water and then took several deep breaths.

"Mr....., I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name." The sound of a clock in the hallway chimed six times.

"Peter Helio."  He stuck out his hand to shake Carol's a second time, appraising her and his next step. He placed her age about 40, but her immaculate attire and well-done makeup showed a very professional woman.  

"Good to meet you, Mr. Helio." She leaned over the desk and shook his hand and then sat back down.  She looked at his dark gray trousers with their pleated front and small cuff on the bottom.  He wore a traditional white buttoned-down business shirt, but no tie.  He smelled faintly of cologne, but she couldn't put her finger on the scent.  This man didn't seem like a stalker to her and her instincts told her to trust him.

"Call me Peter," he said.

"Okay Peter, then you can call me Carol," after he nodded in agreement, she continued, "that was a strange question you asked me in the gallery.  May I ask what prompted it?"

"I thought his face looked familiar."

Carol nodded in response, but she felt that this wasn't the entire truth.

"What aren't you telling me, Peter?  Your face drained of color out there when I said he used to be a dancer.  Familiarity wouldn't result in your response."

"It's complicated."

"Isn't everything?"  Carol said, remembering the many conversations she'd had with Justin and Brian.  It seemed that complicated described their lives and this was just one more complication.

"You said that Mr. Taylor lives in Pittsburgh?  Does his partner live there too?" Peter wanted to make certain he had all the facts, or at least as much as he could piece together from this short conversation.

"Yes.  I told you that.  Peter...."

"I don't normally come to galleries in the middle of the workday, Carol, but I was prompted by my friend to do so.  He recently visited Pittsburgh and told me that he was there at the invitation of Mr. Taylor."  Peter decided he needed to come out with the blunt truth.  Hopefully, Carol would be able to shed some light on the situation, but he didn't hold out much hope.

Carol gasped, her mouth dropped open and she felt her heart race. "What?  That is absurd.  Justin wouldn't do that.  He and Brian are in a very committed relationship."

"From what little I know, I think I agree with you.  My friend's been acting very strange in the last few weeks and today he told me that Mr. Taylor invited him to come back to Pittsburgh to be the subject of his next work.  I came here today to see if Mr. Taylor existed and to see if I could figure out what is going on."

"This is very disturbing. I need to tell Justin about your friend.  I think your friend needs help."  Carol said as she hoped that Peter would agree that something needed to be done. 

"I was hoping that you would feel that way.  My partner happens to be a therapist, I think I'll ask him what might be best to do."

"Peter, I don't usually share my artist's personal life with the public, but something told me that you needed to know.  I'm glad I trusted my instincts."  Carol got up to shake Peter's hand.

"Me too.  I took a long shot in asking you those questions.  I'm very worried about my friend."

"I would be worried too. Thankfully you have some resources at your disposal.  I'll let you go and please talk to your partner about your friend.  I don't want anyone to get hurt.  What is your friend's name?  It might be needed by the authorities if he approached Justin."

A cold chill ran through Peter's body as he thought of John approaching Mr. Taylor.  He seems so delusional now.  What if he tries to meet Justin or goes to his house?  I would hate to see Mr. Taylor be a victim, like John Lennon.

"His name is John Scott.  He's about 6 feet tall with light brown short hair.  He is lightly muscular, not a real gym guy but he keeps in shape.  Sorry, but there aren't any real discernible traits about him."

"Thank you for your time, but I better be calling Justin and his partner.  Will you let me know if anything new happens?"

"Of course. I plan on coming back later this weekend with my partner.  He would enjoy the exhibit.  Will you be working then?"

Carol reached into her drawer and pulled out two comp tickets.  "Here.  Enjoy another visit on me. Justin and I are in your debt."

Peter stood up, taking the tickets and tilted his head toward Carol. 

"Thank you.  I'll be in touch."

Carol walked Peter to the front of the gallery, turning on lights as they walked.  When Peter walked into the dark night, Carol walked back to the office, turning off the lights as she made her way.  Sitting at her desk, she grabbed her Rolodex and spun it to find Brian and Justin's number.

Finding the number, she rehashed the short meeting with Peter Helio and his information about his friend John.  She needed to tell them what she found out and hope that Peter would be able to take care of his friend.

Picking up the phone, she dialed, "Brian, It's Carol we need to talk."

TBC

Brian enjoyed the closeness that lovemaking brought and regretted that it had taken him so long to admit his love for Justin.  He would never willingly admit that he regretted anything, but if pressed, he would admit that he was sorry how he'd treated Justin in their early years and that he hadn't been more supportive.  He wished that he didn't have to show his support by providing protection to his partner, but as he'd learned so painfully in the past few years, we didn't get to choose everything that happened in our lives.  

When the caller ID identified Carol his body went on alert.  He felt his heart beating as fast as it had an hour ago when he and Justin were in the deep throws of lovemaking and his neck tensed as he felt the vague beginnings of a headache in the making.  Stepping out of their room, he gently closed the door, trying to avoid waking Justin up from his much needed nap.

Brian listened carefully as Carol reviewed the conversation she had with Peter Helio.  He wrote some notes and nodded his head as he listened.  About mid-way through the conversation, he saw the door open and Justin look at him, watching as the frown lines around his mouth deepened and his eyebrows furrowed.  Justin recognized that look, it was the one he made when he wasn't pleased with the information he was hearing.  He wondered who could be on the phone.  Brian appeared disturbed, his body on alert and Justin mouthed "What" but Brian shook his head.  Justin walked toward Brian, stopping a few feet away as he heard the tail end of the conversation.

"Thank you, Carol.  Let me know if you get any more information."  Brian pushed the end button on his phone and ran his hand through his hair several times, then pinched the bridge of his nose before turning toward Justin.  

"Why is Carol calling you this late in the evening?  Did something happen at the exhibit?  Oh, no!!  Tell me nothing happened at the gallery.  I can't handle any more problems."  Justin slid down the wall, bending his knees to his chest and lowering his head into them.  He started to hyperventilate and Brian dropped down beside him and hugged him close. The sound of a siren was faintly heard through the thick window panes.  The flashing lights illuminated the street for a moment as an emergency vehicle raced to its destination.

Brian took his face in his hand, turning it towards him and speaking in a soft voice.  "Nothing happened to your show.  All the pieces are fine."  Brian said, assuring Justin who was starting to queen out. He could feel the muscles in Justin's torso tighten and hear the shallow breaths as his body reacted to its fears.

Justin raised his head and turned to look at Brian, his face filled with questions he was too afraid to ask "Why did she call?"

Brian reached out to hold Justin's hands and gave him a gentle kiss.  The blower from the furnace kicked on and blew a blast of air in their direction. Neither of them felt the warmth as they were chilled from other sources.

"There was a visitor to the gallery this afternoon," Brian said, gently leading up to Carol's revelation.

"Brian, there are many visitors to the gallery; that is why I have shows.  What's your point?"  Justin's impatience was evident as he crossed and uncrossed his legs, pulling away from Brian slightly.

"He came to see the exhibit to see if you actually existed."

"Of course I exist. Why would someone come to the gallery to see my show if he didn't think I existed?  You're talking in riddles and I'm losing patience.  Something Carol said spooked you; just tell me what has you so worried!"

Brian gave Justin another kiss on his head, just above where the bat hit him many years ago.  It was a gesture Justin found endearing; Brian's way of acknowledging the bashing without talking about the obvious.  Assuring himself that Justin was okay and still there with him, Brian continued sharing Carol's conversation.  "The man has a friend who told him the two of you were involved."  Brian spoke very softly, hoping Justin wouldn't fly off the handle and they could talk about this latest piece of information. 

Justin leapt up off the floor and hit the wall with his hand.  "What the Fuck!!   I didn't..."  Justin became very quiet and looked at his partner.  "You don't be..."

Brian's hopes of keeping Justin calm were gone; now it was Brian's job to support Justin in whatever way necessary. Brian got up off the floor, walking quickly to Justin and wrapped his arms around him from behind, squeezing gently as he tried to calm his partner.

"No.  I know you didn't do that.  Evidently, this guy's friend has been acting a little off and he confronted him.  He told him that he met you at your last opening and you two hit it off.  Then you asked him to come to the Pitts so you could get to know him better.  It didn't sound right to his friend so he decided to check out your exhibit at June Kelly.  Luckily, Carol was there and sensed the need to listen and discuss their concerns."

"That is supremely creepy.  Think he is the same guy who sent the pictures?"

"Undoubtedly.  John, that is the stalker's name, told his friend that you invited him back here to be the subject of your next piece.  He plans on coming back here sometime next week."

"Oh.  Shit!   Can't we do something?"  Justin looked at Brian for guidance.  Walking to the living area, he went to the liquor cabinet and poured himself a shot of Beam.  Knocking it back quickly he poured another shot and drank it as well.  Holding the bottle in his hand, he looked at it as if it held the answers to his problems.

Brian gently removed the bottle from Justin and poured himself a shot, quickly downing it. Placing the glass on the top of the cabinet and returning the bottle to the interior, he grabbed Justin's hand and led him to the couch. The ice maker hummed and a few ice cubes fell into the tray.  Brian reached over and switched on a light, keeping it on the first setting, providing illumination to the room without glare.  Looking into Justin's face, he hated what he saw there; the fear, the anger and the confusion from his past decisions haunting his present life.

"It's totally fucked, but getting shit faced isn't the answer," Brian said as he took the glass from Justin, placing it on the table.

Justin laughed.  "That's priceless coming from the king of pain management.  So, what do I do?  I can't just let this guy come looking for me."

"Well, now that we have a name, we can get a restraining order for him.  In the meantime, I don't want you alone.  This guy is delusional, he could do anything.  He thinks you invited him here and judging from the notes he left with the pictures he sent, he thinks that you two are together."

"But those pictures are from when I was dancing."  Justin rubbed his hands together and tapped his mouth with his index fingers.  "I promise I have never gone out with this guy.  You believe me, don't you Brian?"  It scared Justin to think that Brian had any doubts regarding his supposed relationship with this creep.

Brian leaned over and hugged Justin, kissing him on the lips, as he swiped his tongue over the dark red surface.  Opening up to the invitation, Justin kissed Brian back, the kiss giving him the reassurance he so desperately needed at this point in time.  Brian was his, he was Brian's, and he believed in them.  He felt himself relax into the kiss and wrapped his arms around Brian's neck.  The kiss continued for a minute, but then Brian pulled away.

"Of course I believe you. I just said this guy is delusional; he's living in a fantasy world that his mind created. According to Peter, John's friend, you were the entertainment for his birthday a few years back.  Evidently, that is where the pictures came from.  You performed your little dance number for him and he took it a little too seriously."

"But Brian, I haven't danced in over 3 years."  Justin scrubbed his face with both hands.

"I know.  Justin, I really think you need to come out to the public about your dancing.  It will solve a lot of future entanglements.  I spoke with Carol about it the other day and she agreed.  The next guy who finds pictures may not think you are his boyfriend, but want to give them to the press.  If you tell the press now, it will hopefully prevent any further issues."

"But Brian.  What about your clients?"

"Justin, don't worry about my clients.  It's not like you were doing drugs or were prostituting yourself.  You were making an honest living. You were working to support yourself."

"Are you sure?"

"Justin, I'm sure.  And if I lose a few clients, as a result, screw them.  Your safety and peace of mind is worth more than anything I could make from any client. I could close Kinnetik tomorrow and support us both for many years to come,"  Brian hugged Justin and kissed him again, this time on the lips.

Justin returned the kiss and smiled a half smile.

"If you really think so.  I'll do it.  But how do I do it?"

"I'm sure Carol could help and I bet Tim Callen would be willing to help."

"I forgot about him.  I think you're right.  He always seemed to be very supportive of my career."

"And he already knows about the dancing.  He can be trusted."  Brian got up from the couch and grabbed the TV control.  "There's nothing we can do tonight.  In the morning we'll call Melanie and Carl to address the legal stuff.  Carol can contact Tim to set up something as well."  He flicked on the set and clicked on Netflix.  "Let's catch up on Defiance.  That show has some really creepy characters that aren't even human.  Datak reminds me of a cross between an undead zombie and Riff Raff from Rocky Horror every time I see him."

"I'm impressed.  I didn't think you were paying attention the last time we watched."

"Oh yeah, I pay attention.  I see you salivate every time a commercial comes on and they show the animated characters in the game.  I see your mind moving trying to figure out how you can get Rage into online gaming mode."

"You know me so well."  Justin laughed at Brian's words but knew them to be true.  "Wouldn't it be cool to be able to animate Rage like that?"

"Twat.  It's bad enough that there is a comic book with me as a hero.  I'd never live it down if I were an online personality too.  Now come here and let's watch some creepy aliens."  Brian opened his legs for Justin to sit between them and Justin scooted over.

 "Okay."  Justin agreed.

They both rose early; worried about the upcoming events, but neither talked about them as they showered and completed their morning rituals.  Brian went to the kitchen to fix some coffee and Justin joined him making eggs and toast.  They read the paper as they ate breakfast.

"Do you really think that telling the public is the way to go?" Justin asked, still wrestling with the decision.

"Yes.  Why don't we call Carol?  You can talk to her."

They called Carol and her assistant came on again.  This time when Brian announced who he was, she told him to hold and then Carol picked up the phone a few minutes later.

"Brian. Good Morning.  Is Justin there?  Have you told him about John?"

Brian pushed the phone's speaker button so they could both hear the conversation.

"Hi Carol,"  Justin said.  "Brian told me.  Do you think I could talk to John's friend?  Maybe it's all a mistake."

"I have his information, but I don't think it's a mistake, Justin.  His friend's name is Peter Helio and he was very worried about John.  His number is 555-4444.  He said I could contact him.  It might be a good idea to call him and share your side of the story.  He told me his partner is a therapist.  Maybe he could provide some insight as well."

"I'll call him.  My best friend is a therapist as well.  I've been thinking of talking to her too."

"Great.  He seems really concerned and I am too.  Justin, I think this guy could be really dangerous." Carol looked at her notes from last night and picked up her Rolodex.  

"Justin, Brian and I were discussing a news conference or interview for you to share your dancing career with the public.  I've taken the liberty of talking to Tim Callen this morning and he agreed that it would be a good idea.  I can set up something with him if you'd like.  He could interview you and then write a quick piece for publication.  With the way the tabloids pick news up these days, it would be out in public in less than 24 hours."

"I guess," Justin said, resigned to his fate.

"Carol, do you think that putting that information out there would escalate things with John?"

"I'm not a crime specialist or a therapist.  You might want to check with other people who are."

"My second mom's husband is a cop.  I'll talk to him and my friend; I'm sure they'll help out."  Justin rounded his shoulders and looked down at the table, studying the crumbs from his breakfast toast as he thought of the upcoming discussions.  Daphne knew about his dancing, but Carl did not.  He liked Carl and didn't want to be embarrassed in front of him.  He wondered again why he ever thought it was a good idea to support himself by exotic dancing.

"Just say the word and I'll call Tim.  Brian, are you still there?"

"Sure, Carol. What can I do for you?"

"Peter seemed to think John would be returning to Pittsburgh next week.  I'm worried about Justin's safety. Can you see that he isn't alone?  Who knows what is going on in his mind?  He might come to your home or go to the studio.  I'd feel better knowing Justin wasn't by himself."

 "I said something to him to that effect earlier, but he was reluctant.  Now he might think about my suggestion."

"I'm right here, guys," Justin said as he scowled at Brian. "I'll talk to Mel and Carl. See what they say and if they think it's a good idea, then I'll do it."

"We'll keep you informed and you might talk to Tim to give him a head's up."

"I'll have him call you this afternoon.  Is that good, Justin?"

Justin nodded his head, but then remembered he was on speaker phone.  "Yes.  It appears that I'll be under lock and key until this thing is over," he said, biting his lower lip in frustration.

"You're not a prisoner, Justin.  We just want you safe," Brian said as he leaned over to kiss Justin lightly on the lips.  "We'll let you go, Carol.  We have a lot of people to talk to." 

"Bye, Justin.  Bye Brian.  I'll be talking to you this evening for an update."

They hung up the phone and Justin looked at Brian.  Picking up the breakfast dishes, he placed them in the dishwasher. 

"I'm taking a shower.  Want to join me?  I'll be protected if you're there," he said, the anger in his voice evident but the neediness came through as well.

Brian didn't answer but slapped Justin's ass as he walked toward their bedroom.

TBC

Peter shook hands with Carol and walked out the door.  The buzz of the street lights hummed in the air and the numerous manholes that allowed air to circulate and escape from the subways added additional wind to the red, yellow and orange leaves that made their own dancing canvas outside the gallery. If Peter had not been so unnerved by the conversation with Carol, he might have enjoyed nature's canvas.

New York was a city that never slept and the sidewalks were filled with commuters making their way home or to the corner bar for a quick drink with friends before heading home for the evening.  Glancing at the many faces of his fellow city dwellers, he briefly wished he was one of them, coming home from work, laughing at something someone said or stepping into a local tavern, apparently without a care in the world.  Instead, he was faced with one of the most difficult situations in his entire life and he couldn't decide where to go first.

He tightened his coat around his torso, buttoning it to keep out the evening chill; although he was uncertain if the chill was from the weather or from his mind as he sorted through the information Carol had provided this afternoon.  Stepping back from the crowd so he didn't block the sidewalk, he leaned on the wall of a nearby building.  Glancing at his watch, he saw it was 6:15 and he realized that Michael would be late tonight.  Michael volunteered at The Center once a week and tonight was his night; he wouldn't be home until at least 8:00.  Peter toyed with the idea of going to the youth center and asking him to leave early but quickly decided against it. He could wait two hours.

Rewrapping his black scarf around his neck, he left his perch against the building and walked until he came to the Reservoir, a bar that looked quiet enough for his mood.  Most of the wooden stools were filled, but he managed to snag one toward the end of the bar.  He ordered a Fat Tyre, preferring foreign beers over domestic any day. 

He loved to people watch; it was one of the fun activities that brought him and Michael together. They were attending a birthday party for a mutual friend but did not know each other.  Neither of them was the flashy center of attention guests and preferred to enjoy the party a little away from the main hub.  Reaching for the same spoon from the buffet line, they had each felt an immediate attraction to the other man.  They spent the remainder of the evening getting to know each other and had been a couple since shortly after the party.

He remembered introducing him to John, worried that John wouldn't like him since John rarely liked Peter's dates, but was pleased when John approved.  Despite their awkward first fumblings in John's bedroom where they explored what it meant to be a gay man and decided that friends was all they were meant to be, he still wanted John's approval for the men he dated.  They had been so naïve back then, wanting to go to Stonewall and waxing about the ‘supposed back room'.   Smiling fondly at those memories, he laughed at his adolescent self, thankful that he'd outgrown that stage in his life. 

He'd drunk about half his beer, allowing himself to waylay his thoughts back to pleasant times, but the sound of a patron calling out brought him back to reality.  Hearing "John" he quickly looked around the bar, half expecting his friend to be there, but knew instinctively he would not find him.  The condensation on his glass formed little beads of water and he watched in fascination as the droplets slid down the side onto the little coaster the bartender provided with his drink. He was surrounded by people but alone.  He finished his beer, left a tip and returned outside to the cold damp night where he took the subway back to his apartment.

He changed into lounge pants and a grey Henley that fit nicely on his well-built torso.  Going into the kitchen he scrounged in the pantry and fridge for a quick meal as he did not feel like cooking and he knew Michael would have eaten at The Center.  His stomach grumbled as he grabbed a box of leftover Chinese and placed it in a small white bowl.  After heating the food, he sat at the small breakfast bar to eat.  He looked at the mail as he finished his dinner and then placed his dishes in the dishwasher.

They lived in a small apartment and there were no spaces where someone could retreat.  Peter sat on the couch and allowed his mind to wander. What happened?  John has always been normal.  I've known him since we were 17.  He's well-liked and respected, has a great job and a great family.  They never gave him any trouble when he came out, super supportive and have even tried to fix him up a few times.  Maybe I'm wrong, but how could I be?  John told me he is in a relationship with Justin Taylor, the artist.  He tells me these stories about the guy inviting him to get to know him better and now he says he wants him to pose for a piece.  Carol says Justin is in a long term relationship.  Maybe John misunderstood Justin, that could happen.  John is lying to everyone and if I hadn't pushed him, he would be lying to me too.  That is so unlike him.  What happened? Peter was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't hear Michael come in and his thoughts were interrupted when Michael leaned down to kiss him.

"Oh, hi.  I didn't hear you come in." Peter said as he smiled a little sheepishly at his partner.

"I see.  What has you so preoccupied?  Usually, when I come home from The Center you are lying in bed waiting to ravage me.  You're wearing your ragged lounge pants and practically sitting in the dark."  He reached over and turned on the lamp beside the end of the couch before he sat down next to Peter and kissed him again.  "You look terrible.  Bad day at work?"

Peter gave Michael a half smile and sighed. Turning toward his partner, he noticed that Michael still had his coat and scarf on.

"Take your coat and scarf off and go change.  We need to talk and it will probably take a while."

Michael frowned but did as Peter asked.  He came back to the couch with two beers and gave one to Peter.  Peter looked at it, twirling the cold bottle in his hand a few times and then popped the top.

"I'm here, so talk," Michael said when Peter didn't start sharing.

"I left work early today and went to the June Kelly gallery." Peter's thoughts were so jumbled; he was unsure where to start his story. His hand went up to the top of the couch and played with the edge of the afghan they kept there. 

"Okay," Michael said, not sure why this was important.

"I got a call from John at work and he told me his new boyfriend wanted him to come to Pittsburgh to pose for his new work.  I asked him the name of the gallery where the guy's work was being displayed and that is how I ended up at the June Kelly Gallery in the late afternoon instead of finishing a project that I've been working on all week."  He sighed as he remembered the almost finished project and the looming deadline. Shit.  I'm going to have to put in some extra time tomorrow and Friday so that we can have the weekend free.  We're supposed to go out with Alan and Sam and if I don't finish the project I'll be working instead of playing.

"Well, that's exciting.  Is the artist talented?  Does it give you a vicarious thrill to know that you know the boyfriend of the artist?"  Michael smiled, not understanding why this news would be so disconcerting to Peter.  He took a draw from his beer and put it on a coaster on the coffee table in front of the couch.  The table was the first piece of furniture they had purchased together and he remembered how they had both seen it at the store at the same time and walked toward it independently.  It was one of those defining moments when they knew they were a couple. The table was a deep cherry wood color and had sleek lines; it really was nothing special but both of them had been pulled to it just as they were pulled toward each other.  He was happy that Peter's friend had found someone as Peter frequently lamented about John's lack of a partner.

"Yes, the artist is very talented.  His work really stirs my emotions.  Every piece is a joy to view. But..."

"Where's the but?  He's real and he's talented.  What's not to like?"  Michael finished his beer and went to the kitchen to grab another one.  He'd heard Peter's stomach rumble earlier in their conversation and decided that he needed to make a small snack.  He grabbed the bag of cheese cubes they kept in the fridge and put a handful of crackers on a plate.  He added a few grapes as well.  Placing the plate on the beloved coffee table, he grabbed a small cube of cheese and popped it in his mouth.

"I ran into his agent while I was there and we chatted.  The ‘but' is that the artist has a boyfriend, more like a partner.  They've been together for a really long time.  I think John is lying."  He finally said the words out loud and made a big exhale. 

"Maybe not.  Have you considered they have an open relationship or there is trouble in their paradise?" Michael put his hands toward his head and made the motion of putting on a hat.  "I've got my therapist hat on now, so forget I'm your boyfriend."

Peter nodded his head in agreement.  There were some advantages to being in a relationship with a counselor.  Sometimes it was great to have a trained person to talk to when you were going through a rough time, but other times, they were too rational.  He wasn't sure which one was right here; his gut just told him something was really wrong.

"What exactly did John say to you about this ‘boyfriend'?"

Peter finished the last of his beer and grabbed a few cubes of cheese and some grapes. Taking his time to eat them, he thought about the question and tried to remember the exact wording of his conversations. 

"He told me he met him at the opening of his last show.  But Carol, that's his agent, said his boyfriend always comes to the openings and is very supportive."

"But that doesn't mean that he and his boyfriend weren't fighting that night or don't have an open relationship."

"True.  But why would he lie to everyone about it?  Remember, he told Darren he had a family emergency, he told me he had to go out of town for work and he didn't tell his sister anything.  If he wasn't trying to hide something then why the lies?"  Peter pulled down the afghan from the back of the couch as he suddenly felt chilled.

"Maybe he wanted to be sure of the relationship before he said anything to you?"

"True.  But I just have this horrible feeling.  Oh and I forgot one thing.  I saw a picture of the artist and this guy used to dance for Dancing Beauties.  It gets creepier.  He's the guy I hired a few years back to dance for John for his birthday."  Peter frowned and rubbed his face with his hand and then played with the edges of the afghan.

"Are you sure?  There are lots of cute guys out there?"

"No, I'm sure.  I asked Carol if he ever danced and she confirmed that he did.  I think he went to the opening and saw Justin, recognized him from his party a few years back and has become delusional, dreaming up a life for the two of them."

Michael laughed.  "You've been watching too many crime shows on TV.  What you are describing is so out in left field, it would be highly unlikely."  Michael leaned over and kissed Peter.  "I suggest we take your overactive imagination to bed and find some other ways to occupy it for the evening."

"But what if I'm right?  Isn't there something where you have to warn the guy?" The ice maker dropped some cubes into the bin.  Peter ran his hand through his hair and stretched his arms above his head.

"I do have a duty to warn if I think someone is in danger of hurting themselves or others.  Nothing you've told me leads me to believe that is the case.  If it will make you feel better, why don't we have dinner with John tomorrow and I can chat with him myself."  Michael nodded in agreement, happy that some of the discussions they had about his work had rubbed off on Peter.  Michael trusted Peter's intuition but he thought that Peter was jumping to conclusions.  Talking to John face to face would give him an opportunity to watch his body language, to see for himself what information he provided.  He often learned as much from what his patients didn't say as what they did.

"You would do that?" Peter smiled, thrilled at the invitation.  He was torn between wanting to have his fears acknowledged; there was something really wrong with John, and being told he was the one blowing the whole situation out of proportion. He let out a sigh of relief and grabbed two cheese cubes and a few crackers, eating them with gusto.

"Of course.  I like John and if he's in trouble, I want to help.  If he's got a new boyfriend, I'd like to hear all about him. If he really is delusional, then we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. You know some people keep their relationships secret for any number of reasons, especially gay men. It doesn't matter if he knows it will be accepted, if he doesn't feel it will be accepted, by everyone, he might hide it."

Peter was still worried about John, but Michael did have a point. He definitely knew the lengths some people would go to avoid being confronted with something they didn't understand, and John was the type of person who would do that. He was still worried that John might possibly be delusional, but he'd wait until he had his partner's professional opinion about his best friend.

Peter reached over and gathered Michael in his arms and kissed him on the mouth.  "Thank you. I love you."

"You're welcome, and I love you too.  Now let me show you how much."  Michael stood up from the couch and grabbed Peter's hand, walking him toward their bedroom where they showed each other how much they meant to each other for several hours.

Brian hated the situation; Justin was feeling trapped and he was feeling protective.  Justin had always been very resourceful and independent; his independence the cause of some of their current problems.  But Brian was not going to bring up the dancing as it was something they could not undo.  They were going to address their current situation in the best way possible, put the information out in public, not hide and hope it went away. 

He grabbed the soap and lathered the bar in his hands, inhaling the familiar silky sandalwood and vanilla.  He liked Prada and even the Prada's line of cleansers fit his image of a successful man.  Justin didn't really care one way or another about shampoo and cleansers; he just didn't like anything too strong as it bothered his allergies.  Justin loved the way Brian smelled and inhaled deeply when given the opportunity. Brian was intent on taking Justin's mind off the current snag in their lives, at least for a little while.  He knew the easiest and most pleasant way to do this was to get Justin in the shower and make love to him there.  They both loved water and making love under the shower spray brought back fond memories for both of them.  There was something primeval about water spraying down from above as you entered your partner in the most intimate joining possible. 

Brian stood behind Justin, running his hands on Justin's shoulders and then gently massaging his neck.

"Relax.  We're in this together and everyone is supporting you."

At Brian's words, Justin tensed instead of relaxing.  Brian leaned over and kissed his neck gently and then dug his thumbs and forefingers into the tightened neck muscles. 

"I love you,"  Brian said as he continued the massage, knowing those words would be magical as well.  Justin no longer wondered if Brian loved him and he had come to accept Brian's difficulty with saying them out loud, but when he heard them, it always resulted in a  warm feeling running through his body; a kind of melting of the heart.  Brian chose the times he spoke those words and that made them even more special. 

"Mmm," was the only response Brian received but he felt Justin's neck relax a little and knew his words helped. 

Brian moved his hands to wash Justin's chest, enjoying the slippery feel of the skin beneath his hands.  He stopped to play with Justin's nipples for a few moments, happy to feel the hardened nubs beneath his fingertips.  Brian picked up the soap to lather his hands and washed down Justin's back and sides.  Moving around to his front side again, he played with his stomach as he brought his body next to Justin's back.  Feeling Justin push back against Brian, he dropped his hands down to Justin's cock that was jutting out from his body.  His slippery hands glided up and down the shaft, causing Justin to moan in enjoyment. 

"Like that?" Brian whispered in his ear.

"I need you.  Now!" Justin grunted as he felt the familiar rushing in his body.

Brian took his hands and opened Justin's ass cheeks and played with the pucker, sliding his finger along the outside of the sensitive skin.

"Now Brian.  I'm ready."  He pushed back again and leaned forward a little so Brian would have better access.

Brian gently pushed into the tight ring and Justin sighed in a mixture of relief and ecstasy.  He needed Brian, needed to be joined with his partner, and needed the connection that only lovemaking can bring.  His body needed relief from the teasing and arousal that Brian had quickly brought to it.  Brian completed him and he was thankful he was in his life. They had been through so much to get to this point in life and he was happy that they had persevered.  He pushed back; meeting Brian's thrust and quickly found himself on the precipice of release.  Wanting to postpone the ride but needing a release, the choice was taken from him when Brian grabbed his cock giving him the added stimulation to push him over the edge.  Justin's climax triggered Brian's and then continued to stand under the raining water as their bodies adjusted. 

Justin felt relaxed and peaceful; a feeling that was refreshing after the last few hours. 

"Thank you," he said as he turned around and kissed Brian.

"My pleasure.  Why don't we finish our shower and..."

"Don't.  Let's enjoy this.  Real life will return soon enough."

Brian nodded his head in agreement and returned to his shower ritual.

Forty-five minutes later they returned to the kitchen to start the unpleasant task of addressing the stalker.  Justin was wearing a pair of cargo pants and a blue T-shirt with the MOMA logo on it.  He put on a fresh pot of coffee.  After carefully folding the paper and stacking it on the counter, he wiped down the table with a damp cloth. He grabbed the cloth by the sink and wiped down the counter next to the coffee maker and then wiped an imaginary mark off the stainless steel fridge. 

"Justin, we're not getting ready for a dinner party, just come and sit at the table."  Brian motioned toward the chair next to where he was sitting.  Justin walked to the cabinet and pulled out a coffee mug with the MOMA logo on it and stood by the coffee maker waiting for the coffee to drip into the carafe below.  Brian didn't say anything but nodded his head when Justin motioned toward him to see if he wanted some fresh coffee as well.

"We're only doing this to make you safe." Brian ran his hand through his short brown hair, pushing his bangs back.  He was wearing a pair of faded jeans and a wife beater.  Justin always wondered how Brian never managed to get cold in the house, but he never tired of seeing the sculpted muscles of his partner on display.

Justin filled both cups of coffee and ritualistically added the appropriate amount of cream and sugar to Brian's cup.  He blew over his cup and then took a tentative sip.  Giving Brian a half smile, he handed him his cup and sat down at the table. 

"What will they think?" he asked in a soft voice, almost as if he asked it quietly it would soften the impact.

"Think?" Brian said.  He looked at Justin trying to ascertain the meaning of the question and waited for an answer.

Justin took a deep breath, hesitating to put his thoughts into words.  Once he acknowledged his fears, somehow they became more real, not just his imagination running wild. "You, my mom, and Daphne are the only ones that know that I was supporting myself through dancing.  As far as everyone else knows, I was working as a waiter when I was in New York.  It's bad enough that the whole world is going to know I was a dancer in a few short hours, but the whole world doesn't know me.  Carl, Debbie, Mel.... They all know ME; well at least they probably think they know me." Justin placed his head in his hands, not sure if he could continue this conversation. 

Brian did not enjoy angst and hated when anyone was upset.  He definitely hated when his partner was upset. It was painful to see the man he loved in so much pain, but at least this pain was easily controlled. He could understand the practice of buying things to distract someone from the uncomfortable or to cheer them up.  Receiving gifts always made people smile and the old adage that you can't cry when you're smiling was true.  He wished he could take Justin away for some much needed retail therapy but understood that this was one time where the uncomfortable feelings and tasks had to be addressed.

"He that is without sin cast the first stone," Brian said, using words to provide the levity he desired.

Justin looked up and opened his mouth in astonishment.

"I was an altar boy when I was younger, shoot me.  But really Justin, Debbie got pregnant by a drag queen.  Mel did a spread in Playboy.  We've all done things that we aren't proud of."

"Mel did a spread in Playboy?" Justin repeated. His eyes got big as he repeated the statement.

"Yeah, Linds told me about it.  Helped pay her way in law school when her family cut her off after they learned she was a muncher."

Justin scrunched his nose and eyes in distaste and shook his head to get rid of the vision of Mel posing for a centerfold.

"Okay, we all have our sordid pasts.  What did you do?" Justin decided this game was a great distraction, silently hoping it would derail the phone calls he needed to make.

"Remember Judge Roy?  Stuck to the seat in his chambers..."

Giggling as he remembered the pictures on the news, he smiled for the first time this morning. "But that was different.  Did you do anything you regret?"

"Of course.  But we're not here to rehash all my regrets.  We want to finish our phone calls before Tim calls." Brian, never one to share many personal secrets, picked up Justin's phone and gave it to him.

"This isn't over.  We're going to talk some more, mister."  Justin swiped his phone and looked up Mel's number, pushing the dial button when he located it.

"Melanie Marcus please," he said.  Looking at Brian for the much-needed support, he sighed in resignation as the moment of truth was finally here and he could no longer avoid sharing his past.

"Mel, its Justin.  Do you have a minute?"

"My client just left." Looking at her calendar, she noted the next client wasn't scheduled for two hours.  "Sure.  What do you need?"

"I found out more about the guy who sent the pictures."  Justin laid his phone on the table, pushing the speaker button.  Brian grabbed his hand and held it for support while his other hand was placed supportively on his back. 

"Did he call again?" Mel leaned back in her leather chair as she grabbed a legal pad to write down information from the conversation.

"It's kind of a long story.  He told his best friend that we were dating."

"Dating?  Justin..."

"Mel, can you just let Justin tell his story.  This is hard enough without you playing lawyer and giving him the second degree,"  Brian said as he picked up the phone, almost willing Mel to see his frustration.

"His friend went to the gallery to check and see if I was real.  His friend thought something was wrong with the scenario.  After seeing my picture at the front of the gallery, he realized that I was the dancer he'd hired for his friend's birthday party a few years ago.  His friend came to the opening and saw me and it appears that he's developed an elaborate history for us.  Luckily he ran into Carol and thankfully they started sharing information.  Carol called us last night after the friend left. " Justin said the tale as quickly as possible, not taking any breaks for his emotions to come through.  He hoped Mel did not want further details.

"Wait a minute.  He knew you before this started.  The pictures he sent were from your time as a dancer and you danced for him?"

"Yes."

"When were you a dancer? How did he get pictures?  Were you ever involved with him?"

"I was an Erotic dancer for a bit; it helped pay the bills."  Justin swallowed hard and he could feel himself getting warm and was thankful she wasn't there to see his embarrassment.  "But I never did anything but dance.  No, I was never involved with him," Justin yelled.

Brian shushed him and rubbed his back in a supportive measure.  "Calm down, Sunshine.  She's being the lawyer right now, not your friend."

Melanie heard Brian's words and realized their impact.

"Justin, I wasn't accusing you.  I just need the facts so that I can protect you.  If this guy had a relationship with you...   Forget that.  It really doesn't matter if he did or didn't have a relationship with you, you don't have to prove anything to get a protective order.  I'm just trying to understand how this happened."

Justin wiped at his eyes where pools of water were threatening to become tears.  He knew no one but Brian could see him; thankfully Skype was only used when he talked to Carol about work, but he didn't like to have anyone see his tears.  "I was really stubborn and independent.  I wanted to support myself and dancing for "Dancing Beauties" was a great way to earn money at night and be able to paint during the day.  Evidently, the same friend who talked to Carol had hired the company to provide his friend with a dancer on his birthday.  At these parties, people take photos and often give them to the celebrant afterward. This guy kept his photos and when he saw me at the opening a few weeks ago, decided to develop some elaborate fairy tale about the two of us together."

"Shit!!! You aren't letting him out of your sight, Kinney?" Mel said as she furiously made note of the conversation. Something in her feared that this could get ugly and dangerous.

"No, we've got that covered.  He'll be with me or another one of the gang at all times until we catch this guy."

"Good.  So you have his name.  Give me all the particulars and I'll take care of the legal stuff."

"One more thing, Mel..." Justin took a sip of his coffee and swallowed hard before continuing. "I'm going to go public about the dancing.  My agent, Carol, is calling a critic and he's going to interview me and post a piece in today or tomorrow's feeds.  It will be all over the news, or maybe it won't even be a blip on the radar.  But whatever it is, it will no longer be hidden.  I don't want to watch myself forever and I don't want the next nut job thinking he can blackmail me because he has pictures."

"Do you think that will make him mad?"

"Not sure, but I need to do this.  I can't put Brian at risk."

"Ok.  Justin, don't beat yourself up over this.  We all do things we regret.  I know I have and .... The people we love accept us and all our flaws." Melanie thought back to her spread in Playboy and how Lindsay acted when she found out.  In the end, it didn't matter, but at the time, it was difficult.  Brian obviously knows about the dancing and appeared supportive of Justin.  She was envious of the two of them, their love finally so strong that they stood by each other.  She and Linds had to fight so hard, but this was not about her and Linds.  It was about Justin and she quickly brought her thoughts back to the present.

"Thanks, Mel.  How long will it take to get the restraining order approved?  Do you have to serve him with it?" Brian asked, wanting to know the specifics, understanding that Justin was too caught up in the information sharing to be worried about the little details.

"I'll get on it right away.  We do have to serve him, but since we know where he is, it should be pretty easy."

"Talk to you soon.  I've got to go."

"That went well," Brian said as he sipped the end of his coffee and got up to make himself a fresh cup. 

"Do you think she..."

Brian poured sugar and cream into the cup and took a tentative sip before returning to the table.  The sun shone outside and the blue skies were bright with color.  The leaves floated down from the trees as the soft wind blew a gentle breeze.  Brian looked out the glass French doors that led to the back yard and noted he should call Linds and have Gus come over to play in them.  He remembered last year when Gus and Justin spent hours raking the leaves into big piles and then destroying them as they jumped in the damp leaves.  He thought they were nuts to want to jump in them, but Justin convinced him to give it a try and he accepted the call of the piles. The scent of piled leaves was unique, a kind of earthy smell with the added feel of crunch. He didn't remember ever jumping in leaves when he was a child; Joan would never have taken the time to rake them and Jack just plain didn't care. He was more interested in hanging with the "guys" at the hall rather than providing a nice looking yard for the neighbors to admire.

He heard Justin's unasked question and hated that they were even having this discussion. "She cares for you.  We all do.  We are your family and she said it herself.  We all do things we regret.  Now, I do not regret being in a relationship with you and I do not regret what you are going to do in sharing your story with Tim.  I support you 110%.  Stop second guessing what other people think. Fuck em."  Brian leaned over and gently caressed Justin's cheek and then gave him a soft kiss on his lips.  Justin closed his eyes as he took in the feelings Brian conveyed with his gestures.  He opened his eyes when Brian leaned back.

"This isn't fair.  He's the one with the whacked out ideas but I'm the one who has to be guarded. There is something wrong with this scenario." Justin picked up the pad of paper with Brian's notes on it and read Brian's notes.  John Scott.  Peter Helio.  Posing for the next piece.  Safety.  Call Carl.  Call Melanie.  Tim Callen.  Ted and press -  "Didn't Carol get the guy's number so I could call him?  Maybe I should call and tell him to talk to his friend.  We're taking this all out of proportion."

Brian put down his coffee cup and reached his hand out for Justin's.  He squeezed it tight and gave him a weak smile.

"We have his name and we've contacted the police.  We're going to be talking to Tim in a little bit.  His friend already told Carol about his concern; that is the best thing that could have happened.  Now we can act.  Calling his friend isn't going to protect you, and it could make it worse if he decides to call his friend and question him about the facts."  The clock ticked in the kitchen, marking the passage of time. 

Justin grabbed a paper napkin from the holder on the kitchen table and balled it up.  "I hate this.  If I had listened to you when I went to New York and accepted your help, we wouldn't be in this situation.  I guess I should listen to you this time."  Justin got up from the table and walked toward the living area of the house. "I'm going to my studio.  I'm obviously not helpful here.  You seem to have everything under control."  Justin wished there was a door to slam but in an open concept home, there weren't many doors. 

Brian didn't say anything nor did he try to stop him.  He understood how frustrated and helpless he felt and wished there was something he could offer Justin to placate him, but he knew there wasn't anything that could make this situation better until they were sure the threat was eliminated.  Eliminated.  How long do we have to keep guard on Justin before we feel he is safe?  Carl said that we can't have him arrested for sending pictures or notes.  He has to do something that would demonstrate to the courts that he is a threat to Justin or himself.  Shit! This keeps getting worse with each passing moment.  I almost wish he would try something so we could have him put away. Damn  Brian slammed his hand on the table in frustration. 

He had called all the people on the list and had set up for one of the gang to be with Justin at all times.  The guy hadn't made any real threats so he didn't think that an actual security company would be needed.  Of course, calling their friends and telling them about the latest development in Justin's life was not the easiest of conversations and he stressed to each of their "family" that he just wanted someone with Justin, not protect him or forbid him from doing what he wanted.  Still, he hoped the guy would actually come to Pittsburgh and show himself so they could lock him up.

He called Ted to provide him an update.

"Anything I can do, Brian.  Just ask and I'll be there."

"Thanks, Theodore.  Running Kinnetik is thanks enough for now.  You may be asked to accompany Justin occasionally, but I think I have that one locked up. "

"Speaking of Kinnetik, I hate to bring this up but we have those interviews tomorrow for the new person in the art department.  I imagine you will want to be there for those."

"Shit! I forgot about those but you're right.  This thing with Justin doesn't have a timeline and it may go on for a while.  I should be in tomorrow.  I can't watch over Justin forever."

"Okay, Brian.  Call me if you need anything."

Tim was scheduled to call about noon and he wanted to be sure Justin was able to talk.  He walked down to the studio and listened at the door.  He didn't hear any music which was a bad sign as Justin always listened to music when he painted.  He tentatively knocked on the door, but he didn't receive a response.  He waited a few moments and knocked again, but did not hear a response either.  He hated going in Justin's studio without an invitation; it was his private domain and he felt like an intruder, but he needed to talk to Justin before the phone call. Grasping the door handle, he turned it, happy that it was unlocked.  He entered the room, seeing Justin sitting on the futon, head in his hands with his head held down.

"Justin.  Tim's calling in a few minutes. We should go downstairs."  Brian bent down to look up into Justin's face and he could see the wet tear tracks on Justin's cheeks. 

"I'm sorry Brian."

"Sorry is bullshit.  You didn't cause this.  John Scott is the one who caused this.  Don't beat yourself up about it.  We're going to have Tim put the information out there and then we won't worry about anyone causing trouble in the future."

"But, what..."

Brian put his arms out and engulfed Justin in a hug, lifting his face out of his hands and a giving him a kiss on the temple. "My answer is the same as the other times we've discussed this.  I don't give a flying fuck about my business or my customers or what they think.  I only care about you and your safety.  If I lose a few accounts due to their lack of understanding that everyone has to make a living, then so be it, but I really don't care.  Carol has assured you numerous times she isn't going to stop showing your work and our friends will understand.  Stop your worrying and let's get this done." 

Justin nodded his head and wiped his tear tracks away with the back of his hand.  "Brian, I l..."

"I know.  Now let's go somewhere more comfortable where we can both sit.  I'm getting too old to crouch on the floor unless it involves fucking your sweet ass."  Brian smiled as he hit said ass with a playful slap.

Justin laughed a little at the playful slap and followed Brian to the living room where they sat on the couch.

The phone rang and Brian saw the caller ID reading Tim Callen.  He pushed the button for speakerphone.

"Hi, Tim.  Thank you for calling."

"Justin, Carol told me a little about the situation.  I agree that this is a good plan.  While this creep doesn't appear to want to sell the pictures, the next guy could."  Tim was sitting in an empty office in Carol's suite.  Carol had offered him the privacy for the interview as he did not have an office at the magazine.  He was assigned a cubicle but as a reporter, he was rarely seen in the office.  The office was small but would work well for his needs.

"Do you really think having this information out there will stop someone from selling to the tabloids?" Justin asked.  He couldn't sit and stood up, walking to the picture window in the front of the room.  He watched the leaves fall from the trees in the yard and looked up and down the empty street. We are so secluded here if only our lives could remain as secluded as our home. " I mean if the tabloids will still buy pictures, why put the information out there?  It won't really protect anything."  Justin tried one last time to avoid the interview, hoping his argument held some weight.

"Pictures are sensational.  Tabloids like sensational.  If the public knows about the existence of the pictures, they aren't as sensational." Tim looked at the artwork on the walls of the room. Carol had prints of pieces of some of the artists she represented. There was a large piece with bright reds and yellow swirls that looked like one of Justin's.  He walked over to the piece and searched for the signature and was pleased to see that it was one of Justin's.  He congratulated himself in recognizing this man's amazing work.  He knew he needed to reassure Justin that this was the correct plan of action.

"So the tabloids would still buy the pictures even if I come clean about the dancing?"  Justin frowned when he heard Tim's statement.  He held his palms up towards Brian and gave him a quizzical look, essentially asking him if this were true, but knowing Tim had no reason to lie.  Brian nodded his head in agreement and reached out to rub Justin's back again. 

"I'm not going to lie to you, Justin.  The tabloids might still buy them, but if you come out saying you used to dance, the photos lose some of their appeal.  Tabloids go for scandal. By coming out in a controlled setting - through me- you take some of the future sensationalism off the table.  The public may be interested in seeing you dancing, but the allure of a possible scandal "Pop Artist dances for Pay" has been taken away from the tabloids."  Tim talked in an even tone, trying his best to calm Justin.  He knew both he and Brian were probably freaking out about this situation.

"Okay.  I still don't like it, but I get it.  Tell it now when it's not a big deal or tell it later when you're trying to downplay the damage."  Justin sat down on the couch, slouching a little in resignation.

"Exactly. The whole truth comes out now instead of trying to defend yourself later. Plus you'll never have to worry about future accusations, blackmail or slander because they're public knowledge."

Justin took a deep breath, not even close to being ready, but it would be great if they could put all this behind them, "Alright, ask away Tim.  I trust you."

"I understand that you used to dance before you became an artist.  Can you tell me about that time in your life?"

"I'd been living in New York for about a year and I was spending so much time working two jobs that I didn't have time to paint.  I'd come to New York to paint and I was ready to leave if I didn't have time or energy to do so." He thought back to the day when he received all those bills in the mail and was about to give up, tail between his legs.

 "How'd you hear about the ‘Dancing Beauties'?"

"My really good friend, Jake told me about the company.  He worked there and it allowed him to work and attend auditions and get work as an actor.  It seemed the perfect solution." Jake had called that day and they had gone for a beer and some pool and he had shared his little secret about "Dancing Beauties".

"What did you do at Dancing Beauties?"

"I used to perform at birthday parties, bachelor and bachelorette parties and any other gig where they wanted some fancy dancing."  Fancy dancing.  I remember the King of Babylon contest, the night I entered it to show Brian I was desirable to other guys.  I found out I really did have it in me to dance and then years later...

"Did you ever get propositioned?"

"Occasionally, but that is part of the job.  I was there to make a living, not as a gigolo so before you even ask, no I did not ever sell my body."

"Ok."

"Did people take pictures of your performance?"

"Yes."  Justin felt his heart racing as the questions got more elaborate. It was like he was on the witness stand, but he knew Tim was just doing his job.  Tim knew the basics of the situation and he needed all the pieces in order to write a short article for the feeds. 

"Do you have any of these pictures?" 

Justin drew in a breath at that question.  He knew or at least he thought he knew where that was leading, but he couldn't get the feeling that he had done something wrong as he answered the questions. 

"No.  I don't.  I just have my headshots from when I auditioned for the company."

"How long did you ‘dance'?"

"About 6 months.  I got hurt in an accident.  After the accident, I returned to Pittsburgh to paint."

"Thanks, Justin.  I think I have enough to put out a little article about the dancing.  Hopefully, this will alleviate any future problems."

"Can I see the article before you send it?" Justin asked, wanting to give final approval of his "outing".

"Sure.  I should have it ready in a few hours, I'll send you a copy.  Gone are the days when you had a week or two to get an inside scoop.  I just want you to know that I think you're doing the right thing, sharing this information.  Maybe the creepy guy will read it and realize he's dreaming."

"That would be great, but with my luck, I don't think that will happen.  Still, I appreciate the sentiment."

"I better get off and get to work.  I'll send you this in a few hours."

"Ok."

Justin looked at his phone, turning it over a few times in his hand.  He stood up and walked back to the window, looking at the street again, half surprised that it was still as quiet and suburban as before.  He knew that his world was going to change in a few hours, but for now, he took solace in the quiet that he and Brian had built together. 

"You know, it probably won't stay this quiet when the article comes out.  I can't believe you talked me into this," Justin said quietly, refusing to turn around and look at Brian.  "I can always change my mind when Tim sends me the piece."

Brian walked up to him and wrapped his arms around his neck from behind.  He kissed his neck and the top of his head.

"Justin.  You shouldn't feel regret about dancing.  You went to New York to make your way as a painter and this was only a means to an end.  At 23 you have accomplished more than most people your age.  It's just unfortunate that John is building a fantasy life as a result of a few pictures."  Brian ran his hands down Justin's taut body and cupped his ass, pulling him toward him.  "No, we, and I mean we, are going forward with this.  Maybe John will read the article and realize he's living in a fantasy world."

"Maybe."

"But for now, we take this one day at a time.  Let's go spend some time with Gus.  We haven't seen him in a few days and when you're with him he takes all your attention."

Justin turned around and kissed Brian on the lips.  "You always have great ideas." 

The two men left their home and drove to Mel and Linds where they took Gus for an afternoon of distraction.

The alarm jarred Peter from a sound sleep.  He'd had some difficulty falling asleep last night after the visit to the gallery and his talk with Michael but the familiar beat of Michael's heart beneath his head had lulled him into sleep.  He stretched his arms over his head and yawned widely as he glanced at the clock with its glaring red glow.  He hated mornings in fall and winter when it was still dark outside and he had to venture out to the cold apartment.  While he loved his job, the thought of getting ready this morning was less than appealing.  He remembered his unfinished project and how he would have to put the extra hours in today and tomorrow in order to make his deadline.  He quickly felt resentment towards John for his role in this extra work.  If it hadn't been for his odd behavior and the phone call in the middle of the afternoon, he would not have to be working late. 

He quickly chastised himself for his thoughts as John was his friend and he really thought there was something odd going on.  He remembered Michael's dismissal of his concerns and his offer to have John over for dinner and he felt a little relief.  Once Michael talked to him, everything would be sorted out and then he could return to his "normal" life.  The snooze on the alarm sounded and he shut it off, pulling the warm blanket from his body.  Leaning over he kissed Michael before he padded to the bathroom to get ready for his long day.

By the time he finished his shower and dressing, Michael had gotten up and was making coffee.  They had their morning routine down to a science.  Sometimes Michael would pour cereal in bowls or break the eggs for an omelet, but he would have the beginnings of breakfast ready when Peter emerged from the bedroom.  While Peter drank his coffee, Michael showered and dressed and then they would eat breakfast together.  They would chat for a few minutes and fill each other in on their plans for the upcoming evening; if they were going to be late or had an after work commitment and then they would leave to catch the subway. 

Peter took a bite of his cereal, thinking about their conversation last night.

"I'm going to call John and invite him to dinner tonight. The sooner you talk to him, the better I will feel about this whole "new boyfriend".

"Sure.  I have an early day today.  I can pick up some Italian bread from the bakery and make some spaghetti. What time do you think you'll be home?"

Peter slammed down his hand.  "Shit!"

Michael recoiled slightly from the unexpected outburst, looking at his partner for an explanation. 

"Sorry.  I'm going to have to work late since I left early yesterday to go to that damn gallery.  I might not be home until 8:00 or later."

"Ok.  Why don't you invite John anyway? This would give me time to talk to him alone." Michael scooped some cereal into his spoon.

Peter leaned over and kissed Michael on the lips and smiled.  "I love you.  Thanks."

"My pleasure.  I want you to stop worrying.  You tossed and turned half the night.  I know you were just rehashing every conversation you've had with John in the last few weeks."

"Damn.  You know me so well." Peter smiled at his partner and felt a slight calm come over his body, knowing that Michael had his back.

"I do.  Now we need to get moving or you'll never get home tonight and have to sleep at your office."  Michael reached for both cereal bowls and put them in the dishwasher, and then walked to the bedroom to gather his briefcase, wallet and cell phone.

___________________________________

When he got to his office, he called John.

"John.  I was talking to Michael last night and he mentioned he hasn't seen you in a few weeks and I suggested we get together for dinner. Are you free tonight?"

"Sure.  It will be good to spend a night with you two guys. What time should I get there?"

"About 7:00."

"Great.  See you then. Bye."

Peter hung up the phone and frowned.  Did I just lay a trap for my best friend?  What the hell constitutes a trap?  Inviting him to have dinner with me and my therapist boyfriend to give said therapist a chance to see if he is delusional is not really a trap.  I'm not telling him what to say about his new boyfriend.  I'm just asking him over for a friendly dinner.  I really hope that Michael blows my fears out of the water, but I really don't think that is going to happen.  There are some things that friends just know and I know there is something not right with John.

"Peter.  Peter!" Alan said.

Hearing his name brought him out of his thoughts.  He looked at his door to see his boss, Alan standing there with a concerned frown on his face.

"Everything okay?  You left early yesterday and you seem to be in a fog this morning. I called your name three times before you answered me."

"Sorry.  Is there something you needed?"  Peter fiddled with the pencil on his desk rolling it between his fingers.

"Just wanted a timeline on the Bigelow project?" Alan said.  He was dressed in Khakis and a yellow shirt with a red pullover.  His short brown hair was parted in the middle and his boyish looks made him appear younger than his 40 years.  Alan had founded the company and handpicked each of the staff.  He prided himself in knowing his staff more than just an employee and tried to support each of them when needed.  "Are you sure there is nothing going on?  You seem distracted the last week or so."

Peter toyed with the idea of sharing his concerns with Alan but in the end, decided that this would be unfair.  After all, these were John's problems, not Peter's and while Peter had shared personal information in the past, he didn't want to share this as he wasn't sure what exactly he was sharing. 

"Just got a friend going through some things.  Thanks for noticing.  I'll try and finish the Bigelow project by tomorrow afternoon.  I plan on staying a little late tonight."

"Ok.  They've moved the deadline till a week from Tuesday so you have some extra time.  I'll let you work, but remember I am willing to listen if you need an ear." Alan smiled an encouraging smile and left the doorway to return to his office.

Peter nodded his acceptance and booted up his computer, clicking on the familiar file to start on his portion of the project.  His day went by quickly as he loved his work and was so immersed in it that it was 2:30 before he realized he had not eaten lunch.  He had certain portions of the project that needed completing before he could stop for the day so grabbed an energy bar from his desk drawer and continued working.  He hoped that with the extended deadline, he might be able to make it home before John arrived.

Ted picked up the files of the candidates that were to be interviewed tomorrow.  He'd chosen 5 candidates to interview but starred three of them as most promising.  There was a man from New York, John Scott, that he thought would be a wonderful addition to their art department.  He wondered briefly why someone from New York would choose to relocate to Pittsburgh but then realized that Kinnetik's reputation was increasing in the boutique markets.  If the man was as good as his portfolio showcased, he could be a star in their company and gain some recognition.  New York was a very creative place but few companies had the ability to offer the growth that Kinnetik did.  Something niggled at his brain but he couldn't figure out what it was.  He dismissed his thoughts as being too busy running Kinnetik and his fear that he would forget something important and brought the portfolios to Cynthia for review one last time as well.

John finished up his day and went to say goodbye to Darren. 

"You have all the information on the new account, Organza?" Darren asked as he smiled at John.  John was looking really happy these days. He had been friends with him for about 5 years and had seen him go through some bad relationships.  He hoped John might have found a new love interest. 

"Yeah.  I'm looking forward to seeing Pittsburgh.  I understand it has some really interesting tourist attractions." John moved into the office and sat in one of the blue chairs that were opposite Darren's desk. 

Darren laughed. "You're not there to be a tourist, just to pitch to the company.  Besides, nothing compares to good ole New York when it comes to attractions.  I bet you haven't even been to half of the tourist stuff here in our fair city."  Darren picked up his copy of the file on <i> Organza <i/> and scanned it quickly.  "They have a real niche market.  I trust your skills to provide them with a new vision."

He picked up the file from Darren and reviewed it again, nodding his head as he read the familiar information.  "I'm ready.  I have done my research, but I will try to get a little time to sightsee.  We may have the monopoly of most tourist sites in one city, but they do have the Incline."  He hated deceiving Darren but he was looking forward to visiting Pittsburgh.  He would put his best pitch forward for the company, but he had another agenda as well.

He'd received a phone call last week to interview with Kinnetik.  He'd accepted the opportunity immediately.  He couldn't believe his luck.  Kinnetik was the company that Justin's "friend" owned.  He remembered investigating it and applying for a position there a few weeks back.  Hopefully, he would be able to meet "this Brian guy" and make him realize that he was Justin's true partner.  He would find Justin, talk to him, show him they were meant for each other and make him understand that he forgave him for being with Brian while John was away.  He just knew that Justin had not forgotten him and was just with Brian because he had returned to Pittsburgh.  He had figured it all out.  He would interview with Kinnetik and introduce himself to "this Brian".  He would get Brian to understand that he and Justin were together and to leave the two of them alone.  Once Brian accepted the truth, he would get Justin to return to New York where he belonged.  It was all very simple and easy.  He was very excited about the turn of events in his life.  But for now, he had to get home and change and meet Michael and Peter for dinner.  He couldn't wait for them to hear his news.  He knew they would be excited for him.

They talked for a few more minutes and John stood up to leave.

"I better get moving, I'm meeting my friend Peter and his partner for dinner."

"Say hi to Peter for me.  Tell him he should come by the office soon.  It's been a while since I saw him."

"Will do.  I know you guys go way back.  Sometimes it is really a small world. Those six degrees of separation are real phenomena."

John arrived for dinner about 10 minutes to 7.   He brought a bottle of Schmidt-Schone Reisling with him and brought it to eye level when Michael answered the door.  "Here you go.  I know you guys love the stuff.  I'm a beer drinker, but my mother always taught me to bring a gift when you visit."

"Thanks.  But you didn't need to do that, John.  You really aren't a guest; you're one of Peter's oldest friends.  Come on in.  I'm just finishing the dinner and we can visit while I set the table," Michael said as he grabbed the bottle and took it to the kitchen, placing it in the fridge to stay cold until their meal.

John didn't question where Peter was and followed Michael into the kitchen.

Michael added a little water to the pot on the stove and turned it in low heat.  He grabbed a jar of olives and a bag of fresh broccoli from the fridge and placed them on the peninsula.

"I haven't seen you in ages.  Tell me what's new in your life."  Michael asked as he got out the tray for the hors d'eouvers.

John sat on the bar chair that was next to the peninsula.  He watched as Michael carefully scooped out each olive and let the juice drain before placing it on the tray.

"I have a new boyfriend.  His name is Justin Taylor and he's from Pittsburgh.  You might have heard about him.  He's an artist."  John said with pride in his voice.

"Oh.  That's exciting.  Where did you meet him?"

"I met him at his show.  He's got an exhibit at the June Kelly gallery.  We met at the opening."

Michael did not want to ask too many questions, waiting to see how much information John provided before he probed.

"I've met up with him for a week about three weeks ago and I'm going back to see him in a few days."

"Met up with him?"

"Oh yeah.  He lives in Pittsburgh.  I forgot to tell you that."

"Pittsburgh."

"Yeah.  He's from there and comes here to show his work.  It's a real pain but he likes it. It was like Karma or something.  I told him I was going to Pittsburgh to present to a client for work and I mentioned it to him, and then he invited me to pose for his next piece."

"Tell me about him.  He sounds really interesting."

"He grew up in Pittsburgh.  He went to school at Pittsburgh Institute of Fine Arts and his work has been shown at The Bloom Gallery, Tamarind, and Apex.  And get this, he co-created Rage, the comic book."

Alarm bells went off in Michael's head as John's description sounded suspiciously like a bio. 

"What do you guys like to do, besides the obvious?" Michael asked, hoping to get a better picture.

"Hang out.  He paints a lot so I just watch him." John reached out and grabbed an olive off the tray. Michael smiled and pushed the now filled tray towards his guest.  John picked up two more olives and popped them into his mouth and then pushed the tray back for Michael to finish placing the cut up broccoli and the mushrooms and carrots on it. 

"Since your company is sending you to Pittsburgh, I imagine they are paying for a hotel.  Is his place close to the hotel?"  Michael knew that was a little personal, but he pushed anyway.

"Justin said he would pick me up." John knew Justin lived on the outskirts of town, having been there on his recent trip.  He frowned when he thought of "Brian" being there with him.  He was so lucky to have fortune on his side; Darren sending him to present a new pitch to <i> Organza<i/> was so perfect. "It's kind of far from my hotel and he didn't want me to have to take a cab."

"Is his studio close to his home?"

"I don't know.  I've never been there."

With this answer, Michael made up his mind.  John just told him he watched Justin paint and yet he didn't know if his studio was far from his residence.  John made it sound like he'd been to both places, but when he couldn't give a reference for general proximity Michael's suspicions were confirmed.  The cab answer was a little suspicious; John having taken a few moments to answer, but this was a definitive one. John was definitely lying.   

"You said you met at his opening.  Was it love at first sight?  I remember when Peter and I met."

"Oh yeah," John got a faraway look in his eye as he remembered. "He asked me how I liked the exhibit and we talked for at least 10 minutes about the show, his technique, his inspiration, but then he had to talk to some other patrons." John then frowned, remembering how Justin kept getting pulled away by some woman, who insisted he needed to talk to ‘these' people.

Michael said, "He had to go talk to other patrons."

"Yes. But he came back and talked to me a couple of times during the evening.  Afterward, there was a party, a dinner gathering of a few patrons and I went.  He chose to sit right next to me and we talked the whole time. He said if I was ever in Pittsburgh I should look him up."

"Didn't you go down there a few weeks ago?  I thought I remember Peter telling me you went."

"Yeah.  He called me a few days after the opening and invited me down.  I went for a week.  I met his friend from high school, Daphne and we went to the mall by his house and ate at Red Robin.  Then we went to his house.  He lives in this big beautiful old Tudor Mansion.  Kind of far out from Pittsburgh, but I guess he can afford it."

The door opened before John could share more of his story and Michael was filled with a mixture of happiness and dread.  Michael walked over to Peter and kissed him soundly on the lips.  Peter returned the kiss.

Peter walked into the living room where John was getting the corkscrew out of the cabinet, having been at his friend's place many times and told to always make himself at home. 

"Hi.  Sorry, I'm late.  I had to finish a project at work."

"No worries.  Why don't you go change?  I'll finish setting the table."  Turning toward Michael, he said, "Go help Peter change. Don't take too long, but I know how Justin and I are when he leaves the studio in the evening."  He grinned and shooed the two men toward the bedroom while he grabbed the glasses from the cabinet.

Michael quietly closed the door and watched as Peter unbuttoned his khaki's and grabbed a pair of soft, well-worn jeans.

"I hate to tell you-you're right, but there is no doubt that John's lying.  His story just doesn't add up and when I asked him to tell me about Justin, he sounded like he had memorized a professional bio.  He talks in generalities about what they do but he has some specific information about his personal life that is really disconcerting.  I think we need to call that agent again and see if she's told, Justin.  If she hasn't we need to do so.  I don't think he will harm him; he appears to believe they are together.  I'm more worried about the boyfriend.  He may see him as a threat and try to get him out of the picture."

"Shit!"

"Shit is right. I'll talk to him some more tonight, but we need to have another talk with the agent tomorrow."

"I was so hoping you were wrong and that I was just overly worried about John."

"Me too.  I was so sure you were exaggerating his behavior, but it just goes to show that best friends can be therapists too."

They returned to the kitchen area and spent the evening talking about John's upcoming trip and his relationship/non-relationship with Justin.

TBC

"Daddy!!!  Justin!!!  Look at me.  See how high I can swing on the swings." Gus pumped his legs and he was flying high on the swing set in the park.  He was going higher than any of the other little children on the set and Brian and Justin were watching him with eagle eyes to ensure his safety. 

"Wow.  That is high, buddy," Justin called as he watched the youngster. 

Justin's heart swelled with love as he looked at the little boy.  He remembered the night he was born; the first time he met Brian Kinney, the first time he had sex, the first time he slept with a man overnight, so many firsts with this man sitting next to him. He was one of the lucky ones, falling in love with the first man he went to bed with, even if it took many years for said man to realize the feelings.  But here they were sitting in the park watching his child play on the swing set, a short respite from the turmoil in their lives.

The conversation at Red Robin about the possibility of him having a child seemed like a lifetime ago rather than just a few weeks.  He was saddened by the turn of events, realizing yet again that his life was not meant to be anything like he had envisioned.  When he was growing up, he bought into the ideal: man, woman, and 2.3 children. Then he realized he was gay and his parent's divorced.  He understood that the two did not go hand in hand, but at the time, he wasn't convinced of that notion, thinking he was the cause of the break -up of their marriage. His mother was such a strong influence in his life and he was so happy that they'd survived the teenage angst and she'd come to accept and even love Brian, the love of his life.

Justin chastised himself thinking about the possibility of having a child.  There was so much uncertainty in their lives and he couldn't imagine bringing a child into their lives when he was about to jeopardize both their livelihoods.  He wished he'd listened to Brian so many years ago and let him help pay the bills.  It struck him as ironic that he turned to dance to pay his bills and now the same dancing could be the reason that he won't be able to pay them again.  The frown on his face when he thought of all things he would never have resulted in Brian speaking.

"Tim can be trusted.  Don't worry.  People are more concerned about the in-laws coming for Thanksgiving than they are that you were a dancer while you were breaking into the New York art scene."

"Okay," Justin said softly, only slightly paying attention to Brian's words.

"Carol doesn't think it's a big deal, either. Stop worrying."

Justin didn't respond this time but continued to stare at Gus and the other children.

"There's a Japanese anime character in the woods," Brian said, hoping to get some reaction from Justin, but when Justin just nodded his head, he realized Justin wasn't really paying attention.

Brian gently touched him on the chin, turning his head toward him, said, "Justin.  Earth to Justin."

Blinking his eyes, he looked at Brian and said, "Sorry.  I was just thinking."

"I'll repeat what I just said.  Tim can be trusted.  Don't worry."

"I know.  It's just.... I regret," Justin said as he watched Gus move from the swing set to the slide. It appeared that he'd found a "friend" on the playground and they had devised a game of sliding and running around the equipment.  It amazed him how elaborate kids could get. The stories Gus would share about his adventures were always fascinating. "I know.  No apologies, no regrets, but if I hadn't...." Justin didn't feel it necessary to voice his thoughts on a child as that was one regret Brian did not know about.  He had never voiced his desire for a child and now that choice was off the table, he knew to bring the subject up for discussion was futile.  A sadness washed over him for the hundredth time that day, sadness that he was ruining his life but more so a sadness of the things that he would never experience.

"Justin," Brian said, putting all his words into his voice, attempting to reassure him of the rightness of his decision and the love he felt for this man.  They had talked about this scenario to death and he didn't think any more words would change Justin's mind.  Time would be the best remedy and Brian knew time would be in their favor. 

The sun warmed the playground and the area was filling with children and their parents hoping to enjoy the nice weather before the winter made it too cold and dangerous to play in the park.  The ice and snow were fun to sled in, but very dangerous when you came to a playground.  There was an abundance of ice rinks in the area and parents often took their children there in the winter to burn off energy.  Even Gus had begun lessons and he was already talking about playing on a team.  Brian inwardly cringed at the thought of watching a bunch of 8-year-olds playing hockey but knew he would attend as many games as he could fit in.

They'd been at the park for about an hour and Justin's stomach decided to announce its need to be filled.  The noises made Brian laugh and Justin grin sheepishly.

"I guess it's time to feed the beast. Let's get Gus and take him to the diner.  I know Debbie will be happy to see him and we can fill you up with a greasy meal as well.  I know you haven't been eating a lot lately.  Now that Tim is doing his article, you should be relieved."

"I bet he is hungry too."  The two men walked out toward the equipment, calling Gus to join them.

"Can't we play a little longer?  Jimmy and me are the sheriffs and we're chasing all the bad guys."

"No.  Sorry, Sonnyboy.  We need to leave.  Justin's stomach is growling and you know what that means."  Brian had teased Justin regarding his stomach growls so many times that Gus had begun to talk about them as if they were a person inside of Justin.  It was their little inside joke and Gus laughed aloud when Brian mentioned having to feed them.

"I gotta go. We can catch the rest of the bad guys later." He turned to the little boy standing in the shadow of the equipment.  "We have to feed Justin's stomach." He grabbed both Justin and Brian's hand and walked toward the car.  "Can we go see Grandma Debbie?  I bet Justin's stomach would like a big chocolate milkshake."

"I bet there is a milkshake with Justin's name on it.  To the diner," Brian said as he laughed with his son.  The joy in his heart bursting at this little man's innocence.

"Gus, how's my favorite little man?" Debbie gushed as she gave him her trademark kiss and rubbed off the lipstick that stuck to his cheek.

"Daddy and Justin took me to the park.  I swung higher than anybody on the swing set and then I played sheriff with Jimmy.  He's my new friend."  Gus informed her as they walked to the back booth.  Gus always went to the back booth, the one where they usually sat.  "Grandma I want the biggest chocolate shake you have.  And Justin needs one too.  His stomach is hungry.  Daddy told me so and I heard it growling a couple of times in the car." 

Debbie wrote down the order for two shakes, nodding at his antics.  "What else do you want, Gus.  I don't think your mommies would like it if you only had a shake."  The bell rang several times as new customers came into the diner. 

"I want a big burger and lots of fries and an ice cream sundae for dessert.  I'm hungry.  And if I don't eat all my fries, my daddy will help me.  He helps Justin eat his all the time.  Why Justin doesn't eat them is funny since he always says his stomach is hungry.  If he needs to feed his stomach, then he should eat all his fries.  Momma always tells me to finish all my food before I can have dessert and Justin usually has dessert."

All the adults at the table snickered at the observations of the 8-year-old, but didn't provide an answer.  It was too difficult to explain that Brian didn't really eat Justin's food, but that Justin was generously sharing.  French fries were too fattening for Brian; therefore he couldn't possibly order them or eat them, but if he ate off Justin's plate, it was different, it didn't count.

They chatted with Gus about his playground adventures that morning while they waited for the food to arrive, both delighting in the imagination of the child.

A young couple with a small baby came into the diner. Justin watched them as they maneuvered the seat onto a high chair and attached the straps to the bottom of the chair so the seat wouldn't tip over.  They undressed the baby and then placed him securely in the seat.  The child looked around the diner, fascinated with the sights and sounds of the busy place.  Brian watched Justin watch the couple and filed the information in his head.  Their food arrived and Gus dug into his hamburger with gusto.  Brian ate his turkey sandwich and Justin ate a bite of his cheeseburger.  Throughout the meal, Justin would look over at the table with the couple and their child and smile.  Justin was not his usual talkative self, but Gus made up for his lack of conversation at the meal. 

Brian paid the check and left a big tip.  Gus hugged Debbie and they left the diner.

"Daddy and Justin have some things to do this afternoon, so we have to take you home, Sonnyboy.  We will have you come spend the night with us in a few days." Brian walked to the car, watching Gus avoid all the cracks in the sidewalk.  He was so happy that Gus appeared to be having a carefree childhood and lived in a home filled with love.

"Cool.  Can we go to the zoo?  There is a baby elephant there. Tommy went to see it with his dad last weekend and he said it was really awesome.  Did you know that it takes almost 2 years to grow a baby elephant?  We learned all about it in school.  A giraffe grows for 15 months but a baby human is only 9 months.  Babies are boring, well they are until they can play.  I remember Jenny Rebecca just lying in her crib and crying.  She was okay when she could play.  But baby elephants and giraffes walk around and stuff. They are just small animals.  I'd love a puppy.  I could watch it grow and help its mommy to take care of it.  We could take it to the park and play catch.  Can I Dad?  Can I get a puppy?"

Brian looked at Justin who was actually listening to the conversation and was smiling at him when he realized where Gus was going with his statements about babies.   A clenching in his chest felt like it would hurt him when he heard the word puppy and can I have one. 

"You'd have to talk to your mothers about that one.  We wouldn't want the puppy to get lonely when you weren't there." Brian was pleased with his quick response.

"But momma and mommy have told me puppies are a lot of work and we can't have one.  I was hoping..."

"Sonnyboy, puppies are not just play things.  They have to be walked and fed and they eat your toys and hide your socks."

"I would get them special puppy toys.  Come on, Dad.  You always said you want me to be happy.  This would make me really happy."

"I don't think so, Gus.  But we can go to the zoo and see the baby elephant this weekend.  I bet he's really bigger than you think."

Gus kicked an imaginary pebble on the street with his shoe and looked down at the sidewalk, foregoing his early game of avoiding the cracks.  Brian didn't like to see his son upset, but he knew that he did not want a dog and no amount of pouting or coaxing would change that.  Sometimes, he realized, he would be unable to make Gus happy. 

"Ok, Dad.  I can go over and play with Tommy's puppy. He said I could come anytime."

When they drove up to Mel and Lind's home, Justin and Brian got out walking Gus to the door.  Brian rang the doorbell, not wanting to use his key, afraid he might find them having sex or something in the living room.  He didn't want to be scarred by that vision in his head.  Linds opened the door and ushered them inside. 

"Mommy, we went to the park and I played Sheriff with my new friend and then Daddy and Justin took me to see Grandma Debbie cuz Justin's stomach was hungry and...." Gus continued talking as he walked over to the toys leaving the adults to chuckle at Gus's nonstop commentary on everything.

"He really loves spending time with you guys.  I'm glad you came over.  I know things have been hectic for you Justin with the new show and everything, but he talks about you all the time."

Gus was in the corner playing with his trucks and cars, oblivious to the conversation the adults were having. 

"He's a great kid.  I love spending time with him and watching him grow and learn. "Since I..."  He let the words drop as his eyes got watery.  "Excuse me, I need to use the restroom." 

"He considers you an important person in his life," Lindsay said as she smiled reassuringly at Justin, not knowing why he looked like he might cry.

Justin returned from the bathroom and stopped to play for a few moments with Gus. Brian watched as Justin gave Gus a big hug and ruffled his hair.  His heart ached for his partner and he vowed to heal the wounded man, somehow.

After leaving Gus, Brian turned the car toward the city center.  He loved spending time with his two favorite guys, but he had a business to run. 

"I need to go into the office for a bit. Do you want to join me?  It won't take but half an hour.  You could go see Mark in the Art department; he could use some fresh eyes on the Peterson account.  I'd appreciate if you could give your input."

"Sure," Justin said, happy for the distraction and a way to fill up his day.  These days, he couldn't concentrate enough to paint and without his painting, he was in need of ways to fill his day.

"I wonder when Tim will send out his article," Justin asked quietly. It could have been a question that needed an answer, but Brian chose to let it pass.  Justin watched the cars drive by and noticed how many had children in them.  He was acutely aware of his preoccupation with babies and children, but the upcoming publishing of the article was foremost on his mind.  It was like a closing of a chapter in his life.  More like closing a door that had maybe been opened a crack but now was slammed shut.  He could have maybe kept his dancing hidden from any future children, but now that the knowledge was in print, it would always be available. 

He knew that any child he might have in the future could be approached with the knowledge and he couldn't or wouldn't take that chance.  Again, it made him incredibly sad to know that his unwillingness to ask for help closed a major opportunity in his life.  A tear slid down his cheek and he moved to wipe it away.  He turned toward the window, hoping Brian did not see the wetness.

Brian saw Justin wipe the tear from his face and turn toward the window, trying to shield him from his emotions, but Brian knew Justin very well and recognized the avoidance tactic.  Justin didn't even try to hide the tear saying it was his allergies.  Brian continued the drive without attempting conversation, choosing to address his concerns when they were home safely.

When Brian pulled into the parking lot, there were a few people standing outside the entrance and Brian cursed.  This wasn't an ordinary group, they had ID's, cameras, microphones, and recorders.  Damn fucking media vultures.  Looking at Justin, he reached out and squeezed his hand and Justin squeezed back.  They parked in the normal spot and got out.

"Justin, why did you decide to come out about your dancing?"

"Did you ever dance for any celebrities?"

"Justin..."

"Justin..."

Justin and Brian ignored the reporters and made their way into the building. 

"Guess that answers my question.  How'd they even know to go to Kinnetik?  It's not like I work here or anything.  I wish I'd thought to ask Carol to be here."  Justin pushed the door open.

"I'm sure Carol has her share of reporters at her place too.  There weren't many in front of the building, hopefully, they'll go away soon."

"Here's hoping."

They entered the building and each went their separate ways.  Brian stopped in to talk to Ted and Cynthia and to verify the details on several accounts.  Justin went to the art department and found that working with someone else's art was a great distraction.  He ended up spending an hour and a half in the department, consulting with Mark and a few other employees.  The employees knew about Justin and Brian's relationship and knew of Justin's career. They were always eager to work with the artist and gain his input and never felt threatened by his presence.  It was a great solution for everyone.

When Justin did not return after a short time, Brian sat at his desk and read some emails and answered a few phone calls.  He'd hoped asking Justin to go to the art department and consult would occupy his time and make him feel needed, something that was lacking in the last few weeks.  He would go looking for him after a few hours if he did not return, but this gave him an opportunity to get some much-needed work done and he used the time wisely.

It was about 4:30 and Justin knocked tentatively on Brian's door.

"Hey.  Ready to go home?"  Brian said.

"Sure. That was fun."

"You could always come work for me.  Just think, I'd have access to your bubble butt all day long."  Brian paused as he contemplated that statement. "Well, maybe that isn't such a great idea.  I'd never get any work done," he said with a huge grin.  "Guess I'll have to settle on having my wicked ways with you when I come home from a long day at the office."  Brian's voice was light and playful and he slapped Justin on his butt.

"Guess so.  I like the way you think.  Have you had a long day at the office?"

"I have."

"Then I suggest we go home so you can have your wicked way with me."  Justin walked over to the coat tree to grab his coat and wiggled his butt purposefully.

"Oh, I don't think so.  I think that right here, right now sounds much better to me."

"You do?  Well, it is your business."

Brian walked to the door, locking it and pulling down the shades in the front windows.  Brian started unbuttoning his shirt as he turned toward Justin, starting the activities.  He watched as Justin's eyes grew dark at the familiar sight.  Justin walked toward Brian and finished unbuttoning the shirt, running his hands up and down his chest, enjoying the smooth playground.  Justin reached up to grab Brian's nipple and started sucking.  Brian's moan of appreciation made Justin happy.  While Justin was busy with Brian's nipple, Brian unbuttoned Justin's shirt, caressing the smooth skin that still never failed to make his cock hard.

Brian quickly unzipped Justin's jeans, reaching inside to find his cock, hard and ready for action.

"Seems like you couldn't wait either," Brian said, tongue in cheek as he reached for the cock head, running his fingers over the sensitive slit.

Justin moaned in appreciation and decided to return the favor, unbuttoning Brian's jeans and finding his cock as well.  He loved the way it was soft to the touch yet hard as a rock at the same time.  Nature had truly made a magnificent specimen when it designed Brian Kinney. Brian's cock was an art object but lucky for Justin, he was the only one who got to admire it these days.

Both men pulled the other man's pants down, giving them easier access to their cocks.  They stood facing each other, oblivious of the world around them, but their senses focused on pleasing their partner.  The smell of sex, sweat and their cologne filled the air and heightened the experience for each man.  Sex was truly a multi-sensory experience.  It was a wonder that people ever did anything else.

 "Brian, I'm not going to last." Justin could feel the familiar tingling in his back and his balls drawing close to his body. 

Brian grinned at the words and stopped for a moment as he reached inside his desk for a condom and a small packet of lube.  Justin sighed at the lost contact but recognized the familiar sound of a condom package tearing.

"Put it on me," Brian said as he gave the familiar instructions.  They were as much a part of their joining as the actual act and Justin placed the latex barrier on his partner.

Brian turned him around to lean on his desk and quickly prepared him.  He slowly breached the tight ring, hearing the familiar hitch in Justin's breath at the intrusion but only had to wait a few moments before feeling Justin push back signaling his readiness for Brian to continue.  Brian grabbed Justin's ass cheeks, using them to pull him back as he thrust into the tight channel.  Justin pushed back as Brian pulled him back and quickly they were both breathing hard, their focus on the finish line.

"Briannnnnnn," Justin yelled as he clenched Brian's cock with the spasms from his orgasm.

Brian shot into the condom and held Justin around the waist as he waited for his heart rate to return to normal. 

"I think it was an excellent idea to not wait till we got home," Brian said as he pulled out of Justin and tied off the condom.

"I think so too." Justin grabbed some tissues off Brian's desk to wipe himself and then tucked himself back into his clothing.  He walked toward Brian's private washroom to clean himself properly and then rejoined Brian a few minutes later.

"Go grab your coat and let's go."

They walked out of the building, pleased to see the place devoid of reporters.  Driving toward Britin, Brian was pleased to see Justin appear more relaxed than he was this morning, but he still felt there was something going on, something besides the article.

They arrived at Britin and there were a few reporters waiting.  Luckily they had a garage and didn't get a chance to talk to Brian and Justin as they entered the home through the garage.

"How long do you think they'll be around?" Justin asked, hanging up his coat on the rack.

"Not long.  Just until the next news story comes around.  A few days at best.  It's not like you had a clothing malfunction or made a video and put it on Youtube."

Justin smiled at the references to pop culture; Janet Jackson and Miley Cyrus, thinking that while Brian claimed to hate pop culture, he did keep up to date with it. 

"Want to order Thai for dinner?" Justin asked as he rummaged in the menu drawer for the correct menu.

"Ok. Your hunger monster talking again?" Brian teased, referring to Gus's earlier conversation.

"He was cute.  I love how he plays along that there is actually something in there," Justin said as he located the correct menu.  He got a wistful look in his eye and Brian recognized it from earlier in the day.

"He's a great kid.  I never would have believed it, but I love spending time with him and being his dad.  I'm so proud of him."

"Yeah, he is."  Justin felt the familiar tears welling up in his eyes and quickly turned around and wiped them away, but not quick enough that Brian didn't see the movement.

Brian had seen those same welling eyes multiple times today and his Justin intuition pinged.

"Come here," Brian said as he indicated the chair next to him in the kitchen. 

Justin walked to the chair and sat down, but didn't look directly at Brian.

"Want to tell me what's going on?"

Justin looked at him with incredibility.  He put his palms face up and stuck his head out slightly.

"I know the obvious Justin.  You're scared about the article and what people will think.  I get that, but there is something else, something you aren't telling me.  I've watched those little wheels in your head all day long and the waterworks every time you are around Gus or other kids is obvious even to me."

Justin felt his tears well up again but this time did not try to hide them, allowing them to fall down his cheeks. "I... I... want." His tears fell unfettered and he gulped air. "Someday, I.... always hoped."  Justin got up to locate a tissue to blow his nose and wipe some of his tears.

"I could never do that to..."

Brian quickly reviewed Justin's behavior from this morning; watching the couple with the child in the diner, comments about Gus, and the vague comment about regret.  He was not the only one who had an owner's manual.  While Justin may claim to own the one on him, he was very schooled in the Justin Taylor manual and he thought he understood what was happening with his partner. 

"You want a child and you feel you can't have one because of the stalker and the dancing."

Justin nodded his head in relief at Brian's intuition.  He put his head down on the table and wept tears of sorrow.

Brian let the revelation sink in but didn't say a word.  Getting up to grab a glass of water from the sink, he placed it in front of Justin and waited for a break in the tears.

TBC

The kitchen clock ticked with each minute that passed. The refrigerator hummed and a clink of ice as it dropped from the ice maker were back ground noises that Brian didn't pay attention to as he watched his partner's shoulders and back heave with the spasms of his tears. He hated seeing anyone cry but when it was someone he loved, it was that much harder.

He placed the glass of water in front of Justin and had told him it was there, but he did not say anything else. Telling someone that they shouldn't cry was counterproductive and while he did not cry very often, he understood the catharsis it brought. He remembered crying when he first was given the diagnosis of cancer so many years ago. He'd gone back to his loft, closed the door and bolted it. He'd put his phone on silent mode and then slid down the wall, sitting in the living room as he allowed the tears to fall down his cheeks. He'd cried until there were no more tears and he was thirsty, dehydrating himself in the process. He had gone to the liquor cabinet and proceeded to drink almost a full bottle of Beam before passing out. When he woke the next morning, he had a terrible headache and he'd been angry at the world.

Sitting down at the table, he thought about the exchange he and Justin had a few moments ago. Justin wanted a child. Where in the hell had that come from? Justin was painting again and he'd had several successful shows in New York. After his accident he'd returned to Pittsburgh and we've been living at Britin for about 18 months. I thought we were happy, but now Justin tells me he wants a child. What the fuck?

A child? What would a child mean to us? What would it mean to Justin? Is this something he's been thinking about for a while or something he and Daphne cooked up on one of their Bobbsy twin outings? Do I want a child? Does it matter what I want or will I let Justin have this since it's important to him? How will a child affect his painting? Is he planning on continuing to paint? Does he want to raise it or just father it? Who will be the mother? Shit! Too many questions and we've got too many fucking things on our plate, but life happens when you're planning other things.

Brian got himself a glass of guava juice, getting up to pour it more of an excuse to do something than from a need to drink. He made a big production of getting the juice out, pouring it and then wiping the container down before setting it on the counter. Truth be told, he was always after Justin to wipe down the container before he put in back since it had a tendency to drip from the spout. He drank half of the glass and refilled it, repeating the procedure and then returning it to the fridge. He swirled his glass in small circles and then played with the condensation on the glass, making small designs in the water droplets. He waited for Justin to calm down and then grabbed a box of tissues, placing them on the table.

Justin grabbed a few tissues, blew his nose and wiped his eyes. He walked to the sink and splashed cold water on his face, dried it off, hung up the towel and returned to the table where he took a few sips of the water.

"Brian...." Justin looked up for a few moments and then felt so overwhelmed with the situation he just looked back down at the table.

"Talk to me, Justin. I figured out this is about a child, but I can't see your thoughts. I'm not that good at reading the Justin Taylor manual." Brian hoped his joking would get a smile from Justin but he would be happy with just a just a small upturn of his mouth.

The hum from the furnace was the only noise in the house and since it was high efficiency and top of the line, it was barely noticeable. Brian heard it as he was listening for any sound in the kitchen. The lack of verbage from his partner, something he didn't usually contend with.

"I love Gus," Justin said softly, still looking at the table instead of Brian. "He's a great kid." Justin played with his water glass, moving it back and forth on the table and moving it through the water trail on the table as the glass left condensation on the surface.

"Yes, he is."

"I know you never wanted children and were practically tricked into having him."

Brian nodded his head, but chose to let Justin continue talking rather than interrupt him.

"But I'm not you. I've always wanted to be a father, wanted a child to share my life and love with. I know you've never regretted having Gus. I remember the night he was born, you holding him and the look in your eyes, the love pouring out surprised you. I know it did. You hated when Lindsay took him to Canada, but you were so happy when they returned a few months later. You're a great dad and Gus adores you." Justin took a several sips from his water glass and finally looked at Brian. "I always thought I would..."

Justin walked to the sink and looked out the window that overlooked their property. He watched a squirrel scamper, stopping every time he got to a tree and gather the acorns on the ground. On the far edge of the property, he saw several deer eating the few berries still on the bushes. Normally this scene soothed him, the natural beauty of the world provided him with inspiration, but today it did not. He saw life moving forward without him.

Brian came up from behind him and wrapped his arms around his neck, gently kissing his head and neck.

Brian whispered, "A father? How long have you been thinking about this?" Brian found it much easier to have the conversation when he was not looking at Justin's face. He could hug him, offering him support, and Justin could talk freely without looking into Brian's eyes.

"Off and on for years, but last week Daphne and I went to lunch and she mentioned I'd make a great father."

"I see. What do you think?" Brian continued to hold Justin, offering him all the support he could.

"It doesn't matter. I would never want a child of mine to find out. That door is closed." The sadness of Justin's words broke Brian's heart. He hugged him tightly. "Besides, you don't want to be a full time father and...."

Brian didn't even think before he responded; he just went with the words as they came out of his mouth.

"We have a relationship. It's a partnership, not a dictatorship. If one of use wants something, we talk about it. It's a mutual decision."

"That doesn't change anything, Brian. Even if you were willing to have a child, I wouldn't put that kind of burden on him or her. The teasing and scorn that the child would endure because his father was a strip dancer would be horrible. I was taunted and teased because I was gay. I had no control over that. But this, this I can control. If I don't have a child, then he/she wouldn't ever have to endure the teasing."

"I can guarantee you there are far worse things that parents have done to their children than being a stripper. Good ole Joanie and Jack Kinney couldn't care less if they had children. Joanie was drunk by noon every day and Jack beat the crap out of us. You think being a former strip dancer is worse than them. I highly doubt that!" The venom in his voice was obvious. Brian's fury at his parent's neglect was rarely seen by anyone but today he showed his anger. He unknowingly clenched his fists into tight balls as he felt the pain and misery of his childhood rush through his body. "I wouldn't have cared if they peddled their ass on the street if they had shown a little interest in my life or my well- being. You want a child. It's more than they ever wanted and unfortunately they demonstrated that each and every day of my first 18 years."

Justin knew about Brian's childhood; they had spoken of it a few times, but he'd never heard the anger and venom in Brian's voice as he did now. He turned around and kissed him gently on the lips.

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry is bullshit. And what the fuck are you sorry for? Are you sorry for my rotten childhood? Don't be. If sweet ole Jack and Joanie had been model parents, who knows where I'd have ended up in life. I surely wouldn't have left home and never turned back. I'd probably be working in a damn factory like my old man." Brian kissed Justin on the lips and walked him back to the kitchen table, motioning to the chair.

"I get that you're sorry for this whole dancing thing with the stalker. We've discussed this. You didn't do anything wrong. If you're sorry because you want a child, Justin you have a right to want things too." Brian reached out and took a sip from his glass of guava juice. He licked his lips when some of the juice stayed on his upper lip.

"A child isn't like a new computer or a new spring suit in the Armani collection. It isn't something you can bring back to the store if you don't like it, Brian."

"I know. Believe me, even my new collection of spring suits doesn't cost as much as I give the munchers for Gus in a year," he said tongue in cheek, knowing he did not even blink at the cost of any purchase that had to do with Gus. "I know this isn't about money."

"I've sprung this on you. You don't have to say yes just to make me happy. I know you really don't want a child." Justin got up from the table and threw the rest of the water in the sink. Placing the glass in the dishwasher, he walked toward the main part of the house, heading toward his studio.

Brian watched him leave the kitchen but didn't call him on it. He was thankful that Justin left, giving him some time to really think about the situation. He hadn't really thought of Justin wanting a child of his own and he was very happy with their lives. He needed time to think about the situation. Truth be told, he would give anything to make Justin happy, but he wasn't certain that a child was included in that everything. It didn't matter what he wanted or didn't want, and he knew enough of Justin's mood lately to not to respond to Justin's final statement. Justin didn't know if Brian would want a child or not. It's no wonder Justin was always getting overly emotional at things when they didn't work out, he was assuming what everyone's reaction would be.

Justin went to his studio, standing his current pieces against the wall to view them all at once. Looking at them with a neutral eye, he stared at the pictures. He couldn't feel any attachment to any of them, it was like looking at someone else's work. He was devoid of feeling, well not devoid, but numb was a better description. His mind was a swirling mess of thoughts, so much that he couldn't concentrate on any one line of thinking. He started thinking of Tim Callen and the article which led him to the thoughts of his friends and what they must think now that they knew he danced and stripped for a living. This led him to thoughts of his best friend, Daphne and their conversation about a child which in turn led him to his conversation with Brian a few short minutes ago and how he sprung that crazy notion on his partner.

Thoughts of Brian reminded him that Tim Callen just wrote a short piece about his stripping and now Brian's clients would possibly find a new agency since his partner was such a slut. Those thoughts led to Kinnetik's downfall and questions about how he would support himself if both Brian and he weren't working. And if neither had any money, then Justin might just have to start stripping again and what would that do to their lives. His mind just went in circles and the paintings that were in front of him were from a different person, a different time and he could no more finish them at this time, than Gus could. Thoughts of Gus made him very sad. He loved Gus and the thought of him finding out about his stripping was horrible. He feared that Lindsay and Melanie would forbid him to see Gus and that would just kill him. Then there were more thoughts about a child, his child, well his and Brian's child, but who was he fooling, Brian didn't want a child and he was foolish to even say anything to him.

His studio was usually a place of solace, but today he was inconsolable, too many things to think about and the idea of picking up a paintbrush or a sketchpad held no interest to him. He closed the door and walked toward the media room instead. He hoped Brian wasn't around but he knew he could not avoid him forever. He would be happy with a few hours. Laying his soul bare was not his favorite pass time and despite what Brian teased him about, he didn't relish long discussions with his partner. He loved spending time with Brian and talking to him, but he knew and respected Brian's dislike for lengthy discussions. They would often have a discussion that lasted days until the topic was resolved. That's how he knew Brian and he were not finished with the discussion about any of the things he was thinking about.

The media room was empty and he found his old tape of Yellow Submarine. He popped it into the VCR and sat on the couch to watch the great animations, allowing the colors to soothe his soul. He listened to the music and found himself humming the tunes of the familiar songs and quoting the dialogue as well.

Brian watched as Justin walked out of the kitchen. He didn't want to go after him, preferring to think about the discussion they were having and to also let him be alone for awhile. He grabbed a casserole from the freezer and put it on the counter to defrost, hoping that Justin would be interested in eating later on. He retreated to his office and turned on the computer to read any late emails he received from work. He purposely didn't think about any of the issues they were dealing with at the moment, but chose to concentrate on his business.

After spending the next few hours working, he shut off his computer and leaned back in his chair, allowing his brain to process their earlier conversation. i Justin wanted a child. How did I not see this one coming? What do I think about having a child? Do I want a child? Do I want to tell Justin no? Is it fair if I tell him no? What will a child do to his career? Is it my place to tell him what to do with his career? He has a career and we did not fight this hard for him to give it up. Is he giving up the career? Is the child a substitute for his painting? /i He went in search of Justin, deciding he'd been alone long enough.

He heard the sound of the speakers in the media room and walked softly toward the noise. He saw the closing credits of Yellow Submarine and smiled, knowing that this was Justin's form of pain management. The screen went black and Justin did not move to turn off the player. He sat in the darkness with the hum of the idle speakers in the background.

Brian walked into the media room and sat next to Justin on the couch. Justin nodded his head slightly acknowledging his entrance but didn't say anything.

"Hey," Brian said.

"Hey," Justin responded.

"I looked at the entertainment news a few minutes ago. Tim's article was there."

"Oh," Justin said as if Brian told him it was getting dark.

"There were a few responses to it from readers, but for the most part, very little reaction."

"Ok."

"Want to eat dinner? I have one of Deb's famous casseroles defrosting. Our visit to the diner was hours ago." Brian sat in the dark with Justin, reaching out for his hand and grasping it, letting him know he was there for him. He wanted desperately to wave a magic wand and make all the concerns of his partner disappear, but he knew he could not. He wished for the millionth time that their lives could have less drama and more serenity, but knew they had to get through these latest crises before the calm could invade.

"No. I'm tired. I think I'll go take a shower and go to bed." Justin got up from the couch and walked toward the stairs. He flicked on the light and made his way up them without turning back to look at Brian.

Brian watched his partner walk up the stairs, his back slightly stooped over like that of a much older man. He respected Justin's desire to be alone, but he knew he wouldn't allow it to continue for long. He put the casserole back in the fridge and put on the security system. Pouring himself a shot of Beam from the bottle on the liquor cabinet, he settled into the media room and clicked on Netflix, choosing to watch his own favorite movie, Rebel Without a Cause. He quoted the dialogue throughout the movie, finding escape from the stressors of his life. When it finished, he went up to their bedroom where he joined Justin in a restless sleep.

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Justin gently kissed his mouth, exploring his tongue and biting his lower lip.  Justin's fingers nimbly unbuttoned his shirt, exposing his taut abs, firm chest and ran them across the flesh, tweaking his nipples as they ghosted the brown circles. Soon they were tight nubs, responding to the exquisite stimulation.  Justin reached for his jeans, undoing the top button and then unzipping them.  Justin's hands grabbed his hard cock, caressing it and playing with it before he unleashed it from the tight denim.  Justin pulled his pants down where they rested on his ankles and he kicked them off.  Justin moved him toward the bed, pushing his body down on the softer service where he lay on top of him, grinding their cocks together.  They tousled and stroked each other's bodies, feeding the frenzy of the impending joining. 

"Now," he shouted.

Justin picked up the condom, placing it on his erection and turned him over.  Using his lubed finger, Justin quickly prepped him, and then plunged through the tight ring of muscle and on to the tighter channel.  Justin pumped furiously, unable to pace their joining, taken over by the surges pummeling his body.  He felt the unmistakable tingling that signaled impending release as Justin pulled in and out of the tight channel. 

"Justin," he called as he came.

John woke up the following morning covered in cum.  The last relics of his dream still fresh on his mind.  He and Justin were in bed together, they were making love.  Justin was all over his body, couldn't keep his hands off his smooth chest or rock hard cock.  Justin wouldn't stop kissing him and he could still feel Justin's weight on top of his body as he ground his cock into his groin. 

"Soon.  My love.  Soon.  We will be together soon," he whispered softly as he smiled at the impending reunion.

John got out of bed and stripped the soiled sheets, throwing them into the wash.  Going to the bathroom, he completed his morning routine and then showered. Grabbing his toilet kit, he placed his toothbrush, comb and shampoo in it, zipped it closed and placed it in his suitcase. 

He dressed in his best gray Prada suit and reviewed his packet with the flight information and information about Kinnetik as well as Organza.  He grabbed his suitcase and walked to the street to grab a cab to the airport.  Since this was a business trip, he could claim the cost of the cab on his expense report.  After going through security, he had an hour to wait at the gate and he spent that time reliving the vivid dream from the night before.

After arriving in Pittsburgh he went to his hotel, checking in and leaving his luggage.  He freshened up, ate a light lunch and caught a cab to Organza.   His meeting was with the President, Todd, where he showcased his designs and ideas, hoping they were to his liking.  The account was a long standing one with his company and he was here to provide a personal touch. Darren, his boss, thought he was well suited to this company's needs  and would not be disappointed when John called him with the good news as they were very pleased with the presentation.

"I really like the way you brought the latest technology into the presentation.  I do believe that wearable tech is the next big push," the President said.

"I agree," said John.  "I'm pretty excited about the things that can be done with technology today.  Sometimes I think I'm living in a science fiction movie."

Todd laughed and so did his second in command.

"I'll have Carla bring in the new contact and we'll sign it now.  I'm happy to be working with your company."  Todd pushed a button on his telephone and instructed the person on the other end to bring in the contract.  "What are your plans for this evening?  Shall we go celebrate the new contract?"

John smiled and shook Todd's hand.  "I'll have to take a rain check.  I've already got plans."  Looking at his watch he said, "In fact, I probably need to leave soon so that I won't be late.  Thank you for your time and offer, Todd." 

Todd shook his hand and said, "Of course.  I'm sure we'll be seeing a lot of you in the future.  This is really an exciting campaign."

Once the contract was signed, John walked outside Organza, willing his mind to calm down as he switched gears to his upcoming interview and culmination of his reunion with Justin. His body was strumming with excitement.  It was like he was a guitar and someone had taken his strings and pulled them very tight, almost to the point of popping.  He was mentally walking through his new life.  He would get the job at Kinnetik, being the star of the art department.  He would become indispensable to Brian and they would become friends.  As his friend, he would be able to convince him that he and Justin were really not a good match  He would find a way to hook up with Justin, convincing him that he and Justin were the perfect couple.  It all seemed perfectly logical to his convoluted thinking these days.

Brian looked at the clock, realizing he had several hours until he had to get up. Thoughts of Justin, babies, and art swirling in his head had resulted in a very restless night.  Justin was so important to him and he would do whatever it took to make him happy; he just wasn't sure what their future would entail.  At 36, he really wasn't sure he wanted another child, but he wasn't convinced that he had the right to stop Justin from experiencing that joy either.  It was not something that could or should be resolved in one night.  Right now he had Kinnetik to take care of and that meant his attention had to be focused elsewhere.

Pulling Justin tight against him, he savored the smell, feel and sound of his lover sleeping next to him.  The movement brought Justin toward consciousness, but Brian shushed him back to sleep.  Justin had been experiencing even more difficulties sleeping than Brian and he knew the man needed the restoration.  Justin's rhythmic breathing combined with the warmth of his sleep filled body lulled Brian back to sleep. Holding Justin in his arms he slept well for the first time in several days.

The alarm went off and Brian quickly shut it off.  The noise did rouse Justin, but he just pushed his body back into Brian's seeking the warmth and skin of his lover.  Brian held him for a bit, but then kissed his neck a few times.

"I'd love to stay here, Justin, but the interviews for the new art position are today and I really need to be there."

"I have to meet Michael this afternoon to talk about Rage, but I could come by later.  Maybe we can shoot some pool at Woodies."   Justin ran his hands over his eyes, pushing the sleep away.  He wanted to connect with Brian, even for a few moments.

"We could talk about the candidates.  You always have a good instinct when it comes to artists."

"You just want to make sure whoever you hire isn't afraid of the big bad Brian.  Not sure if I would be a good judge of that characteristic, but I would like to look at the art.  I hate it when you come home ranting about the idiots in the art department."

Brian was glad to see Justin planning his day without the drama of the last few days.  He hoped that maybe Justin's doom and gloom about the interview and its fallout had disappeared.  He wasn't going to question him, but realized that he needed to watch his partner.  Justin had a knack for hiding the truth or hiding things that bothered him and allowed them to fester until they were very out of control. 

The meeting with Michael about Rage was a promising sign that he felt this part of his life could continue.  He hoped Michael would not be spooked by the interview with Tim.  Really, he didn't think Michael would even know about the article unless someone mentioned it.  Michael was not one to read the tabloids or follow the news.  He was more concerned with the rest of the "family's" reaction.  He had toyed with the idea of giving them warning but decided against it.  The natural fallout or non-fallout, if that was a real word, would have to be seen.  He hoped that Justin's fears were unfounded when it came to their family, they wouldn't judge and it wouldn't even get mentioned.  He knew how Carol felt and decided that she had the most to lose, besides Justin with the information in the interview.  Since she wasn't worried about the information, he decided that it wasn't going to make an impact.  Regardless, the interview was now published and they couldn't take it back. It was time for both of them to move on with their lives. 

The stalker had precipitated the interview and unfortunately they still had that unresolved issue.  Now they had a name for the stalker, hopefully they could proceed in stopping that threat as well.  Justin had more than his fair share of drama in the last few years, starting with the amnesia from the accident and now it was time for him to enjoy his success. 

"Join me in the shower?" Brian asked as he raised his eyebrow in invitation.

"I do feel a little dirty."  Justin walked to the bathroom and turned on the shower, waiting for the water to heat up.

Brian joined him and took care of his morning routine, then stepped in the shower.  Justin grabbed the soap, lathering it up and then started washing Brian's skin.

"I never get tired of this.  You know, showering together, starting the day with you," Justin said as he cleaned Brian's chest.

"Mmm," was the  only response Justin received, knowing that more than those sounds would be too lesbianic for Brian.  The "mmm" was sufficient acceptance of Brian's acknowledgment.

Brian grabbed Justin's hips, pulled him closer and kissed him soundly on the lips.  Justin opened his mouth and returned the kiss.  Brian spun Justin around to face the tiles and grabbed the lube and a condom.

"Like this tradition too?" Brian teased as he opened the packet of lube and squeezed the gel onto his finger and then inserted it into Justin's ass. 

Justin grunted and pushed back in response, nodding the only acknowledgment he could come up with.  He wanted this, joining with his partner, the normality of the act a part of their morning routine.   Sex in the shower in the morning was like brushing your teeth, but felt much better.  It was part of getting ready for the day.  No matter how bad the day got, both of them could always flash back to their morning tryst and both men found that appealing and comforting, and of course, hot as hell.  When they were in different cities, their days always felt a little off because they hadn't started the day right. 

Brian replaced his finger with his cock and soon they were rocking back and forth.  Brian pushed into Justin and Justin pushed back.  Brian grabbed Justin's cock and Justin placed his hand over Brian's, a joining of all of their bodies, not just the sexual parts.  Soon they were lost in the feelings of intercourse, the unmistakable narrow minded focus of reaching a climax, a high that only sex can offer.  Drugs, booze, smoking all provided their own release, but sex was special, it was not a solitary act.  It involved a partner and that was the difference, especially when your partner meant the world to you and you would do anything to keep him safe.  These thoughts were not conscious ones on either man's part, but they both recognized the importance of starting their day connected to each other in the most intimate way possible.  It brought them together in the morning and kept them in each other's thoughts throughout the day.

The tingling of the spine, the shortness of breath and the sole focus on completion was felt by both men.  Oblivious to the chilling of the water in the shower or the reddening of Justin's skin as Brian pushed him into the tile, both men pushed toward their orgasm.  Justin shot over Brian's hand and Brian shot into the condom.  Brian wrapped his arms around Justin's torso and held him tightly as his body returned to normal.  Feeling his cock return to normal, he reluctantly pulled out, tying the condom and dropping it on the floor.

"I hate that part," Justin remarked.

"Yeah," Brian agreed.

"Some day?"

"Some day." Brian kissed Justin on the forehead and poured some shampoo in his palm, proceeding to wash Justin's hair.

"What time do the interviews start?"

"1:00. We have them scheduled every 45 minutes and then plan on spending about 15 minutes talking about the candidate."

"Why don't I come by at 5:00 or so?  Will you be finished by then?"

"I think we have an appointment at 5:00 but that would work well.  You could see the portfolios of all the candidates and then we could review them before we went to Woody's."

Justin turned off the shower and grabbed towels for both of them.  They went into the bedroom to dress for the day.

"Brian," Justin said as he reached for his underwear.

"Yeah."

"What if Michael..."

"Justin, this is Michael.  He runs a fucking comic book store.  He doesn't read the news unless it is about a new release of a comic book or a new action figure.  And even if he did hear about it from our more well read "family", do you think he would have an opinion?  He probably thinks it was cool that you got paid to strip. To him that is more impressive than your art.  Your art only has meaning to him in an abstract way.  He goes to openings because it's expected.  I love Mikey, but he wouldn't have an opinion about art unless he read it in a comic book."  Brian finished tying his tie and placed a kerchief in his pocket. Walking over to Justin, he kissed his forehead.  " I know you don't believe me, but I really don't think it is a big deal and won't be a big deal with our ‘family'." Unconsciously he walked to Justin's closet and grabbed a pair of black wool slacks and a light blue cotton sweater, handing them to Justin.  "You didn't work in a strip club where the hordes were pawing over you and sticking dollar bills in your jock.  You were in a very controlled environment, getting paid to entertain.  It's different.  And if anyone gives you shit about it, it's their problem, not yours."  He sat on the bed and watched Justin dress in the clothing he picked out.  "If I hadn't been so shocked and angry with you when I went to the birthday party with my client, I would have found it really hot."

"You never told me," Justin said as he ran his hands through his hair, putting it back in place after pulling the sweater over his head.

"It never came up.  Too much shit with finding you there.  I was furious that other guys were seeing you and that you hadn't come to me for money.  I would have given it to you."

"You were jealous?" Justin said as he grinned at Brian's confession.

Brian heard the clock chime from the hallway. 

"I have to go.  I'll see you this afternoon.  Remember, I love you."  Brian stood up, smoothed the bed where he'd been sitting and gently kissed Justin on the lips.  He walked downstairs, grabbed his briefcase and was out the door in a few minutes.

Justin stood in the middle of the room, digesting the short conversation.  Brian was jealous.  He didn't like other guys looking at me.  Wow.  We've come so far.  When did it become okay for Brian to tell me those things without my pushing?

Justin smiled realizing that his relationship with Brian was more important than any of the shit in his life.  It was going to be a good day.

TBC

Justin made his way into town listening to Sirius Radio and just enjoying the solitude in his car.  The morning had been filled with surprises.  Brian talking in the morning was unusual enough, but that he had admitted to being jealous of other guys seeing Justin was astounding.  Justin knew Brian found him hot, but hearing Brian admit it was affirming in its own right.  He sometimes wondered if Brian purposely waited to share little tid bits of conversation with him, hording them to drop casually in a conversation at just the right juncture.  He thought that might be something of a Kinney trait, especially knowing how much Brian hated talking in general.  As he had told many people, Brian and he talked a lot, their lives together were not just about sex and keeping their hands off each other, but their talks were private, not for public consumption.  And Brian still had the false notion that he had a persona to fulfill and admitting to more than fucking with his long -time partner was not something that came easily to him. Their friends had a small inkling that there must be more to their relationship than sex, but since Brian was an extremely private man, most of them could only guess.  He knew his mom and Daphne had been allowed to view the inside of Brian's persona and he was glad that Brian accepted them in the small circle of people who knew him in that way. 

He, on the other hand, tended to wear his heart on his sleeve and this resulted in other kinds of problems.  Everyone knew when he was upset or hurt.  He wished that he could not show every emotion, be the calm, quiet Brian Kinney, but maybe that was what made their relationship work. One of them had to be the emotional one and he guessed he was the designated partner in that arena. 

He had a meeting with Michael at 2:00 but thought he'd drive in to town and visit Daphne.  Daphne had a standing opening in her schedule on Tuesday mornings so she could run errands or take care of needed paperwork.  Since he returned from New York, he often stopped by to give her a little diversion and himself a chance to visit.  He pulled into the parking lot of her office building and glanced at the surroundings.

Across the street were a few people walking on the sidewalk and occasionally peering into the windows of the shops that lined the street.  A mother and her child were walking hand in hand and the little girl appeared to be pointing at something in the window of a toy store.  Her mother smiled and they entered the store.  Justin thought of his childhood, walking with his mother and pointing to an art supply at the museum and his mother allowing him to purchase just one thing each time they visited. 

The traffic on the street was light for this time of day.  It was too early for Christmas shoppers to be pounding the doors at the mall or the local Toys R Us since Thanksgiving was a few weeks away.  He knew after that fateful day, the mall and the toy stores would be packed with bargain hunters.  He shuddered as he remembered Daphne and him going to the mall shortly after Thanksgiving a few years ago and almost getting run down by the patrons.  There was something to be said for on line shopping. 

Thoughts of on-line shopping brought him to thoughts of Brian.  Brian, his partner, his lover, his muse, his reason for being.  He couldn't fathom life without the man in it.  Coming full circle, he thought of their conversation this morning and wanted to share it with Daphne.

He walked into the two story building, marveling at the abstract sculpture that graced the lobby.  Every time he saw the sculpture, he thought of different interpretations of the piece.  He imagined that was what good art was about, moving your audience.  He wondered if he would ever create again and even if he did, would anyone care.  He frowned at that thought and turned the door to Daphne's office filled with contemplation.

Daphne heard the bell ring as the door opened and came out from the back area to see who it was.  Her face beamed when she recognized Justin.

"Justin.  Everything okay?  You look like someone just stole your favorite toy," she asked as she hugged him. Opening the door to the inner office, she waived him back.

Justin moved toward one of her upholstered chairs.  Client chairs, she called them and he always laughed when she referred to them in that manner.  The chairs were a deep burgundy and overly stuffed.  There was a small side table between the two chairs and a box of Kleenex sat prominently on the table.  Two coasters sat atop the dark cheery wood, begging to be used to keep the finish intact.  It appeared that they worked, as Justin didn't see even a small scratch or water mark on the surface. 

"I told him," Justin said, not bothering with small talk.

"Told him?" Daphne thought she knew what Justin was talking about, but didn't want to assume since there was so much going on in Justin's life at the moment. Daphne went to the coffee machine and got out two cups to prepare coffee.

"About a child," Justin ran his hands over his face, but didn't continue the movement to his hair.  "I told him I wanted one, but with all that has gone on with the stalker, the interview and my painting, I wouldn't pursue it."

"I'm not following you," Daphne scrunched her eyes, trying to put all the pieces together from Justin's statements, but failing miserably.  She placed cream and sugar in one cup and just sugar in the other.

"I can't have a child, not now, not ever." Justin said with great sadness. "The stalker and the interview closed that door.  I could never subject a child to ridicule as a result of the poor choices I made while in New York."

"Ridicule,"

"The whole world knows I stripped for a living.  I can't risk having my child teased about his father the stripper.  Children are cruel and I can't knowingly do that to a child," Justin said softly, regretting again his folly in New York.

"Children will find something else to focus on.  Someone's clothing, their haircut, their grades, and of course, you can't leave out their sexual orientation," Daphne fired back, not even giving Justin a chance for rebuttal. "We can't protect our children from ridicule.  It's part of growing up.  Why don't you tell me the real reason why you think you can't have a child?"  She brought Justin his coffee and returned to the small wet bar.  She opened the cabinet under the sink and grabbed a plastic yellow watering can and begun filling it.

"The real reason?  I told you I can't have a child, knowing that my stupidity will result in their teasing."  Justin watched her water the plants and pick off a few dead leaves. 

"Justin, I've known you forever, well since we were five and that seems like forever.  I know how your brain thinks.  I know the world is more tolerant now, but your child could be teased because he has two fathers.  He could be teased because he lives in a mansion.  He could even be teased because he was Brian Kinney's son, the ex slut of Liberty Avenue."  She poured out the remaining water in the can and let it sit on the counter to dry.  "No one can predict what other children will do and we surely can't predict how our actions will ultimately affect any future interaction with other children.  It sounds as ridiculous as you won't have a child because he will have Craig as a grandfather. Since Craig is a homophobic bastard, kids might tease your child because its grandfather is a jerk." She smiled at her analogy, hoping to help Justin see how ridiculous his thinking on this subject appeared.  She sat in the other chair opposite Justin and picked up her coffee cup.  She took a sip and while it was warm, she stood up, taking it to the galley area of her office to rewarm it. "Why don't you stop making excuses about your future child being teased and really tell me what is going on?"

Justin looked down into his cup of coffee, and taking a sip of the warm liquid.  He placed the cup on the coaster and moved the coaster back and forth a little. 

"I don't want to lose Brian."

She decided to put on her counselor hat and just let him talk instead of responding as his friend.

"I know we talked about this a few weeks ago before all the shit came down.  You asked me if I ever wanted to be a father and I said it wasn't in the cards, that Brian didn't want to be a full time father and I wouldn't want to be a part time father.  Since I came back to Pittsburgh to be with Brian, it seems really selfish to add that to the wish list."  Justin watched as Daphne just nodded her head in agreement. 

"I mean Brian helped me so much in my recovery and he has been so patient.  Now he is dealing with this psycho stalker and I can't paint.  Who knows if I'll ever be able to paint again and then he will be supporting me.  It's all so complicated, Daph.  Life is just too messy.  I can't bring a child into the mix."  A few tears fell from Justin's eyes and he wiped them away. 

"Brian's happiness is more important than your own?"

Justin stared at Daphne, her voice bringing him out of his introspection.  Justin listened to the tick of the clock on the wall and focused his mind on the rhythmic noise. 

"No... Yes... I don't know," he said in quick succession.  "We're partners.  It's not only me or only him."  He put his face into his hands and rubbed at it.  "I told Brian that a child is not like a suit that you can return if you don't like it.  I know he understands, well I think he does.... he didn't raise Gus from a baby.  I'd like to be a father, but do I really even know what that entails.  Am I just using the stalker as an excuse not to pursue that avenue?  I don't even know what made me think of the conversation we had.  It's not like I don't have enough on my plate with the stalker and the interview.  Maybe my mind is just bringing up the baby thing to deflect the other issues.  What do you think, counselor?  Could I be using the baby issues to not confront the other things that are going on?"

"You have a lot going on right now."

"Yeah.  So many negative things, but a baby is a positive thing.  Maybe that is why I'm thinking of it."

"So you want some positive things in your life and you think a baby would be a positive thing."

Justin listened to Daphne's words; she was reflecting what he said but it sounded more reasonable when she said it.  Did he really want a child or was that a happy thing that could be in his life instead of dealing with all the shit that was happening?

Daphne's intercom buzzed and she looked at her watch. "Justin, I would love to continue this conversation but my first patient is here.  We can talk some more later.  It's like you said, you can't just go out and buy a baby like a new suit.  There is a reason that it takes 9 months before a woman gives birth.  She needs time to get used to all the changes that are coming in her life."

Justin smiled at Daphne and got up to hug her.  "I'm so glad you are on my side Thanks for listening."

"Any time.  Why don't I plan on coming out tomorrow?  We can watch a movie or something.  You need some fun that doesn't involve sex with Brian Kinney.  Not that sex isn't fun, but well...."

Justin blushed a little at Daphne's comment, but nodded at her.  "Sounds like a plan.  I'm off to meet Michael to talk about Rage.

Justin returned to his car and drove the short distance to Red Cape comics.  He was a little concerned how the meeting would go and wondered if Michael would comment on the article by Tim Callen.  He hoped that Michael didn't decide that his past would affect the comic. 

Parking the car in the side lot, he entered the shop.  Michael was helping a customer so he browsed the rotating stands in the front of the store. Thinking about the conversation with Daphne, he realized that if he continued to draw Rage it would be another area of possible ridicule for their child.  How do parents deal with their very adult jobs when they have children?  I never thought about talking to your child about your job and having to censor that information. Before Justin could really digest that whole scenario, Michael finished waiting on the last customer and the shop again was quiet.

"Sorry, we just got delivery of the new Thor comic and with the movie coming out in a few weeks, there has been a lot of interest in old issues."

"Ok," Justin said as he nodded his head, accepting Michael's explanation as truth since he didn't really follow the ebb and flow of comic land.

"I saw that article about you by the critic."

Justin felt a chill run down his spine as he listened.

"Yeah.  I bet sales of  Rage will increase when people read it.  That whole association thing, I have the comic that the stripper guy drew."  Michael grinned.  "I think I'll mention it when people start coming in.  Increase sales."  

Justin remembered Brian's words from this morning; realizing Brian did know Michael very well.  All Michael thought about was the comic book store and how his association with Justin, the artist who drew Rage could bring more sales. Justin didn't say anything; he didn't want to start Michael thinking about the negative side of being a stripper. 

They finished their meeting, discussing the next issue and Justin stating he would try to get working on the drawings.  Unlike his creative art, he felt he could draw Rage.  He felt a little relief that he could still contribute to the household income.

Justin still had a little time before he was supposed to meet Brian and decided to go to the diner to have some lunch.  He hoped it was late enough that the lunch crowd would be gone and that maybe Debbie would have left for the day as well.  Unfortunately neither was correct.

"Sunshine," Debbie said as she looked to the door to see who was entering the diner.  "Have a seat and I'll be right with you."

Taking a seat toward the back, he picked up the menu even though he knew exactly what was on it.  Glancing at the familiar paperboard, he decided on a burger and fries, noting that he never had really tried much of anything else on the menu. 

Debbie walked over a few minutes later, smacking her gum, pen and pad ever ready.   "What'll it be, hot stuff or should I say stud?" 

Justin turned red and his eyes went to the table.

"Just a little teasing,hon.  There's nothing wrong with an honest job, even if you do take your clothes off."  She felt the stares from some of the patrons and said, "Mind your own business." Deciding the diner wasn't very busy; she leaned down and scooted into the booth sitting her across from Justin.  "Honey, no one cares what you did.  You weren't selling your body for sex.  You were supporting yourself so you could paint.  And see where it got you.  You're a regular Picasso."

Justin put down the menu, unaware that he was still actually holding it.  He grabbed his coat and started to get up.

"Sit yourself down, Justin Taylor.  No one leaves when I'm talking to them."

Justin put his coat down and slumped over in the booth.

" Now you listen to me.  We are family and families support each other.  Every body has their skeletons.  Ted was a Crystal addict, I told Michael his dad was a war hero and... well he wasn't.  Ben tried to beat up those people after the bombing, and don't get me started on the rest of the family.  My point is that none of us are perfect."

"Brian said something like that this morning," Justin said.

"Brian is a smart man.  Don't let him know I said that; it might get to his head. But you managed to capture his heart and make him into a much better man.  Every one of us has been touched by your Sunshine so don't let the past haunt you."  Debbie stood up from the bench and returned her pen to her hand. "What'll it be?"

"Chocolate milkshake, cheeseburger and fries."

"Good thing your stripping days are over, Sunshine.  Eating like that could result in a few pounds," she teased.

Justin smiled, happy in the knowledge that at least with his "family" nothing had changed.

TBC

Brian sat in the interview with the third candidate; his mind wandering to Justin, the stalker, Tim's interview, his inability to paint as well as their recent discussions of a child. So much had happened in their lives since Justin had gone to New York.  If he hadn't been so adamant about supporting himself and not asking me for money, some of the pitfalls might have been avoided.  However; I'm a firm believer in no apologies, no regrets and they could no more turn back time then Cher could.  What the fuck, when did I quote lyrics by Cher?

If Justin hadn't been strip dancing, I might not have seen him at that damn birthday party.  And if I had been less shocked, I might have drug Justin out of there and talked to him right in front of the restaurant.  Of course, if I had done that, he would have never forgiven me.  I guess I handled that scenario well.  Still, had he not been in such a hurry to see me and set things right, he might not have taken that damn cab and gotten hit.  There were too many ifs in the world and no amount of retrospective thinking could change the outcomes of the events.  It was what it was.  Still he was here supposedly interviewing a prospective employee for Kinnetik while Justin was floundering trying to figure out his life.  There was something really wrong with that picture, but I'm at a loss what to do to help him. 

Would a child help him?  Would it help him forget his problems?  Of course, a child takes time to grow and be born and who knows what our lives would be like. We would have to find someone to have the child and then she would need to get pregnant.  By the time the baby arrived, our lives could be so different and where would Justin be?  I don't think the idea of having a child is going to resolve Justin's angst at this moment.  A child may be in the future, but it might not.  Too many variables to answer that question. 

Justin would make a good father.  I've watched him with Gus all these years and unlike me, he had a loving father for many years.  Too bad, that asshole Craig gave up on him when he said he was gay.  What a horrible father, to throw your kid away like that.  But who am I kidding?  My old man wasn't the poster child for father of the year either.  Hell he wished I was dying instead of him when he found out I was gay.  What kind of father wishes his own child dead?  Of course, dear old Dad never wanted me to be born anyway, so at least he was consistent.

Crap.  I need to pay attention.  Cynthia will have my ball if she knew where my mind was at this moment. Especially when I insisted that I be here for these interviews.

  "...Brian, do you have any questions for Calvin?" Cynthia asked a second time.

Hearing his name brought him out of his contemplation and he shook his head to clear the images there.  "Calvin, where do you see yourself in 5 years?"

Taken a little aback as he thought he'd covered that topic, Calvin sat up and looked at Brian.

"I love the idea of working for a small company and would love to help it expand to other markets.  I don't want to work for a large advertising agency where I'm one of 30 executives, but would rather make an impression with the best agency in town."

Brian said, "Thank you for your time.  We will be interviewing several other candidates and making our decision within a week."  Brian stood up to walk Calvin to the door and returned to his chair.

"Bri, why did you ask Calvin that question?  We covered that information in the first part of the interview," Ted asked, feeling comfortable questioning his boss and close friend.

"I just wanted to see if he would answer the same way," Brian snapped.

"Calm down.  I know you have a lot on your mind.  Do you want to sit out the last interview?  Cynthia and I have a good handle on the candidates."

"Theodore, I most certainly do not want to "sit out" the last interview.  This is my company and we are hiring a creative person.  I will be part of the process," Brian said with a tone that meant there was no discussion needed.

"Okay.  We have one more candidate.  His name is John Scott and his resume is very impressive." Even though Brian and Cynthia had seen the information previously, Ted handed both of them folders with John's portfolio and resume as he left the room to get him.

Brian was preoccupied with chastising himself for his lapse in concentration and just nodded toward Ted.

________________________________________________________

John entered Kinnetik and introduced himself to Sally, the receptionist.  She pointed to the side chairs and told him he would be called when they were ready for him. 

John took out his portfolio and reviewed his projects, especially the last few he had completed for Organza.  Organza was a new and innovative company in the Pittsburgh area and he knew the idea of wearable tech was up and coming.  He thought his ideas for their latest campaign were above average and so did Darren, his boss.  He couldn't share the campaign with Kinnetik, but he could share some of the other campaigns he'd been a part of.  He knew he was a strong candidate for the job and just had a feeling that this was an omen.

He'd been chosen to interview with Brian's company.  It would give him the ultimate opportunity to get close to Brian and see Justin while Brian was running the company.  He envisioned renewing his relationship with Justin while he worked at Kinnetik.  He was sorry that he'd been unavailable and Justin had turned to Brian for comfort.  He hoped Justin would forgive him for this lapse.

He could see them together.  Justin would continue his career in art, showcasing his work in New York and other markets.  With his new position, he would be close to his love and they would be the talk of the art world as well as the advertising community.  Together they would develop the highest caliber campaigns that were sure to win many Clio's as well as receive international recognition. 

It all seemed to make perfect sense and their lives flowed together seamlessly.  He didn't see the obvious flaws in his plan, mainly that Justin had no idea who he was and he was in a relationship with Brian. 

He looked around the lobby, recognizing several paintings as Justin's work.  His partner was so talented.   _________________________________________________________  

Justin drove to Kinnetik, parking his car in the adjacent lot.  Buttoning his coat against the sudden increase in wind, he shivered at the cold.  Walking into the building, he stopped at the front lobby to talk to Sally, the new receptionist. There was a man dressed in what appeared to be interview clothes sitting in the waiting room and he decided he was the last candidate for today. 

Appearing to have timed his entrance well, he said quietly, "Hi Sally.  Are they still in their interviews?"

"Hi Justin.  They just finished their fourth candidate and have one more to go." She smiled at Justin as he was always courteous when he came in the building.  She thought he and Brian made a great couple.  She also knew that Brian was always in a good mood when Justin was around.

"Okay.  Let Brian know I'm in his office."  Justin started walking toward the back where Brian's office was located when he heard his name called.

"Justin.  I'm so glad to see you.  I wasn't expecting you here today.  I thought we agreed that we would meet tonight," John said as he walked toward Justin.

John came up from behind and engulfed Justin in a hug before he could turn around to see who was addressing him.  Kissing his neck, he inhaled the scent of Justin's shampoo and body wash. 

"You smell wonderful.  I've missed this so much."

Justin pulled away from John, yelling "Who are you? Get off me!!"

Sally heard the commotion as did Brian, Cynthia and Ted. They came running out from the conference room where they found Justin struggling with a man in the lobby.

Ted immediately assisted Brian to extricate Justin from the man while Sally called the police.

"Justin, my love, I've missed you so much.  I know we're supposed to meet tonight, but when I saw you there, I just had to..."

"Freak.  Get away from me!!!," Justin yelled as he backed away toward the couch, unable to take his eyes off this stranger.

"I know we talked about you leaving Brian and giving him time to adjust, but I just couldn't wait," John continued talking as he watched Justin's retreat.

"I love you so much.  Tell these guys to let me go and we can leave here, celebrate our reunion."  John struggled against the hold that Brian and Ted had on his arms.

Realization came to all of them as they listened to John.  This man was the stalker.  He was the man who had sent Justin and Brian those pictures.

"Bri,... I didn't realize..." Ted said

"He's from New York.  He was going to apply for a job with my company and I would have...." Brian said.

"Brian, I talked to this guy at my last opening, even invited him to the after hours dinner," Justin said as he recognized John.  He shivered as a cold chill ran through his body. 

The police arrived and were led to the area where Brian and Ted were still holding back John.

"What seems to be the problem, gentleman?" The officer looked at the scene and found it a little odd. The man who was being held was in a suit, appeared to be a professional and the two men holding him were also in business dress.  A fourth man was dressed in very casual attire of khakis and a hoodie and was staring at the other three men.  He also was a little pale, like he was slightly in shock.

"This man is delusional, thinks he's in a relationship with my partner," Brian said, the venom evident in his voice.

"Why are you holding him?" the officer asked.  "Did he attack someone?"

"He attacked my partner, right here in the lobby."

The officer looked at the young man in Khakis and then back at the man being held. 

"Sir, were you attacked by this man?" he asked as he pointed to John.

"Yes.  He was hugging me and...." Justin ran his hand across his face and started backing up toward the couch.  He felt very cold and wanted to be wrapped in Brian's arms.

"We have a fucking restraining order against the man.  Is that enough for you to take him away?" Brian said, getting a little tired of trying to explain the situation.  He watched Justin backing up and his eyes were turning glossy.

"A restraining order.  Okay."  The policeman went to John as Brian and Ted released their hold.  He cuffed the man and read him his rights, then led him out to the waiting squad car. 

After the man left, Brian immediately went to Justin who was still sitting on the couch in the lobby.  He was staring into space and Brian recognized the signs of an impending panic attack. 

"Justin," he said softly where almost no one else could hear.  "It's going to be fine.  He can't hurt you.  He's gone.  You're safe.  I'm here."  He engulfed Justin in his arms, not caring that he was sitting in the middle of the lobby of Kinnetik.  After a few minutes, Justin looked up at Brian.

"Brian.  Is he gone?"

"Yeah."

"Can we go home?"

"Sure." He turned toward Ted and said, "I'm leaving."

"Sure, Bri," Ted said and he walked toward Justin mentally ticking off a list of things that needed to be done.

 "I'll get the car.  You stay with Sally and Cynthia and I'll be right back."

They nodded their tacit approval and sat down on either side of Justin while Brian gathered his things and went for his car.

"I'm so sorry, Justin.  I didn't put the two together," Ted said as he waited for Brian.

"S'okay," Justin said, not really registering the conversation.  He was concentrating on holding it together until he and Brian were alone, needing his partner more at this moment than he could remember.  Cynthia reached around Justin with her arms and gave him a hug.  "You're safe here.  Always will be."

Justin nodded his head at the words, but registered the soft tone rather than their message.

Brian came into the building and reached out his hand for Justin, pulling him up to stand.  He led him out of the building, opening the car door for him and watched as he latched the seat belt around his torso.  Brian went to the driver's side and steered the car toward West Virginia.  Justin stared out the window the entire drive home.

They arrived at Britin about 30 minutes later and Brian parked the car in the garage.  Justin walked into the house, sitting at the kitchen table as it was the first place he saw.  Brian hung up his coat. 

"I'm going to change. Want to come upstairs?"

Justin stood up and followed Brian.  Brian quickly changed and motioned for Justin to join him on the bed.  He took the back rest and placed it on the headboard and sat against it.  Opening his legs, Justin sat between them and leaned back against Brian. They remained quiet for a bit, both of their minds racing.

"Why was he at Kinnetik?"

"He was applying for the position in the art department.  I should have recognized the name on the resume."

"The things he said.... I never..."Justin needed Brian to believe him and his innocence in this fiasco.

Brian leaned down and kissed the top of Justin's head and gave him a hug.  "I know."

"I didn't have to do the interview." Regret filling his voice.  "No one needed to know." He thought about the questions Tim had asked a few days ago and his answers.  He'd laid bare his history of stripping for all the world to see, only to see the Stalker caught.  "Why did I listen to you; I could have kept quiet?"

"No.  You needed to do the interview.  This guy was delusional but there could be people who would try to sell your picture to the tabloids or worse.  Gossip columnists are just one story away from exposing anyone's past. You have nothing to hide."

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry is still bullshit, Justin.  You didn't do anything wrong.  I told you that trying to support yourself is no crime.  I should have been more insistent in giving you money.  I knew how much you were struggling."

"I needed to succeed on my terms." Justin wanted Brian to remember why he did what he thought necessary.

"Always stubborn," Brian kissed Justin again, happy to see some spark returning to his partner. "You are a success and you were then too.  The stripping did serve its purpose.  It gave you more time to paint."

Justin nodded his head, thankful that Brian conveniently neglected to reiterate the part about Justin having more time but no interest in painting.  "What do you think will happen to him?"

"Not sure.  I'm no shrink, but it's obvious the man needs help.  We should let Carol know he got caught.  She'll probably call his friend and let him know."

"Probably let the "family" know they can free their lives up to not ‘Justin' sit," Justin said with a little smirk of his mouth.

Brian shrugged, not agreeing or disagreeing with the statement.

"I wrote the Brian Kinney manual and I know you asked everyone to watch over me.  Brian Kinney, aka Rage, is alive and well."

Brian laughed out loud; the sound, music to both men.

"The stalker is with the police and you are safe here with me.  I think that is reason to celebrate," Brian said as he lifted Justin's shirt and played with the soft skin on his belly.

"I like the way you think."  Justin grabbed both ends of his shirt, lifting it over his head and then tossing it to the floor. 

They celebrated their love and the capture of the Stalker for a few hours and then, as frequently happened; Justin's stomach protested its emptiness. 

TBC

Brian and Justin made their way down to the kitchen. Brian opened the fridge and hunted for some left overs but didn't see anything that enticed him. Grabbing some cheese he took out a cutting board and sliced some.  He took some crackers out of the cupboard and placed them on a plate along with the cheese. Taking two beers out of the fridge, he brought them all to the table.  Justin sat at the table and took a few slices of cheese and placed them on a cracker, taking a bite.

"Gourmet food," Justin said as he took several more bites.

"Kinney cooking at its best," Brian said as he made a small sandwich with the cheese and crackers. 

Justin ate a few more cheese and cracker combinations and drank his beer, but didn't say anything.  Brian needed to know that he was ok and as much as he hated talking, this was one instance he felt the need to explore Justin's thoughts.  He watched his partner eat in silence, the lack of words demonstrating to Brian how not ok Justin really was.  Typically meal time was a time for them to share their day and to connect to each other.  He watched Justin eat in silence and not even attempt to make small talk. 

"Those things he said....I never... I wouldn't...." stammered, his eyes down cast, staring at some small cracker crumb on the table.

"They're words, Justin.  Actions speak louder than words," Brian said.  He reached out to place his hand over Justin's and gently squeezed and then he leaned over to place a soft kiss on his lips, knowing that Justin would understand the message.

Justin waved his hand across the table, moving the few crumbs to one pile. "We should call Carol. She'll want to know."

Brian took out his phone, looking at the time on the display. It was still early, only 7:30. Scrolling through his address book, he hit the button for Carol, Justin's agent.

"Brian.  Is everything alright?  Has something happened to Justin?" The alarm in her voice evident. 

"Justin is fine, a little shaken, but fine.  The stalker has been caught and he's in police custody."

"How did they catch him?  Did they find him in New York?"

"He had the gall to apply for a job in Kinnitek and came for an interview."

"Oh my," Carol said.

Brian filled her in on the details of the interaction.  As he retold the events of the afternoon, he glanced at Justin, recognizing the hand wringing and the poor eye contact as signs of stress in his partner.  As much as he disliked talking, he decided the next person to call would be Daphne. 

"Thank you for the call.  I'll let his friend Peter know.  I'm glad Justin is ok."

"He wasn't harmed." Brian did not elaborate, but he was fairly certain Carol could read between the lines and understand that Justin was most definitely not "ok" in psychological terms.

"I'll talk to you in a few days.  Take care of him."

"Thank you.  I will."

Brian hung up and called Daphne, repeating the information to her.

"Should I come over?"

"Yes," Brian answered, happy that he didn't have to ask for help. 

"Be there in about half an hour."

"I guess I should call my mom," Justin said when Brian hung up with Daphne. 

"Yeah.  That'd be good."

Justin felt for his phone in his pocket but his pocket was empty.

"I guess it's upstairs."  Justin stood up, feeling like the weight on his shoulder was lifted but still feeling incredibly sad.  He was happy that the stalker appeared out of the picture, but now that issue had been resolved, there were still others ones that weighed heavily on him.  Walking up the stairs, it was all he could do to pick up his foot and plant it on the stairs.  Locating the phone on the night stand, he picked it up, scrolling for his mother's icon and then dialed.

"Justin.  Hi Sweetheart!  How are you?  I haven't talked to you all week," she said without malice or accusation.

"They caught the stalker," he said, no feeling in his words as if he was telling her that he had cheese and crackers for a snack.

"That's wonderful.  I'm sure you're relieved," she said, the excitement evident in her voice. She felt a calm go through her body; the constant edge of being on alert releasing at the news. 

"Yes," he said, again lacking any conviction.

"Justin...." She wanted to explore his lackadaisical answer and could hear in his voice that he was troubled, but she did not want to push.  It was enough that he called her and told her and she knew that she would find out more from either Brian or Daphne.  She wasn't trying to go behind Justin's back when talking to either of them and neither would break his confidence but she knew if there were problems she could count on them to fill her in.  "I love you and I'm glad he's caught.  I'm sure you have a lot to take care of.  I'll let you go and talk to you tomorrow.  I'd love to know the details, but that can wait.  Go celebrate with your husband."

Justin clicked off the phone and placed it in his pocket, and then sat on the bed.  He scrubbed at his face a few times and just stared into space, letting his mind wander.   The stalker was caught.  It was a guy from New York.  He really freaked me out when he started hugging me in Brian's office.  It was so weird, like we'd known each other and he was expecting me to hang out with him. I know Brian said he believed me, that I didn't know the guy, but.... 

Justin had been gone for a while and Brian went upstairs to check on him.  He found him on the bed just staring.  Sitting down, next to him, he watched his partner and waited, hoping Justin would share his thoughts.  He didn't really like to carry on long involved discussions just to keep the quiet at bay, but he knew his partner was struggling with a lot of issues and he wanted to be there for him. 

"Hey," Justin said when Brian sat down.  "I called my mom."

"Good."

"What do you think the police will do with him?"

"Not sure."  Brian leaned over and gave Justin a quick kiss on his cheek.  "Maybe we should call Carol back and see if she reached the guy that came to the gallery.  I remember her saying something about his partner being a therapist."

"Did you call Daphne?  Is she coming over?"

"Yes and yes," Brian said not correcting his partner, knowing Justin was there when he called, but choosing not to remind him that he heard the call.

"I'd like to hear her viewpoint."

"That could be helpful.  I'll go down and make sure the lights are on outside.  She said she would be here in half an hour," Brian said as he stood up to leave.

"I'll be down in a minute."

Justin went to the bathroom and splashed water on his face and took a look in the mirror.  His reflection hadn't changed since this morning, but he felt different.  The idea of the stalker had been abstract, a couple of letters mailed to his home was definitely on the creepy meter, but having said guy talk to  you face to face and profess his love was something entirely different.  It was more real and could not be placed in the back burner of his mind.  Justin heard the front door open and he went down stairs to meet with Daphne.

She opened her arms in greeting and Justin allowed himself to be engulfed in the familiar embrace.  He let go and they walked toward the living room.  Brian fixed Daphne a drink of iced tea and brought it to her, placing it on the coaster on the coffee table.

"How did you guys catch him so fast?  I mean, he sent those two notes in the mail and you just found out his name a few days ago.  Did you see him on the street or in the gallery?"  She leaned back against the couch cushions and felt the cool liquid slide down her throat.

"He came to Kinnetik," Justin said.  "He'd applied for a position in the art department.  I walked in to meet Brian and he started saying crazy stuff, like he was so glad I was there... he was going to wait to meet up with me, he loved me...."

"Lots of bat shit crazy lesbian love talk.  Sounds like he's watched too many love stories on tv.  Then he starts hugging and kissing Justin, professing his undying love and how he's so glad they are out in the open now," Brian said as he retold the bizarre events from earlier today. "Sally called the police while Ted and I pulled him off Justin."  Brian rang his hands a few times when he remembered the events.  "And then the stupid cop wasn't going to do anything, until I told him we had a restraining order.  He finally arrested him and took him away."

"Justin, even your stalker has drama," Daphne teased. 

Both men rolled their eyes, but both smiled a little at her teasing.

"Didn't you say that the guy had a therapist friend?"

"His friend dates a therapist," Brian said clarifying. 

"Didn't he call Carol?"

"Yeah. He thought his friend was acting weird and went to see Justin's show in New York.  He ran into Carol there and they started talking. Normally I don't think she would have said anything but something made her talk to him.  Strange how things work," Brian said, thinking again how this whole chain of events had unfolded.

"Maybe I should call the friend. After all, he did tell Carol. Hopefully he can come down and take care of his friend. The police won't be able to hold him."

Justin sat up straight, hearing Daphne's words. The adrenaline shot through his body and he moved toward Brian.

"What the fuck!!! He practically attacked Justin in my office.  What do you mean the police will let him go?"

"Legally, they can arrest him for not following the restraining order.  They will fine him, but they aren't going to keep him unless they can prove that he is likely to cause harm to himself or others."

"He's a threat to Justin," Brian practically screamed.

"A threat has to mean that he will do bodily harm to him.  There is no evidence that this will happen.  The man has declared his love for Justin, not some revenge plan.  They will probably keep him overnight, and maybe have him talk to a psychiatrist, but that is unlikely.  Most likely, they will tell him to stay away from Justin."

"Shit! Mother Fucker!  I thought we were done with this drama."  Brian turned toward Justin and hugged him close to his body.  "Guess you aren't released from the gang brigade just yet."

"Do you have the friend's number?  Let me call him and tell him what I know.  I'm sure he can help."  Daphne gave Justin a big hug.  "Well figure this out."

Brian pushed his chair away from the table and walked up the stairs to their bedroom.  He pulled out Carol's card and flipped it over verifying Peter's name and number was on the back.  He was not a man who believed in prayer but today he hoped that between Daphne and Peter, the stalker, John, would be removed from their lives. 

Handling the card to Daphne, she took it and walked into the media room to make the call.

"Hello, may I please speak to Peter Helio?  I'm Daphne Chambers, a friend of Justin Taylor."

TBC

"Good nite," Peter said as he kissed his longtime friend, John, on the cheek.  They stood at the door to his and Michael's apartment as John held his coat.   "It was a great evening and as usual Michael cooked a great meal. I'll see you when I return from Pittsburgh."  John smiled, the look taking over his face as it did when he was extremely happy. 

Peter had seen that look several times this evening when John was talking about the artist, Justin Taylor and while John appeared happy, it made Peter uncomfortable. Looking at Michael, he saw Michael nod imperceptibility at John's words and then they looked at each other; Michael frowned slightly as he listened.  Michael gave John a hug goodbye as well and they let their guest out for the night.

"I think we should go see Mr. Taylor's exhibit.  I'd like to see the paintings and the bio myself.  Something tells me it's important," Michael said as he closed the door.

"Do you think we should tell somebody?  I already said something to his agent; Carol and she promised to let Mr. Taylor know about John.  I just think that may not be enough."  Peter went into the kitchen, placing the pots and pans in the sink filled with water.

"I don't know what else to do."  Michael wet a clean cloth and put some cleanser on it to wipe down the stove and table.  "As a therapist, there is a duty to warn if I thought John was a threat to himself or others, but I don't think fantasizing about being in a relationship constitutes a threat."  He walked into the dining area and wiped down the table there as well.  He threw the cloth in the laundry room and grabbed the broom and dust pan to sweep the floor, getting rid of any crumbs.  "If he were to attempt to harm Mr. Taylor or his partner or talked about hurting either of them, then I would have to intervene.  However, at this point in time, talk is free and so is John's fantasy.  Maybe seeing the exhibit will give me a better handle on the situation."

"Let's go tomorrow.  I know they're open late on Thursdays."  Peter picked up the first pot and cleaned it, then left it to dry on the rack."  I'll meet you there after work and we can have a late dinner.  Maybe try out a new restaurant as we aren't over in that part of town often." He picked up the second pot and repeated his actions.

Michael placed the broom and dust pan back in the small cleaning closet and hugged Peter from behind as he finished washing the last pan from dinner.  "You're such a good friend.  John is lucky to have you in his life."  He kissed him on the back of the neck and waited until he turned off the water.  Spinning him around he kissed him hard on the lips and Peter responded with an open mouth as he wrapped his arms around his partner.

"Let's forget about John for now."

"I think that's an excellent idea."

They met at the June Kelly gallery at 6:00, an hour before closing and went into the exhibit.  As they walked through the exhibit they didn't speak much but took in the art. 

"Mr. Taylor paints a lot of abstracts but his subject matter is often another man.  Did you notice that?" Michael said as he was glancing at several pieces for the second time.  "I imagine they represent his partner."

"I agree.  I see a likeness in many of his pieces.  They must have a strong relationship for him to be the center of so much of his art," Peter said.  "This doesn't bode well for John.  What do you think he will do when he realizes Justin is in a relationship?"  He reached for Michael's hand, intertwining his fingers and squeezing gently.

"When he returns, I think we should intervene.  I like John and don't want him to get hurt."

"Intervene?  What does that entail?  I mean, how do you tell someone that the relationship they've been talking about is not real?"

They walked out of the gallery as the lights were dimming, signaling its impending closure.  Peter had looked up a few restaurants on his break at work and had mentioned Kelley & Ping as an option. Michael had agreed and they walked toward the Asian restaurant.  As always, the streets were busy with pedestrians as well as cabs and buses.  New Yorkers never lacked for activity.

Michael started to answer the question, but as they walked toward the restaurant Peter's phone rang.  Looking at the screen, he didn't recognize the number from out of the area, but intuition told him it was important and he answered it.

"Hello,' he said tentatively.

"Is this Peter Helio?" Daphne asked, hoping Brian had the correct number. She sat at the edge of Brian's large leather office chair, too nervous to sit back in the behemoth.

"Yes.  Who is this?  How did you get this number?" Quickly scanning his brain for any one he knew who was out of the area and would have his number, he drew a blank.   It concerned him on several levels; one that someone knew his number and two that they were calling at 7:00 in the evening.  He felt his heart speed up and his hands were quickly moist.

"My name is Daphne Chanders.  I'm a friend of Justin Taylor's.  I got this number from his agent, Carol Singh."

With the mention of the artist, he quickly scanned the street for a quieter place to talk. "Hold on," he said as he ducked into a little sandwich shop.

Michael looked at him with a little confusion but followed his lead. "This is Peter."

"I understand you are friends with a man named John Scott.  Is that correct?"

"Yes. Has something happened to John?"  Peter's hand started to sweat and he looked around for a chair to sit in.  Michael motioned toward a table to the back of the shop and they made their way there quickly.

"John was arrested this afternoon.  He accosted Justin in the lobby of Kinnetik.  He was spouting all kinds of nonsense about them being together, a couple."

"Shit!"  Peter took several breaths and said, "Look, my partner is a therapist.  Can you tell him what happened; maybe he can help."  Peter handed the phone to Michael.

"Hello, this is Michael Strong.  How can I help you?"  Michael wasn't clear on what was happening but it was really unusual for Peter to hand him the phone so he was very concerned.

"I'm Daphne Chanders, a friend of Justin Taylor's.  I understand you're a therapist.  Is that right?"

"I have a Master's in Counseling and I work with several doctors in a small practice. What is this about?"

"It appears that Mr. Scott thinks he is in a relationship with Justin.  He went to Kinnetik, Justin's partner's business and saw him in the lobby.  He went up to Justin and stated he couldn't wait for their meeting this evening and talked about him leaving Brian, his partner.  He had to be restrained from embracing Justin.  They have a restraining order against him for the letters he sent, so the police agreed to take him away.  I think he needs some medication but definitely some intensive counseling.  He may even need hospitalization, but a more thorough exam would need to be completed."

"Those are some pretty strong statements, Ms. Chanders," Michael said as he nodded his head.  Peter watched Michael's face as he frowned deeply. 

"I'm a therapist and have a private practice in Pittsburgh. After everything that Justin and Brian have been relaying to me, I think your friend may need professional intervention.  Of course, I can't judge his mental state unless I evaluate him, but I was hoping since Peter and he are good friends, he might have some insight into the situation."

Michael listened intently and remembered she said something about letters. He pointed to the counter, indicating that Peter should order them food and he continued the conversation. "You said Mr. Taylor had a restraining order against John based on some letters.  Can you tell me about those?"

Peter got up and went to the front of the counter and ordered them two sandwiches.  He'd lost his appetite, but ordered anyway.

"He sent two letters to Justin with some pictures.  Justin supported himself by dancing for a short time and evidently Mr. Scott attended a party where Justin danced.  The pictures have Justin dancing for Mr. Scott."  Daphne hated to bring out the information but she knew that it was already public.  Tim Callen, the critic had published the article about Justin's days as a stripper yesterday.  Daphne cringed when she thought of her best friend and what he was dealing with these past few days.  She knew Justin still had many unresolved issues surrounding that time of his life and it was affecting his painting as well as his future.

Daphne was glad she had chosen to go to Brian's office to have the conversation.  She picked up the envelope lying on the desk that held the pictures. Brian had showed her both envelopes and had moved them to his office to get them out of Justin's view.  She wasn't sure why he had it on his desk, but she unclasped the envelope again and looked at the pictures with a more knowledgeable eye.  It appeared that John Scott had taken this innocent strip job and twisted it in his mind.  Now he believed he and Justin were together.  He had gone so far as to apply for a job in Pittsburgh to be close to him.  This was a lot more involved than anyone realized.

"I don't think the police are going to intervene, especially since he has made no overt threat.  The restraining order got him out of the office, but I fear there could be some escalation.  According to Justin and Brian, he really seemed to believe that he was in a relationship with Justin."

"Where is he now?" Michael asked as he looked for something to write with in his shirt pocket.

"I assume he is at the police station.  This happened several hours ago, but it takes a while to process folks." Daphne placed the pictures back in the envelope, shaking her head at the current tangled web that John appeared to be enveloped inside.

"Do you know which precinct he went to?" Michael asked hopefully.  He wasn't certain if calling the police was the right avenue but it was a first step.  He looked up as Peter brought two small baskets with their sandwiches to the table.  Peter left the sandwiches and went to fill their drink cups.

"Wait.  I'll get it for you."  Daphne scrolled through her phone and found the number, giving it to Michael.  "What are you going to do?"

"I'm calling the police.  I'll ask them to hold him until I arrive.  I've got a colleague I can bring with me who will evaluate him.  I'm too close to do a safe evaluation.  He knows me and ... well you know the whole ethical situation."

"I do.  Will you call me and let me know what happens. I'd like to reassure Justin and Brian that he is safe for now."

"Absolutely."  Michael looked at his watch and saw that it was already 7:30.  He might get lucky and be able to catch a really late flight out tonight, but most likely would not be able to do so until the morning.  He hoped the police would keep John that long.  "I'll let you know soon.  I've got to start making calls.  Thanks for the phone call, Ms. Chanders."

The phone clicked off and Peter looked at Michael with eager eyes and concern. "Well."

"I should have listened to you. Evidently, John sent some letters to Mr. Taylor.  There were some pictures of him and Justin together.  Justin used to be a strip dancer and was hired to dance at a show that John attended.  It appears that John got in his head these pictures were of them as a couple. John publicly went up to Justin Taylor proclaiming his love and expressing his excitement with their reunion."

"Shit!" Peter said.  When I saw his picture, I asked Carol if he'd ever danced for "Dancing Beauties".  I've attended a few parties where their workers entertained and he looked familiar.  I remember setting up a show for John's birthday a few years back.  You remember?  When he was out of work and really down. When Carol confirmed he worked there, I didn't realize he was the guy they sent to the party. That party was a few years ago.  I don't know why John suddenly decided they were in a relationship.  It makes no sense at all.  Regardless, I'm to blame for this whole mess."  Peter put his head in his hands and rubbed at his eyebrows. 

Michael put his hand on Peter's shoulder and squeezed gently, offering him comfort. 

"Peter, you did not cause this mess.  You aren't responsible for John's actions.  He needs help, Peter.  I'm going to call the police and talk to them, see if they'll hold him until I can get there tomorrow.  I'll bring Sam with me to evaluate him."

"Sam?  Why can't you talk to him?  You've known him forever." Peter raised his head and clasped Michael's hand.

"That's right.  I've known him forever and that is exactly why I can't do it.  It's not ethical to treat your friends or family.  Maybe I was too close to John that I didn't see the extent of his delusions," Michael scrubbed his face with his hands and looked at the table in the small sandwich shop.  "Ask for a "to go" wrapping.  There's a lot to do before tomorrow."

Peter started to protest that it wasn't Michael's responsibility to go to Pittsburgh, but he closed his mouth before any words came out.  He appreciated Michael's professionalism and his friendship and he recognized that Michael was right.  Sam had to be there and as much as he was right about John having problems, he was so sad that his intuition was as good as Michael always teased him about.  He went to the counter and asked for their order to be repackaged to go, waiting for the worker to rewrap them.

Michael called the police speaking to the officer in charge.

"I understand you arrested a young man by the name of John Scott this evening."

"Yeah.  He's in processing now."

"Are you going to hold him overnight?"

"Guy's got a restraining order and he violated it.  Cop who picked him up said he was acting all touchy feely with the complainant. Mr. Scott has been sent to The Western Psychiatric Hospital for observation.  He will be there for a 72 hour hold."

"Thank you."

Michael hung up the phone and called Daphne back filling her in on John's admittance to the psych ward. She thanked him.

Peter brought back the subs and Michael waved him to the table where he pocketed his phone, stood up and pushed the chair to the table.

 "Have you made the plane reservations already?  Do you need to call your boss?  I need to let Darren know.  What should I tell him about John?  I really don't want to blow this out of the water and get him fired, but I think Darren needs to know.  Did you contact Sam?"  Peter asked as they started walking toward the front of the small shop.

"I called the police station and John's been sent to the Psych ward for a 72 hour hold.  We have time to call folks, nothing is happening for three days."

"Can they do that?  I mean how do they just put someone in the hospital without their permission?"

"It's a safety precaution.  If the doctor thinks he might be a threat to himself or others they can place him in protective custody and evaluate his mental state.  We both know he is delusional and it's probably a good thing he is there.  He's safe."

"But he can't stay there.  He has a job and a life in New York.  He's got to know that Justin Taylor is not in a relationship with him."

"Peter, he spent all of last night going over all these elaborate stories and tales about their relationship.  John believes they are together.  He is delusional.  Face it, sweetheart.  Your friend needs help, more help than you or I can give him."

"But...But.... You're a therapist.  You're a great therapist. Can't you help him?"

"No. I can't.  Even if I wanted to.  I'm too close.  He needs someone who doesn't have a relationship with him.  I'll talk to Sam tomorrow and we can drive up there in the afternoon or the next day."

"Ok," Peter said as his mind mulled through the latest information.

"Maybe we can even meet Justin and his partner Brian," Michael said, thinking if he were in their shoes he would like to know that John was out of the way and his delusions being addressed.

"I don't know.  We've caused them enough trouble."

"I don't think they'd see it that way.  We helped them find John or at least get the restraining order so the police could arrest him."

"If this is such a good thing, why do I feel so lousy?  I feel like I betrayed my best friend," Peter said, the ache in his gut growing with each new revelation of John's actions. 

"You didn't betray him, love.  He is sick.  Just like when you had the flu last year, John has a mental illness.  He can no more help having these thoughts then you could help getting the flu."  Michael said as he stopped walking and gave his partner a kiss on the lips.  "You recognized something was wrong and tried to figure it out.  You got me involved, but unfortunately I brushed you off as having an overactive imagination. Next time you have intuition that something is wrong, I'll believe you."  They walked toward the subway station that would take them home.

"But..."

"No buts.  Hindsight is always 20/20 and none of us have crystal balls.  There are a million what ifs in this world, but we can't change the past, only try to make the future better.  John will need a good friend to get through this fiasco and we need to concentrate on thinking of ways to support him." They took the steps down toward the subway and waited on the platform for the next train. 

"I love you,' Peter said after the train going west passed through the station.

"I know.  We still have a few hours of this evening together and I'd like to enjoy them," Michael said as they boarded their train.  "It was supposed to be a nice evening out for us and while part of the evening is gone, we still have a few hours to make it special.  Let's go home and spend a few hours in bed."

Peter smiled at his lover's suggestion.  "I guess nothing more can be done tonight, so I agree.  Let's not waste the remainder of the evening. 

TBC

The conversation with Peter and Michael went well; they were eager to learn about their friend and didn't discard her information as trivial.  She hated bearing bad news, but she knew if John were her friend she would want to know about his situation.  It appeared that Peter and Michael didn't know about the letters. That made sense, as she doubted John would have shared that he was sending them; a part of him probably knew it was wrong.

Closing the door to Brian's office, she joined Brian and Justin in the kitchen.  Justin was sitting at the table playing with his coffee cup.  He turned it around and around, staring into space. As she walked into the kitchen, she hoped Justin would look her way in an unspoken request for information, but he didn't even turn his head toward her.

"Did you reach him?" Brian asked, eager for information and hopefully some closure to the situation.

Daphne pulled out a chair and sat at the table, searching Brian's eyes for some information about Justin's state of mind.  Brian shook his head in a barely imperceptible movement and Daphne nodded her acknowledgement.  She toyed with the idea of ignoring Justin's presence and talking to Brian, but knew if she were in his shoes, she would want people to talk to her rather than her partner.  She reached out to Justin and gently tapped his hand while repeating his name to get his attention.  After a few attempts, Justin looked at her, slightly confused as to why she was calling his name.

"I reached Peter Helio and Michael Strong, his partner.  Michael is a therapist; therefore he understood the legal and psychological situation.  It was helpful not to have to explain my concerns in more detail."

"What'd they say?  I mean did they know....  I would hope...." Justin asked, unable to complete a full sentence.  Despite his difficulties, it was easy for Daphne to understand his meaning.

"Peter was the one who told Carol about Mr. Scott in the first place.  He thought his friend was acting strange, but he didn't know about the letters.  I think only you, me and Brian knew about those.  And I guess the police.  I doubt they would have allowed you to get a restraining order without them."

"Ok.  So you talked to them.  What good does that do?  They guy thought his friend was acting weird, but it still doesn't change the situation.  I mean, the man applied for a job at Kinnetik and acted like he was Justin's partner.  What the fuck is anyone going to do about it?" Brian raised his voice at the end of the short conversation and slammed his hand on the table.  Wincing at the pain, he held it for a few minutes before he looked at Daphne for answers."

Daphne's phone rang before she could answer Brian.

"Hello."

"....I see."

"....Ok.  Thank you for calling." She pushed the button to end the call and looked at her companions across the table.

"That was Michael, Peter's partner.  He said they called the police and Mr. Scott is being held in the Psych ward for 72 hours.  They plan on coming up to talk to the doctor tomorrow or the next day." Daphne said as she heard the tick of the clock in the background.

"The psych ward?"  Justin asked, realizing he had not thought about the ramifications of the arrest until now.  He'd been so relieved to have the police take the man away and stop his unwanted advances.

"The police can send someone to the psych hospital for evaluation if they have sufficient reason to believe the person is a danger to himself or others.  When Mr. Scott violated the restraining order and started spouting love proclamations, it gave the police some additional evidence that he might be harmful to you."  She drank some of her tea as it was getting cold.  She pursed her lips as she weighed her next words.  "The legal system is complicated when it comes to mental illness.  The police want to keep citizens safe but they also have to protect the rights of the mentally ill individual as well.  Mental illness is no different than having Diabetes or Heart disease. A person doesn't choose to have a mental illness and it isn't a sign of weakness or bad judgment."  Daphne finished her short PSA and inwardly smiled as she thought of the many PSA's Brian had been subjected to by Justin through the years.  He used to tease him regarding his frequent use, but ultimately decided they were a part of Justin's personality and accepted them as he did Justin's other quirks.    She stifled a yawn, but Brian glanced at the clock and realized the time.

"Why don't you stay in the guest bedroom?  It's late and I'd like you here in the morning," Brian said as spoke volumes more with his eyes.

"Ok.  I'll get my bag out of the car.  I usually keep a change of clothing with me.  It's saved my ass a few times."  Daphne smiled warmly at Brian and took another look at Justin.  Her heart went out to her best friend and wished there were more she could do to help him, but knew sometimes the best thing was just to be there.  As she walked out of the kitchen, she mentally reviewed her schedule for the following day trying to decide if she could ethically cancel those appointments to be by her friend's side. Justin's mood in the morning would be the discerning factor.  She leaned over to give Justin a gentle kiss on his cheek and walked to her car.

"Justin, what is going on in that blonde head of yours?" 

"I'm sorry. I...."

Before Justin could continue with his unnecessary apology, Brian leaned over and kissed him on the mouth.  Justin felt the warm lips meet his, Brian's tongue slip out and caress his lips; the love and acceptance transmitted by the silent actions.

"No regrets. No apologies.  We can't alter the past, so stop apologizing for shit that can't be changed.  You're here.  You're safe.  No one is getting away with declaring his love for you in the lobby of Kinnetik except me and that is highly unlikely; after all I have a reputation to uphold," Brian said, tongue in cheek.  He leaned back in his chair and watched Justin's face. 

Justin laughed a little and Brian was pleased at his ability to get Justin to smile, even if it wasn't a typical "Sunshine smile". 

"Tomorrow, we'll call Mel and Carl and discuss our options.  And yes, before you start in on "you're sorry" kick yet again, it is our problem.  If you want to blame yourself for being stubborn and not asking for help, then we can just take it one step further and I can say I'm to be blamed as much as you."  Brian bit his upper lip and tapped his fingers on the table.  The hum of the fridge broke the silence in the room.    

"I knew you were struggling; I hadn't seen a painting of yours in several months and you had stopped talking about your work.  I didn't want to ask why there were no new pieces; you know how I so love "to talk".  Brian added the finger quotes in the air as he said the last part of the sentence.  "Brushing it under the rug doesn't make the problem go away; it just pushes it in the dirt and makes it dirtier. Instead, I just ignored the facts.  You had gone to New York to make a name for yourself in the art world yet you weren't even producing any art.  How crazy was that?   I should have pushed for a reason instead of ignoring the facts that were right in my face."  Brian leaned forward in his chair, almost close enough to kiss Justin, but then backed up slightly so he could look into his eyes.  Brian's voice cracked as his emotions pushed to the surface.

"So Justin, I'm sorry that I didn't ask why you weren't painting.  I didn't ask about studio time or new pieces.  Instead I just visited and fucked your sweet bubble butt.  We both paid for our silence."  Brian felt the moisture forming in his eyes as he remembered the horrible time after Justin's accident; a time when he wasn't sure he would ever have his partner back. While his partner was there physically, the memories of their time together had been erased in a split second when the taxi he was riding in was hit by another car.  They had both paid a high price for their unwillingness to talk about their lives, needs and wants.  I'm sorry didn't undo the damage they both had suffered.  "I've learned that sometimes talking is necessary." Brian reached out for Justin's hands, clasping them in his hands and squeezing them with reassurance and a silent apology.

Justin returned the clasp and nodded slightly, acknowledging the unspoken words of his partner.  They walked upstairs, undressing in silence; they each prepared themselves for bed and climbed under the sheets.  Justin lay on his side and Brian lay with his chest to Justin's back, curling his arm around Justin's waist.  Laying in silence, Justin was comforted by his partner's presence and fell asleep from exhaustion, allowing himself to rest in the protective arms of Brian.

Brian woke in the morning, the sunshine peeking out from the curtains in their bedroom.  He lay quietly as Justin slept.  Glancing at the clock he saw it was only 7:30 and too early to call Mel or Carl to discuss their next step.  The feel of Justin's warm body in his arms combined with the familiar scent of Shea butter and avocado caused his cock to stir.  It seemed that even though he was interested in letting Justin rest, his dick had other ideas.  They had gone to bed earlier than normal; therefore Brian decided making love was not a bad idea.  They could always sleep afterward.

Brian started exploring with his hands, massaging and caressing the shoulders and upper torso of his lover.  He loved that Justin was still as fit as he was when he was a senior in high school.  Recently Justin had been hitting the gym with Brian a few days a week and the definition of muscle in his arms and back only added to his already wonderful physique.  Brian's hands made small circles as they moved to his waist and the little indention in his upper back.  His hands moved down to the white globes of his gorgeous bubble butt and he kneaded the round humps.  Anytime Brian played with Justin's butt cheeks, he couldn't resist the urge to taste them.  Bending down and separating the cheeks, he stuck his tongue out to taste.  Swiping his tongue along the crack and then down to the pink pucker, he could feel his dick reach its full potential.  Brian continued to lick and taste Justin enjoying his treat.  Justin moaned in appreciation and pushed his cock into the bed to add some much wanted friction. 

"You're awake.  I was beginning to think I'd lost my touch," Brian teased as he swiped his tongue along the familiar route.

"You're evil.  How could I sleep through your expert rim job?" Justin said as he pushed up a little giving Brian more access.

With the extra room Brian reached in front of Justin and grabbed his cock, fisting it and smearing the precum over the sensitive head. 

Justin pushed his dick into Brian's hand then alternately pushed his ass into Brian's tongue, thus giving him dual stimulations. Brian could hear Justin's breathing increase as his arousal grew.  Letting go of his cock and sitting up, Brian reached over to the bedside table and grabbed the lube and a condom.  Brian lubed Justin's hole, even though it was pretty wet from his rim job.  He put some additional lube on his cock, spread Justin's cheeks and pushed gently as he breached the first ring of muscle.  The tight fit never lost its appeal and as always his first thought was this is the best feeling on earth; joining with his partner.  Waiting for Justin to signal his readiness for Brian to continue, he made a concerted effort to still his movements. Justin adjusted fairly quickly, hitting Brian's thigh; their familiar sign to move forward. Brian grabbed Justin's hips and used the leverage to move in and out of the tight channel.  Justin grabbed for his own cock, pulling it as Brian pushed into him.  Both men knew they weren't going to last long, but tried to postpone their completion, but failed as they felt their orgasms rush through their bodies.  Justin's cum covered his fingers and Brian filled Justin.  Brian stayed in Justin until his breathing recovered and then reluctantly pulled out.  Justin pushed his fingers toward Brian who licked them eagerly.

"Best breakfast ever," he remarked as he finished sucking each finger.

Justin's stomach chose that moment to growl loudly.

"Ah, but I see that we must feed your beast real food."

Justin's stomach growled a second time and they both laughed.

"I swear their really must be a beast inside you," Brain teased as he swatted Justin's ass.  "I'm taking a quick shower. Wouldn't want our guest to be jealous of my cologne, eau de Justin." 

"Anyone ever tell you that you are crude?"

"And, your point is?"  Brian got out of bed and walked to the bathroom, starting the shower for them.  "You coming?"

"I thought I just did," Justin answered, returning the playful banter.

"Yes, you did.  But are you joining me in the shower or do I have to start my day without shower sex?"

"Coming," Justin said as he made his way to the bathroom.  "But who's to say you will be having sex?  You just asked me to join you in the shower."

"Twat," Brian said as he kissed Justin when he walked into the shower.

 "Well maybe I will consent to shower sex.  After all it's the best way to start the day," Justin said as he pulled away from the kiss.  They bathed each other as was their ritual and also gave each other mutual hand jobs.  After drying and dressing they went to the kitchen where they found Daphne drinking a cup of coffee.

"I wondered if I would have to send a search party after you two.  It's after 9:00 and you never sleep this late," she teased. 

Walking up to the counter, she grabbed two mugs for coffee and poured coffee for each man.  Handing a mug to Brian, she watched as he put three sugars and two creams in his cup.  Justin placed one sugar and one cream in his and blew on it before taking a sip.  He smiled at the taste.

"You are a goddess, Daphne.  Maybe I could hire you to fix coffee every day," Brian said as he swallowed his first sip.

"No.  I think your housekeeper would be offended.  I'll keep my day job and just make you coffee when I stay over."  Her words took the playfulness out of the conversation, reminding each of them why she was gracing their kitchen in the early morning.

"What's next?  I mean the guy is in a psych ward and will be there for 3 days.  But what happens after that?  How do we protect Justin?"  Brian asked, hoping Daphne's knowledge would be beneficial in this situation.  Brian grabbed some eggs from the fridge and a bowl from the cabinet.  Justin had been hungry a few minutes ago and while the conversation was definitely more serious than their playfulness in the shower, he still had to eat. 

"There are a lot of what if's," she said as she opened the fridge taking out some cheese and mushrooms and grabbing a can of black olives from the cabinet.  She grated some fresh cheese into a bowl and cut up the mushrooms; happy that Brian and Justin always had fresh ingredients. 

"What if's?" Brian asked as he cracked the eggs into a bowl.

"The psychiatrist will evaluate Mr. Scott.  He will most likely visit with him on several different occasions. They keep the person for three days to get a good evaluation.  The first interview could be very different than the second or third one," she said as she opened the can of olives, cutting up a few and placing the remainder in a container for later use.  She made a note to tell the housekeeper they were in the fridge so she could put them in one of the dishes for later that day or tomorrow. 

"At the end of the three days, they will decide if he can be released or needs further care."  She placed spices into the mixture and handed it to Brian so he could add it to the eggs that were cooking in the fry pan.

Justin watched them, amazed at how comfortable Daphne was cooking in their kitchen, but realized that she'd been there a lot in the last few years, especially after his accident. He loved that she'd been there for both of them, but was saddened that their lives were filled with such disaster that her expertise had been needed.

"Further care?  What does that exactly mean in layman's terms?"  Justin asked as he grabbed some bread out of the bread box and popped it in the toaster; he could at least make toast.  Grabbing the orange juice out of the fridge, he poured small glasses for everyone and placed them on the table.  "And what if he doesn't need "further care" and comes back?  This is all so surreal." The smell of eggs and toast permeated the kitchen and Justin hoped breakfast would be served soon.

"Justin," Daphne said as she went to the table where Justin had seated himself and gave him a hug from behind.  "I know this is all so scary, but we are here for you and now we know who he is, we can act.  His friends are coming up today and will talk to the doctor.  I'm sure they will be there for him as well.  Now that they are aware of his delusions, they can ensure that he doesn't come back here alone.  Having someone who is aware of the situation will help a lot."  

She went to the cabinet and grabbed plates for the eggs and placed the toast on a larger plate as well.  She grabbed the butter from the fridge and placed silverware on the table.

"For now, we can't do anything.  Peter and Michael said they would call me and give me an update after they see him and talk to the doctor.  He's lucky to have friends who will come and take care of him."

Brian brought the eggs to the table and divided them up three ways.  He took two pieces of wheat toast and placed them on the plate.  Taking a bite of his eggs, he watched as Justin placed some food on his plate.  He was ready to intervene if he did not see his partner eating, but was relieved to see Justin take a few bites of the eggs.

"I thought we could go see the new exhibit at The Carnegie Museum.  You've been talking about going," Brian said.

"What about Kinnetik?  Don't you need to meet with Cynthia and Ted to talk about the interviews yesterday?" Justin said, looking at Brian and then at Daphne.

"A decision doesn't have to be made today. Kinnetik is my company, but Ted and Cynthia have a lot of input into decisions, especially this kind.  They'll talk about it between themselves and I'll talk to them later today.  Tomorrow will be soon enough to pick a candidate.  Today, I want to spend the day with you.  The last thing you need to do is sit around here and second guess your every move."

Justin ate a few bites of eggs and drank some juice.  His coffee was empty so he got up to pour himself a new cup, more for the need to get up from the table then wanting a second cup.  "I'm sorry I'm such a burden.  Maybe I should just go...."

"Justin Taylor.  You are not a fucking burden and stop fucking apologizing.  We've had a few stressful weeks and finally can see the light of day-  the creep was arrested and while he is under lock and key, I'd like to enjoy some time with you without looking over my shoulder."  Brian stood up and walked to Justin's chair, pulling it away from the table and kissing him soundly on the lips.  "Sorry is bullshit and I don't want to hear that word from your lips.  We need to spend some time together that doesn't involve reporters or the police."

Brian was frustrated with their lives and the lack of control.  He couldn't worry about who Kinnetik would hire for the art department, what the legal system would ultimately decide about "the stalker" or if Justin would ever create another work of art.  The one thing he could control was his love for Justin and he was determined to reconnect with his partner, reminding both of them that they were in a relationship which meant two people caring and supporting each other, no matter what else was happening in the world.

Justin looked down at the table and took a last bite of his toast and finished his eggs.  "Okay.  The museum sounds like fun," he said with less enthusiasm than Brian would have liked, but he realized Justin was most likely humoring him.  He needed to figure out a way to get his partner back on track, painting, visiting friends and even working on Rage.  Seeing art, even someone else's creations often got Justin in a creative mood, so he hoped this was a good way to move Justin back to his previous carefree self. 

"Daphne, can you come by tonight and give us an update on Mr. Scott?"  Brian asked as he cleared the table.

"Sure.  I've got to get going.  I've got appointments starting at 11:00." Watching her friends interact, Daphne decided she could leave Justin's in Brian's capable hands.  Daphne put her plate in the dishwasher and kissed Justin on the cheek.  She leaned down and gave Brian a kiss as well, grabbed her bag and left Britin.

Brian turned toward Justin. "Go get your wallet and phone and we'll go.  I've heard from Cynthia that the exhibit is excellent."

Justin went upstairs as Brian told him and returned a few minutes later. 

"Ok," Brian said as Justin walked downstairs.   I'll set the alarm and meet you in the garage." 

Justin got in the car and waited for Brian.  They drove into the city, neither man talking, but both lost in their own thoughts.

TBC

Michael sat on the beige overstuffed couch in the living room of their apartment, reviewing the events of the last several days. He couldn't believe it was just two days ago John had joined them for dinner. He remembered how Peter was very disturbed by his friend's recent behavior and after their dinner he agreed John was acting differently.  He hadn't been willing to confront him at the time, hoping to gather a little more information, but now, his worst suspicions were confirmed.

Last night as they were leaving the June Kelley Gallery, Peter had received a call informing him that John had been arrested. The details were provided and then he discovered the police had sent him to the psych ward for a 72 hour hold. It was a serious action by the police and not enacted lightly, hence his call to Sam. Sam was an old friend; they'd attended their graduate training together at NYU and then had the same supervisor for their certification hours. They'd studied together for their licensure exam and were also active in the local chapter of therapists and social workers. They were colleagues but also friends. Sam had been his first choice when he heard about John.

Peter came into the living room with a towel wrapped around his waist. He was using a second towel to dry his hair and Michael smiled appreciatively at the sight.

"If we didn't have to go to work...." Michael eyed him and unconsciously licked his lips. "You shouldn't be allowed to walk around the apartment like that, love." Michael said as he walked up to Peter and gave him a kiss on the mouth. He reached under the towel and groped Peter's cock.

Peter swatted his hand away. "We don't have time, as you said. Besides, you promised to call Sam this morning and I don't want you to get distracted." Peter draped the towel he was using to dry his hair and placed it around his shoulders.

"Tease. I already called Sam and I'm meeting him for lunch at the corner deli." Michael said as he swatted Peter on the butt.

"Thank you. I wish I could come, but I have that important meeting this afternoon and my boss was already questioning me about my performance a few days ago."

Michael raised his eyebrow. "You didn't say anything."

"I assured him it was personal and I was just dealing with a friend in crisis. Little did I know how much of a crisis.  He knows John and I don't want him to think badly of him, especially in light of everything that has happened." Peter went back in the bathroom to hang up both towels and walked toward the bedroom to get dressed. He stopped midway, turning to look at Michael.

"Shit, Darren! Should I call Darren and tell him what happened? I mean I can't tell him that John lost it when he went for an interview at another company. But he was there for work and I'm sure Darren will want to hear how the pitch went with the company. What should I do?"

Michael went up to his partner and hugged him tightly, and then kissed his neck and mouth lightly.

"You won't tell him anything. It's not yours to tell. John is sick and will most likely need some time off to take care of things. He needs to tell Darren. I know you want to protect John, but this time you really can't. We don't know all the answers. For now, you go to work and do your job."

"But what about his sister? Should I tell her? I know she's worried when she doesn't hear from him. Remember last time he went to Pittsburgh and she didn't know where he was; she called all over town."

"Same answer, dear. I know he's your friend and you're a great friend to worry about him. We need to know more. We'll visit him tomorrow, talk to him and the doctors, and then we can make a better decision. You said that he was supposed to be gone until the end of the week. While Darren probably will wonder how the pitch went, he knows that sometimes the companies don't make up their minds right away. As for his sister, she isn't expecting him in the city until the weekend, so she won't be calling him."

"Smart. I guess I better get some clothes on." He pulled away from the embrace. "I love you."

"We'll figure this out." Michael assured him as he watched Peter disappear into the bedroom.

After finishing his coffee, he grabbed his briefcase and took the bus to his office where he reviewed his appointments for the next few days. He hated cancelling appointments, but it wasn't ethical to meet with clients when his mind was elsewhere and unlike other professions he couldn't get anyone to cover his cases in his absence. Looking around his office, he looked at his diplomas from NYU, seeing the bold black lettering on the white parchment announcing to the world that he had passed the strict credentialing necessary to be a therapist, but right now he felt extremely inadequate. He wondered what he was going to do.

He updated his billing and read some professional journals to fill up his morning.  He took the elevator down to the street level and walked out into the crisp autumn air. The exhaust from the multitude of cars and the cacophony that only a New Yorker can appreciate, surrounded him as he made his way to the designated corner deli. The door jingled as he opened it and he made his way to an empty table as he waited for Sam. A few jingles later he spotted Sam, waving him over to his table.

"The usual?" Sam asked.

"Sure," Michael said as he watched the young couple in the next table as they laughed at some unknown joke.

Sam was back at the small wooden table in just a few minutes. He sensed Michael could benefit from a beer and brought them each a Sam Adams beer on tap. Sitting down, Sam looked at his long-time friend, seeing the worry creases on his normally smooth face. Taking a drink from his beer, he waited for Michael to share why he'd been summoned.

"I appreciate you coming on such short notice." Sam watched Michael swallow hard and he smiled at him, encouraging him to continue. "Well uh...I ... I need your help. Peter has this friend, John. John got himself into a little trouble with the law and they sent him for evaluation." Michael took a drink from his beer, then swirled the bottle on the table, playing in the condensation left there by the bottle. "He kind of went off the deep end, thinks he's in a relationship with some artist. They, the artist and his partner, got a restraining order and when he showed up at the partner's firm, hugging the artist and declaring his love for him, they called the police." Michael looked at his friend, hoping he got the gist of the situation without any further explanation.

Sam bit into his sandwich, nodding his head as he gleaned a clearer picture of the situation. The lunch time crowd had begun to thin, most of the tables were empty. Glancing at the busboy cleaning the table next to them, he waited until he took the last of the dishes away before speaking.

"Does your friend have a history of problems?"

"No. Peter's known him for years and there was never any indication of a problem."

"Has he been under a lot of stress lately? Broken up with anyone? Anyone die or is sick?"

"Now I know what my patients feel like." Michael grinned as he responded. He took a bite of his sandwich, feeling hungry for the first time since he sat down. Hoping that Sam would offer to help, he'd met his friend and colleague eagerly, but he knew there was a chance that Sam would decline and if he did, Michael would have to think of a different solution.

"I've known John for several years. Peter and I have been together for about three years, well five if you count the time we dated and didn't live together." A dish clanged into a pail and the noise was heard all over the small deli. Michael turned his head to find the location of the sound, but then turned his head back to Sam. "He's had several hook ups; some lasting as long as six months, but nothing ever permanent. I'm really thrown for a loop here. Professionally, he doesn't really meet the criterion. I mean he's almost 30 and that is a little old to have your first psychotic break."

Sam finished his sandwich and threw his napkin in the plate. He'd cleared his afternoon to meet with Michael; the impression he'd gotten from their short conversation was their lunch meeting was anything but a ‘guy's lunch'. Unfortunately he was correct. Excusing himself, he went to the line and ordered another beer for himself and returned to the table.

"What can you tell me about him? The more I know before I go in, the better I'll be prepared. You do realize that I don't have a license to practice in Pittsburgh. I'm not even sure the police will let me see him, but I can talk to the doctors in charge, professional courtesy does go a long way sometimes."

After finishing his sandwich and beer, Michael took the plates and empty glasses and placed them on the adjacent table. He went to the counter and ordered a second beer as well. Pausing to take a few draws before he continued, he thought about his relationship with John before he answered.

"John has one sister and appears to be pretty close to her. She's a great woman, well as far as her relationship with John is concerned. They talk pretty often. There appears to be a family connection, they were having a party for their Dad's birthday a few weeks back and his sister was coordinating the event. That was our first clue that something was off with John. She was trying to talk to him about the party and couldn't find him. She called Peter to see if he knew John's whereabouts. She knows he's gay and has met several of his partners through the years. She's gone out with us a few times- the four of us have hit the pizza place over in Soho. She's never given any indication that she has a problem with his sexuality and from the conversations about his dad, it appears that he's okay with it as well. So I think the gay thing isn't an issue." Michael was glad that it was Sam who was interviewing him rather than an unknown professional. He understood where the questions were coming from and realized he would most likely have asked the same ones.

"I feel like a witness in a crime drama." Michael said as he frowned at the analogy.

"On tv it always seems so obvious, cut and dry. The guy is guilty; they catch him and he goes to jail. End of story." Michael thought about the many tv shows they'd watched and it struck him how far from reality they really were. "And to think people watch those for entertainment."

"True life is often not so entertaining," Sam said as he watched his friend struggle with the situation.

"We watch 'cop shows' a lot. It always makes me feel good that they catch the bad guy. But I guess that is tv, not reality. Still, all of a sudden, I'm not nearly as enamored with them." The little deli was almost deserted at this point in the day. A tv hung in the corner and a rerun of CSI New York was playing in the background. Michael looked up and frowned at the irony.

"You can't blame yourself for not recognizing John's situation. He's smart. From everything you've told me, he's employed, successful and he has a good relationship with his family. There were no red flags," Sam said as he reached his hand across the table and touched Michael. "Unfortunately, not every stalker is a text book case and it appears that John is one of the unusual ones. No one really knows what triggers episodes and I doubt we, as professionals will ever truly understand. The important thing is he is in protective custody right now. We need to go see him, talk to him and talk to his doctors. Hopefully we can intervene and at least take him back to New York."

"So you'll go? I mean... I was hoping....Do you think they will let you take him across state lines? I mean..."

"Yes, I'll go. Michael, you're a great friend and a colleague, either one would be enough for me to do this. I'll have to clear my schedule, but luckily I was planning on attending a two day seminar on working with returning Vets, but if I call, I can probably move it to a different session next month.  We should get this sorted out by then."   He placed a call to his assistant, explaining the situation and put away his phone.

"I know they have a restraining order against him, and he was taken from the scene. I highly doubt he could be charged with anything other than disobeying a restraining order, although some fancy lawyer might argue that it was third degree assault since he was hugging the guy. Even that would not be a felony, so again, he probably would go free, and told to report to court. Probably be told to stay away from the artist." Sam said as he clarified the information Michael had provided.

"Yeah. Sounds about right. But then the real work begins. We have to convince John that the artist isn't his boyfriend. That may take some doing, with all the elaborate tales he's made up."

"True. But we have no way of knowing without talking to him. We can speculate all day, but never have any answers until we talk to John." Sam said, reminding Michael of the obvious. "I know as his friend, you're just trying to make sense of the situation and talking about it makes you feel better."

"I knew you were a great therapist." Michael said, the teasing obvious.

"I've got to get a few things from home and I'll call a friend I have in the police department. Maybe he can shed some legal light on the issue. Why don't you pick me up in the morning? They won't release him any time soon.  We've got three days."

"Great. I'll tell Peter. Hopefully, he can join us. I know he's anxious to help."

"Be careful, Michael. I'm not sure how much Peter understands about mental illness, but he needs to understand that telling his friend to get over 'the artist' isn't going to be helpful."

"I know. We'll talk tonight. He's smart. He'll understand. See you early in the morning. Thanks again, Sam." Michael stood up and so did Sam. The two men hugged and left a few dollars for a tip for the busboy. Each man walked out to get ready for their trip.

TBC

Brian and Justin arrived at the museum shortly after it opened for the day.  Since it was late fall, the tourists had gone and the hordes of school children taking one of the ‘requisite' field trips were not in evidence.  The Dali museum in St. Petersburg was exhibiting Warhol's work and the Warhol museum had a reciprocal agreement to display some of Dali's pieces.  The patrons of both museums were able to enjoy the juxtaposition of both artist's muse.  Justin was a huge Warhol fan, despite their paintings being different; Justin mostly painting abstracts. He'd talked to Brian about the two artists on several occasions and Brian thought this was an excellent time to see the exhibit.  Both of them needed a break from all the chaos of their lives.  Brian had given Justin a membership to the Carnegie Mellon museums, knowing they offered enough diversity to spark his creative juices as well a chance to spend time with some of the best work in the city. It truly was a gift from the heart. 

Justin's mood seemed to elevate the closer they got to the museum.  He was excited about seeing the exhibit, although he did worry about Brian taking off work for the day when there were pressing matters at Kinnetik.  Since Justin had studied art history in school, he didn't feel the need to rent an audio tour of the exhibit.  He could probably have given the tour at some art museums, but he declined to lecture Brian when they toured unless Brian specifically inquired about a piece.  Justin usually studied information about the exhibit and its pieces prior to attending so he could increase his appreciation of the art work.  He'd only done some preliminary review of the Dali exhibit, but remembered the artist had a very strong style, one that mutated everyday objects, like the infamous dripping clock.  

Entering the exhibit, Justin was drawn to several of the larger installations, especially the market area where the famous Campbell soup cans and Brillo pieces were displayed. He walked about the display and tried to imagine the artist painting.  Did he paint all day and get lost in his muse?  Was he always so fascinated with death and macabre in his life that his pictures depict such strange visions?  Why are his pictures so layered?  Justin usually painted abstracts but there were frequently shapes in his pieces, often of Brian or the two of them, but not always recognizable by someone unfamiliar with the artist.

Brian's interest in art varied; he knew what he liked and what he didn't like, and he liked Justin's work.  Even before they became a couple, he thought the young man was talented and he was pleased to see he had not been wrong.  Dali's work was a little much for his taste, but he'd come today not to enjoy the exhibit, but to get Justin interested in something else besides their many current trials and tribulations. Apparently his idea worked as Justin was mesmerized as he walked around the exhibit, taking it in from all viewpoints. Today, the only thing he was interested in seeing was his partner's happiness. Justin moved on to other exhibits in the museum, stopping at several to admire the pieces from different angles.  They'd been there for several hours when Brian heard the all too familiar growl from Justin's stomach.

"The beast calls," he said, a gentle tease in his voice.

"I guess I am hungry.  I'm sure you're ready to leave."

"There is a café here.  We can eat and then you can view the remainder of the museum." Brian pointed toward the bottom of the building where he'd seen a café when they entered the building.  "We don't have anywhere we have to be."

"Are you sure?  I know this is boring for you.  You can leave and I'll catch the bus home," Justin said as his stomach chose that moment to let him know it needed fuel.

Brian did not answer, but walked toward the beautiful staircase, descending down its winding stairs.  Justin followed, understanding the lack of response meaning there was no discussion on the matter. 

"Thank you," Justin said.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" Brian asked, ignoring the statement.

"Yes. Dali's work is fascinating, but sometimes I feel like the spectator watching someone tripping.  I can't imagine what type of drugs he must have taken and for how long to produce some of those paintings."  Justin walked up to the counter and looked at the food listings on the wall.  After ordering, he went to the condiment area, grabbed some napkins and a fork and then found an empty table toward the back. 

As he waited for Brian to join him he placed the items on the table, setting it for two.  Even here, his country club manners kicked in.  Brian sat down opposite him as he looked around at the café, noticing the stark contrast of dark colored walls with shiny white tables.  The café was definitely meant to continue the Warhol feel, even though there were no pieces of work from the collection adorning the wall.  Their food was brought to the table by a young woman who smiled at them.

"You've never painted when you were high?" Brian asked, somewhat surprised at the admission.  "I love it when we take E together; you're very playful and...." He raised his eyebrow up slightly and smirked indicating what the ‘and' meant.

Justin laughed.  "I can't believe you won't say horny.  Brian Kinney being discrete is a first."

Brian loved that he made Justin laughed.  He considered his outing today a success; it had been too long since he'd heard that sound from his partner.

"We are in public and not at Woody's or Babylon.  I do know how to be discrete." Brian took a bite of his sandwich, tasting the whole-wheat bread, deciding it was probably freshly baked.  "So back to my original statement or question.  Why haven't you painted when you're high?"

Justin finished the bite of his burger, still eating like he was a teenager and 17, before answering.  "That's an easy one to answer.  I paint when my muse strikes.  Sometimes it's 3:00 in the morning.  You know you've woken up more times than you can count and I'm in my studio painting.  But when I'm high, I can't get lost in my muse."

"Have you ever tried?  I mean I think it would be a great piece.  You should try it."

"I don't know. I kind of like to know what I'm painting and sometimes my brain is a little fuzzy after taking E.  Besides, I don't always start and finish a piece at one sitting and I think it would be disconcerting to start a piece when I'm all fucked up and then come back to it when I wasn't."

Brian didn't push Justin; he was just glad that Justin was even talking about his work and the process.  They'd talked about Justin's art more today than Justin had in several weeks.  He was often waxing about some piece or idea and Brian realized he'd missed the on-going chatter.

They finished their lunch and returned to the museum where they spent another few hours viewing the art.  Justin stopped in the gift shop on the way out.

"I want to get something for Gus.  He always likes to paint with me in the studio.  I thought buying a set of his own brushes would make him happy."

Brian wanted to whoop at the top of his lungs at Justin's statement, but instead walked over to the kid section pretending to look at the art supplies.  He picked up several art kits designed for children and passed them to Justin who gently shook his head at each suggestion.  Justin picked up a set of five brushes, turning them over to see what price was listed. The brushes were $30, he set them down.

"Are they good brushes?" Brian asked.

"Seem like it.  Just expensive."

"All relative.  Gus will tell everyone that you bought them for him from the Warhol museum.  He will take care of those way better than he does most of his toys.  He loves painting with you.  He should have quality brushes just like you do and you shouldn't have to share with him."

Brian's voice brooked no argument and Justin picked up the packet again.  He saw a beautiful scarf that he knew his mother would enjoy and he brought both items to the counter.  Before he could reach for his wallet, Brian had his Black American Express out and the woman behind the counter was running the card. Brian handed Justin the bag and they walked out of the shop.

"Gus will love his brushes. You didn't have to pay for them."

"He will love them and your mom will like the scarf," Brian said as he opened the door leading outside. 

"Thank you. Do you think we could give them to him this afternoon?  I can't wait to see his face."

"Of course.  The munchers never get upset if you drop by," Brian's voice hinted at the irritation he sometimes felt when he visited his son, but he refrained from pushing his agenda today.  "You do realize if you give him the brushes, he will want to come over right away and use them."

"I was hoping that would be his response.  I have some ideas for a new piece."  Justin smiled at Brian, never discussing his difficulties of the last few weeks.

"Gonna share the idea?"

"Not yet.  I need to get it on paper first."

"Gus should be home by now.  We'll surprise them.  I know it's been a while since we saw him," Brian said, as he smiled inwardly at the change in Justin.  He inwardly congratulated himself for his idea of taking Justin to the museum.  It appeared just what he needed to get back on track with his painting. 

They walked to the car and Justin laid his purchases on the back seat. 

"Warhol was such a great artist.  He even was recognized during his lifetime.  That's an amazing feat," Justin remarked as they were driving out of the lot. "Sometimes when I go to a museum, I feel overwhelmed, like I'll never be as good as the artist whose work is displayed.  But today, ....  It's different."

"Different?"

"Yeah. Today, I just want to go home and create.  I don't really care if any of my work ever sells or gets hung in a museum somewhere.  Although that would be cool.  I realize my art is for me first.  I have to create like I have to eat and breathe.  If I can't create, I lose a part of myself."

"So painting is you?"

"Right.  I always knew I liked to draw and when I got older PIFA was my dream.  Now I understand that my dream is really to create, to put on canvas what I feel." Justin felt a sense of release he hadn't ever put into words.

"You're following your dream. And your dream makes you money."

"I hope it means that but if it doesn't,...I guess I have to find a job to support myself.  Brian, most artists sell a few paintings and have a small following.  I got lucky when I found Carol.  She's done wonders for me, getting my work shown, getting shows for me, but ultimately my art is for me.  If I'm not happy with the pieces I create, why do it?"

"All this from a Warhol exhibit?  How did you come to this conclusion?" Brian was very interested in this new line of thought and wanted to keep Justin talking.  He knew a few well-placed responses could often get his partner talking for hours.  He recognized the enthusiasm in Justin's voice, happy he appeared interested again in his art.

"Watching the people.  I loved the art work, but the art was only a piece of the museum.  I stopped at each piece, tried to figure out what Warhol was thinking when he created it, tried to get in his mind and I realized that I'm not Warhol.  I have no idea what his inspiration was for any given piece.  I also came to realize that all those people in the museum were affected differently by each piece they viewed.  We all come to the table with a different set of experiences; therefore our interpretation of art is different. An artist creates because he has no other choice.  If people like his work and he can make a living from it, icing on the cake."

"Justin."  Brian paused, not wanting to push Justin's change of heart, but needing to understand his partner.  "You'll keep painting because it's for you and if you sell something you'll be happy, but you're okay if you don't sell anything ever again."

"Yep."  Justin grinned.  "Tim Callen's article scared me.  I was afraid what others would think of me, but now I realize I will do what I need to do to support myself as long as I can keep myself in oils and canvas."

"So you're okay being a kept man?" Brian teased, knowing this discussion was a common joke between them.

"No.  I will not be your boy toy and I don't expect you to pay the bills.  If Tim's article has back lash.... Carol doesn't want to support my work, patrons won't buy the pieces, then I'll go to work doing something else...."  Justin's voice dropped a little at the end of his sentence and he added a little addendum. "I just hope you don't lose clients over my indiscretions.  You shouldn't have to pay to support me."

Brian heard the regret in Justin's voice again.  Angry he had not pushed himself to investigate Justin's lack of painting and his willingness to ignore the lack of progress in Justin's career, he promised himself he would pay more attention to Justin's mental state.  They appeared to have passed one hurdle, Justin's painting and creativity crisis, but they still had to deal with the stalker, John Scott. Justin had control over his painting but he did not have any control over the stalker. 

"My clients can screw themselves if they choose to leave over a little exotic dancing.  I'm a gay man.  I don't hide my sexuality and I don't hide my life.  If people are going to take their business somewhere else because my partner supported himself with a little dancing, I don't want their business.  Do you have any idea how many straight guys cheat on their wives or better yet, cheat with other guys and their wives don't even know they're in the closet?  There are millions of crooked politicians, cheating spouses, and slime balls out there who will do anything to earn a dollar, even if that dollar is the hard earned money of a retired old lady.  You earned your money in a very legitimate way, not by screwing anyone- literally or figuratively." Brian finished his version of a public service announcement as they were driving up to the muncher's house.  "Let's give Gus his brushes and set a time for him to come paint with the next Warhol."

Ringing the doorbell, the two men stood on the front stoop as they waited to be let in.  Mel came to the door, opening her mouth and raising her eyebrows in surprise at the men standing on her porch in the middle of the afternoon.

"Brian.  Justin.  What are you doing here?  Why aren't you at work?  It's the middle of the afternoon."

"We came to see my son.  Are you going to let us in or are we going to play twenty questions all day?"

Mel opened the door, waving them inside.

"Linds took him to the grocery with her. They should be home soon.  Why aren't you at work?" She sat down on the green sofa in the living room, leaning forward to hear the answer.  She heard the click of the door lock, turning her head to announce their presence to Gus and Linds.

"Mel... I picked up a paper while I was in the checkout at the store.  You'll never believe this.  I saw a blurb in the arts section about Justin; he used to strip when he was in New York.  Can you believe?  I can't imagine what he was thinking.  Didn't he think it...." Linds stopped as she walked into the living room with her bag of groceries.   "Oh."  Gus ran into the home and straight for Brian.

"Daddy.  Justin.  Did you come to play with me?  Can we play trucks?  Can we paint, Justin?  It's been a long time since we painted.  When can I spend the night with you again?  I love the car bed.  I pretend I'm a race car driver and I drive faster than all the cars.  Vroom. Vroom."  Gus held his hands as if he was driving a car.  Reaching out to Brian, he said, "Come on Daddy.  Let's play.  I got a new hot wheel today cuz Mama said I was good in the store."

"Gus, honey, why don't you go wash your hands and get a snack," Lindsay said as she tilted her head toward the kitchen. She placed the bag of groceries on the dining room table.  "There's a glass of milk on the table."

"Ok.  But Daddy you hurry up."

Justin felt the pit of his stomach fall out, his earlier happiness short lived. 

"Justin.  Did you..."

"The article is true.  Justin supported himself as a stripper for a company that provided entertainment for parties, usually birthdays, bachelorette, and retirement parties.  No different than working in a diner, just more lucrative,"  Brian said hoping his short explanation would end the discussion quickly.

"But..."

"I'm going to go give Gus his present," Justin joined Gus in the kitchen.

"I really don't have to explain anything to you, but I think it's important for you to understand the big picture. Justin danced to earn money so he could have more time to paint.  One of the parties he was hired for was for a birthday bash for the guy who was stalking him. The guy has pictures of Justin lap dancing since he was the guest of honor.  The guy later attended one of Justin's shows and Justin talked to him, inviting him to a gathering afterwards.  This isn't unusual, but the guy decided he was now Justin's partner.

He sent us a few pictures and made some veiled comments about being with him.  Mel and Carl suggested a restraining order and then in an effort to prevent further incidents, Tim wrote a news piece about Justin's history hoping it would deter any future problems."

"You knew about this?  Why didn't you tell me?" Linds looked accusingly at Mel.

"He was my client.  I couldn't."

"But I'm your wife. Surely..."

"No, Linds."

Lindsay swallowed and nodded her head.  "But a stripper?  Couldn't you have given him money instead? What is this going to do to his art?  I hope Carol doesn't drop him.  That would be terrible.  He's so talented.  Could this affect your business?  I'd hate to think Justin's past would ..."

"Fucking shut up.  I do not have to explain any of this shit to you,"  Brian said quietly, not wanting Gus or Justin to hear.  "We came over to give Gus some paint brushes so he can paint with Justin.  This whole situation has messed with his head.  He wasn't painting, but now he wants to paint with Gus.  I'll take anything I can get at this point.  Now, I'm going to go see my two favorite boys and play some cars."  Brian stood and walked to the kitchen.

The two women watched Brian walk away.  Lindsay sat down on the couch he recently vacated.

"Mel.  This is all so surreal.  I mean it's like a plot in a movie.  Famous painter has lurid past and the past catches up to him."  She flicked a piece of hair behind her ear.

"Linds, we all have pasts. Remember the playgirl?" Mel said, reminding her partner of her spread in a girly magazine she posed for while in college to pay her way when her family cut her off when she came out.  "Those are very public pictures and they could be very damaging to my career at this point.  I can't undo those pictures and without them I would not be here today.  Desperate times call for desperate measures.  We can't judge Justin for how he supported himself.  We weren't there.  I suggest you ignore Justin's past and support him now.  He needs all his family.  These next few months aren't going to be easy."

"Okay." She got up to grab the bag of groceries and took them into the kitchen. As she emptied the bag, she watched as the two men sat with Gus, talking to him softly.  "Justin, I'm sorry," she said, realizing this wasn't the time to pass judgment.  "It was just a surprise. When do you think Gus can come over and paint with you?"

The adrenaline coursing through Justin's blood seemed to slow down at her offer of Gus joining him to paint.  She accepted his past and if there was judgment on her part, she didn't let it stop his relationship with Gus. 

"In a few days.  Maybe the weekend.  We have some things to take care of."  Justin was purposely vague as he did not want Gus to know of the situation.

"Come on, Sonny boy.  Let's go play cars."

Gus got up from the table, placed his glass and plate in the sink and grabbed Brian's and Justin's hands as he towed them toward his play area.  "Bye mom."

"Have fun with Daddy and Justin."

Lindsay smiled as she watched Brian walk away with his son, pleased to know he was a part of Gus' life.  She did not regret that decision and realized they all made decisions in their lives.  Some were good and some not so good, but each decision led to a different path.  She liked the path she was on and hoped Justin's path would lead him to continued happiness.

TBC

Michael arrived home earlier than usual, since he did not have any appointments.  After fixing dinner, he brought up his suitcase from the small storage area each apartment owner was allotted.  Gathering clothing for a few days, he was saddened by the process.  Normally he loved to travel but he knew this trip would be anything but enjoyable.  As he heard the door to the apartment unlatch, he walked into the living area to greet Peter.

"You're home early," Peter said as he went to kiss his partner.

"I cancelled all my appointments for today. Didn't feel I could counsel anyone when my mind was elsewhere.  Most folks can get away with running on a half tank or with their mind preoccupied, but as a counselor I owe it to my clients to be at my best at all times.  They are paying me to listen and to help them work through their problems. If I'm worried about my own, I'm cheating everyone."

"I love that you care about your clients."  Peter walked toward the bedroom and unbuttoned his shirt, placing it in the hamper.  Grabbing a long sleeve gray Henley from the closet, he slipped it over his head and then exchanged his dress pants for a pair of sweats.  Sitting on the bed, he patted the area next to him, indicating Michael should sit.

"How'd it go?  Did Sam agree to help?"

"Yes.  He agreed.  We're leaving in the morning.  He's hoping that the doctor will provide information to us, but we won't know until we arrive."

"I thought doctors share information about their patients.  Isn't it in everyone's interest to do so?"

"Like I said, this is a little different.  When doctors share information, there is written consent from the patient or the family.  John doesn't even know we know where he is.  To complicate matters, he was sent there by the police.  This makes it a potential legal issue."

"Do you think John will listen, get that what he did was wrong?"

Michael reached for Peter's hands and held them gently in his own.  "It's not that simple.  Sam isn't going to go in there, tell John he's not in a relationship and John will say sure.  Things aren't that easy."

Peter sat on the bed lost in thought for a few moments, struggling with the many questions in his head.

"So what does happen?  I mean... I guess we can't wave a magic wand and say boo."

"The mind is a tricky thing, hon.  When you have an ear infection, the doc gives you a pill and 7-10 days later you're better.  We're still trying to understand the mind, figure out why some people get sick and others don't.  There are lots of people who experience horrible events and bounce back and others who experience minor trauma, who are so affected they can't function."

"But John hasn't experienced any trauma.  He's had a great life.  What happened?  I mean I know we talked to him a few nights ago and he seemed pretty convinced that the artist was his boyfriend, but what caused this?" Peter asked, trying to understand.

"I wish I knew.  Maybe I'll have a better answer after Sam has talked to him."

"And what happens after Sam talks to him?  I mean, do you leave him there?  Does he come home?  How do you fix this?"

Michael gave a big sigh, wishing his partner understood more about psychology.  "He will probably be given some medications, they will hopefully help him get rid of the delusions.  Most likely he will have some therapy and the therapy will help him too."

"Delusions.  That makes him sound like some crazy person.  John isn't crazy," Peter said, defending his friend.

"He is delusional, Peter.  What else would you call someone who makes an elaborate relationship out of a chance encounter?  John met the painter when he was dancing at his birthday.  It appears he understood this was an act, but some time recently, he lost connection with reality and decided the painter was his boyfriend.  Something snapped.  It's common for Mental Illness to first be diagnosed in the late teens to early 20's.  Its possible John had an earlier break but you might not know about it.  You've known him since high school, but did you guys go to college together?  Did you keep up with him during that time?"

Peter rubbed his hands over his face several times, trying to process the information.  Thinking back, he mentally mapped their time together.

"We went to different colleges and I do vaguely remember John took a semester off...  I think it was sophomore year... maybe junior year.  He said he had a sick relative that he was caring for.  Maybe it was him that was sick.  I could ask his sister."  Peter took out his phone and started scrolling down the numbers.

Michael put out his hand, covering the screen.  "No, don't.  We need to know what is going on.  You aren't treating him and neither am I but we are in a precarious position.  He probably doesn't know we have any inkling about what happened in Pittsburgh and we have to tread very carefully.   The John Sam hopefully sees tomorrow may not resemble the one you and I have known for years."

"What do you mean?  Mental Illness isn't going to change him into a monster.  I do at least know that much."

"No, you're right.  Mental Illness doesn't change people's appearances and most people don't even look sick.  What it does do is change the thought processes; their thoughts and rational abilities are changed.  Things that don't make any sense to the rest of the world make perfect sense to them."  Michael smiled at the idea that John had changed into a Frankenstein overnight.  "At least the medical community has made some headway in making the public realize that individuals with Mental Illness are not mutants and people to be feared. 

Of course, the media is also to blame for the extra fear people experienced.  Any time a shooting or other rampage occurred, the media is the first one who pushes the Mental Illness agenda. To top it off they are also the ones who report to the public regarding the person's medical status and whether they had been under the care of a physician or other medical personnel. 

The finger gets pointed many times when it was really the person's refusal to be treated.  Unless the person appeared to be a threat to himself or others, it is their right to refuse treatment.  To complicate matters, many people are very smart and able to hide their unstable minds.  A therapist can only work with the information that the person chooses to share.  A good therapist can often spot when the patient isn't telling the whole truth or only sharing a piece of the picture, but that doesn't give them a crystal ball to fill in the blanks.  When someone is very sick, like John, it is actually a little easier to spot the gaps in their story, but oftentimes the information the patient provides appears very plausible."  Michael stopped his little PSA when he realized that his first response would have been sufficient. 

"Sorry.  I get carried away when the public starts attacking my profession."  He looked down at the pale blue and brown geometric design of their comforter, zoning for a minute on the pattern.  He leaned in and gave Peter a kiss on the lips.  "Let's eat.  I'm sure you're hungry."

They got off the bed and went into the kitchen where they set the table and then dished out the food.

"I guess seeing John is out of the question?" Peter asked as he brought his plate to the table.

"I think you realize how complicated the situation is, dear.  He doesn't even know that you have any inkling of his arrest or subsequent ‘evaluation'.  You, showing up would result in more questions and explanations than either of us are ready to provide.  I know you are anxious to ‘fix' this but I hope you realize that won't happen."  Michael sat down at the table and took a sip of his water.  Reaching out to his partner, he took his hand and gently squeezed it.  "I would love to tell you that everything will be fine, but that may not happen any time soon, if ever.  John is a changed man.  Even if the medication works and the therapy is successful, he will still have to live with the knowledge of what he did.  Hopefully he didn't screw up work and Darren will hold his job."

Peter lay down his fork and opened his mouth to protest, but quickly closed it.  Rubbing his face with his hand, he sighed at the enormity of the situation.  "I hadn't even thought about Darren and his job.  I was so focused on getting him out of this situation.  Well, I did mention telling Darren, but that was really to....  Shit!!! I don't even know what I was thinking.  I'm beginning to question my own thought process.  I wanted to tell Darren so he wouldn't worry where John was.  I didn't even think about the ramifications of having an employee in the psych ward.  Hopefully the presentation John gave went well and the company signed on the dotted line.  Darren's a cool guy.  I'm sure he'll hold John's job.  He'll be back in no time." Satisfied with his own solution, Peter picked up his fork again and started eating the meatloaf Michael had prepared.

"We could talk all day, but neither of us really know what is going on in John's mind nor do we know how Darren will react.  As much as we want to put some closure or finality to the situation, we will just have to wait and see.  I wish I could give you all the answers you want, but unfortunately I can't.  Let's watch the BBC Sherlock Holmes' new episode.  It's gotten great reviews and I'm tired of having to skip all the spoilers."  Michael swallowed the last of his meatloaf and brought his plate to the dishwasher.

"You're right.  I want you to tell me everything will be just fine and I know that you can't do that.  I like knowing what is happening.  Will you call me as soon as you know something?  I understand it might be something as simple as John will be released on Tuesday, but at least something concrete."

"Sure."  They sat down on the couch and watched the episode, both trying really hard to concentrate on the action on the screen rather than the questions in their minds.

Sam and Michael arrived at the Western Pittsburgh Psychiatric facility before noon and were allowed on the grounds.  Parking their car in the visitor lot, they went into the tall high rise brown building.  Had they not known it was a Psychiatric hospital, they could have felt like they were entering a grand hotel.  Since it was a hospital specializing in Mental Health, it lacked the antiseptic smell that often accompanied many hospitals.  Still the pale green walls and the deep blue signs directing visitors to the appropriate hallway made Sam and Michael feel like they were in a hospital. 

"I called ahead yesterday and spoke to Dr. Farsi.  I explained who I was in relation to John and asked to speak to him and possibly to John.  He agreed to see me, but wouldn't commit to letting me talk to John until after our meeting," Sam said as he looked at the directory and located Dr. Farsi's office number. 

"I'm pleased to know he agreed to speak to you.  If I was in his shoes, I'm not sure what I would have said," Michael said as they turned down yet another short corridor.  "I swear this place is a maze.  I feel like I should get a piece of cheese when I reach Dr. Farsi's office."

Sam laughed.  "I think a lot of psych hospitals are designed like that.  Maybe it's to deter patients from trying to elope.  They can't leave if they can't find the door."

"I never thought about it that way, but I guess there could be a case for that.  Either way, I'd rather be anywhere else but here.  I had trouble sleeping last night, just trying to figure out exactly how today was going to go.  I feel like I owe Peter.... Give him some good news... tell him John is fine and it's all a big mistake, but I know that won't happen.  The police sent John here for a reason and I talked to him, he is not thinking right."   There was a sign designating the numbered suites, showing the visitor which direction to go to find their destination.  They walked to their left and the only sound was the fluorescent lights above their heads.  "I work with people with Mental Illness on a daily basis and often talk to their families trying to help them understand, but the reality of the situation really is hitting me now."

"There is a reason why doctors don't treat their own families.  It's a lot harder to step back and be neutral."

"It is.  Thank you again for doing this.  I know you had to rearrange your schedule to come here."

"You're welcome, but I have to think you would do the same for me."  They stopped in front of a door whose only designation was a number.  They weren't sure if they were supposed to knock or turn the knob. 

"Surely, there is some type of reception area and we wouldn't be walking in on a session," Michael said as he looked down the hallway, hoping to see another visitor who might be able to provide information.

"We walk in.  Dr. Farsi told me that this is his private office but his one for patients is in another wing."

"Oh.  No wonder I didn't see anyone walking around."

Turning the door knob, they walked into a small waiting area.  A sign read they should ring the bell and after locating the bell, they tapped it lightly one time.

About thirty seconds later a middle age man with a salt and pepper beard opened the inner door.  He was about Sam's height, 6" and appeared toned, no belly hanging over his pants.  He wore a pair of grey slacks and a blue button down shirt but did not wear a tie.  He walked toward his two visitors.

"Mr. Ohi, I presume?"  He asked as he stuck out his hand in greeting.

"Yes," Sam said and returned the hand shake.  "And this is Mr. Strong.  He is the friend of Mr. Scott that I spoke to you about.  Thank you for taking time to talk to us.  I'm sure this is somewhat unusual."

"Come into my office."  He opened the door wider and gestured toward a larger room.  The room was furnished with a large mahogany desk and an executive leather chair.  There was a credenza behind the desk filled with papers and files.  In front of the desk were two blue client chairs.

"I guess there is some universality among therapists and doctors.  I think I have the same chairs in my office," Sam remarked trying to make small talk.

All three men laughed at the comment.

"May I offer you something to drink?  Coffee? Water?"

Both men shook their head and sat down in the chairs.  Dr. Farsi sat in the leather chair and turned toward the two men. "Since the police sent you this way, I will acknowledge that Mr. Scott is here." Dr. Farsi poured himself a fresh cup of coffee from the pot sitting on the credenza.  He blew on the cup to cool the drink before taking a small sip.  

"This is a highly unusual situation.  Usually when someone is taken in for an evaluation, it is at the request of the police or immediate family who feels the person is out of control.  If the patient comes to the hospital voluntarily, an intake specialist interviews them and determines if they need admitting.  While the police did request the evaluation, it is rare that a third party like yourself becomes involved."  He took another sip of his coffee and then placed the white cup on a small ceramic saucer. "Of course, I'm not telling you anything you don't already know."  Both men shook their heads, acknowledging his statement.

"I can't share any information about Mr. Scott, but I would like to ask you some questions, help me understand him better.  We frequently interview families when a person is admitted; try to understand the dynamics of the family."

"Is he being admitted?  I thought he was just being held for observation," Sam asked. 

"I can't really answer that question, but talking with you may give us some insight. If he is held beyond 72 hours, then I will ask him if he would like visitors. We don't allow visitors during evaluation."

"Of course."  Michael wished that patient confidentiality wasn't such a sacred cornerstone of their profession.  Understanding the need to protect someone's privacy as well as providing a safe place for an individual to share their secrets and feelings was paramount to the patient/counselor relationship and allowed a higher level of trust and intimacy between them.  On the other hand, as a friend or family member of the patient, he could see how frustrating it would be not to be provided the information the patient shared. 

"While I would love to talk to Mr. Scott, my presence here would be difficult to explain. Would you allow Mr. Ohi to be part of the evaluation team?"

"I'm afraid that won't be possible.  Mr. Ohi doesn't have credentials to work in this area and since it is a police mandate, we cannot allow any bending of the rules."

Michael sighed and shook his head in understanding.  "Well, what kind of information can we assist you with?" Michael asked, hoping to maybe glean some information based on the questions that the doctor asked.

The doctor asked a number of questions about John.  He questioned Michael about John's family and his relationship with them.  He asked about his job, his friends, his hobbies and his relationships.  Unfortunately, there was nothing that provided Michael any information about John's state of mind. 

"I'm scheduled for a meeting in a few minutes and it takes a few minutes to get there in this maze of a building.  Thank you for your time and information.  A decision will be made tomorrow regarding Mr. Scott's mental competency.  I will be happy to discuss with you the next step at that time.  If he is released, he will be returned to the police and if he is kept here, then I would speak with him regarding a visit.  Either way, you will have more information by tomorrow."

Sam and Michael shook Dr. Farsi's hand. 

"Thank you for seeing us.  I appreciate you position.  I will expect your call in the morning."

"Of course.  It was a pleasure to meet you. It appears that Mr. Scott has some excellent friends."

The three men rode the elevator down to the first floor and Dr. Farsi walked toward the left corridor while they walked toward their car.

"I wish he could have told us more.  I understand why he couldn't.  If nothing else, I have a greater appreciation of my patient's families when they press me for information."  Michael pushed open the door leading to the parking lot.  "If it were you doing the evaluating, would you let him go?  I mean he hasn't made a threat towards Mr. Taylor, but professing your love for him is pretty creepy."

"This is such a hard case.  I don't think they can keep him here, especially if he doesn't admit to any plans to cause harm to Mr. Taylor's boyfriend or Mr. Taylor.  If they let him go, he will most likely be put on probation and have to check in with an officer. If the officer thought he had potential for following through on any dangerous acts involving Mr. Taylor or his partner, the courts could possibly mandate treatment.  Stalking someone is not an offense where the courts generally lock a person up; it's a misdemeanor.  If he came near Mr. Taylor again, they might arrest him.  There are so many ifs that I can't speculate."  Sam unlocked the car and turned on the ignition so they could put the heater on, getting rid of the chill. 

Acknowledging neither of them had any answers and discussing the situation would not result in any resolution, Michael said,   "let's not waste the remainder of the afternoon.  I hear the Incline is pretty interesting and we could visit it in a few hours."

Sam got the GPS out from under the passenger seat and plugged in the Incline as their destination.  They spent a few hours there as Michael predicted and retired to the hotel where they watched the Pittsburgh Penguins play the St. Louis Blues in hockey.

As the two men were eating breakfast in the morning, Sam's phone rang.  He didn't recognize the number but saw it was an out of area exchange.  Hoping it was Dr. Farsi or someone else involved with his visit to the area, he answered the phone.

"Hello.  This is Sam Ohi."

"....Yes.  Thank you.  We'll be there in a little while."

Michael put down his coffee cup and looked expectantly at Sam, hoping for good news.

"The hospital is releasing him."

Michael let out a sigh of relief.  "That's great."

"The police are charging him with a misdemeanor and he will have to check in with a probation officer.  The courts are agreeing to an officer in New York, even though that is out of the area.  They feel that having John come here to check in would be detrimental; they don't want to encourage any further visits to the area."

"Ok.  That's doable. We talked about that being a possibility.  Why the frown?"

 "Slow down. Have you thought about what you are going to say to John?  How are you going to explain your presence here in Pittsburgh, let alone at the police department?"

"We could tell him the truth."  Michael stood up to walk to the cashier with the check, anxious to get to the police station. "Oh what a tangled web we weave: When first we practise to deceive! Sir Walter Scott."   Michael quoted one of his favorite sayings.  "We'll figure it out."

Each man paid for their food and walked to the car.

"The truth is probably a good place to start.  Trouble is; will John accept/believe the truth?  His truth is different than everyone else's truth," Sam said as he typed in the address for the police station where they were holding John.                                                                                                                                             

TBC

Justin and Brian were enjoying a leisurely breakfast the next morning when their housekeeper brought in the paper, handing it to the men at the table.

"You know, I almost hate to read the paper.  The news is filled with stories of all the things wrong in our society.  War, murder, people cheating their communities with scams;  it makes you lose faith in humanity," Justin said as he opened the paper to grab the Art section.  "I think that is why I read about the arts, the creative and entertaining side of life."

"True.  And that is why I read the business section.  Money can solve many of life's problems," Brian said as he opened the business section to review the current stock market performance. 

"I wish that the world was a friendlier place.  When I paint I get lost in my art and don't think about all the shit that goes on.  I was so worried about Tim's article and it's barely a blip on the radar.  I'm sorry that I queened out so much."

"Sorry is bullshit.  Good to know that you've decided the world can live with your tawdry past," he said, tongue in cheek.  Brian folded the paper in half, lying it in on the table.  "I trust that you will be sharing your creative genius with the world and are no longer concerned that our financial future is at stake."

Justin looked down at the paper in front of him, a sheepish grin on his face.  He took a sip of his coffee before replying.

"Even the family's response was surprising.  Lindsay thought I was jeopardizing everything and Mikey thought the publicity would bring more sales.  It's interesting how each person's response is in direct relation to how it will affect them.  It appears that everyone views the world from the saying ‘it's all about me'." 

"And you're just now realizing this?  Where did I go wrong in my tutelage?"

"I'm still the best homosexual I can be; just a little softer around the edges than you.  I like people, but I think you tolerate them." Justin put the coffee cup down and looked inside to see it was almost empty.  He walked to the pot to refill his cup. 

"Touché." Brian raised his hand slightly above his neck, pointing his index finger as he twisted his arm.  "What are your plans for the day?"

"I thought I would do a little work in the studio.  I'm behind in my work.  Been a little preoccupied."  He opened a packet of sugar, pouring it in the cup and stirred the mixture with his spoon.  Justin recognized Brian's change of subject as his way of saying this conversation was over, even though Justin knew there was more to be said.  As Justin had realized through the years, the majority of their conversations were held over a period of time.  Brian required time to digest and respond to ideas.  It wasn't that he was slow, but rather methodical as well as disliking long conversations. 

"It's been 72 hours," Brian said, realizing he might have preferred the previous topic to the one they were now discussing.

"Do you think Carl will tell us what happened?  I mean, is the guy going...."

"As the victim, you have a right to know.  I'm sure they will lock him up for a long time."

Justin stood up, taking his plate to the sink and rinsing it before putting it in the dishwasher.  He opened the fridge to place the milk from breakfast back.  "But what if they let him go?  I mean I don't want to have to keep looking around every corner for some psycho that thinks he's my partner."

"I'm sure that won't happen.  Stop queening out," Brian said hoping to ease both his and Justin's fears.  He'd thought the same thing, but wasn't going to share his concerns with Justin.  Justin had finally accepted his exotic dancing wasn't the end of his career, but now this new problem had surfaced.  He wondered if their lives would ever be crisis free."

Brian's phone rang interrupting their discussion.

"Kinney," he said.

"... What?  ...Shit! ...Ok."  Brian responded to the caller, but didn't mouth anything to Justin during the conversation.

"What?" Justin asked after Brian left the phone on the table instead of returning it to his pocket.

"That was Carl. The psych hospital is releasing ‘the stalker'."

Justin's eyes opened wide in surprise.  "How can they...  I mean he ... Don't they..." Justin stood up, pacing the kitchen area.

Brian walked to Justin, putting his arms around him from the back and whispered in his ear.  "We'll figure this out.  It's okay."  He softly kissed his neck and repeated "It's okay." Brian wanted to calm his partner, but he was feeling anything but ‘okay'.

 "I vaguely remember you saying something about working in your studio today," he said when he felt Justin relax in his arms.

Justin fought a silent battle.  He'd told Brian he wanted to paint and get back to ‘normal' but he hated leaving the security those arms wrapped around him offered.  He couldn't ask Brian to spend the day with him to make him feel secure; it wasn't fair to Brian who had Kinnetik to run. Realistically he knew he could not spend the rest of his life with Brian literally at his side. 

"Somehow the desire has lost some of its appeal." Justin pulled away from the embrace, shrugging his shoulder slightly as he looked at Brian.

Brian raised his eyebrows in response, choosing body language over words.

"Going."  Justin walked toward the studio, but turned around after a few steps.  "Love you."

"Me too.  Now go.  You have a show in a few weeks and it just wouldn't do to have empty walls on display.  Carol would not be happy." It took every bit of Brian's willpower to walk away but he knew he had to do so. They both needed to get back to their normal routine and while he would have loved to reassure Justin by being with him all day, he knew that wasn't the right move. 

Ok." Justin said, wishing Brian could be there with him, especially today.  Justin entered his studio, looking at his unfinished works.

Brian turned toward his office, closing the door and sat in his office chair.  Scrolling through his phone, he hit the number for his office and Cynthia answered.

"Boss.  Are you coming in today or do Ted and I need to handle things?"

"The stalker is getting released. The asshole psychiatrist figures he's not a threat to Justin," Brian said, the anger evident in his acerbic voice.

Cynthia didn't take time to reflect on the news, but instead said, "We've got things covered here. Do what you need to do," reminding Brian yet again why he paid her an exorbitant salary. 

"I'm going to check emails and hope to do a little work on the Quickie wheelchair account."

"Ok.  Check in when you can.  Ted and I can hold down the fort.  Say hi to Justin."

Brian hung up the phone, relieved that he was free to deal with whatever legal shit needed to be handled.  His next call was to Melanie.

"Mel, they are not holding the psycho in the crazy ward.  Carl said they are releasing him.  What the fuck is wrong with the legal system?"

"Well hello, Brian.  How are you doing?"

"Cut the crap, Mel. Justin's safety is at stake.  I don't have time for hello."

"I'll see what I can find out.  Chances are if he's not being held in the psych ward, he will be in police custody.  They either have to charge him with a crime or release him. There are some safe guards there.  I'll call you back when I can find out something."

"Fine," Brian said as he hung up from that call too.

Sitting there for a few minutes, he contemplated his next step.  He wanted to protect Justin, but knew barricading him in their home and never allowing him to go anywhere unescorted would not sit well with his partner.  He thought about their discussion at breakfast and Justin's comments about the state of humanity.  He sometimes questioned people's ability to care for each other, but he knew Justin still believed society was a friendly place.  He guessed the cynic in him was skeptical when it came to believing in the ‘good' of his fellow man.  Regardless of his beliefs, he needed Justin to be safe and continue creating and sharing his vision with the world.  Brian wasn't sure how to manage the first half of the equation, but he was certain he could accomplish the second.  A quick phone call to Lindsay set the wheels in motion. 

He wanted to alert Justin to the change in plans and decided he needed to refresh his coffee.  This was going to be a long day and he needed all the energy he could garner. Walking out of his office, he passed through the kitchen and found Justin sitting at the kitchen table, twirling his coffee cup in his hands.

"I thought you said you were going to paint," Brian said as he sat at the table.

Justin's head was tilted down and he raised his eyes to look at Brian but did not raise his head. "I don't know.  I mean..."

"Justin, you can't put your life on hold just because some creep is not locked up in the psych ward.  Gus is coming over in a bit and you promised him he could use his new brushes.  You don't want to disappoint him, do you? " Brian poured his coffee and joined Justin at the table.

"Gus is coming?  I thought he wouldn't be here until the weekend."

"Things changed.  Lindsay said he wouldn't go to sleep last night until she promised to bring him over this morning," Brian said, the little white lie rolling off his tongue as if he believed Justin would by it.  He opened two packets of sugar and added some cream to the mixture until his coffee resembled chocolate milk. 

"I guess I could paint with him.  He's really good.  Well, for a 9 year old."  Justin appreciated Brian's ploy and he didn't call him on the white lie.  He'd been so thrilled to buy the brushes for Gus and he loved watching his creativity at work.  Even if he didn't paint, it would be a welcome distraction to his current situation.  Children's innocence had been a balm to many adults during difficult times through the ages and today was no different.  Walking to the sink, he rinsed his cup, placing it in the dishwasher.

"You going into the office?" he asked when he realized it was late for Brian to still be at the house.

"No.  I'm working from home today.  Cynthia and Ted are running the show.  I really should change the name to Kinnetik and Associates," he said tongue in cheek.

"I'm sorry.  You may not lose business as a result of Tim's article but ..."

"Stop, Justin. Life happens.  I'm the boss and can delegate work to my minions so I can be elsewhere.  If we were taking the morning off to spend fucking, you wouldn't complain."  Brian said offering a scenario Justin could imagine.  "Enough talking this morning.  I have work to do and you need to get ready for Gus.  Don't you have some little easels to put up so he can paint alongside the next Picasso?" Brian turned his hand sideways, waved his hand towards Justin, and signaled the end of the conversation.

Justin laughed at Brian's dismissal, knowing there had been a few opportunities where they had done just that; stayed in bed all morning.  True, it was usually after Brian had been gone on a business trip, but he hadn't objected when Brian went into the office later than usual so they could have a ‘fuck fest'.  Brian swatted Justin on his ass as he walked out of the kitchen.

"Keep that up and I'll never get the studio ready," Justin commented as he continued to walk toward the studio.

"Later.  We both have things to do.  Now shoo."  Brian grinned as he watched Justin leave, congratulating himself on his brilliant idea to have Gus come and paint with him today.

Brian went into his office and clicked on his email. Opening the first message with the intent to work.  He didn't even read it all the way through when he realized he hadn't called Daphne.  How could I be so stupid?  She's been such a help through this whole nightmare.

Dialing her phone, he got her voice mail.  "Those idiots aren't going to keep him locked up," he said and hung up.  He hoped she would call back quickly.

He scrolled through the phone again and hit another button.

"Artsy Shark. How may I direct your call?"

"I need to talk to Carol."

"May I ask who is calling?"

"Brian Kinney."

"I'll see if she is available."

The current noise that New York considered music played in his ear while he impatiently waited for Carol.  After this, I'm going to get her private line.  This is absolutely moronic.

"Brian.  So glad you called.  Tell me what's happening.  I've been thinking about Justin and hoping life has returned to normal for everyone."  She picked up her file on Justin and reviewed her notes, checking on delivery dates for art work. Frowning as she saw he had a deadline in just two weeks, she wondered if he'd been able to complete enough work for the upcoming exhibit.

"Not exactly.  The cretin was arrested and sent for a 72 hour hold, but they are releasing him this morning.  Some moron decided he was not a threat to Justin."

"How's Justin?"

"Worried.  I'd finally gotten him to accept the art world didn't care about his former profession in New York and then the crazy stalker shows up.  By the way, any kickback from Tim's article?"

"No issues from the article.  It's as I suspected.  The art world is a fickle bunch.  They all live in the moment, not yesterday's headlines.  Last week's news is exactly that - last week.  I had a few calls from some tabloids asking for pictures of Justin dancing.  Inquiring minds want to know...  It appears that Justin could make some money posing for photographs, he is easy on the eyes."

"No fucking way."

"I was pretty certain that would be your response and with everything going on, I wasn't going to ask Justin.  I'm an agent that represents artists, not models and I think Justin's talent should be shared with the public.  His body is not his talent."

Brian smiled at the statement. If you only knew Carol.  His body is definitely talented and he knows how to use that talent, but you're right, he's not sharing that talent with anyone but me.

"Exactly."

"They released the man.  What happens now?  How is Justin handling it?"

"Released is relative. They didn't keep him in the psych ward, but he's now in police custody.  I don't know if he will be charged with any crime, but I hope he will.  People like him don't need to be running around the streets.  I good friend of ours is in the police force and another friend is a lawyer.  They are going to call me with updates; hopefully soon.  It was easier to deal with when we knew he was locked up.  As for Justin, he was doing okay until we found out the guy wasn't going to stay in the loony bin." Brian didn't feel the need to elaborate since Carol knew Justin pretty well.  She was his agent, but also his friend. 

"I hate to say anything, but he's got a show in about a month.  It's small, thankfully.  Never thought I would be thankful for a small show, but at least he doesn't need a lot of pieces for it."

"How many does he need?  Not that I can make him paint, but I can at least find that out for you."

Carol picked up the paperwork again and perused the contract.  "10, but 8 will be sufficient.  If he doesn't have that many, let me know.  I can always talk to the gallery.  They were excited about getting his work and would probably be willing to work with less."

"He'll be painting some today.  I'll call you in a few days when we know more."

"Brian.  I like Justin, not just as a client.  His talent is amazing, especially for someone so young.  I know he was worried about the fallout from Tim's article and now there is this business with the stalker, but he is someone who is unable to stop painting.  In the end, he will come out okay."

"I've got to go, Carol.  Thanks for the information on Tim's article and I'll get back to you with some numbers in a few days."

"Thanks for the call, Brian."  She hung up the phone and placed it in the cradle.  She didn't want to lose Justin's momentum, especially after the article.  The article actually had been a boon for his work.  Several galleries had contacted her after seeing the article.  Apparently the few pieces she had showcased in his online portfolio had garnered interest and resulted in several requests for his work.  She didn't want to share that information with Brian, feeling Justin needed to be told first.  However, she realized Justin might not be pleased with the results.  He was embarrassed by his dancing and feared the backlash, even if the results were positive. She had told the galleries she would be discussing the potential opportunities with Justin.  She was thankful the art world moved slowly, needing time to promote special exhibits and allowing time for the artists to create new works.  Hopefully this lengthy process would allow Justin time to paint.

Brian started to read the opened email when his phone rang again.

"Kinney."

"It's a good thing you have a secretary who answers your phone at Kinnetik; otherwise I don't see how you would ever stay in business," Daphne teased when she returned Brian's call.

"They released the fucker."

"I gathered that from your message.  Why don't you elaborate?" Daphne purposely kept the conversation on the light side, hoping to bring down the obvious tension Brian was experiencing.  She sat in her soft leather chair in her office; the light blue walls offering a calming effect on her troubled clientele.  Unfortunately, they were not particularly helpful to her in this situation.

"Carl called and told me the morons at the psych ward didn't keep the creep.  He's in police custody now."  Brian shut down his email, realizing he would not get much done in the near future.

"I could call Mr. Strong and see if he talked to the doctor or the stalker," Daphne offered, hoping this would placate Brian.  She understood Brian's need for some type of action, even if the action did not result in a definitive resolution.

"That's a start.  I've got a call into Mel, and Carl said he'd call when he knows something.  When someone breaks the law, it is public information...  at least you can give the legal system that. They are good for something. They sure as hell don't protect all their citizens, only the straight ones."

"How's Justin?" Daphne chose not to respond to Brian's jab at the legal system. They both agreed it had failed Justin.  Through her conversations with Justin, she gathered it had also failed to protect Brian as a child.  The therapist in her recognized the anger, but this was not the time to address that issue.

"Lost... freaking out...anxious.  Did you expect a different answer?" Brian played with the pen on his desk.  He wished he still smoked.  He could use a cigarette at the moment, but Justin had PSA'ed him so much on that issue, he'd quit smoking just to shut him up.  They still smoked an occasional joint, so all was not lost.  Maybe I'll delve into my stash since I'm not getting anything else done.  That would make me oblivious or at least make me care less about all this shit.  No-  Gus is coming and I won't do that in front of him.

"No.  Should I come over?  I can rearrange some things."

"Maybe tonight.  Linds is bringing Gus to paint with him this afternoon.  That may be the best therapy available." He smiled at the thought of Gus visiting and was glad Lindsay didn't make a stink about the request, especially after her half queen out over Justin's dancing in New York.  Why do I surround myself with a bunch of drama queens?

"Good.  He loves painting with Gus and Gus can distract him without being obvious.  Kids are good for that.  They live in their own little world."

"True, and he loves Justin.  They have a very special bond.  It's different than the two of us."

"You're his father. Justin is Justin." Opening her mini fridge she took out a yogurt and opened the carton, realizing she hadn't eaten yet this morning and her stomach was rivaling Justin's.

"Yeah, but Justin is just as much his father as I am.  He probably spends more time with him, especially since he loves to paint with him and that can take hours."

"Brian Kinney. I swear one day you will accept that you are an excellent father and stop berating your skills in that department. I've known you for over a decade and there are only two places you don't underestimate your skills:  the bedroom and the boardroom.  We are not discussing your desire for self -deprecation today; we are discussing my best friend."  Daphne smiled at her verbiage, seldom getting an opportunity to use it on Brian.  Regardless of Brian's dismissal of her offer, she opened her appointment calendar on her computer and reviewed her day's appointments.  Coming over today would be difficult, but tonight and tomorrow morning would be very easily arranged. 

"I'm wounded, Ms. Chanders.  You only listed the bedroom for sex.  I'll have you know I'm just as wonderful...."

"I love your wit, Brian. Use some of it on Justin.  I'm sure he could use a little levity right now," Daphne said as she smiled realizing she got Brian's ire at her comment. 

"I'll call when I know more.  In the meantime, why don't you call that therapist guy, friend of the creep?  He should know something."

"I was planning on it, but I can't do anything if I'm talking to you."

"Good.  We'll talk later."

Daphne's first appointment was due in 10 minutes and she didn't think she'd have time to talk to Mr. Strong before her appointment showed up.  She opened the client file and reread her notes from their last meeting, preparing for the session.

TBC

Michael and Sam drove to the precinct where John was held.  Sam had called a friend of a friend for legal counsel and he was meeting them there.

"You know a lot of people," Michael said as they maneuvered around a stopped truck. 

"Yeah.  We met through school, but I have lots of contacts through work.  My associate's sister-in-law's brother is an attorney and he had a buddy who is an attorney in Pittsburgh.  Evidently the guy moved back to the area since this is where his wife's family lives," Sam said explaining the connection.

"I don't even want to try to plot that relationship.  Guess 7 degrees of separation really is true."

"I guess.  Anyway, guy's name is Alan and he said he'd meet us there." They stopped at a red light but neither of them was aware of the heavy traffic in the area, both men eager to get to their destination.

"Do you know his background?" Michael asked trying to calm his jittery nerves.  He had agreed to help his partner, Peter by going to see John.  He hadn't really thought about the reality of getting someone out of jail.  Well, he had thought about it, but going to a police precinct was a thing he saw on tv, not something he did in real life.

"Friend of a friend.  Remember?" Sam joked a little, trying to lighten the tense mood.

"Okay.  You're better than me as I know no one.  I'm lucky to have you as a resource."

"I don't think luck is really important in this situation, more like knowing the law."

"True. Did you get a chance to talk to the lawyer about the situation?"

"A little.  He said the case should be pretty easy, but I'm not as worried about the legal issues as I am about the psychological issues.  Remember, your friend John has no idea we know he's in jail, and then there's the little problem of him stalking some artist who he thinks is his boyfriend.

"Any thoughts on that front?  I know we talked about telling him the truth, but it seems really out there.  I can't even begin to picture the conversation in my head." Michael looked at Sam, hoping he had some epiphany overnight.

"I've done some thinking on that since our meeting with Dr. Farsi yesterday.  It appears that John is not an imminent danger to himself or others but there are obviously some issues that need to be addressed.  Put yourself in his shoes, what would you do?" Sam watched the road where a car had pulled out in traffic and almost caused an accident.  "Jeez, I think I prefer New York where I can take public transportation almost everywhere.  True, I don't drive very often and that might have something to do with the dislike of the traffic, but I think driving is really over rated."

"I hate driving in New York, but I love taking a drive out past the city into the country side.  It's one of the things that Peter and I love to do, taking a Sunday drive."  Michael thought of their last drive to the country.  He thought he would much rather be there than here, but he brought his mind back to the present quickly.

"In answer to your question....I'd probably think the police were out to get me and I would turn toward my partner to clear up the misunderstanding."

"Okay that's a good answer, especially if you didn't think you'd done anything wrong."

"You think John will go to see the artist?"

"It's a possibility.  That is why we have to get to him before he does so."

"And then what?  I hadn't really thought about what we are going to do with John.  Shit!!! Have any ideas?"

"I told you before; the truth is always a good place to start.  While John is not trying to lie, he is living a life of lies."

"I guess the first thing we need to do is get the legal stuff taken care of. "

"Right.  The lawyer's name is Alan and he's supposed to meet us at the front of the building at 10:00."

"I think the building is in the next block-  at least according to the GPS."  Michael looked at the screen on his phone and verified the names of the streets as they passed them. "I know I've said this before, but thank you so much for all your help.  I don't know what I would have done without you and your connections.  First you get us in to see Dr. Farsi and now you've found a lawyer for us.  That is amazing."

Sam nodded his head in thanks. "Okay.  Look around for a parking lot or someplace I can park.  We don't need to get any parking tickets, especially in front of the police station."

Michael snickered at that thought.  "True. That would be very awkward."  Michael looked around and spied a lot across the street.  "Over there.  Parking by the hour.  Hopefully 2-3 hours should be enough."  They obtained a ticket from the self-serve slot and walked toward the police station. 

"How are you supposed to recognize the lawyer?  I mean lots of folks are coming in and out of the station."

"He said he would have on a blue shirt and a red striped tie and would be waiting by the plant to the left of the door.  The blue shirt and red tie are pretty common, but hopefully not many people will be standing by the plant."

The men went in to the building, passing through security.  It struck Michael as ironic that even police departments had security gates and personnel.  They were supposed to be protecting the populace, yet they needed the same protection. Walking toward a man in a blue shirt and red tie, they nodded.

"Alan?" Sam asked.

"You must be Sam.  This is different, usually I meet my clients in the jail."  He held out a hand and shook Sam's hand and then reached for Michael's hand.

"Thank you for coming.  What did Carla tell you?"

"Actually, it was her husband Josh that called, but he said you had a friend who'd been arrested for stalking and then accosting the victim."

"Sounds about right.  We can share the details, but I think there may be a few unanswered questions."

Alan raised his eyebrows and looked at the men.  "Why don't you tell me more?"

"John, that is the guy who is in jail, went to Kinnetik and started hugging the owner's partner, stating that he was his partner.  Evidently, he'd sent them a few letters where he alluded to him being his partner.  Kinnetik's owner had a restraining order against John, even though he did not know about it.  My partner, Peter had spoken with Mr. Taylor's agent and told her about John's behavior and she had notified Mr. Taylor and his partner."

"Okay that is very confusing.  Why don't we go to the meeting room?  Sounds like I need a flow chart."

Alan led the two men down a long corridor filled with wooden door, each identified with a different number.  He stopped at the fifth one with a letter E on the door.  "I've reserved this room for the hour.  I thought I would talk to you first, based on Josh's message.  Now I'm glad I did."  He keyed in a code and the three men went inside.

Alan took out a slip of paper and a pen and gave it to Michael.  Michael drew a few boxes and circles showing how everyone was involved in the scenario and then gave it to Alan.

Alan picked it up, tracing the boxes with his fingers. He made some notations on the page.  "You and Peter are friends with John- the man in jail."

"Right and I'm friends with Sam who is friends with the people who know you."

"John, the accused is claiming Mr. Taylor is in a relationship with him." Alan was pleased he was interpreting the situation correctly.

"Right."

"After your partner, Peter, talked to Mr. Taylor's agent at his exhibit; she called him and shared her concerns.  About the same time Mr. Taylor and his partner received several packets of pictures of Mr. Taylor dancing.  After their discussion with Mr. Taylor's agent, they assumed the pictures and letters came from Mr. Scott.

"Right." Michael was pleased that Alan was following the story and didn't appear judgmental.  It wouldn't go well if the lawyer for John was biased for the victim.        

 "They started the proceedings for a restraining order based on the information provided by Mr. Taylor's agent." Alan looked at the paper again and reread his notes from the police report.  This information put events in a clearer perspective. 

"Not sure on that one.  We didn't know about the pictures until Mr. Taylor's friend, Ms. Chanders called us.  She told us about the pictures and the restraining order.  We knew about John telling us he was in a relationship with Mr. Taylor and that he, Mr. Taylor, had asked him to pose for a portrait."

"I can see where this gets complicated," Alan said.

"Then Mr. Scott applied for a position with Mr. Taylor's partner's company and when he went for his interview he sees Mr. Taylor and accosted him."

"That is what we were told by Ms Chanders.  We only knew for certain that John was telling us he had a new partner." As he listened to the recount of the arrest, he realized he needed his own score card to keep up with all the players.

Alan looked at the clock, checking the time.  He had been here for almost an hour and still had not talked to Mr. Scott.  Things were really backwards in this case.  Of course, he normally did not have these types of cases either.  Realizing he needed to wrap this meeting up, he completed his review of events.

"So the police were called and Mr. Scott was arrested. Do you know if the restraining order was completed?  Restraining orders are more complicated than television makes it seem.  The court has to be petitioned and information about the accused has to be documented.  The person filing has to show reasonable cause that they need protection."

"Mr. Taylor's friend, Ms. Chanders said they filed one.  She's a therapist and the one who alerted us to John's presence here.  I would think she would know."

"I'll have to do some investigating.  Either way, since this is a first offense it will be treated as a misdemeanor.  If he was served and came to visit Mr. Taylor it would be considered a first violation.  If he wasn't served, it is a simple assault."  Michael and Sam nod their heads in understanding.

 "You've already given us more information than we knew.  As counselors we understood about the psychological evaluation but the legal issues are really not our forte," Sam said as he watched Michael nodding his head as Alan spoke.  "Will he be put in jail?  Will he be able to leave the state?  We're hoping you can help us."

"The police arrested him based on his embrace of Mr. Taylor.  The evaluation was most likely to determine if he meant to cause harm to him.  Since they let him go, they most likely decided he was not going to hurt Mr. Taylor, but that doesn't mean he is off the hook."

"What do you mean?"

"Stalking is very hard to prove.  Since the pictures Mr. Taylor and his partner provided appear anonymous; it's conjecture whether Mr. Scott sent them or the two incidents are unrelated.  While your conversations with Mr. Taylor's agent and his friend the therapist gives you good reason to think he sent them, in a court of law there is reasonable doubt. The pictures have no return address, there was no demand for ransom or blackmail and Mr. Scott had no contact with Mr.Taylor until the day he went to Kinnetik."  

A knock on the door was heard and a voice called through it, "10 minutes".

"Thank you," Alan said as he looked at the two men.  Putting his papers back in his briefcase, he said, "They are charging him with a misdemeanor, first degree assault, but even that is pushing it as Mr. Scott's hug was not meant to hurt Mr. Taylor or cause him distress.   However, if Mr. Scott continues to have unwanted contact with Mr. Taylor, there would be legal consequences."

"That is great news," Michael says as he interprets Alan's explanation.

"From a legal stand point, he will be charged with a misdemeanor and he needs to understand that if he crosses Mr. Taylor's path again, there will be more severe penalties. A second offense is more serious, especially in this situation.  At that point, the courts could demonstrate that Mr. Scott knew about Mr. Taylor's feelings regarding his advances.  There would definitely be a restraining order in place, etc.  It could result in jail time."

"What does he need to do with a misdemeanor?  Does he have to check in with anyone?"

"No.  He will be charged and he will need to go to court.  There may be some jail time and possibly a fine - that is more to pay for the time of the judge and the legal documents.  The law requires everything be put in writing.  If he stays away, it's a blip on the legal radar.  The law is a funny thing.  People do some really weird stuff, sending unsolicited letters like your friend did is a little disconcerting to the recipient, but ringing people's doorbells and walking into their yards is even more so."  Alan opened his briefcase and took out some forms placing them on the table.

"I won't bore you with all the things lawyers and judges have incurred during the years, but suffice it to say that giving someone an unsolicited hug is minor compared to some of the things I've heard.  Your friend is lucky in that there was no return address on the envelopes and this was a first contact incident."

"Then why did the police arrest him?  I mean that is a stretch."

"Like I said, people do weird stuff.  Going up to a complete stranger and sprouting your love for them is not normal behavior.  The officer probably thought there was enough odd behavior to justify taking Mr. Scott into custody."

"Okay.  Do you really think they will put him in jail?  I mean he could lose his job and.... " Michael said, the worry evident in his voice.

"I'm not the judge.  There are a lot of factors determining that action."

"He'll need a lawyer if there's going to be a court appearance.  Will you work with him?   We'll make sure you are paid for your assistance." 

Yes, I'll represent him.  I need to talk to him and get more information about the charges.  I charge $500 for cases like this."

"Okay," Michael said, not even stopping to think where the money would come from.  He would find the money, if for no other reason than Peter asked him to help and he did not want to disappoint Peter.

"If you talk to him and then we come in, that might give us a good reason to be here," Michael smiled a little at the solution.  "Not ideal, but it gives us an in.  Does that work for you?  I mean, coming in after your initial conversation with him."

"Okay.  But from what you've told me it will be a little more difficult than just following in my footsteps."

"I know, but it's our best in at this point in time."

TBC

Alan walked back to the booking room and introduced himself to John.

"Hi, I'm Alan Crawford and I've been appointed your lawyer.  We need to talk about your situation."  Alan pointed to a room off to the side and John followed him.

The men sat across from each other in a small room painted with gray walls.  There was a small wooden table and four wooden chairs in the room and just like on tv, a large window that served as a one way mirror.  The room was not wired for sound so their conversation was private. 

"Do you know why you are here, Mr. Scott?"

"Somebody called the cops.  I was just giving my partner a hug since I hadn't seen him for a while."

"Who is your boyfriend?"

"Justin Taylor."

"How long have you two been together?"

"A few months."

"Where do you live, Mr. Scott?"

"I live on Delancy Street.

"Is that in Pittsburgh?  I'm not familiar with it."  Alan was trying to ask John some simple questions to determine what he thought of the current situation.

"No.  I live in New York,"

"But your boyfriend is here.  That must make it difficult." Alan tried to make John comfortable with his presence.

"It does.  That is why I was applying for a job here in town.  To be closer to him." John nodded in agreement, happy to see this man appeared to understand his situation.

"I see.  Do you know why the police sent you to talk to Dr. Farsi?"

"No."

"They wanted to be sure that you weren't going to hurt Mr. Taylor." Now that Alan had gained his trust, he needed to discuss the actual situation.

"I wouldn't hurt him.  He's my partner.  That is the silliest thing I've heard today.  I need to go talk to him, straighten this out.  Can I make an appointment with you to talk about these crazy charges in a few days?  I've got to talk to my boss, Darren.  I was here to make a presentation for work and I need to let him know the results."  John looked at the clock in the room, seeing it was almost 11:00.  He'd been kept in that hospital for three days and he knew Darren must be anxious to hear how the presentation went.  Since his interview with Kinnetik was cut short, he needed to keep Darren happy. 

Alan looked toward the window and tilted his head.  After talking to Mr. Scott, he wasn't sure why the doctors decided he was not unstable.  Based on the information Mr. Strong shared, Mr. Scott's reality was incorrect.  However, he realized the doctors were basing Mr. Scott's state of mind on his connection to time, place and real world events.  They would investigate if he knew where he was, why he was in Pittsburgh, who was president, the time of year and other common bits of information.  They really would have no way to judge if his statements regarding his relationship with Mr. Taylor were a figment of his imagination or actually real.  He knew there was no good way to introduce Mr. Strong and Mr. Ondi into the conversation and he hoped they would recognize his movement as an invitation to come into the room.

A few moments later the door to their meeting room was opened and Michael and Sam entered.  John looked toward the door when he heard it opening and frowned when he recognized Michael.

"Michael?  What are you doing here?  How did you get here?  Who is the guy with you?" John asked.  His voice got louder with each question.

Michael and Sam sat down on either side of Alan and appeared to have a silent conversation with each other before Michael spoke.

"Hi John.  I'm sure this is confusing to you, but it is confusing to us too."  Michael spoke in a soft soothing voice, trying to use his tone to de-escalate John's agitation.  "Do you know where you are?"

"The police station."

"Do you know why you are here?"

"The police arrested me for hugging Justin.  I really need to leave and go talk to Justin.  Can we talk about this later?" John pushed his chair back and started to stand.

"I think you should visit with us for a bit.  Please sit down, John," Michael stated is a firm voice but with an authority that John had never heard.

John sat back down.

"Where would you find Justin?"  The question seemed simple enough, but in reality Michael's question was meant to cause dissonance.

"At his house," John said quickly.

"Where does he live?"

"Pittsburgh.  That's why I'm here.  I was applying for a job so we could be together."

"What is the address?"

John thought for a few minutes trying to remember the address.  He'd been there once, but he couldn't remember.

"I don't know."

"Do you know what part of Pittsburgh he lives in?"

Again John searched his memory but it was like someone had erased important memories from it.

"Not really.  But I know he lives in a nice part of town," he said, hoping that would be good enough for Michael.

"Can you describe the house to me?"

John was starting to fidget in his chair. These questions were annoying, especially when he didn't know the answers.

"It's big."

"John, you don't remember the address or area where your boyfriend lives, but you planned on leaving here to find him.  How did you intend to talk to him if you don't know where he lives?"

Michael hated questioning Peter's friend and pushing the delusions to the forefront, but he really needed John to see that his statements had inconsistencies.  He hoped his questions would open up John's mind and he would question the relationship between himself and Mr. Taylor.

John tilted his head toward the table, eyes cast toward the worn wooden top.

"I'm sure Justin will be here to straighten everything out," John said as he realized his boyfriend wouldn't let him sit in jail.

"Do you know where you were before the police brought you here this morning?"

"Some hospital.  A bunch of doctors kept asking me what day it was and where I was from.  They asked me a lot of questions and I kept telling them the same answers.  It was really stupid."

Michael nodded, pleased that John recognized he'd been in a hospital and the doctors were evaluating him.

"Why do think they took you there?"

"I don't know.  Look Michael, you are asking like a million questions and I need to take care of some business.  Darren is expecting my call about the presentation.  Can we play 20 questions later?"

Michael was frustrated.  He'd hoped his line of questions would spark a reality check with John, but apparently the inconsistencies between his reality and real life didn't appear to bother him. 

"John, you need to listen very carefully to what I'm going to say."

"Okay.  Geez, you sound like somebody died."

"John, could it be possible you don't know where your boyfriend lives nor where you can find him because he really isn't your boyfriend?"

The words hit John like a bulldozer. Looking at Michael like he was the one who should have been locked up, he said, "Of course he's my boyfriend.  Why would you ask me such a silly question?"

Michael twisted his hands in the manner of Macbeth; his heart and mind filled with guilt, even though he hadn't done anything wrong.  Trying to explain false reality was a lot more difficult than he ever imagined. 

"John, did you think it strange that I showed up here this morning?"

Nodding his head, John said, "Yes.  These last few days have been weird so I just took it in stride.  But since you mentioned it, how did you get here?"

"Mr. Taylor's friend called Peter to let him know you were arrested."

John said, "Mr.Taylor's friend knows Peter?"

"Not really.  Peter has been worried about you for a few weeks.  He went to see the exhibit at the June Kelly gallery and ran into Mr. Taylor's agent. They talked, and based on their discussion she alerted Mr. Taylor to your claims of being his boyfriend.  Mr. Taylor told a friend about the situation.  After you were arrested for hugging Mr. Taylor at Kinnetik, his friend got Peter's number and called him." 

"That sounds like a soap opera.  I told you Michael, I was in Pittsburgh to do a presentation for work and then I interviewed with Kinnetik for a job so I could be closer to my boyfriend, Justin.

Michael was at a loss.  He hoped that giving all the information to John would make him see reality, but he obviously was pretty entrenched in his fantasy.  As a therapist, he knew John needed to accept the truth but he was at a loss on how to do this.

"May I interrupt?" Alan said.  "Obviously, Mr. Scott believes Mr. Taylor and he are in a relationship.  Is that correct Mr. Scott?"

"Yes."

"While you were talking to your friends, I reviewed the paperwork pertaining to your charges and your release.  It appears the restraining order has been issued by the judge and you are to be served before you leave the building.  Essentially, whether you believe you are in a relationship with Mr. Taylor or not, he does not want you within 200 feet of him and you are not allowed to contact him by phone, email or postal mail. You are to appear in court to face misdemeanor charges of first degree assault on the 14th of this month, that is next week."

"But why would Justin do that?  There must be some mistake."

Michael said, "John, this is what I've been trying to get you to see.  While you may think Mr. Taylor is your boyfriend, he doesn't think so.  He doesn't want anything to do with you and wants you to keep your distance.  I think you should talk to someone about this.  I know you really think this is real, but I don't think so and Mr. Taylor obviously doesn't think so."

"I have to go to court for hugging my own boyfriend," John said, oblivious to Michael's statements. "You're my lawyer.  Okay, Mr. lawyer, what do I need to do?"

"You need to stay away from Mr. Taylor forever.  A restraining order does not end unless the person removes it.  I suggest you go with your friends and do what they suggested, talk to someone.  If you talk about Mr. Taylor as your boyfriend in court, it most likely will not go well.  You need to let me do the talking and you need to return to New York, forgetting about contact with Mr. Taylor now and in the future. 

John nodded his head and the door opened letting a deputy in the room.

"John Scott," he said as he looked at the four men in the room.

"I'm John Scott," said John raising his hand like he was in a classroom, rather than a police station.

The deputy held out some papers and John took them.  "You are being served with a restraining order.  You are to stay away from Justin Taylor. You are not allowed to come closer than 200 feet to him.  You are to have no phone, email or mail contact with him. Do you understand?"

"Yes," John said as he opened the papers to read them.

The deputy left the room.

"Mr. Scott, as I said, this is a very serious matter.  You understand what the restraining order means?"

"Yes."  He turned toward Sam and Michael.  "Can we go now?  I really need to call Darren."

"Not quite.  Can you tell me your version of the events on the day you were arrested?"

John said, " I went into Kinnetik about 4:30 for an interview.  I was waiting in the lobby to be called for my interview.  A few minutes later I saw Justin walk in.  I got up to greet him since it had been several weeks since we were together, and I told him that I couldn't wait until after the interview.  I told him I loved him and that we would celebrate our reunion.  Next thing I know the police were arresting me."

"According to your statement, Mr. Taylor knew you were coming and planned on meeting you that evening, presumably after the interview."

"Yes."

"Where were you going to meet?"

"He told me he would come to my hotel, pick me up and take me to his place.  That way, I could avoid taking a cab."

"When did that conversation take place, Mr. Scott?"

John paused trying to remember the exact events, but he was having trouble doing so.  "I don't remember.  I knew about the trip a week or so before I went, so probably about that time."

"Mr. Scott, how did you contact Mr. Taylor?  By phone, email? Did you call him from your cell?"

Again John was having trouble remembering the details.  "Ahh.  By phone.  Yes.  I remember Justin telling me the hotel was close to his home and it would only take 10-15 minutes to get there. He said he'd call me about 6:30 since he would be in the studio all day."

"So this call was from your cell?"

"Yes. I don't own a land line."

"Is there anything else you remember about the meeting or the phone calls?"

"No.  Like I said, I was really looking forward to the interview and the chance to move here to be with him.  It would have been perfect.  I don't understand what happened?  I wish I could talk to him; I'm sure this is just a misunderstanding."

"I've really got to go to the bathroom.  Guys, can we leave?" John said as he looked at the three men.  His head was spinning with all the information and he was getting very confused.

Michael and Sam stood up and shook Alan's hand.  Sam turned toward John and said, "I've got to use the restroom also. I'll meet you by the car, Michael."  Sam and John left the room.

"Thank you for your time this morning.  I was hoping John would see reason when presented with the obvious inconsistencies, but I guess I was wrong.  Maybe Peter, my partner, will have more luck in helping him see the problems.  Do you think we could get his phone records?  He says he called Mr. Taylor and it would show up on his phone records."

"This is not some tv show.  I can't go to a judge and request a warrant for them.  Really, they are not pertinent to the case at hand.  The misdemeanor is for accosting Mr. Taylor in an unsolicited manner.  Whether your friend has delusions that they are in a relationship or that he made plans to rendezvous with Mr. Taylor is really irrelevant.  According to the law, Mr. Taylor was a victim of a physical altercation that he did not initiate.  Possibly a review of Mr. Scott's phone records could help persuade your friend, but for our purposes, it is not necessary.  Please stay with your friend until after the court date and ensure that he shows up.  I suggest your friend is in need of some psychological intervention, but I don't have to tell you that."

"We will make sure he stays out of trouble and comes to court next week.  In the meantime, can he leave the area?"

"Yes."

"I'll see you next week.  Thank you."

"Good luck."

TBC

Gus came over a few hours later and he and Justin went to the studio to paint.  Lindsay and Brian went to Brian's office since Rosa was preparing dinner in the kitchen.

Brian sat in the tall leather chair behind his desk and Lindsay sat on the small leather chair on the other side of the desk.

"Thanks for bringing him by.  I thought we were finished with this shit when the guy got arrested.  Now he's out."

"Didn't you say Daphne called his friends and they were coming down to meet with him?  Surely they can help."

"They promised to be in touch with Daphne.  She's going to come over this evening.  I know I can't keep Justin in his studio forever.  Hopefully the article Tim wrote will keep some of the potential crazies from trying to extort money."

Lindsay looked at him with a quizzical face.  "Extortion?  What are you talking about?  Was somebody trying to extort money from Justin?  That's horrible."

Brian got up from his chair and walked to the liquor cart.  Getting out a glass, he poured a shot of Jim Beam into the glass and drank it.  He refilled his glass and returned to his desk.  Lindsay watched from her seat and knew better than to question his drinking in the middle of the day. 

"As you know, several weeks ago we received two packages of pictures of Justin performing when he was in New York.  We worried that if someone had these kinds of pictures, they might try to blackmail Justin. The pictures were legitimate and that's why we decided to have Tim Callen write about Justin's time as a dancer, hoping to thwart any potential problems in the future.  There is a good chance the guy who attacked Justin at Kinnetik probably sent those pictures. He wasn't trying to extort money; he thought he and Justin were boyfriends. Of course, there are a lot of crazies out there and the next one could decide to go for the money angle."

"That's absurd. You guys have been together for a long time and Justin wouldn't do that to you.  He loves you."  Lindsay protested the thought of Justin cheating.  There'd been a time when that might have been possible, but she knew the two men were a very strong couple these days and she couldn't fathom either of them being unfaithful. She knew Brian accepted Justin's love and even admitted to loving him back.

"When Justin heard the guy had been released, he shut down, quit painting.  You know how painting is his life."  Brian took a drink, knowing that it would not change the situation, but unconsciously hoping to numb the reality of it.

"That must be terrible.  What are you going to do?" Lindsay's question reflected the ‘family's' expectation that Brian was able to fix all their problems.  His inability to ‘fix' their problems was incomprehensible to most of them, even after all these years.

"We've got a restraining order against him.  Mel says that should take care of him coming near Justin again.  He's not from here and hopefully his friends will be able to reign him in."

"I'm so sorry, Brian." She was relieved that a solution was already in place, confirming Brian's power to remedy the ‘bad things' in their lives.

"Sorry's bullshit.  I just hope Gus' presence will help.  When I took Justin to the Warhol museum, it sparked his desire to paint.  I think watching Gus create will keep Justin motivated.   He's got a show in a few weeks and he needs to complete 3 additional pieces.  Luckily it's a small show and he's completed 7 along with a large canvas.  Carol said they are using the large canvas to showcase his diverse talent.  He has to pace himself when he paints; it's harder for him than other artists, due to his hand.  Carol said he had enough work to display at the show, but I know that would bother Justin.  Not completing a project would just add to his distress." He finished the last of his Jim Bean and put the glass on his desktop, twirling the glass in his hand.

"Do you want me to talk to him?"  Lindsay offered. She placed a small bit of hair behind her ear and smiled at Brian as she leaned forward in her chair.

"No.  This is something he has to work out.  I'm sure he wouldn't even appreciate our discussion this morning.  The article is public knowledge, or would be if anyone in the family read a newspaper or looked at the news."  Brian smiled at his ability to make a jab at his "family" and their lack of keeping up with the news. He stood up and walked back to the liquor cart, started to refill his glass, but thought better of it and placed the glass on the cart.

Lindsay felt herself blush a little at Brian's dig toward the family, accepting responsibility for her reaction yesterday.  "I'll try and bring Gus over a few times in the next few weeks so he can paint with Justin.  They both will benefit."

"Sounds like a plan.  At least with Gus around, he will pick up a paint brush; if nothing else, he is painting." Brian nodded his head in agreement and walked back to the desk, sitting down again.

He really needed to work this morning but with everything that had occurred, he had given up on that idea.  Gus and Lindsay's presence was making it difficult to work this afternoon.  He thought of a way to get her to leave, but the phone rang, breaking his train of thought.

"Kinney."

"I've only got a few minutes, but I wanted to let you know I heard from Mr. Scott's friends. They went to see him this morning," Daphne said as she watched the digital display on her computer.  "The restraining order was served so he shouldn't be bothering Justin any more. Court is set for next week."

"What?  I thought the restraining order was already in place?"

"No, evidently it was in process but now that they served him, it is officially illegal for him to have any contact with Justin.  Justin can rest assured he's safe from unwanted advances from Mr. Scott."

"Did his friend say anything else?  Is he going back to New York? Did he admit that Justin isn't his boyfriend?  Did he say why he thought Justin and him were together?"

Daphne had hoped Brian wouldn't go down that road.  She really wanted to keep Mr. Scott's delusions secret.  Michael Strong had assured her that he and Mr. Ondi would be keeping tabs on Mr. Scott until the court preceding and then would work on his psychological issues. They shared a little of the conversation with her, but asked that she not talk about it.  They understood that their friend needed treatment, but discussing that with the victim would be counterproductive.

"Brian, leave it alone.  You aren't a doctor or therapist and while I am a therapist, even I won't speculate on the man's mental health.  The police and his friends are handling the situation." Daphne hoped her cautious plea would be heeded but she was unsure how Brian or Justin would take her attitude.

"What the fuck, Daphne!  The man sends Justin pictures, frightens him and then spouts his love in my office and you want us to let it drop!  What is wrong with you? What happened to the champion that Justin knows and loves?"  Brian chided her simple request.

Daphne cringed at the harsh words that Brian said but she knew she didn't want to discuss the situation with him.  He would get angry, especially when it might appear to him that she was siding with John Scott. 

"I will always love Justin and want the best for him, but Brian this man is sick and as a mental health professional I have to feel for him too.  I'm sure his friends will keep him away from Justin and if not, the law will intervene.  Justin's safety has been secured and that is the most important thing."  Daphne flipped through her calendar on her desk and was thankful that she could reschedule her appointments for the day of the court appearance.  "I think you and Justin need to concentrate on resuming your everyday lives.  I'm planning on attending court the day of the hearing, but I suggest you and Justin do not attend.  If there is anything that needs to occur, Mel or I will let you know."

"I want to see the fucker punished; he's put Justin through hell," Brian said as he slammed him hand on the desk.  "The legal system has failed Justin before and I mean to see it doesn't do so again."

"Brian, when I talked to Mr. Scott's friend, he told me the charges are for first degree assault which will most likely result in a fine and time served.  The offense is not severe enough for major jail time.  He's been served with a restraining order so he should not bother Justin again."

"First degree assault.  What the fuck is that?"

"I'm not a lawyer, you should ask Mel for the specifics.  But basically it is contact without malice."

"Fucking legal system.  Can't even get protection from a crazy guy," Brian said as started to pinch the bridge of his nose as he felt a headache coming on.  "What should I tell Justin?  He's already antsy."

"I'll be over later tonight.  I'll talk to him if you want."

"Ok.  See you for dinner?"

"I should be there by 7:00."

Brian hung up the phone and sank into the chair, slouching at the weight of his thoughts. <i> Get back to normal.  The fucking stalker is charged with a misdemeanor, meanwhile Justin is freaking out.  Fucking sucks. Legal system sucks.  How the hell am I supposed to get Justin to just forget about him, when he practically attacked him in my office? </i>

"Was that Mel?" Lindsay asked as she listened to Brian's responses.

"No.  It was Daphne.  Seems she talked to the stalker's friends and he's being charged with a fucking first degree assault- essentially a slap on the wrist.  Daphne sounds like a fucking therapist and wants everyone to forget about it and go on their merry way.  Even wants us to stay away from the court proceedings.  She says the guy has mental problems and we should give him some slack." Brian couldn't sit.  He stood up and paced the length of the room. 

Lindsay listened and nodded her head as she processed the information.  "She is a therapist. You should trust her judgment."

He stopped his pacing and looked at Lindsay with scorn in his eyes. "Really?  I should just tell Justin that the guy who mauled him at Kinnetik is sick and that he should just forget it ever happened.  The guy has a restraining order now and he will obviously obey the law since he is a good model citizen," Brian said the statements with as much sarcasm as he could pour into the words.  "That's the biggest fucking lame idea I've heard and I've heard a lot of them.  Linds, I've got a partner who is terrified to move on with his life for fear that some crazy guy will come after him and we're supposed to just sit back and hope the legal system will work."  He walked over to the liquor cabinet, picking up his discarded glass and pouring himself a fresh shot of Beam.  Drinking it quickly, he poured a second and held it in his hand.

"I know this must be hard for you and Justin, but maybe Daphne is right.  Mel works with the legal system every day and she believes it works. Brian, from what I can tell, you don't really have an alternative." Lindsay watched her friend, her heart clutching as his obvious frustration.  She got up, walking toward him, with the intention of giving him a comforting hug, but was interrupted by the door opening.

Before he could answer, Gus and Justin burst into the room.

"Daddy.  Daddy!!!! Look what me and Justin made.  I used my new brushes.  They are so cool.  I have a really tiny one that can make really thin lines and then I have this huge fat brush that I can paint the whole canvas in a few strokes.  Justin showed me how to wash the canvas with color.  See," he said as he held up the canvas. "It is the sun coming up over the lake in the back yard.  Justin said it is one of his favorite things to look at." Gus pointed out the lake and the shore to both Brian and Lindsay.

"You did a great job, Gus.  Do you have a place to set it until it dries?  You wouldn't want the painting to run," Lindsay asked as she viewed her son's work.  Smiling at his enthusiasm, she used a critical eye and admired the emerging skill he showed for capturing the described scene.

"Yeah.  Justin said I could keep it in his studio and take it home the next time I come over.  Can we come again tomorrow?  I want to take the picture to show and tell?" His animation and excitement was infectious and the adults were pleased with his role in getting Justin to paint.

"Justin and Daddy may be busy tomorrow.  But I'm sure we will come over again within a few days," Lindsay said as she watched Gus stare at his masterpiece. 

"Are you busy tomorrow, Justin?" Gus asked eagerly, hoping Justin would be free.

"I'm not sure what I'll be doing tomorrow.  I may have some grown up stuff to do, but I'll talk to your mommy and we can set up a time in the next few days." Justin looked at Lindsay, nodding his head in quiet approval of the plan for Gus to return soon. 

"Goody.  Can I put this in your studio?  I'm hungry and want a snack." Gus started to walk toward the door, not really waiting for a response.

"I'll put it away, buddy.  Why don't you go with your mom and get some cookies.  I think Rosa made some yesterday."

Gus handed the painting to Justin and went with Lindsay to the kitchen for a snack.

"Did you get any painting done with Gus there?" Brian put down the glass he was holding, leaving the contents for another time.  He walked toward Justin.

"Thank you for having Lindsay bring him over.  I love having him here.  The innocence of children, especially Gus is refreshing." Justin held Gus' painting in his hand, admiring the piece.  "Come with me to the studio so I can put this in a safe place."

They walked down the hall side by side.  Justin asked, "Speaking of innocence, did you hear anything from Carl or Mel regarding the stalker?"

"Not exactly."

"Brian, the question was not that difficult.  You either did or didn't hear anything."  Justin opened the door to the studio and placed Gus' picture on an easel to dry.  He viewed his 3 unfinished pieces and frowned as he chastised himself for not accomplishing more this afternoon.

"Daphne called and she spoke to the friend of the stalker.  You know, the one who is a therapist." Brian looked for signs of recent painting and he eyed a cup with several brushes soaking in what looked like turpentine and hoped that meant Justin had been painting a little this afternoon.

"Ok.  What did she say?" Justin closed his studio door and motioned for Brian to join him.  "I want to tell Gus his picture is drying in the studio."

While the studio was far removed from the main house, Brian did not want Gus to hear this conversation.  He stopped Justin and they stood in the hallway outside the studio. Brian placed his hand on Justin's arm, needing the physical contact.

"He's being charged with first degree assault which is a misdemeanor. He'll be going to court next week.  She said that he will most likely pay a fine and that is all.  She said that he's been officially served with the restraining order and his friends are going to make sure he stays away."

"That's good.  What day is the court appearance?" Justin nodded in understanding. 

"Justin," Brian said quietly, not wanting to reveal the rest of her conversation, but knew Justin would want to know.  "She said the guy has some mental issues and his friends are going to get him some help.  She doesn't think you being in the court would be good idea.  Your presence isn't going to change the outcome and may just upset you."

"Okay."

"Okay.  That's it, okay?" Brian was surprised at Justin's response and wanted to explore his answer.  He was worried that Justin would just shut down rather than deal with the failed legal system.

"Brian.  I've known Daphne practically all my life and if she says that I shouldn't go to court, then I shouldn't go. She always watches my back.  I did some thinking while I was painting with Gus." Justin leaned in to give Brian a kiss, hoping the contact would show Brian that he was accepting of the situation.  After all these years, he knew how Brian thought.  He was certain Brian was concerned that he would retreat into his head and he needed to show Brian otherwise.

Brian raised his eyebrow in a questioning gesture.

"I don't think the stalker meant me any harm.  He sent the pictures to us but didn't make any demands.  While he showed up at Kinnetik and that was definitely creepy, he didn't try to hurt me there either.  True, he thinks he is my boyfriend but he has friends that are going to get him the help he needs.  There is a restraining order preventing him from interacting with me and I have to hope that is enough.  Like we talked about at breakfast, I have to go back to living my life and that means painting and being your partner.  I can't and won't give up either one of those roles."

Justin leaned over to kiss Brian on the lips, with the slightest of pressure.  His stomach took that moment to growl. 

"I guess I need a snack too."

Both men laughed and walked toward the kitchen to join Gus and Lindsay.

TBC

Despite Gus' protests to stay and visit with his Daddy and Justin; Lindsay left shortly after their snack.  Justin sat at the kitchen table as he finished his Oreo and Brian drank the remainder of his ice tea.  Both men were silent for a little while.

"I'm sorry you didn't get to work much today.  I know you must be behind," Justin said as he put his glass on the table.

"Justinnnnn," Brian said, the message that apologies were unnecessary left unspoken.  "Did you paint while Gus was here?"

"A little.  Having an eight-year old in my studio does block the creative juices a bit.  He can talk up a blue streak!  I know he is your spitting image so he must have your genes, but unlike his father, he is not a quiet child. That is one area that he did not follow in his father's footsteps."  Justin said as he teased Brian.  After almost a decade with Brian, Justin had adjusted to Brian's conversational style, even though there were times he wished he would share more of his thoughts.

"Did you know he is considering entering an art contest to design a poster for his school's spring carnival? The winner gets their poster printed and 30 free tickets to the carnival."

"I seem to recall a poster you designed for a certain carnival and you were paid handsomely for it," Brian said as he remembered the carnival. 

"Yeah.  You paid me an exorbitant amount of money for designing it.  I was on to you then, even if we weren't together.  You knew I could use the money.  I'm sure I thanked you, but if I didn't, I'm officially thanking you now."

Brian got a far-away look in his eyes and licked his lips subconsciously.  "Well....  Considering you were with Ian then, I'm sure you did not offer me a proper thank you.  I think you could do so now...." Brian eyed his partner with a lascivious grin.

"I could, could I?  Well I think that might be an excellent idea, Mr. Kinney.  Thank you so very much for the opportunity to design a poster for such a worthy cause," Justin said as he stood up and walked to Brian's chair.  He stood in front of him and reached for his shirt as he quickly unbuttoned the buttons, exposing the smooth skin underneath.  Justin bent down and latched onto a nipple, starting to suck the dusky nub. 

Brian opened his legs to make room for Justin and Justin rested on his knees as he continued his ministrations.  Brian played with Justin's hair as he sighed and enjoyed the attention.

"I think you may be on to something here, Justin.  Want to continue this in our bedroom?  Wouldn't want to surprise Rosa."

Justin kissed Brian's chest as he got off his knees and ended his ascent with a kiss to Brian's mouth.  "Okay.  Good help is hard to find."  He walked past Brian swishing his ass in an exaggerated motion.

They moved their activities to their bedroom where Justin gave Brian a generous thank you. 

"Maybe I should let you draw things for me more often.  I like your method of thanking me," Brian said as he lay on his back while his heart returned to its normal rhythm.  

"Sounds like a plan, but I think that's just an excuse to get me into bed in the middle of the afternoon."  Justin sat up in bed and looked at Brian, enjoying the obvious flush on his cheeks and the knowledge that even after 8 years together he could still excite his partner.  "Normally, we would be working this time of day.  I'm really fine Brian.  Why don't you go to your office and get some work done.  I know you have a lot of campaigns that need your attention."  Justin grabbed the blue back rest that he had pulled from the floor, placing it behind him to give him more support.

"In a bit.  I can recognize Justin Taylor avoidance tactics." Brian sat up in bed and turned toward Justin.  "If I go to work, what are your plans?"

Justin walked into the bathroom to grab a wet cloth to wipe him and Brian off and returned to the bedroom.  "I could go down to the studio.  I have some pieces I need to finish."

Brian waited until Justin finished wiping them off before he responded.  "I heard that could.  I asked what you are going to do, not what could you do.  You could talk on the phone to Daphne for hours, you could drive out to your mother's, you could go run a mile on the treadmill.  You could do a lot of things."  Brian pointed his index finger on his right hand to each finger on his left hand as he recited each option.

"Daphne's coming in a bit; I think I will take a shower and call my mother.  I don't want to start painting and get caught up in a piece, and then have to leave it when Daphne shows up."

"Okay.  I think I'll join you in the shower and then go to my office.  I do have a few things I want to do today."

They walked to the shower and Justin turned the water on, adjusting the temperature.

"Thank you for having Lindsay bring Gus over.  He was a great distraction."

"He wanted to use his new brushes," Brian said as he inwardly smiled at his great idea.   He wasn't about to admit to his own scheming. 

"I guess I should try to paint tomorrow.  Carol will be mad if I don't have enough pieces for the new show," Justin said as he poured the shampoo into his hand.

"Remember our conversation this morning.... You're painting for yourself- not Carol- not me- not the public.  You said you have to create, to paint.  It's in your blood."

"Yeah, I did."

"What's going on in that blond head of yours?  I see the wheels turning." Justin stared at the tiles on the shower wall as he remembered the conversation from the morning; it seemed a very long time, but in reality it was only a few hours.

"Nothing," Justin answered.

"Justinnnnn..."

"I'm tired, Brian. Tired of all this shit.  First it was the pictures. Then the article.  Now the legal stuff.  First he's locked in some psych ward. I let out a sigh of relief since I'm safe from unwanted advances, but then he's released and charged with 1st degree assault or some other legal mumbo jumbo.  I feel like I'm on a nonstop merry-go-round but I'm not having any fun.  Life is supposed to fun, enjoyable, not a nonstop crisis.  Why is my life filled with such drama?"

Brian held out his arms and wrapped Justin in them as the water sluiced over the two men.

"I know, Justin.  We dealt with your accident and regaining your memories.  You thought New York was behind you, leaving all the dancing behind.  It must feel like you're constantly reminded of a time you thought was over."

Justin gave Brian a weak smile and nodded his agreement.  "Thanks."

"Not necessary," Brian said.

"I know.  It's great to have a partner that you don't have to explain every little thing that is happening."

Brian kissed Justin lightly on the lips; his hug a physical reminder of his protection of the most precious thing in his life. They stayed like that for a long time and the water turned tepid.

"I guess that new hot water heater isn't so fabulous," Justin said as he shivered slightly from the dip in temperature.

"Let's get you out of here and dry off.  That should warm you up."  Brian turned off the water and reached for the towel on the heated rack, and then wrapped Justin in its warmth.  He pulled a second towel for himself and enjoyed the warmth.  Brian hung up the two towels and lead Justin into their bedroom.  Pulling the duvet down, he motioned for him to get in and Justin did.  He crawled in the other side and lay on his side spooning next to Justin.

Brian wrapped one arm around Justin's torso and closed his eyes. Soon Justin's even breathing lulled Brian to sleep as well.  They slept for 45 minutes and then Brian shook his hand, getting rid of the pins and needles that had settled there.  The slight movement woke up Justin.

"I thought you were going to work," Justin said as he sat up and rubbed his eyes slightly.

"We fell asleep.  I guess I was tired."  Brian pulled the blanket off and went to the dresser, pulling out some underwear and then he grabbed a pair of jeans.  He went to his closet and pulled out a shirt, slowly buttoning it as Justin watched him get dressed.   "I'm not that interesting. You've seen me a million times.  What are you looking at?"

"I never get tired of the view," Justin smiled as he got out of bed and starting dressing as well.  "I guess I'll call my mom.  She'll want an update."  Justin sat on the bed and grabbed his phone off the night stand.  Swiping it he located his mom's number.  Before he pushed the icon, he said, "What time is Daphne coming?"

"7:00. She'll be here soon."

"Okay."  Brian leaned down to kiss Justin on the lips and then left the room so he could make the call.

Jennifer had just walked into her condo and was placing the mail on the counter when she heard the phone ring. Smiling when she looked at the caller ID, she quickly answered, hoping for an update on the latest problem Justin had encountered.  "Hello, Sweetheart.  How are you?"

"I've been better."  Justin couldn't sit still on the bed.  He got up, walked to the window, looked out at the back yard and watched a leaf fall down from a tree.  "Daphne called and told us the guy got released from the psych ward.  Guess the doctors don't think it's weird hugging random people."  He wrapped his free arm around his body giving himself a hug.  "Daphne understands the stuff better than I.  She'll be here soon.  Want me to have her call you?"  Justin found that talking to his mother was uncomfortable.  She wanted to make "things" better, like all mothers the world around.  In this instance, no amount of motherly love or concern could fix things.  Only the courts and legal system could do that and Justin wasn't too secure in their ability to make things right.  He didn't want to take his frustration out on her, she didn't deserve that. 

"No.  I'll wait.  I'm just glad that you are doing okay.  Do you need anything?  I've got some time before my first appointment tomorrow."  Jennifer heard the anxiety and reluctance to talk in his voice and didn't want to push him.  She'd been dealing with Justin's moods ever since the bashing and she was better at reading him now then she was that time.

"I hope to paint tomorrow, but thank you for the offer."  Justin's reply was quick, shutting out his mother's offer of assistance.   Justin walked away from the window and to the bed, pulling the blanket, sheet and duvet over the bed. He knew Brian hated going to bed in an unmade bed, even if they were just going to rumple the sheets again once they got in.  It was just one of his eccentricities and Justin indulged him in this one when he could.

"I'm glad you are painting."

"Yeah.  I got to go, Mom.  I think I hear the doorbell."

"I love you, Justin.  Take care."

"You too, mom."  Justin hung up the phone, placing it in his pocket. 

Jennifer wasn't happy with the conversation with Justin and while she normally let Justin handle things, she was concerned and called Brian, hoping that he could shed some light."

Brian saw the caller ID and answered after the first ring.

"Jennifer.  I thought Justin was calling you," Brian said as he frowned when he thought Justin did not follow through.

"He did and that's why I'm calling you.  What he didn't say was more informative than what he told me.  There is so much going on in his life; the article, the upcoming show, not to mention the guy at Kinnetik. Usually I can't get him to stop talking but he barely said three sentences.  Will you tell me how my son is really doing?"  Jennifer pushed some hair behind her ear as she looked at the clock on the wall.

Brian didn't like going behind Justin's back, but he respected Jennifer and she had been a pillar of strength after Justin's car accident.   He knew she only wanted him happy.  Deciding that if Justin didn't share the information, someone in the family would do so, he felt if he told her, it would at least be accurate.  Their ‘family' was definitely a shining example of the childhood game telephone.   "The doctors decided the man wasn't a threat to himself or Justin and didn't keep him in the psych ward, but they are charging him with minor assault. I'd love to go assault him."  Brian saw red when he thought about Justin's look of panic as the man started hugging him in the lobby of Kinnetik.  "He was served with a restraining order so hopefully we are done with him, but I don't have a lot of faith in the law.  The law hasn't exactly ruled in our favor."  He didn't need to spell out what he meant by that statement; he knew Jennifer understood the reference.  "He was so worried about the article, but no one has backed out of upcoming shows. If anything it was positive publicity.  Carol told me that she'd had several requests for copies of the pictures.  Seem like the public is very interested in seeing more of Justin Taylor."

"Oh Brian," she said with a note of concern.  "I hope she told them no. I can't imagine how mortified Justin would be if the pictures actually circulated in the general public."

"She told them no, but Jennifer you must realize if this crazy guy had them, there are probably more pictures of him out there.  He was working as a stripper.  People get all caught up when someone takes of their clothes in public, even if he was getting paid to do it," Brian said, pointing out what no one had actually put into words.  Brian frowned as he spoke, acknowledging yet again what his failure to recognize Justin's financial situation was costing both of them.  Not for the first time, he wished he could have convinced himself to admit there were problems instead of turning the proverbial blind eye. 

Jennifer heard the refrigerator as the ice maker cycled. Like Brian, she wished she had been aware of Justin's financial situation.  Maybe she could have given him money so he would have been able to live without resorting to stripping, but she knew that Justin would have never told her and if he did he would have never accepted her help.  His stubbornness was notorious.   "Is there anything I can do, Brian.  I know Justin says he is fine, but..."

Brian leaned back in his office chair, clasping his hands and making a steeple with his index fingers.  He bit his lower lip and licked the inside of it as he thought of his response.  "Justin is ...  I know we want to wave a magic wand and make all this disappear but we can't.  The best thing you can do is keep showing up, keep calling and keep being a part of his life. We don't have control over any of this," Brian said, knowing his reply was not really what Jennifer wanted to hear.  Just like him, she wanted to take charge and ‘fix' the problem.

As she was listening to Brian, Jennifer went to the tea kettle on the stove and brought it to the sink, filling it with water.  She placed it on the stove and turned the burner on and then got a cup down from the cabinet.  She went to the pantry and grabbed a packet of lemon tea.   

"Thank you for talking to me.  I'll call him tomorrow.  Take care of him." 

"I will.  Bye, Jennifer."  Brian clicked his phone off and put it on the desk.   Looking at the corner of his computer, he saw it was already 6:30.  Daphne would arrive at any moment, so he really did not have time to do any work.  He hoped her visit would help settle their concerns about the stalker, but if nothing else it would distract Justin for the evening.

He clicked on the icon, shutting his computer down.  As he shut off the light in the room, the doorbell rang.  Brian went to answer the door, but when he answered it, there was a strange man standing there.

"You must be Mr. Taylor's partner?"

TBC

Brian stared at the person standing at his door.   He was a well-dressed man wearing a pair of khaki pants and a henley green sweater.  His first reaction was to slam the door in his face, but instinct told him he needn't do that. This man was not a threat.  Still it was very disconcerting to have someone show up at his door knowing he was Justin's partner, but even more worrisome that he knew where they lived.

"Who the hell are you?"  Brian asked as his irritation at the intrusion to their already disrupted life boiled to the surface.

"My name is Sam Ondi and I'm a friend of the man who's partner talked to Ms. Singh in New York."  Sam was unsure if this had been a good idea when Michael suggested he go talk to Mr. Taylor and his partner, but he decided that this entire situation was bizarre.  Attempting to put himself in their shoes, he felt he would want some reassurance that John was not a threat to them anymore. 

Brian's ears rang as he heard mention of Carol.  This man evidently was somewhat in the loop.  He walked out on the porch and gently closed the door behind him. 

"Look, I don't care who you are, what are you doing at my home?" He felt his blood rush through his body and his heart pounding in his chest.  The night air was crisp and despite his irritation, he felt a little chill. "I think you need to leave or I will call the cops.  One person invading our privacy is one too many."  Brian took out his phone and started to dial Carl.

"I'm not here to hurt you.  Let me just talk for a few minutes and I will leave.  I promise."  Sam hoped this man would listen but if not, he could always try his second course of action, a phone call. 

Brian saw it was almost 7:00 and Daphne would be here soon. "Talk." Brian took his finger of the screen of the phone and nodded his head in agreement.

"Thank you.  As I said, I'm a friend of the man whose partner talked to Ms. Singh.  I just wanted to assure Mr. Taylor that Mr. Scott will be going back to New York tomorrow.  He shouldn't have any more problems with him."

"And you know this how?"  Brian asked, skeptical that this man could believe he could make those kinds of statements and believe them.

"My friend and I are both licensed therapists and we are going to ensure that Mr. Scott's problems will be addressed."

"This sounds too easy.  While I would be happy to believe your statements, my life isn't ever that easy."  Brian scrubbed his face with his hands and sighed a deep breath.  "How the fuck do you purpose to keep a crazy man from harassing us?  You didn't before?"

"We weren't aware of his delusions and now that we are we will address them.  I can promise you that Mr. Scott will get treatment."

"So you wave your fucking magic wand and he's miraculously cured?  Bullshit." Brian was getting tired of this conversation.  This man was offering nothing but platitudes and he had no time or energy for empty words.  He needed action, always had liked actions over fancy words and this time was no different.  In fact, it was more important the man's words resulted in the desired action.  Justin needed to feel safe so he could create and live in peace.

"Mr. Kinney.  I understand your anger and fear.  You are worried that your partner will be accosted by Mr. Scott again." Sam did not raise his voice, but attempted to calm Brian by acknowledging his situation.

 "There are very effective methods to work with a person like Mr. Scott.  Mr. Strong and his partner will work with him to find a suitable therapist and doctor."

"Whatever.   You've had your say.  Now get off my fucking property and I do not want to see you here again."  Brian turned around and went inside, closing the door with finality. 

Sam walked back to his car, wondering if he made the right decision.  He and Michael had talked about the situation and decided Mr. Taylor would be relieved if he knew the man who accosted him would not bother him again.  They decided that until John understood that he and Mr. Taylor were not partners, they were going to keep better tabs on him and hopefully their intervention would be successful.  He had attended a recent workshop on short term therapy with delusional clients and realized that 8-10 sessions could prove very successful helping the person understand their delusions and change.  At a session a week that would be a very short time.  

He didn't know if he would be treating John, but if he did, he couldn't share his progress with Peter or Michael.  Now that Michael and Peter knew of John's delusions, they would be mindful of any red flags and discussions about Mr. Taylor and would act before John participated in any inappropriate actions.   He drove back to the hotel where Michael and John were staying and relaxed.   He hoped Mr. Kinney listened to his information, but at least he was content in the knowledge that he tried.

Justin walked down the hallway at the sound of the door closing and saw Brian.  Looking around for Daphne, he frowned when he did not see her.

"Where's Daphne?  I thought that was her at the door." Justin walked toward Brian and waited for an answer.

"Not Daphne.  Some guy named Ondi."  Brian said, debating if he should share the contents of the conversation with Justin or stay silent.

"Ondi.  Never heard of him.  Don't tell me now, we have reporters stalking our door!"  Justin slammed his hand against the wall and then held it as the sting took him by surprise.

"Not a fucking reporter.  A damn therapist."

Justin looked at Brian with a confused expression on his face.  Before Brian could respond, the doorbell rang again. This time Brian looked through the peep hole before answering.  Opening the door, Daphne held up a bag of lemon bars.

"I brought dessert," she said as she greeted the men.  Looking between Brian and Justin, she noticed immediately there was something off.  "What's up?"

Justin took the offered bag of lemon bars and walked toward the kitchen, expecting them to follow.  Daphne looked at Brian who didn't respond and they followed Justin.  Sitting at the kitchen table, Daphne looked between both men and said, "Will someone talk?"

"I should have better security.  Tomorrow morning, I'm calling the best security in town and having them put up a fucking gate around the property."

"Brian I will not live in a fortress.  I'm not a fair maiden that has to be locked up in a tower."  Justin responded as he cringed at the idea of living in a house with a gate and security at the front.  "Who is Mr. Ondi?"

Daphne thought for a moment when she heard the name.  It sounded familiar and then she remembered.  "He's friends with that guy's partner.  You know the one that talked to Carol."  Daphne blurted out, proud of herself for her excellent recall.  Then she looked at Justin and saw his face turn an unnatural shade of white.  "What was he doing here?  And how did he find you?"

"Exactly my point.  We need a gate." 

"Brian.   Why was he here?" Justin asked, not willing to have this conversation now.  "Has the guy escaped?  Shit!!!  I knew we couldn't trust the police."  Justin put his head in his hands, a sense of defeat washing over him.

Brian cursed himself for not answering the question directly and allowing Justin to get all worked up for no reason.  He placed his hands on Justin head and lifted it from its resting place on his hands.  Leaning forward, he gently kissed his lips. 

"No.  He has not escaped.  He is with Mr. Ondi and his friend, Mr. Strong and they are taking him back to New York tomorrow.  He won't be bothering you anymore."

Daphne was confused and knew there was more to this revelation than Brian was sharing.  She knew Brian's dislike for having discussions, but she understood in this instance talk was a necessary component of communication. Actions would not cut it here. 

"Brian, why don't you tell us the whole conversation instead of giving us the Brian Kinney version of I'll tell you what I deem important version," Daphne said as she smiled at Justin. 

Justin and Daphne looked at Brian with anticipation, expecting he would do as Daphne asked.  Brian stood up and grabbed a cold bottle of water from the fridge.  He wasn't thirsty but it was more a matter of something to do while he gathered his thoughts and spoke.  He'd already witnessed Justin's quick reaction to incorrect information and he didn't want Justin to injure his hand.  He needed to keep the conversation positive.  He picked up two additional bottles and brought them to the table.  Unscrewing his top, he placed the top on the table and took a long drink from the bottle.

"Daphne, I must commend you on your excellent memory.  I'm sure it comes in handy as a therapist.  Like Daphne said, Mr. Ondi is friends with the guy who talked to Carol. He told me they came to take him home and promised the psycho won't be bothering you again.  He assured me that he and his friend would guarantee he wouldn't be left alone and allowed to come back here."

Daphne took a sip from her water bottle nodding as Brian talked.  "Wow.  I didn't expect that but it makes sense. I guess he feels a little guilty that he didn't recognize the odd behavior.  As a therapist he wants to be sure you're safe and his friend gets treatment.  By coming here, he is letting you know his friend is not being left to the whims of chance to get help, but that he is taking personal responsibility for your safety."

"Thank you for the therapist point of view.  I don't fucking care if it makes sense or what his motives are.  I didn't like him showing up at our doorstep.  It may have made him feel all warm and fuzzy but it made me angry.  I'm calling the security company tomorrow."  Brian said in a raised voice.

"Brian, calm down.  They guy was only trying to help.  He wanted me to know that somebody was aware of the creep's behavior and was going to monitor it.  It makes me feel safe.  And I say again.   I DO NOT want a gate and a security guard around our home.  I already have to deal with our friends thinking I'm some famous artist every time I get written up in the paper or have a show.  I do not need to add to the delusion that I'm so important, I need a gate around my home for protection," Justin said as he watched the veins on Brian's temple throb.  He understood why Brian wanted to protect him, but he did not want to live like that.  He wanted a normal life. "And don't even think about resuming operation ‘watch Justin' every time I step out of this house.  If it will make you feel better, I'll take Ben up on that gym membership and take some self-defense classes."

Brian picked up his water and drank the remainder of it.  Standing up, he took it to the recycle bin and tossed it in.  He looked outside, seeing only the vague outline of the pool house.  Dark had descended over an hour ago and since they agreed not to put lights on the property, the only light came from the streetlight several houses down the block.  It often gave him the illusion their home was far removed from civilization, an oasis of calm, but that calm had been broken by a knock on their door and several envelopes in the mail.

Turning toward Justin and Daphne, he looked at his partner and he had difficulty sorting the multitude of emotions he felt coursing through his body.  The first emotion, of course, was love; unyielding, immovable and unconditional.  The second was fear-  he didn't want Justin hurt yet again; and he needed him to feel safe.  He felt protective of him, wanting only the best in life.  He couldn't name all the thoughts and emotions running through his head and yet he knew if he could whisk Justin away to some remote place where he could paint and not be subject to stalkers and media, he would so.  However, he knew Justin would hate being so far away from their friends and the city.  Recognizing Justin's need for independence and making his own decisions, he knew what he needed to do.

"I'll let you decide, but if the guy shows up again or we start getting hounded by reporters or fans, I'm building a gate, yesterday."  Brian said as he walked back to the table, his tone a little lighter but his eyes conveyed the seriousness of his statement. 

"Thank you. I understand you want to protect me, but I'm not a child and I have to live my own life.  I know my decision to support myself by dancing in New York put us in this mess, but at the time, I felt it was what I needed to do.  I'm sorry it didn't work out like I planned."  Justin took a deep breath as he thought again of all the ramifications of his dancing; the accident, his lost memory, the pictures, the stalker and Brian's reaction to all those things.  They didn't have crystal balls and couldn't foresee their future. He told Brian he needed to paint, regardless of what happened in his life.  Those words were still true.  He only needed two things in life- Brian and his art.  Without them, he wouldn't want to live. 

Justin finished his bottle of water and walked to the recycle bin to dispose of it. Like Brian, he looked out at the black oasis of their property and a calm came over him.  It was dark everywhere, not just at his home.  While the saying said that things were always worse at the darkest hour, he felt the dark closed a chapter, put some finality to his concerns.

"I'm glad the guy showed up.  At least I know that someone is watching the stalker and there are people aware of his actions.  Before, I felt isolated and unprotected, no one but a select few people were even aware of the guy.  Now his friends are watching out for me."

Brian opened his mouth to protest, to tell Justin that he could still be bothered by the guy and his friend's word wasn't proof that he couldn't come back, but he chose not to ruin Justin's calm.  He walked to the fridge and got out the casserole Rosa had prepared earlier that afternoon.  Turning the oven on, he placed it on the rack.

"I'm surprised the beast hasn't roared.  Dinner will be ready in about 45 minutes.  Why don't you and Daphne go chit chat?  I'm going to my office and see if I can get through my emails.  I've tried to read my emails twice, but each time I get through 2-3 before getting interrupted."   Brian turned toward his office, leaving the two friends at the kitchen table.

Once Brian was out of ear shot, Daphne asked, "Are you really okay, Justin or were you playing the stoic man to get Brian off your back?"

"Brian is so paranoid. A gate and a security guard?  Really.  I'm just an artist with a small but loyal following and hardly need to be protected by the paparazzi." Justin ran his hand over his face, a sign of his agitation.  He walked over to the fridge, grabbing a beer and placed it on the counter, not trying to open it.  Walking to the sink to wash his hands, he appeared to forget the bottle, apparently distracted, despite his words.

Daphne nodded her head but watched Justin's body language.  The two did not match.

"Justin, why don't you try telling me the truth?  I've known you since we were 5 and I can tell you are leaving something out."

TBC

Justin and Daphne sat at the kitchen table.  Brian had left the room a few moments ago and Daphne watched her dearest friend as his shoulders slumped and a huge breath came from his mouth. 

"The truth, Justin.  Brian can't hear you, he's in his office by now."

Justin ran his hands over his face as he looked at Daphne, silently cursing their long friendship as it provided her with a very long history of his behavior.

"What..."

"Justin Taylor... not only have I known you since we were five- 20+ years, I am also a trained counselor.  The two combined mean you can't fool me.  I'm surprised that Brian is buying your bullshit, but maybe he's not.  Most likely, he's waiting for you to tell him the truth.  He's too good a man to call you out every time you don't exactly tell him everything."  Daphne smiled at Justin, trying to soften the dictate.

Justin didn't like her scrutiny and felt like he was 7, trying to hide the fact he broke his mother's favorite vase.  He stood up from his chair and walked to the oven, opening the door to peer at their dinner.  A waft of hot air hit him in the face and he inhaled the aroma of Rosa's casserole.

‘How'd you know?"

"Stop stalling, Justin.  Brian will be back here before you know it and I want to know what is spinning in your little blond head."

Justin closed the oven and opened the fridge, taking out the makings of a salad.  Daphne wouldn't make him sit down if he was preparing food for dinner.

"That guy really freaked me out.  If he found our house, anyone could.  Who's to say the next person that knocks on our door won't be the press? Or it could be the crazy guy again, professing his love for me.  I thought I was doing pretty good this afternoon. Gus and I had a great time painting, even though I know Brian pushed Lindsay into bringing him over."  Justin opened the plastic container with spring mix in it and dumped about half of it into a waiting salad bowl.

"I know he meant to put me at ease, telling me that he and his friend were going to make sure the guy got treatment and would be watched, but I think he did the opposite.  By coming here, he broke through my illusion of anonymity.  He knew who I was and easily found us."   Taking out the cucumber from the crisper drawer, he washed it and cut it up in slices.   "I mean, I know I'm an artist and out in the public eye.  So is Brian.  Kinnetik has many high profile clients.  But they don't follow us home, well until now.  My home has been a place of refuge, a place where Brian and I can be together.  I guess, it's like a robbery.  I've read that people lose their feeling of safety after a robbery in their home, even if they weren't around."   Justin grabbed the container of tomatoes from the counter, putting a handful in the salad.  

"Ok.  I understand.  You're not feeling safe."

"Exactly.  But I don't like Brian's idea of a gate and a gatekeeper either.  I don't want to feel like a prisoner."

"You're afraid and feel trapped."

Justin grabbed some artichokes and shredded cheddar cheese from the fridge and placed those in the salad as well.  He took the salad tongs and used them to mix up the ingredients.

"No wonder they pay you the big bucks," Justin nodded as he gave his friend a half smile.

"You don't want to tell Brian because you think he will insist on keeping you safe, either by building a gate or having your friends around you all the time.  Privacy is important to you and now you fear that you'll never be able to have that again."

Justin placed the salad in the middle of the table and joined Daphne.   He still had some water from earlier and he took a drink.   As he played with the bottle, he gave another sigh.

"Every time I think I've got it figured out-  the relationship, the painting, balancing Pittsburgh and New York-   it comes crashing down on me.  Brian's been great though this whole thing.  He doesn't worry that my history of dancing in New York will hurt his business; he keeps insisting if his customers are going to change agencies over that business, he doesn't want them as customers anyway.   He's called in the cavalry- Mel, Lindsay, Carl, - everyone actually- even Gus.  I love that he wants to take care of me, but I want to take care of myself.  I'm not a little kid - I'm a grown man."

"You're worried that he will think you can't take care of yourself."  Daphne listens and without really thinking she puts on her counselor hat.  The key to effective therapy and counseling is helping the person identify their feelings and assist them in coming up with solutions.  She wants to get up and give Justin a big hug, tell him it's okay, but her professional training as well as her gut instinct understands Justin's need to talk and for her to listen as non-judgmental as possible.

"I can take care of myself."

"What does taking care of yourself mean to you?"

Justin stops playing with the bottle of water, standing up to toss it into the recycle bin.  He grabs another one out of the fridge and thinks about the question.  

"You ask hard questions."

"You aren't being graded on your answers, Jus.  Don't over think; just go with your first reaction.  Gut reactions are usually more accurate than people realize."

"Ok.  Taking care of myself has a lot of meanings.  It means I can pay my bills.  It means that I choose who I want to be involved with- Brian of course."  Justin smiles as he answers.  "Of course, I'm happy to say that Brian finally isn't fighting me on that choice anymore."  He sees Daphne give him a smile and a simple nod of her head, motioning for him to continue.

"It means when things go wrong- the stalker, or stupid shit like my car breaks down; I know where to go to fix it.  I'm self-reliant." Justin stands up again, feeling a little fidgety.  Walking over to the cabinet he grabs three plates and three bowls for dinner, bringing them to the table. 

"So asking for help bothers you.  You feel you should be able to live independently."

"Right."

Daphne sits quietly, waiting for Justin to talk, knowing that he is processing their conversation.

Justin pulls out the silverware and grabs some cloth napkins as well, brining those to the table.  Laying them by the dishes, he looks at his creation and nods his head in satisfaction.  Sitting down at his seat, he mulls over the conversation again in his head. A small smile comes over his face as he looks at his friend and confidante.

"No man is an island?"

"No man is an island," she repeats.

"Ok.  So what now?" The buzzer on the oven rang, announcing that the food was ready.

"Justin Taylor, do you think I'm a fool?  You've been telling me for the past half hour that you want your independence; you need to feel in control and now magically you've turned those needs off and are wanting my input."   Daphne said, shaking her head in slight disbelief.   "What do you want to do?"

"I don't know."

"That is a good place to start, but I don't believe you.  You do know what you want, but you fear rejection if you tell me or Brian what you want."

Brian had reviewed most of his email, but when he heard the buzzer from the oven, he finished his current response and closed the program.  Walking to the kitchen, he heard Justin and Daphne discussing something.  He didn't want to eavesdrop, but he had this feeling that Justin wasn't being truthful with him or Daphne and hoped he might be unburdening his thoughts.  His feet on the wood floor were silent and he was able to hear the last bits of the conversation.

"...but you fear rejection if you tell me or Brian what you want." He silently cursed as he listened, fighting between confrontation and ignorance.  Standing there, he continued to listen, hoping he wouldn't have to decide.

"No.  Brian won't reject me.  I know that much."

<I At least the twat got that one right.>/i>

"I want to paint.  I want to have a relationship with Brian without worrying someone will come between us.  I know he believes me - I was never involved with the stalker, but there are pictures, lots of pictures of me dancing.  I don't want Brian to get hurt as a result of my stupidity."  Justin's eyes glaze over as he remembers seeing Brian in the restaurant that night.  "Daphne, you should have seen him when he realized it was me dancing at that party.  The saying someone had red in their eyes, definitely described Brian that night.  He was furious.  He was so angry, he wouldn't even talk to me there, insisted that we go to his hotel to talk.  I'm sure if I hadn't been in the accident, there would have been a nasty fight that night.  I don't ever want to see Brian that angry, especially at me.  This time he supported me, but what about next time or the time after that- he's going to get tired of being the supporting, understanding boyfriend and ..." Justin stopped talking.  Tears formed in his eyes and dripped down his face as he projected his future loss.

Daphne's heart broke for her friend.  She was torn between being the best friend and the therapist. She'd been around since the beginning of his and Brian's relationship, had watched it grow from awe struck teen and older man in denial that he had feelings for said teen to the relationship they shared today.  They worked in tandem, like riders on a two seated bicycle, each carrying their portion of the ride and other times, one had to do the majority of the pedaling.   It took Brian many years to understand that relationships could be very rewarding not the noose that he originally thought. She loved seeing the mature love they both shared.

Looking up she saw Brian come in the room.  He motioned for her to be quiet as he placed his finger to his lips.  She nodded in silent understanding. 

Brian walked to Justin, leaning down and hugging him.  "I'm not going anywhere.  It took me too long to get you trained," Brian said, the half tease in his tone.  His remark was meant to let Justin know he heard some of what he had shared but to also reassure his partner that nothing was going to change.

Justin looked up at Brian, his eyes red rimmed from crying.   Wiping away the tears, Justin was somewhat relieved to know Brian had heard part of the conversation. 

"If a gate and security aren't what you want, then we'll figure something else out.  Last month I was queening out when the paparazzi were hounding Drew on the set.  I could barely film the commercials and they were getting on my last nerve.  You were there for me and now it's my turn. Life is messy, Justin.  I may pretend to give the impression that the world revolves around Brian Kinney, but I know that it's not the case.  My world revolves around you and Gus.  Any one messes with either of you, I get quite protective."  Brian heard Justin's stomach make a loud grumble.

"We can't solve all of our problems with a wave of hand, but I can solve that one," he said as he pointed towards Justin's stomach.  "Our fortress is safe for the moment and I think we should eat. We can talk about our options as we feed the beast."  Brian went to the stove, turned it off and got the casserole out of the oven.  Placing it on the stove, he took off the top allowing some of the steam and heat to dissipate.   He grabbed some water for himself and placed it by his seat.  Taking his plate, he took it to the oven and dished out some food, returning to the table.  

Daphne and Justin followed suit.   They ate in silence for about 5 minutes.   Brian was used to a running commentary from Justin and Daphne and the silence was uncomfortable.  

"The stalker is in good hands and is being watched by his friends.  Carol says things are going great with your upcoming shows and they are eager to receive your work.   We're moving forward," Brian said, naming all the positive things that had occurred in the last few days.

"I know.  You're right."

"Justin, I hear a "but" in there.  I never thought I would hear these words come out of my mouth, but what is going through your mind?"

"I'd like to move." Justin spoke very quietly, reaching out his hand, placing it on top of Brian's and squeezing gently. He needed Brian and the touch calmed him.

Brian and Daphne looked at Justin, both too stunned to respond.

TBC

"I'd like to move." Justin had announced like he was asking for the mashed potatoes. Looking between his partner and his best friend, he questioned his forthrightness.  He guessed they hadn't expected that response.  But they had pushed and he had said what was on his mind.

He was tired of hiding from everyone, putting on the  ‘Everything is fine' façade.  He was so far from fine that if he were running the race of the turtle and the hare from Gus' childhood books, he would be slower than the turtle.  He'd tried to get back on track, to paint, to be okay with the interview, to forget about the pictures that creepy guy sent to him and Brian.  But some anonymous guy showing up at their doorstep to let him and Brian know that he would ‘insure that his friend got treatment' just pushed him past fine.   As they say, it was the straw that broke the camel's back or in his case;  the last time he'd accept  that ‘everything was going to work out' and THIS solution would solve all his problems.

Justin wanted to have a magic lamp to rub and make his wishes come true; he wanted everything to go back to normal, or at least what stood for normal until a few weeks ago.  He never imagined that getting the mail would turn his world upside down.  But opening that envelope addressed to him changed his sense comfort and security.  It started out as a small ping in his gut that maybe something was wrong, to his now constant anxiety, just waiting for the next hairpin turn of events in their lives.  Tonight's visitor pushed him over the edge and he could no longer pretend anymore that he was ‘okay'.

Brian's reaction to Justin's statement was to look at Daphne, trying to discern if she were any more prepared for the bomb that Justin just dropped on them. 
But a quick look at her face told him this was a shock to her as well.  Justin surprised both of them and they were the two most important people in his life.  If they did not see this coming, he wondered how out of touch with Justin's psyche they were.  Brian swallowed the drink of water and put down his fork.

"Move," he said, trying to keep the surprise out of his voice while also trying to remain as non-committal as possible. The ice maker garnered water from the line and pushed it through the slots in an effort to make new ice.  Brian turned his hand over and squeezed Justin's hand in response to his earlier statement.

"Yeah.  I need to move.  I don't feel safe.  When the pictures were sent to us a few weeks ago, it was an anonymous arrival."  Justin got up from the table, walked to the kitchen and grabbed a beer.  Popping the top, he took a drink and carried it back to the table.  Without looking at either Brian or Daphne, he continued.  "I gave an interview to Tim Collins... again that was pretty anonymous."  Justin took a swig of his beer, playing with the bottle as he turned it around.  "Going to Kinnetik and being hugged by the guy still was okay.  He was there for an interview and I just happened to walk in.   But when some anonymous guy shows up at our doorstep and his entire purpose is to assure me that he's got my back ....he will make sure his friend gets treatment and never bothers me again.... I can't do it anymore."  Justin finished his beer, walking to the recycle bin and throwing the bottle away and then grabbing a new one from the fridge.  "I just can't live knowing that anytime someone rings our door bell it could be another whack job.  If this guy can find me, then what about all those other people in the world who aren't so ‘normal'?"

Brian listened, nodding his head as Justin explained his statement.  Daphne took one last bite of her meal, took her plate to the sink and rinsed it, placing it in the dishwasher. She went to the stove and quietly gathered containers for the food that had not been eaten, placing them in storage and putting them in the fridge.  Going over to Justin, she kissed him on the cheek and did the same to Brian.

"I'll call you tomorrow, Jus," she said as she left the two men at the table.  Grabbing her purse and overnight bag, she quietly let herself out. As a therapist and Justin's oldest friend, she understood that this was a conversation that she did not need to be involved in.  Her work was complete, for now.  She'd gotten Justin to tell her what he was really feeling and to share those feelings with his partner.  While the truth surprised her a little, she understood where Justin's fear and trepidation came from and she wasn't sure that he was wrong to want to move. 

Brian watched as Daphne left their home.  Justin had not eaten any more of his dinner and Brian knew his meal was finished as well.  Taking their plates to the sink, he dumped the remaining food down the disposal and placed their plates in the dishwasher as well.  He watched Justin surreptitiously out of the corner of his eye; he did not move or attempt to speak. 

Justin was still nursing his second beer and Brian felt he could drink half a fifth of his favorite bottle of Jim Beam, if it was set in front of him.  However, those days were long gone; drowning his misgivings and troubles in a bottle of whiskey was not an acceptable form of problem solving.   He wondered for a brief moment when he'd become a lesbian, willing to talk about shit, but then accepted that almost losing Justin a second time in the car accident had been a wake-up call.  At the time, he needed to share his feelings and to remember the events in their lives that had shaped their relationship.  A few years ago Brian would never have used the word relationship to describe what he and Justin had together, but he did not deny that connection now.  Justin was a part of him, a part he was not willing to forego if he could prevent that separation. 

Brian motioned for Justin to join him in the media room.  Brian walked to the liquor cart, pouring himself a drink, bringing it back to the couch and setting it down on the table.  Brian looked at Justin, seeing the unspoken anxiety in his hunched shoulders and tight furrow of his brow.

"I want you safe," Brian said softly, letting his words permeate the air.  "If you need to move to be safe, then we will move."  Brian picked up the glass from the table, rolling it in his hands before drinking some of the amber liquid. 

"Really?  You'd just move.  Leave this place? Our home?" Justin asked.  He wanted to move, wanted to feel safe, but thought Brian would try to talk him out of it. He let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding in.

Brian put down his drink and turned toward Justin, taking the back of his fingers and running them lightly down his cheek.  He used his cupped hand to turn Justin's face toward his so they were looking at each other. Brian smiled at Justin, leaned in and gave him a soft kiss on his lips.  Leaning back, he nodded his head.

"This is a building.  Yes, it is where we live, but Justin home is where you are."  Brian shook his head at the cliché.  "I really have turned into a lesbian," he said, tongue in cheek.  The light on the dish receiver came on as it started to record a preset program - the slight buzz of the recorder was the only sound in the room.

"I chose this place because I wanted to give it to my Prince.  My Prince isn't happy here anymore, so we need to move.  It really is that simple."

"Brian... What about your work?  What about Gus? What about...."

"Justin, you say you want to move.  I say okay.  Now you appear to be trying to come up with reasons why we shouldn't."

Justin didn't say anything, allowing his thoughts and feelings to run rampant through his mind.  <i>  I'm tired of living this way, wondering what today's crisis will be.  But do I have the right to ask Brian to move, to uproot his entire life because I don't feel safe?  He says he is okay with moving, but is he really?  Where do I want to move?  I can't go to New York and I really like Pittsburgh, its where my family is and all of our friends.  I don't think I would be able to handle making a new life at this time.  I need connections and familiarity. I'm scared, but I'm in awe that Brian isn't fighting this.  We've come so far.</i>

"I just didn't expect this."

"Expect what?" Brian looks at Justin with a frown on his face. 

"I didn't expect you to agree.  I mean I thought I would have to fight you and I was trying to come up with all the reasons this was a good idea, and then you just say okay," Justin said.  He was feeling tired, all the adrenaline from the day's events was leaving his body and the fight or flight reactions were dissipating.  "I'm tired.  It's been a long day."

Brian really wanted to settle this discussion.  He knew he would do anything for Justin, including moving, but he understood Justin needed time to work through his request, even if it was something he desperately wanted. 

"Why don't you go lay down for a bit?  We can talk later."   Brian stood up, walking toward the stairs, turning around to insure Justin was following him.  When Justin reached the step underneath him, Brian reached out his hand, grabbing Justin's and they ascended the steps together.  Brian helped Justin undress, lifting the blanket so he could climb inside the warm cocoon.   Brian lay next to him, on top of the bedding, his arm wrapped around Justin's waist as Justin quickly allowed his exhaustion over take his body. 

Brian held his partner.  For once, there wasn't any ‘if only I'd done this or not done that' running through his mind as he contemplated their current situation.  No one had really done anything wrong, or more appropriately said, no one had anything to be sorry for.  Sure Justin had been a dancer to support himself so he could paint, but in the scope of things that wasn't a huge problem.  If someone were to follow the steps backwards to their present problems it could lead back to that decision, but those pictures could have just as easily been taken when he was dancing for the Sap.  He hadn't really thought of that time in many years and if he brought it up to Justin.... Well no need to bring back another one of Justin's bad decisions that almost cost him dearly.  Rape is never an acceptable outcome to earning a living. 

Justin wanted to move and he meant what he said, Justin was home not some structure.  The biggest question to be answered was where to move.  New York was out.  The stalker was there as were many more potential clients that Justin had danced for.  He wanted to stay close to family, especially Gus and he assumed Justin did too. Brian contemplated the many options but fatigue overcame him as well as he allowed sleep to claim his body.

Several hours later Justin woke, slightly disoriented when he realized Brian was lying on top of the bed and he was under the blanket.  As sleep cleared from his mind, his heart began to race when he realized he had told Brian he wanted to move.  He extricated himself from Brian's familiar hold and started to move out of the bed.

"I'm awake.  Come back here, Justin," Brian said softly, his tone filled with the love he felt for Justin.  There was no hint of anger or question, just a request for his presence. 

Justin returned to his previous position, but he did not get under the blanket, instead choosing to lie in Brian's arms on top of the bed.  Brian's arms around him always made him feel safe and he felt his heart slowing to match that of the heart- beat of his partner.

"I've been thinking," Brian said.  The clock ticked in the background.  "Kinnetik has several suites in the city for VIP's.   We can gather some of our clothes, your sketch pads and a few necessities and hole up there for a bit.  It will take some time to sell this place and for us to find a new one, but there is no need for us to live here while that is happening."

Justin listened and his first impulse was to argue why that wasn't a good idea, but when he started to explain, Brian turned him, kissing him solidly. Justin broke the kiss after a few minutes and started to answer again, but Brian repeated his actions, taking a little longer this go round.

"I need for you to feel safe.  WE NEED to find a new place to live, to call our home.  It needs to feel safe for both of us.  This is not a quick decision.  Let me offer you a place for now.  There are two apartments; both are in manned buildings so no one can just ‘stop by'.  I'll call Cynthia in the morning and have her notify the building's management that we will be coming by for a look."

Justin moved on top of Brian's body, laying his legs between Brian's open legs.  The two men fit perfectly together, interconnected puzzle pieces. Justin kissed Brian, the kiss filled with all the words he could not speak at that moment.  He shared his gratitude, his love, but most of all his desire for his partner.  Even through several layers of clothing, Brian could feel the hardness of his partner.  He flipped Justin onto the bed, placing his finger to Justin's mouth and making a ‘shshing' noise. 

"Let me lose these clothes and then we can continue."  Brian quickly took off his clothing, grabbing the lube from the side of the bed.  "I'd be honored to accept your thanks," he said tongue in cheek as he lay down on his stomach. 

Surprise filled Justin for the second time that evening.  Brian understood that Justin needed control over his life.  He needed to feel he had some say in what happened. Brian was willing to give him control over his body, the ultimate in gifts.  Brian understood him so well; his needs and wants.  He loved this man so unconditionally and his heart swelled with the knowledge that Brian Kinney would do anything for him.  Justin usually preferred to be made love to, to receive Brian into his body, his seed bathing him from the inside.  Today was different and Brian recognized that need too.  Justin needed to be the one in control, to choose the ministrations, to choose the time and position of their joining.  Brian was fulfilling that need in the most intimate of ways. 

His kisses started at the base of Brian's neck, slow and soft, and then changed to deep and sucking.  Justin explored Brian's body as if he were playing with a new toy.  His hands roamed the well-muscled flesh, massaging as well as administering light feathery touches.  Brian sighed with enjoyment.  With each sigh, Justin found himself relaxing, enjoying his favorite activity. 

Justin moved his mouth down to the small of Brian's back, the place where it indented right about his ass cheeks.  The smell was more intense here.  It was uniquely Brian and Justin knew he could never describe it to anyone.  A smell that only he inhaled, a mix of pheromones and soap, but something else.  He thought now that it was the smell of love, a smell unique to partners. He opened Brian's ass cheeks, inhaling the ultimate in man scent.  Taking a swipe of the inner skin, he moaned in appreciation of the taste.  Brian pushed up his hips offering easier access to the channel.  Licking and sucking the sensitive tissue, Justin got lost in the taste and scent of his partner. 

"Justinnnnn," Brian pleaded as he rubbed his cock into the bed. 

Brian's words brought Justin out of his zone.  Justin gave several licks from Brian's crack up to the tip of his cock, stopping along the way to suck on each ball. 

Brian's sighs of enjoyment brought Justin even closer to his partner, recognizing that he was the cause of these sounds of ecstasy.  Justin found the lube, preparing both of them for ultimate in bonding. 

"Now!" Brian pleaded as Justin prepared him.

Justin pushes in slowly, insuring Brian is not hurt by the rare coupling.  Brian is ready, needing fulfillment from the beginning.  His body arched onto Justin's cock as Justin slammed into Brian. Justin placed his hands on either side of Brian's hips, pulling him close as he completes each thrust; their pants and rapid breathing, the only sound in the room.  Justin feels his heart pounding as if he is running a race.  He wants to savor the moment, but his body has other ideas.  It fills with adrenaline, high on the sensations his cock is experiencing. 

Being inside his lover, feeling the ultimate bond between two people overwhelms his mind; there are no words to describe making love with your life partner.  Your body wants to crawl inside, become one with the other person, but the limits of the human body prohibit a permanent fusing of the two.  Their physical bonds become spiritual ones as well.  They are joined as close as two people can be and they only feel each other.  The race to the finish is completed too quickly for both men and neither want to part but nature demands their bodies return to normal so they can enjoy the post adrenaline rush as it dissipates through their systems. 

"I love you," Justin whispers as he rolls off Brian.

"I know.  Me too," Brian said as he turns his head to look at his partner.  "Let's get some sleep; we have a big day ahead."  He rolls toward Justin and assumes his earlier position of holding Justin by the waist.  Justin wipes himself with the sheet and pushes his body back toward Brian as he places his hand over Brian's hand and closes his eyes. They fall into a peaceful sleep.

TBC

The day arrived as the sun streamed through the curtains in their bedroom.  Brian wakes, being the early riser of the two.  Looking down at his sleeping partner, he smiles at Justin's softened face peaceful in sleep, and realized he hasn't seen that peaceful look in several weeks.  Justin is usually a happy, carefree man; one who grabs at every new opportunity to add to his life collection of experiences.  Justin interprets his emotions and life's everyday occurrences through his paintings, making sense of the world.  His paintings represent his feelings and are an extension of himself. 

Brian has finally accepted the fact that the events of the last few weeks were just too upsetting for Justin which explains why he cannot create, can't paint. Justin can't bear to transfer his emotions and the events of his life onto a permanent canvas.  Not at this time-this moment.   Maybe in the future when he can look back on the experience; he can depict this time, painting it on canvas, but for now, he needs to protect himself from vulnerability.  Brian imagines when the dust settles, Justin will paint some pieces depicting this nightmare, but to push him to paint at this time is asking him to open a wound that has barely started to scab and he understands this is not an option.  Protecting his partner has always been paramount in their relationship and this time it is no different.  Physical protection is only one cornerstone of the tower; emotional protection is the other cornerstone and one without the other is unacceptable.

Glancing at their bedroom, he sees their furniture, Christopher Coleman originals; the bold colors meeting Justin's desire for a break from his own stark minimalist tendencies.  Admitting their bedroom was pleasing to the eye made Justin supremely smug for a bit once the items were delivered, but he had to admit that Justin's eye for color and design had added comfort to their home.  He wondered if Justin would want their furniture in their new home or would he want to start life fresh again.  He realized it made no difference to him; Justin was home and the physical space was a place for them to be together. 

Shaking his head at his growing lesbian thoughts, he crept out of their bed and went to the kitchen to start some coffee. As the coffee was brewing, he started making the necessary arrangements for them to move to one of the suites in the city.  His first call was to Cynthia.

"Good morning, Brian.  Are you working from home today?" She asked casually, mentally arranging the work day for either option, staying at home or coming into the office.  She clicked on the icon on her desktop that opened his calendar so she could review his day.

"Neither.  Justin wants to move.  I suggested we go to the Signature Suites.  I know we have a suite on reserve there most of the time. The execs from Templeton are coming in next week and they were going to use the suite, but we can put them up somewhere else.  Is anyone else scheduled to use the suite in the next few weeks? Being in a place with a door man would make Justin feel safer right now."

Cynthia knew better than to comment on the sudden development and instead clicked on the calendar that held the information regarding their upcoming out of town clients.  She clicked through several screens, viewing the information.

"Templeton is scheduled for Tuesday and Wednesday next week, but after that we don't have anyone coming in town until next month.  That gives you at least three weeks if we put the Templeton crew in a different place."

Brian nodded his head as he bit the corner of his upper lip.  "Great. That gives us at least a month, maybe longer to find a new place.  We can always put the clients somewhere else. They aren't going to know the suite is different.  Call the hotel and book a new suite for the Templeton clients and make sure the hotel knows to add the normal amenities."

"No problem.  Anything else you want me to do?"

"I haven't looked at my computer this morning.  Is there anything that is pressing requiring my immediate attention?"

Cynthia clicked on her Outlook program reviewing the emails she had sent and also clicked on Brian's in box.  As his assistant, she had access to his email and for situations like today, it was very much appreciated. 

"No.  Ted and I can handle anything that is out there.  Take care of Justin and we'll see you in a few days.  I'll also call the Shadyside and have the suite readied for you and Justin."  She scribbled on a pad nearby to make notes; this was not how she envisioned her morning. She would do anything for these men and today's request was easy enough.  She was saddened by Brian's statement regarding the need to move, but understood where Justin's mindset was since the fiasco in their waiting room.

"I'll check in later.  You know how to reach me."

"Boss, we'll hold down the fort.  You take care of Justin and give him a big hug for me."  Cynthia often teased Brian about Justin.  She had a fondness for Justin and it didn't have anything to do with his being her boss. Technically, Kinnetik was his business as well as Brian's since they were married, but her feelings for him had nothing to do with his and Brian's relationship.  Justin was a great man and she loved him just like she did Brian.  It bothered her, knowing all the pain he'd experienced in the last few years.  Hopefully, things would settle down for him and Brian.  They both deserved wonderful things in life.

Brian made a call to a moving company, even though he felt they would only be taking some of their clothing and other essential items for now.  He did not feel like dealing with packing their belongings and the hassle of relocating.  Money could buy a lot of services.  As he finished his first cup of coffee, he heard Justin in the bedroom and walked toward their sanctuary.

Bringing a cup of coffee for Justin with him, he placed it on the night stand next to Justin.  Sitting on the bed, he leaned over and kissed his partner, taking in his unique taste and smell.  Even after all these years, he did not tire of kissing Justin and actually found it one of the more pleasing things about his morning.  Kissing  sleepy Justin, enjoying his movements as he slowly woke up and returned the kiss was a guilty pleasure.  Justin sometimes complained that he wanted to wake up first before Brian started his good morning kiss, but Brian ignored his request.  Kissing Justin half asleep was different than kissing him when he was fully awake.  There was an innocence and slowness to it.  He really could not describe it, but he knew it was most enjoyable.

"Coffee?  I smell coffee." Justin sat up in bed and turned toward the cup, taking it off the night stand.   Taking a welcome sip, he smiled.  "I won't ask how long you've been up.  I know it's probably been hours. I will ask why you aren't dressed for work.  You said something about a conference call to Leo this morning."

"You don't forget much.  I called Cynthia and told her we were busy today.  She'll take the call for me.  I may be very talented, Justin, but I cannot be at work and decide what I need to complete my wardrobe at our new abode at the same time."

Justin scrunched his eyes in confusion.

"You told me you wanted to move and I suggested we move to one of the suites that Kinnetik reserves in the city.  Does this sound vaguely familiar?"  Brian leaned over and kissed Justin again, tasting the coffee on his tongue.  "I've contacted the movers and they will be here this afternoon.  They're going to pack our clothes and any other essential items for us.  Otherwise it would take quite a while to move."

"Brian. That will cost a fortune."

"It's only money, Justin.  I was serious about your request.  I want you to feel safe and there is no need to stay here while you pack all this shit.  We can take our clothing and any other items you want and set up housekeeping in the suite while we decide where to move."

"You're still okay with moving?" It was difficult to look at Brian directly, fearing what he would see on his face.  Justin could always read Brian's gestures and mannerisms better than anyone and while Brian kept insisting he was fine with moving, Justin recognized the slight hesitation in his voice and the small frown on his lips.  He knew Brian would do whatever he wanted, but now in the light of day, he just wasn't sure he had really thought about the realities of moving.  

"Nothing has changed since last night.  These are just four walls, Justin.  I chose this place for you.  We've lived here for a while, but we could easily live somewhere else."

Justin drank his coffee, finishing the cup.  He reviewed the last few days and the conversation from last night.  "I guess I better get dressed."  He wondered if he was being irrational or had spoken too quickly about moving.  <i>I'm asking so much and I don't want to disappoint him. Leave it to Brian to call movers who would arrive today and take care of everything.</i>

"Ok."  Brian watched as Justin got out of bed, admiring his ass as well as the other parts of his anatomy.  He was one lucky man to have Justin in his life and that is why he was willing to relocate. 

Justin dressed quickly in a pair of old jeans and a long sleeve T.  Walking into the kitchen, he opened the fridge and got out the orange juice and milk, pouring himself a glass of each.

"You eaten?"

"No.  Pour me some too."  Brian said as he got out two more glasses.

Justin took the bagels out of the bread box and popped two in the toaster oven. Grabbing the cream cheese from the fridge, he placed it on the table and grabbed a small plate and a knife as well.

"Should I make some eggs?"

"No.  I'll make myself a guava juice shake."  Brian said as he got out the ingredients for his own breakfast.

They fixed their respective breakfasts and sat at the table.

Justin took a bite out of his bagel and watched Brian as he finished making his morning shake.  Justin still cringed at the site of a green shake, but he learned many years ago, not to question Brian about his food. 

Looking around their familiar kitchen, he tried to envision living somewhere else and completing this routine in a different place.  He tried visualizing going to work in a different studio, watching tv in a different media room and even making love in a different bedroom, but he couldn't quite wrap his mind around that picture. 

"Brian.  Maybe I was being rash last night.  Maybe we should think about moving." 

Brian was undeterred from Justin's statement.  "Justin, let's not make any decisions right now.  We will relocate to the Signature Suites for a few weeks.  We don't have to put this place on the market today."

"Ok" He ate another bite of his bagel.  "I love you.  Thank you for doing this."

Brian poured his shake into a glass and joined Justin at the table.

After breakfast, they went through their home, deciding what they wanted to take with them to the hotel.  A short time later the movers came and packed up their clothes, DVD's and some personal items.  They drove to the hotel to check in and set up their new home.  The movers were efficient and everything was in place by dinner time. 

While they hadn't moved their possessions, it was still a long day.  At least with bi-weekly maid service, their clothing and personal items were not dusty.  Justin remembered moving his stuff from New York; his allergies bothered him for days from all the dust he stirred up.

Looking around their new home, Brian smiled and was pleased. He didn't have time or energy to deal with the intricacies of setting up "house" and was thankful that money could make things move a lot smoother.   "I think we should christen our new home," Brian said, deciding to enjoy the novelty of a new place.

"I like how you think," Justin said as he started to take off his shirt.  "I feel kind of dirty after all the activity today.  I'm taking a shower.  Want to help wash my back?"

"I'm feeling dirty too."  Brian took off his shirt and tossed it to the side.  Unbuttoning his pants and letting them drop to the floor, he stood naked in front of the shower. 

Justin licked his lips and leaned in to kiss him.  "Let's get clean and then..."

They christened their new home, both enjoying the novelty of a new place.  There really was something to be said about hotel sex being better. While Brian and Justin had enjoyed sex for many years, having sex in their new home put a little more permanence to the move.  They ordered room service at dinner time and sat down to enjoy the stuffed chicken breast with salad and green beans.  There was a small table in the suite and they chose to place their food there rather than eating from the cart table.  Justin separated the food onto plates and they sat down to eat.

"I need to find space for a studio.  Tomorrow, I will start looking.  While the Signature Suites are supposed to be like home, somehow I doubt they would want me making a corner of the area my studio." Justin poured some wine into a glass and took a sip as he gave a half smile.

"Does that mean you're ready to start painting?" Brian took a bite of his chicken as he asked Justin for clarification.

"Yes.  No. I don't know."  Looking down at his plate, he moved the food around without attempting to place some on his fork.  Justin took a sip of his wine and cut into the chicken breast.  "I know I need to complete a few pieces for the upcoming show.  I guess I need to go out to the house and pick up some supplies and the canvases I was working on." He spoke softly, resigned to returning to Britin.

"We talked about this, Justin.  Carol said you have enough pieces for the upcoming show, but she would like a few more for back up.  She also said you could postpone the show for a week or so if you needed to."  Brian wanted to add so much more to his statement, but didn't want to push Justin.  He waited to see where Justin was going to take the conversation.  He looked at Justin's plate, noticing that all the food was still there, just moved around.  He took another bite of his chicken breast.  "The chicken is really good. What do you think?" he asked, hoping to get Justin to eat.  He knew Justin was upset as eating was as natural as breathing for him.

Justin stabbed at a piece of chicken, placing it on his fork and then put his fork down, slapping his hand down on the table. "You're going to work tomorrow, I assume.  You do have a business to run.  I've been thinking all day about what I want to do.  You work and I paint.  That's our life.  If I'm not painting, it is because I'm finalizing a show.  You're going to get up tomorrow morning and go to work and what am I going to do?"  He got out his phone and swiped through to the calendar app.  Reading it aloud, he said, "There's nothing on tomorrow's calendar."  He swiped a few more days forward and said, "and there's nothing on the next few days either.  I usually make some notes to myself regarding ideas or things I need to get finished every few days.  Right now, my life is a blank."  He closed the calendar app and put the phone back in his pocket, looking at Brian.

"I'm not some love sick newlywed waiting eagerly for my husband's return from work so we can screw around all night. Not that I don't like sex, but I can't make that my whole life.   I need something to keep me occupied all day and no, I don't mean busy work.  I need a purpose and if I don't paint, what purpose do I have?"

"Painting is your job and you're not sure you can paint; therefore you're at a loss what to do with yourself."

"Sort of.  I want to paint, but I'm not sure I can."

"You've had times where you weren't painting. What did you do during those periods?"

"I visited friends, went to galleries, hustled my work.  You know what I did."

"Okay."

"Tell me what you're thinking.  I can see you hesitating."  Brian reached out his hand and placed it over Justin's hand.  He smiled his most encouraging smile and looked directly at him. 

"Everything is moving so fast.  I tell you I want to move and a day later, here we are in a new place.  I need life to get back to normal but I'm just not sure what normal is any more."

Brian stood up and walked toward the couch.  Motioning for Justin to join him, he patted his lap and Justin laid his head on Brian's legs as he stretched his body on the cushions.  Brian gently stroked Justin's blond hair, knowing this was calming to his partner.

"I love my studio at Britin.  I have it set up perfectly; the light is wonderful, no matter what time of day it is.  All my supplies are there.  I know the amount of time it would take just to set up the studio, not even factoring in how long it would take to find a space.  And I can't forget the cost- not only to move my current studio but to rent space somewhere else.  I may be making money with my art, but that would seriously cut into the profits.  It would be weeks before I could have a set up like that.  Unlike a living space, where someone can come and pack you up in the morning and deliver your stuff in the afternoon, a studio is personal.  It is a daunting task that I'm not up for at this time."

Justin closed his eyes as he spoke, enjoying the soothing motion of Brian's fingers on his head. 

"So, you want to paint in your current studio at Britin?"

"I guess."

"If you go there to paint, you start to question why you aren't living there." Brian said.  He knew how Justin's mind worked and thought this was the issue, but wanted to check for certain.

"Yes."

"You don't have to live and work in the same space.  I know I spend a lot of time at Kinnetik and sometimes you think I should have a bed there since I'm there so much."

Justin laughed at Brian's comment and Brian was pleased that he added some humor to the situation.

"However, we both know that I need separation from my work and if I didn't have a place to go home to, I probably would work even more than I do now.  Unlike me, your work is dependent on your mindset.  If you wake up at 2:00 in the morning with an idea for a painting, you can't wait to start work.  You need a studio close by."

Justin just nodded his head in agreement.

"Britin is almost an hour away."

"What am I going to do, Brian?  I love my studio, but as you said it's not realistic to keep it if I'm so far away.  I guess I will have to go looking for new space tomorrow."

"Not necessarily.  You have your sketch books here.  Why don't you work on some sketches, spend some time with Gus, visit your mom, go play with Daphne.  The court date is in 5 days.  Don't push yourself to do anything.  If you get the urge to paint, call me or Emmett, or Debbie or any one of our "family".  I'm sure someone can go with you to the house.  We have a state of the art media room and cook's kitchen.  Either of those can keep your companion busy while you create and you won't be alone."

"I don't want to be a burden."

"A very wise man once told me "A man's gotta know when to ask for help."  Asking for help isn't weak, it just shows you're human."  Brian leaned down and placed a small kiss on Justin's lips. 

"I guess that man was very wise."

"I think he's the wisest man I know.  After all, he got me to be his partner and that was very wise indeed.

"Well, this wise man thinks you need to retire to the bedroom and pound him into the mattress.  I've had enough thinking for the day and need some distraction."

"I think that can be arranged."

Brian placed the cart outside the door and joined Justin for a night of lovemaking, reaffirming their commitment to each other.

TBC

Michael and Peter lay in their bed, each listening for any noise coming from their guest bedroom.  Michael, Sam and John had returned from Pittsburgh several days ago and they had insisted John stay with Michael and Peter until after the court date. 

"Do you think he understands how serious all this is?" Peter asked Michael, relying on his partner's professional expertise in this situation.

"We talked quite a bit on the ride home; five hours can be a very long time to have a conversation." Michael sat up in their bed, propping his pillows against the head board for support.  "Honestly, I don't think he really has a grasp on the situation.  John talked about going back to Pittsburgh and making Justin understand their commitment."

"Do you think he'll stay here?  I mean, from everything you said, if he went back and contacted Justin it would be disastrous.  He could go to jail for disobeying the court order."  Peter mirrored Michael's actions, placing his pillows against the head board and pushing his back against them, holding them in place.

"We won't let him go back.  That's why he's here, to protect both of them.  However, after the court date, I don't think John will voluntarily stay here.  I think we need to get him some professional help." He laid his hands on the blanket, pulling it up to cover his legs.

"How are we going to get him help, if he doesn't see there is a problem?  I seem to recall that the first step is always admitting you have a problem." Peter thought he was being clever quoting a common phrase from the 12 step program.

"That is the first step when you are dealing with substance abuse, but it is also key in this case as well.  You can't really treat someone voluntarily who doesn't believe there is anything to treat." The wind from the outside could be heard through the window.  The temperature was going to be much colder tomorrow if the force matched the sound.

"See, I do listen to you when you talk therapist," Peter teased as he leaned over to give Michael a kiss.

"Of course, you do," Michael said as he returned the kiss.  "But all kidding aside.  John agreed to stay with us while we wait to return to Pittsburgh, but he's convinced there is no merit in the case and I think we will have problems then." Michael didn't want to alarm Peter but he knew it was not as simple as explaining why John's thinking was faulty.  As a therapist, he felt that a combination of therapy and medication would be key to John's healing.

Peter frowned as he listened. "What can we do?"

"I know he understands that you can't lie in court.  Court records are public information. We may have to ask the clerk to print us a transcript of the proceedings.  Maybe hearing and seeing the evidence will change his mind.  If he reads that Justin and Brian are in a relationship and that his advances were unwanted, then maybe he'll believe that.  He knows the difference between right and wrong and if he accepts that someone would not lie in court, it might help make him see the problem.  Although I really don't think that will have the impact we want either.  I think we will have to get him to talk to a therapist, someone well versed in this area."

"Wow. You have been thinking about this, haven't you?"  Peter heard the heat kick on and smelled the familiar scent of heat pushing through the vents. It had been unseasonably warm in the last few weeks so the heat had not kicked on recently.  The smell was a familiar one and he involuntarily sighed.  He knew that winter was close by.

"I have, but I'm still not convinced it will be that easy.  John has some strong delusions about Justin.  He talked a lot on the way home about his life with Justin and their home, etc. Each time he started a conversation about Justin, I asked him questions, trying to demonstrate holes in his thinking.  Occasionally, he did appear to think about the statements.  I think the court appearance may actually be helpful.  Hearing other people talk about his behavior and question his beliefs may be the key for him to see that he is not in a relationship with Justin."

"But if he doesn't believe there is a problem, how are you going to convince him to take any medication?" Peter had talked to Michael sporadically about the visit but this was the first time they had really discussed the treatment options.  While he'd been teasing earlier when he quoted the first step in a twelve step program, he knew that unless John accepted he had a problem, it would make this whole situation difficult.

"That is one question I think I can answer.  The court may be our best friend.  They may make treatment a part of his sentence.  Courts can mandate treatment.  If he is mandated, we can make sure he sees someone here.  I've been thinking about a few colleagues that I could refer him to." Michael could feel the drop in temperature despite the heat coming on.  Their apartment was older and despite their best efforts, it still had a draft.  He got out of their bed, walked to the closet and grabbed another blanket.

"Do you think the courts will mandate treatment as part of the case?  If so, it would really help the situation." Peter helped Michael spread the blanket on the bed and felt immediately warmer.  "Thanks.  I really didn't want to get out of bed but it was definitely cold in here."

"Based on the conversation we had with Dr. Farsi, the hospital chose not to keep him in protective custody. They left it up to the police; however, the courts will only hold someone if they are a threat to themselves or others.  All Dr. Farsi's exam told them was that John would most likely not harm Justin.  I think if the courts interview John regarding his actions, they will see he has delusional thoughts when it comes to Justin."

"So, you think they will interview John?" Peter asked, not thinking this was a possibility.  He knew if a judge talked to John, they would quickly realize he had delusions regarding Justin; but, if they based their court appearance on just the unwanted hug, it would be different.

"If I were involved in the case, I would.  His lawyer, Alan Crawford suggested John get medical help.  Remember, he questioned him regarding the events of the day and there were some huge holes in the story.  I would use that as defense, if they use defense in these types of cases.  Obviously, John is not basing his relationship in reality." Michael put his finger to his mouth, a common pose when he was thinking.  "We could talk to Mr. Crawford and ask him if he would question John in front of the judge.  You know, explain this would help everyone-  John would be mandated treatment and the judge would hear John's ‘logic'."

"If the court questioned John and also got a report of the incident, they would have a good picture of the situation."  Peter said as he nodded his head in agreement as he visualized the court appearance.  His only knowledge of the court system was based on tv. He knew real court did not work like that, but it made sense to him.  The heat kicked off as the apartment had reached its desired temperature.  They had the setting very low for night time, both to save money and to sleep better.  Cold was more inducive to good sleep. 

"True.  I hope you're right.  It's been a long day." Peter yawned and covered his mouth to hide it.  "Sorry, it isn't you."

Michael pulled Peter to him and gave him a hug.  "No worries.  I know this whole situation has been stressful for you.  While I deal with people who have mental health issues all day, none of them are my best friend.  You're torn between wanting to help John and denying there is a problem."

Peter nodded his head in agreement.  "I've accepted there is a problem; it's what to do about it that is the issue.  I know John doesn't think there is a problem so how do I help him when he doesn't think anything is wrong?"  Peter turned toward the night stand and grabbed the glass of water he kept by the bed.  Taking a drink and then placing the glass back on the coaster, he said, "and then there is Darren.  John asked me to go with him to talk to him.  How do I support John without breaking his confidence but still stress that there is a problem?"

"That would be tricky.  You're not a therapist so you aren't bound by the ethical dilemma of sharing the nature of the situation.  You can't tell, or should I say shouldn't tell Darren about the job interview."

"Jeez. The water just keeps getting deeper and my life raft is nowhere to be found."

"Maybe Darren has noticed the behavior and you can just share your insights into the situation."

"I hope you're right.  But for now, let's go to sleep." Peter reached out to the lamp by the bed and twisted the knob to turn it off.  Michael mirrored the action on his side of the bed, plunging the room into darkness.

The men moved their pillows from against the head board and placed them on the bed.  Michael lay on his side and Peter spooned against him from behind. After draping his arm around Michael, Peter gently kissed Michael's neck and closed his eyes, letting sleep take him.

In the morning, John and Peter headed out toward John's work.  They jumped on the subway and as usual the crowds were very thick, not allowing for any real conversation.  When they got out at their station, they had several blocks to walk until they came to John's business.

"Thanks for coming with me.  I'm going to have to give Darren some type of explanation regarding why I didn't check in sooner.  I don't really want to tell him that I was interviewing for a job." The wind blew leaves around the sidewalk giving the street a colorful back drop.

"Why don't you tell him that it took the company a few days to make up their mind?  You said they are a current customer, but that doesn't mean they accepted the pitch immediately," Peter said, suggesting a solution.  He knew this would be a difficult talk and hoped Darren wouldn't push too much.

"True.  But I should have called."

"Yes, you should.  What do you want to do?"

"Well, when I did call Darren, I said I'd been sick.  I guess I could go with that one."  A huge gust of wind blew right in their faces, almost like the weather was giving an opinion to the situation.

"True.  But what about your trip in a few days?  What are you going to say to that?" Peter was not trying to be combative, but rather trying to explore all possibilities so John would be prepared.  It was not every day that you went in to tell your boss that you were hospitalized by the police and you need to go back to the city so you can appear in court.  He didn't think John intended to share all that information with Darren, but he should make sure they had discussed what they were going to talk about.

"I'll tell him I got myself into a little legal trouble and have to go back for a court date.  It's true. I just don't understand why Justin would put a restraining order on me.  I mean, can you imagine Michael telling the courts he didn't want you near him?" The wind picked up again and John zipped up his coat.

Peter wanted to confront John with his delusions, but everything that he and Michael had talked about the night before had told him that it would be counterproductive.  He should try to ask John questions, hoping he could see the inconsistencies in his stories. He thought for a few moments before responding.

"Do you remember hugging him in the lobby of Kinnetik?" He knew the answer to this question, but decided it was a good start to the conversation.

"Of course.  I was so happy to see him." John smiled widely.  Peter was taken aback by the smile, never having seen such happiness on his friend's face.

"We're you surprised to see him there?  I mean he is an artist.  Why would he be there?" Peter had gained his trust and now he had to start the true questions.

"He was there to see Brian. Brian is his current partner."

Peter's ears perked up at this piece of information.  He knew that Brian Kinney owned Kinnetik and was Justin's partner, but he didn't think John knew that piece of information.  Maybe he'd finally found the key to their problems.

"How can Brian be his partner if you're his partner?" They stopped at the end of the block since the light was green.  They waited with all the other New Yorkers who walked the streets of this urban jungle.

"He was just with Brian until we could be together," John said, as if Peter's question was superfluous.  He thought that Peter knew the answer and wondered why he asked such a silly question.

"So Justin was cheating on Brian?" Peter hated that word, cheating.  It had all sorts of bad connotations.  Of course, by all definitions, cheating was bad, but some people had different versions of cheating.  There were some open relationships where some gay couples didn't look at sex with other men as cheating.  He never understood that concept and knew he would be devastated if Michael slept with another man.

"No, Justin wouldn't cheat.  He's too good a man to do that." John bristled at the words, knowing that cheating was deceitful and Justin wouldn't be deceitful.

"Can you tell me how he was with you and Brian if he wasn't cheating?" Peter pushed forward, hoping for the hole to open up and for John to finally realize that there was no explanation for the events besides the one everyone had been sharing; he was delusional. 

They were in front of the building where John's company was located.  John stopped walking and turned to Peter.  "He.... We..."  John saw a bus bench and walked toward it, sitting down.  Thankfully it was between rush hour and lunch time and there was no one in the shelter.  He put his hands to his face, scrubbing them up and down. Tears fell down his cheeks as he thought back to the events of the last month.  He'd been so sure that Justin belonged to him, with him. They were so happy and he was finally going to have what Michael and Peter had, a committed relationship.

"Justin isn't my boyfriend, is he?" he asked in a small plaintive voice.

Peter's heart broke seeing his friend so distraught and broken.  He wished he had Michael with him when this happened.  He would know what to do. 

"No, John.  He belongs with Brian.  Brian is his partner."

 "What do I do?"

Thoughts of all the things Michael and he had discussed in the last few days came flooding back.  He wasn't sure where to start and he knew this time was critical for John's recovery. 

"Let's just go and talk to Darren.  Tell him some things happened in Pittsburgh that you have to take care of.  You might need to be off for a week or two to get them addressed.  After we leave Darren, we can go see Michael.  I don't know what his schedule is today, but I'm sure we can see him during his lunch hour.  His office is only a few blocks away.  Lucky, he doesn't work on the other side of town." Peter wanted so badly to pull out his cell phone and call Michael on the spot. He wanted an answer, some way to help his friend, right at that moment.  He had to push down the urge to call Michael as they entered the building.

"Okay.  Thank you so much for being my friend." John seemed to shrink in the last few minutes.  He was like a child who had lost his favorite toy and in a way, this was true.

The two men went to see Darren, John's boss and while John was vague about his situation, he agreed to give him several weeks to take care of his problem.  He was friends with Peter and he understood that Peter's presence at the visit had some significance. 

"John.  Take care of your business.  You are a great employee and I would hate to lose you.  I don't know what is going on with you and you do not have to tell me, but Peter's presence here today tells me it is serious.  When you come back I want you at 100%."  Darren walked around his desk and shook John and Peter's hand.  He walked to the door and motioned for them to leave.

"That went easier than I thought it would," John said as they took the elevator down to the lobby.  "Let's go see Michael and hope he is free.  I need to get back on track."

They chose to walk to Michael's office. The day was sunny and the leaves were almost gone from the trees.  The time it would have taken to wait for the bus and to ride to the stop was more than it would take to walk.  Peter also thought that John could use the freedom.  He knew if they were in a bus, he wouldn't talk, but knew if they were walking, he might be willing to open up some more.

"Darren was great.  I'm so lucky to have him as my boss."  John pulled the zipper of his jacket up, trying to block the gust of wind that picked up as they started to walk.

"You're a valuable employee and Darren knows that.  I've known him for almost 7 years now and I know he's very fair."  Peter was beginning to have second thoughts regarding their decision to walk as the wind seemed to get really cold.  He pulled up the hood on his jacket and pulled the strings tight to block the cold air.

"I think he would have asked more if you hadn't been there.  I'm so glad you came." John shoved his hands in his pockets.

"Here is the building." Peter said as he pushed open the door to the lobby.  His office is on the second floor.  We can walk; it will be just as fast as the elevator.  Besides that elevator gives me the creeps.  I feel like I'm on the Tower of Terror at Disney every time I enter."

John laughed.  "I'm sure the elevator is not possessed by ghosts."

"No.  You're right.  It's just creepy." Peter was happy to hear his friend laugh, giving him hope that maybe this nightmare may have a happy ending.

They walked up to the second floor, turning left down the hall until they located Michael's office.  Walking in, Michael went up to the window and smiled at Caley, the receptionist.

"Hi Caley.  Is Michael free?"

Caley looked up at Peter, smiling at him.  She was always glad to see him as his arrival meant Michael would be in a good mood the rest of the day.  Not that Michael was really in a bad mood, but a visit from his partner always made him happy.

"He's with a patient, but he's almost done.  He has a break until 1:30," she said as she clicked on Michael's calendar on her desktop.

"I'll wait.  He wasn't expecting me."

"Okay.  When his patient leaves, I'll let him know you're here."

Peter joined John in one of the seats in the waiting room.  There were three other people sitting in the room.  There was a tv on in a corner broadcasting a cooking show. Peter remembered Michael saying they kept it on the cooking show as it was a very neutral show.  He didn't want his clients getting upset over the news or other events.  Who knew what talk shows would choose as appropriate topics these days and Michael said he and the other therapists that shared his office decided to keep everything controversial out of the public eye.  Of course, their patients were hungry when they left after being subjected to pictures of chef's creations, but that was a small price to pay for peace.

They watched the cooking show, choosing not to speak.  The chef was making some side dishes for Thanksgiving. 

"I think Thanksgiving is just another word for gluttony," John said.  "We used to start cooking several weeks before the big day.  I swear you'd think that no one had eaten in a week instead of breakfast that day.  There was so much food and my mom used to give most of it away to the relatives.  She always said there wasn't enough room in the fridge.  Honestly, I think she was afraid if she kept it, she'd eat it all."

"Thanksgiving was always small in my house.  I don't have a large family."

Before they could continue the conversation, Michael came out of the back offices and stood in front of the two men.

"Well, this is a surprise.  Come on back."  He motioned for John and Peter to go to his office.

Closing the door to his office, he motioned to the chairs and each man took a seat.  He went to his office chair and sat down.

"Can I get you any coffee?  Tea? Water?" He turned around to his credenza and poured a fresh cup of coffee into the mug that was next to the coffee pot.

"I need help," John said. 

Michael raised his eyebrow, but did not speak.  He tented his fingers and waited for John to continue.

"Peter and I were talking on the way to our visit with Darren.  He asked me if Justin would cheat on me.  Well actually he asked who Brian was and then when I told him he was Justin's boyfriend, Peter asked would Justin cheat.  I told him of course not, he's too good of a man to do that.  And I understood."

"I see."  Again, Michael did not start to ask questions or interrupt, waiting for John to talk.

"It feels so real.  You know.  Justin asking me to come visit him, being his model for his upcoming project.  The pictures of his dancing- just for me.  What can I do?"

"I think you would benefit from therapy, maybe some medication.  What do you think about that?"

"Okay.  I love Justin." John paused when he realized what he was saying.  "Well, I thought I loved Justin.  I want to figure this out." He looked down at his hands resting in his lap, unable to make eye contact with Michael.

"I've got some names of some therapists that I can recommend.  They are all very good." Michael reached into his drawer and opened his notebook, searching for the names of the therapists that he had been compiling.  Taking out a piece of paper, he wrote down three names and their phone numbers.

"Any of these therapists will be happy to work with you.  I know this will help with the court appearance as well.  They will see that you are addressing your problems."  He took a sip of his coffee and handed the paper to John.   "Call them today and make an appointment."

"Can't I just work with you?" he asked anxiously.  "I don't know any of these guys and I'd feel more comfortable with someone I know."  He folded the paper in quarters and stuck it in his jacket pocket.  He leaned forward in his chair, eager for Michael's response.

Michael shook his head. "No, I'm afraid not.  It wouldn't be ethical to treat you since I know you.  Besides, you want to please me as your friend and that isn't how therapy is supposed to work.  You need to work with the therapist for yourself."

"Okay.  I'll call when I get home.  Thanks." He leaned back, slightly defeated but able to make eye contact, albeit only for a few moments.

"You're welcome.  Just remember, you can work through this." Peter said.  "While Michael can't treat you, we are still your friends and can support you." He leaned over and gave his friend a hug.

Small tears ran down John's face and he wiped them with his hand.  "I better get going.  I've got some phone calls to make."  He stood up and walked to the door.  "Thanks for today, Peter.  I'll never be able to repay you."

"I'll see you at home.  You're going back to our place?" Peter asked.

"Yeah. I think I need you around for a while.  Besides, we have a road trip to make in two days." John walked out the door and retraced his route from the morning.  This time he took the bus as it was getting even colder.  As promised he was at Peter and Michael's home when Michael returned from his errands.

Peter walked in the door later that afternoon, pulled off his gloves and hung his coat on the rack.  He shivered involuntarily. "It's gotten really cold out there.  Wish I was inside all afternoon like you."

John looked up from the book he was reading and smiled.   "Glad you're here.  I called the first therapist on the list and I'm seeing him tomorrow. His receptionist gave me an appointment quickly when I mentioned Michael. Otherwise, it would have been next week. Thank you again for today."

"Good.  I'm going to take a shower to warm up and then I guess I'll start dinner."  Peter started toward their bedroom, but stopped before he walked through.  "I'm proud of you John."

"Thanks.  Now go get clean.  I think we should make spaghetti and meatballs in celebration.  I'm going to tackle this, thanks to you guys."

Peter closed the door behind him and readied himself for his shower.  He was thankful the day had turned out so well and just hoped that John's treatment was just as successful.  Tomorrow he would return to work and then they would leave for Pittsburgh. He was cautiously optimistic about the outcome now that John realized he was delusional.

TBC

Brian went to work as Justin slept in the strange bed.  They had made love several times the night before; Brian hoping to wear Justin out so he would actually sleep.  Brian held Justin in his arms, spooned behind his partner as they both fell asleep at the Signature Suites. 

Justin's hunger woke him.  A glance at the clock told him it was after 10:00 and they had eaten dinner about 7:00 the previous evening.  It took a few moments for him to remember he was in the hotel and not at home where he could just go to the kitchen and grab a bagel or pour himself a bowl of cereal.   <i> This is really inconvenient.  I either have to order take out service or take a shower and get dressed and find a place to eat.</i>

He picked up the phone and dialed Italian Village Pizza.

"I'm in the Signature Suites.  Do you deliver here?"

"Yes Sir.  What can I get you?"

"I'll have a pepperoni pizza with garlic cheese bread.  Please deliver that to 2 Kentucky Avenue. Thanks," Justin said as he hung up the phone.  "Damn, I could have just taken my shower and gone somewhere for as long as it's going to take," he said out loud to no one in the room.  He walked to the bathroom and turned on the water for his shower.  After dressing, he took out his phone, swiped to Daphne's familiar icon and tapped twice, dialing the number.

"Hi.  You're in luck.  My 11:00 cancelled so I have a few minutes to chat.  How are you?"  She walked to the edge of her office, closing the big wooden door.

"I'm in town.  Brian moved us to the Signature Suites yesterday," Justin said the statement without inflection in his voice.  He sat at the kitchen table, looking at the top of the line appliances, the stainless shining in the bright day light.   The sleek designs of the furniture with their neutral palette of browns and tans were still fashionable and made him feel like he was at someone's home rather than a hotel.  He didn't want to contemplate the cost of this. He'd finally accepted that Brian had enough money that the expense of the current crisis wouldn't impact their financial stability, but it still boggled his mind when he thought about the cost of such high end short term accommodations. 

"He did what?" Daphne asked, almost yelling into the phone.  "I mean I know you said you wanted to move, but I figured it wouldn't be the next day.  How'd he do that?" Daphne turned toward her desk and typed in Signature Suites.  She clicked on a few links on the page and was impressed, but not surprised.  "Leave it to Brian to move in a day."

"Daph, it's not like that.  He's not some mad man."  He quickly defended his partner, even though he knew that Daphne usually sided with Brian.  Unlike "the family" who still put Brian at fault in so many instances, Daphne's support of both of them was unwavering.   "He understood how uncomfortable I felt at Britin.  He suggested we relocate to the Suites for a little bit.  He knows that it will take some time to find a new place and to pack up the house, so he suggested we come here in the interim."  Justin's voice sped up and rose in level as he spoke. Explaining their situation; trying to make his friend understand that Brian was just watching out for him.  He hated when people put a stereotype on Brian or the things they did.  Michael was often a culprit in this area, questioning if Brian could afford to buy Gus the latest game for his X Box or high end furnishing for Britin.

"Calm down, Jus," Daphne spoke in her soft counselor voice, realizing she had sparked Justin's ire.  "I know Brian would do anything for you.  Remember I've known him for a long time and watched him care for you after your accident a few years ago." 

Daphne was nodding her head as she remembered all the little things Brian did to make Justin's recovery a success. He hadn't pushed Justin to live with him immediately after the accident when Justin didn't remember that they were still together.  This act of kindness hurt Brian deeply since he'd finally accepted they were a couple and was no longer denying their relationship.  Brian handled that difficult time with aplomb and he dealt with Justin's moods and amnesia, accepting that Justin had no control over his mind and was doing his best to improve.

"Okay. Okay, Sorry.  I just ...." Daphne waited while Justin gathered his thoughts.

"It all happened so fast.  I'm just not sure that it was the right thing to do.  I mean there are all kinds of problems."  Justin ran his hand through his hair, pushing his bangs off his forehead. 

"You're not sure you want to move," Daphne said, trying for clarification.  She sat very quietly in her therapist chair, switching to her therapist voice without conscious effort.

"I want to move...  Well I don't want to stay." Justin put one foot underneath him as he sat in the dark wooden kitchen chair. 

"So staying is uncomfortable."  She repeated the idea for clarification, not because she didn't hear him.

"Yes.  I was beginning to fear what might happen next.  The therapist, I think his name was Sam... maybe, coming to the door and talking to Brian just really threw me."  He frowned as he remembered the discussion in their living room, reliving those feelings.

"You didn't like him coming to your house."

"Right." Justin heard a knock on the door announcing the pizza arrival.

"Hold on, Daphne."  He walked into the room, got his wallet and pulled out money for the young man. Opening the pizza box, inhaling the aroma, he smiled as his stomach growled loudly.  He locked the door behind him, taking the pizza to the table.

"I'm back.  Food arrived and I'm starving."

Daphne looked at her clock and then clicked on her appointment calendar. 

"I don't have an appointment until 2:00.  You're just a few blocks from my office.  What room are you in?  I'll join you."

 "Great.  I'm sure Brian would not appreciate the left over pizza in the fridge. He'd eat it but then I'd have to listen to him bitch about all the carbs it has. I'm in 2 Kentucky Avenue.  I'll see you in a few.  I want to check in with Brian. The pizza is waiting."  He closed the pizza box to keep it warm and texted Brian.  "I'm awake.  Daph joining me for pizza. Love you."

Brian texted back. "Good.  Don't want to come home to leftover pizza in the fridge.  I'd have to spend several hours at the gym. Or.... I could add a few rounds of pounding your ass into the mattress tonight.  Maybe you should leave some pizza."

"You could just pound my ass without the pizza."  Justin texted.

"Later." Brian texted.

"Later." Justin texted.

Daphne shut down her computer and put on her scarf and coat, locking her door behind her.  The apartment suite was only a few blocks away and she would normally walk, but the wind was cold and she was anxious to see Justin so she hailed a cab.  There were definitely advantages to living and working in the city.

She walked to the building and was impressed.  It was a red brick house and fit naturally into the neighborhood.  If someone wasn't familiar with the area, they would never know this was a hotel.  She walked into the building and noticed several large doors with plaques designating them as part of the hotel properties.  She searched for # 2 and knocked on the door.

Justin opened the door and gave her a big hug.  He ushered her into the luxury room.  Her mouth opened wide as she viewed the space.  It was a large apartment and well appointed.  Stainless steel appliances filled the high end kitchen.   The living room had high ceilings and tall windows filling the room with light.  There were hard wood floors and even a fireplace. 

"It's a shame it isn't a studio.  There is so much light here.  I know you would love to paint here," she said as she saw the light fill the room from the partially opened drapes.  "I wouldn't mind living here.  Is there a second bedroom?" she teased.

Justin smiled at her playfulness and was thankful again how lucky he was to have her in his life.  She'd been a friend since childhood and as friends went she was the best.  She always supported him and she had become a friend to his partner.  That was worth a lot.  There were many in their "family" that hadn't always supported him and Brian as a couple, but Daphne had stood by them from the beginning. 

"This one only has one bedroom.  I don't think Brian would relish you sleeping on the couch. We've had enough disruption to our lives," Justin said half in jest and half truthfully.

Daphne chose to ignore the comment and inhaled deeply.  "I smell pizza and I'm starving.  I overslept this morning and didn't eat breakfast."

Justin got out plates, placing them on the table while Daphne cut the pie into half. She placed two pieces on her plate and three on Justin's.  They each ate about a half slice before acknowledging the other person. 

"Ok.  Your belly is no longer empty, talk to me."

Justin smiled his best sheepish grin at his best friend.  "You know me so well."

"Of course, I do.  That is why I know there is more to this moving to the city than you're telling me.  Why don't you start at the beginning?"

"Well... you were there a few nights ago when I said I wanted to move."

"I remember.  I'm not senile." Daphne remembered the silence in the room when Justin dropped that bomb shell. She remembered Brian's wide eyes and open mouth after Justin's announcement. She didn't think Brian could have been more surprised.

"You left and Brian and I started talking.  Basically he said if I want to move, we would."

"Brian supported your request." She turned toward Justin, listening as a therapist and not his friend. 

"Yes, but it happened so fast, I'm not sure I really thought it through. The next thing I knew we were here. We left a lot, only took the essentials, but my studio is at Britin.  I couldn't realistically take it with me but, it's a part of me and leaving my art is like severing a piece of my body." Justin looked out the windows of the kitchen, watching the traffic outside. It was lunch time and there were a lot of cars on the road, people presumably making their way to a quick lunch before returning to their jobs. "Finding a new place to paint is complicated.  The space has to have good light, but also certain Karma. I know that may sound really strange, but a studio is personal, it's more than a place to work."

"Britin is not just the physical space of home; it's where you create your art." 

"Right," he said as he smiled, happy that she recognized the problem. Justin turned back to Daphne admiring the suite of rooms, the neutral colors painted deeply to give some personality to the room.  The decorator understood the need of the occupants to feel at ease in this temporary place. He just wished he felt calm.

"He bought Britin for me, his prince.  I can't just let that gesture be forgotten.  I have so many fond memories of Britin and I really don't think I want to leave.  I just..." Justin stopped talking; trying to put into words his jumbled thoughts. "I love Britin; but the therapist showing up at our door freaked me out. But leaving Britin means leaving my studio."  He took a deep breath, trying to ease the tension in his shoulders and neck.  He hoped the conversation with Daphne would help him figure this whole situation out.

"Britin is your home and your studio is your work.  You weren't feeling safe at home, but leaving it means leaving your art." She took a drink of her soda, placing the can on the table. 

 Justin's eyes opened wide at that statement, finally understanding his conflict with leaving. "Yeah.  I'm abandoning who I am.  Brian just let me walk away from my identity." Justin listened as he ate the last bite of his pizza and washed it down with a big gulp of soda.

"So you're angry at Brian, but you're thankful to Brian for listening to your fears and taking you away."  She sat up straight in her chair and spoke softly. 

"You're amazing.  How did you get all that from just a few statements.  I've been trying to think about this all morning-   well in fact all day yesterday too, but just couldn't figure it out."  He smacked his finger tips on the table emphasizing his point.  "Boom.  You're here and in less than 5 minutes you figure it all out."

Daphne wasn't here to stroke her ego; she was here to help her friend so she ignored the accolades. 

"I guess I am angry at Brian.  Wow! I didn't see that coming.  How can I be angry at him for doing what I asked him to do?"

"Anger doesn't have to make sense.  It's an emotion, just like love, fear, happiness.  They key is figuring out what to do with the anger." She smiled at her friend, pleased that all her years of training and practice were helpful.  It didn't hurt any that she knew Justin so well and understood some of his struggles even if he wasn't able to articulate them.  She looked around the room, seeing the few pieces of art that were hung on the wall. They were nice, but nothing like the art that Justin produced.  Justin communicated so much feeling through his pieces.  If he stopped painting it would be a loss for him but also for the world.

"Help me understand"

"Leaving Britin takes you away from your fears, but it also means leaving a part of yourself behind- your art."

Justin placed another piece of pizza on his plate. He motioned to Daphne to see if she wanted another one.  She shook her head, no.  There were two pieces left.  

"That's an evil smile," Daphne said as she watched Justin place the pizza box in the fridge.

"Something Brian said to me about left over pizza and how I would have to pay for leaving any in the fridge." Justin blushed slightly. <i>Brian uses any excuse to get me into bed, not that he needs to justify our sex life.  I find it amusing that Brian still pretends its punishment.</i>

"TMI.  I really don't want you to explain that statement."

"Brian said I don't have to make any decisions.  I can go to the studio, even take people with me so I won't be alone.  Em loves to cook and is envious of the kitchen.  He's always willing to come out for the afternoon and whip up some new recipe. Michael could spend hours gaming in our media room.  Brian keeps it stocked with videos and X-box games for Gus.  My mom would love the peace and quiet.  With Molly and her brood almost next door, she rarely has a few hours of solitude."  He ticked off each person's name as he touched a finger, and then closed his hand into a soft fist. He was trying to defend Brian's actions, attempting to take back his earlier criticism.

"So Brian takes your art away by moving you to the city and then gives it back to you by telling you to take people with you to the studio.  You don't know if he wants you to paint or wants you to do something else."  She takes a last bite of her second piece of pizza and chews softly as she looks at Justin.

"Brian is always behind me.  He supports everything I do.  My career is important to him- just like Kinnetik is important to me."  Justin said, defending his partner.  He sat up straight and got a very determined look on his face. He put down his slice of pizza and looked around, seeing the inviting rooms, not some fancy hotel room with its glitz and glamour.  This place felt like someone's home and he knew that was Brian's hope- this place was his new home.  "He brought us here to make me feel safe.  He would never do anything to hurt me."

"Are you safe, Justin?" Daphne asks, trying to get Justin to explore his feelings. She took her plate to the sink, washing off the crumbs and placing it in the dishwasher. 

"Yes.  No.  I don't know.  I mean I'm surrounded by people here, not alone in a big house in the country.  But could I get a package from a deranged fan here?  Yes-  we would have to get our mail, even if we got a P.O. box.  Could someone come to our door?  Sure, but we are closer to police.   I'm not sure what safety is."  Justin said as he tried to put his thoughts in perspective.  He stood up and walked to the window, looking out at the street. There were people walking on the sidewalk and many cars on the road.  On either side of the hotel, there were businesses and he knew if he walked out his front door, there were other occupants of the hotel living in the same building.  "This place is busy, people are all around.  Would someone even notice a person acting unusual?  What would unusual be?  I mean we are in the heart of Pittsburgh."

 She washed her hands, getting rid of the remnants of pizza sauce and crust crumbs. "What does being safe mean to you?" She asked quietly, hoping he could sort out his feelings.  She understood that he couldn't move forward with his life until he figured out what he wanted to do.

"You do ask the tough questions."  Justin returned to the living area and sat on the couch.  He fluffed a pillow, placing it at his back.

"Can you tell me when you feel safe?"  Daphne joined him in the living room but sat at the other end of the couch, her body facing his.

"I feel safe when Brian is around."  Justin smiled at the mention of his partner.  His body appeared to relax as well.

"Brian isn't here now.  Do you feel fear?"  Daphne took a pillow from the couch and put it at her back as well.  The couch looked comfortable, but the back appeared deep and she needed the pillow to sit comfortably.

"No.  You're here."  Justin closed his eyes as he gathered his thoughts.  "I feel safe with people I know."

"So you don't feel safe at galleries?"  Daphne pushed with more questions.  She was hoping to help Justin pin point his feelings.

"I feel safe at galleries.  It's where I work.  I would be a really bad artist if I couldn't go where my work is shown."  Justin giggled at the absurdity of the question.

"So you feel safe with Brian and with people you know and at galleries since that is where your art is displayed."  Daphne repeated back Justin's statements, waiting for him to identify where he didn't feel safe.

"But Brian isn't at Britin all day; he's working and I have to be there alone."

"You're afraid at Britin."

"This is crazy."  Justin wrung his hands and then scrubbed his face with them.  "I love Britin.  I can't be afraid of my own home.  What the fuck!   This makes no sense."  Justin jumped up from the couch, pacing the living area.  He was pleased that it was much larger than a typical hotel room as he would have felt like a caged animal in there.  After walking the area for a few laps, he sat in the brown and white upholstered chair in the living room, looking around at the pristine furniture.  Even if this was supposed to be his home, he suddenly felt very out of place. 

Daphne's heart went out to her friend.  She recognized that she was pushing him to address his fears; probably way sooner than he was expecting.  She knew that staying here was not really what Justin wanted or needed.  Sometimes Brian's money was a hindrance.  Normal people would not have had the means to up and relocate in a day. They would have had time to pack, to locate a temporary home, to think over their decision.  But Brian being the man of action that he was, didn't have to wait, didn't have to plan; he just made a few phone calls and the move was a fait accompli.  Only problem was it wasn't a fait accompli in Justin's head.  It was still an idea and he was still grappling with its ramifications.

"You love Britin, its where your studio is, where you live and you don't want to be afraid when you are home."

"I have to live.  I need to paint. Brian moved us here to protect me, but I'm not me if I can't paint.  Doesn't he understand that I can't be me if I don't create?"  He asked, but didn't really expect Daphne to answer.  He was working through his feelings, exactly what Daphne was aiming for.

"You're angry at Brian for relocating you but you're pleased because he listened to your fears.  You don't know which emotion to follow."  Daphne wanted to get up and sit closer to him, pull him into a hug and tell him everything was going to be fine, but she knew that was unproductive.  Sometimes being a therapist was difficult, especially when you were dealing with friends.  It was hard to separate the therapy from the friendship; deciding which one needed to take precedence during conversations like the one today. 

"Yes.  It seemed like every day there was a new crisis in my life.  First it was the pictures, then the interview, then the stalker coming into Brian's office.  Now the court date is in a few days and you've encouraged me to stay away.  I seem to be going from one crisis to another."

"You define yourself as an artist, yet you cannot create."

"No one can create like that." Justin sat way back on the chair, crumpling his body in defeat. His shoulders rounded and his head faced down toward his lap.

"You could create if your life settled down." Daphne said, hating her role as therapist at the moment when all she wanted to do was to make a large bowl of popcorn and watch sappy movies. The spent many evenings when they were in high school dreaming about their future lives based on watching the media's version of an idyllic world. Little did they realize that stalkers, car accidents and society pressures would intrude on their teenage visions.  

"Probably."  Justin bit his lip a little as he thought about what he wanted to say.  "I guess there will always be challenges.  Life is messy.  Just too many events too close together and it's thrown me." He looked at Daphne as he answered, but still slumped in his seat.

"Do you want to paint Justin?"

"Of course.  It's who I am.  I can't Not paint. It's like telling me not to breathe." Justin pushed himself up and sat a little straighter.

"Do you want to paint right now?"

"No.  Maybe after the court date." He said without pondering his answer.  When he realized that he'd answered quickly, he smiled a gentle smile. 

"Is Brian pushing you to paint?"

"Not really.  He just thought if I had a change in venue, I might want to paint. But he's told me that if I never painted again, it would be fine.  He doesn't need me to paint; he wants me to be happy doing whatever I want to do."  Talking about his partner in a positive manner changed his body language.  He felt the tension leave his body and his shoulders relax.  His eyes were soft and filled with love as was his face and smile.  He seemed to light up the room. 

Daphne noticed the change in demeanor and was thrilled that Justin appeared to have made a break through.  He was no longer the angry, confused man she greeted just a short time ago.  She wanted to finish the conversation before she had to return to her office, so continued on in her questioning. "Is there a need to go to Britin right now?"

"No.  When I'm ready to paint, I will go.  That is where I want to paint.  I just don't want to paint right now." Justin got out of the chair and hugged Daphne.  "I'm not angry at Brian; he only wanted the best for me.  I don't have to lose my studio if I'm not ready to paint right now.  I can return when I'm ready.  I really don't want to leave Britin, I just needed to leave my painting.  It seems so clear when you ask the right questions."

She returned the hug, giving him a kiss on his cheek as well.  Releasing him, she said, "It's late.  I need to get back to the office.  I'll call you tomorrow.  It's my day off.  We can do something."

"Great.  Right now, I think I'm going to take a cab to Kinnetik, pay a certain someone a visit.  Show him my gratitude for his belief in me." Justin waggled his  eyebrows and licked his lips.

The evil grin and mischievousness that was so typical of Justin was back in full force and Daphne was happy to see this expression on his face.  It had been a long time since she saw the playfulness come out in Justin.  She realized that Brian was  smarter than she gave him credit for; leaving Britin was exactly what Justin needed.  He needed permission to put his painting on hold for the time being.  Living at Britin just reminded him of his inability to create and this was causing him even more distress.  Unconsciously Brian understood the pressures of their home and used Justin's unease to help him. 

"I'm sure he will appreciate the visit."  Daphne gathered her scarf and purse and left with a smile on her face.  She was happy she had helped Justin make sense of his actions.  She only hoped that his resolve to paint after the court date would be realistic.  Too long with no direction would be difficult for all parties.

TBC

Daphne left Justin's suite and walked back to her office feeling thankful that Justin now seemed to be comfortable with the direction in his life.   She reviewed the last few weeks and was amazed that Justin had functioned as well as he had.  Like he said, it had been one thing after another for several weeks and now the culminating event- the court date was set for next week.  She understood that even after the court date, life would not return to normal immediately.  Justin and Brian still had to process what had happened.  It probably wouldn't return to their "normal" until after Justin's show and that wasn't for a few weeks away.

She remembered that lunch they shared a few weeks ago where Justin and her had talked about the possibility of him becoming a parent.  Justin had been adamant that this door was closed since Brian did not want to be a full time father.  She wondered if the last few weeks would change Justin's mind.  True, he had to deal with a fan turned stalker, to the point where the man thought he was in a relationship with him, but on the other hand he saw how Brian's trust and support never wavered.  Brian was doing everything in his power to protect Justin. She wondered if they even talked about the child issue.  When all of this was a distant memory, she thought she might revisit the topic with him. She felt he would make a great father and loved watching him with Gus and other children. 

Why that conversation and lunch had re-entered her mind, she was unsure, but it was her belief that nothing was random; all thoughts had a purpose- people just didn't understand the purpose at the time.   She passed a large LED clock on a billboard and realized she better hurry or she would be late to her appointment.

Justin took the pizza box and walked outside to the dumpster to dispose of it. The left over two pieces had been placed in a zip lock bag on a shelf.  He knew Brian was only half joking about the pizza being left in the apartment. Brian was still as meticulous about his appearance as he'd been when they first met.  Now, of course, age had begun its assault on his body, but as a result of his diligence, the small lines around his eyes were the only sign that he'd grown older.  His mind was still just as sharp, his wit just as quick and his opinions were just as strong.  Justin often wondered what type of man Brian would have been had he had a different childhood; but it was a moot point.  He'd fallen in love with this Brian and if he'd had a different childhood, then he wouldn't be the same man.  Despite Brian having a shitty childhood and building the walls around his emotions so high, Justin was thankful that Brian persevered and grew up to be the magnificent man who was his partner.  Brian's generosity had landed him in these spacious and well-appointed rooms, away from his studio separated from its constant reminder of his inability to create.  Brian knew him so well and he understood Brian.  He often thought he was the only one who truly "got" him, but he was okay with that since he was privileged to see the unmasked Brian, the wonderful man he was in love with and who showed him true and unconditional love.

He wanted to thank Brian and hoped he was free for a little interruption this afternoon.  He could not think of anything better to do than to surprise his partner for a quick tryst.  His smile widened when he envisioned himself giving Brian a quick blow job and then being turned around, hands against Brian's desk as he plowed into his tight ass.  He felt himself get very hard as he imagined what he hoped would be happening in the next hour.  But before that could happen, he had to get to Kinnetik.  The weather had turned cold and the wind blew strongly; therefore, Justin decided to take a cab rather than walk or take the bus. 

Hailing a cab, he arrived at Kinnetik a short 10 minutes later.  Walking into the building, he blew on his hands to warm them up as he'd left his gloves in his other coat.  Even if he wasn't going to paint, he might go back to Britin to pick up a few items.  Walking up to the reception desk, he spoke with Sally, asking if Brian was free.  Before she could answer, Cynthia came into the lobby.

"Justin.  I wasn't expecting you.  Everything okay?" She asked as she looked at him, trying to see any signs of distress.

"Everything's fine.  I just thought I'd surprise Brian.  Is he free?"  The mischievousness in his voice could be heard and she smiled.

"He's not with anybody at the moment and he just finished a conference call.  He's got a 4:00 with the art department, but that gives you at least an hour or more to take care of things," she said smiling, acknowledging she understood that surprise really meant sex.

Justin blushed slightly and said, "Thank you.  Can you hold his calls?"

Sally started to say something, but Cynthia stopped her.  "Of course, Justin.  Don't forget to lock the door."

Sally looked at Cynthia in confusion and then turned bright red when she realized the meaning of surprise.  She knew that Justin and Brian were partners and had been experiencing some difficult times, but she would have never thought her boss would be so bold as to do "that". 

Justin walked into Brian's office and Brian did not look up.  He said, "I told you I was not to be disturbed.  Whatever it is, unless someone is dying, close the door and do not disturb me," he grumbled.

"Okay.  I'm dying to be fucked by you.  Does that count?"

Brian looked up from his work and hit save on his computer.  He put down his pencil and moved the papers on his desk to the side. 

"I think that can be arranged.  Why don't you lock the door and pull the blinds?  Wouldn't want an audience."

"You like audiences. Seems to me the backroom..."

"Shut up and come here.  I'm dying to fuck you too."

Justin did as Brian requested and they enjoyed an afternoon delight.  As Brian put his clothing back in place, he looked at his partner trying to judge his mental state.

"To what do I owe this impromptu visit?  Not that I'm complaining, but I didn't expect to see you until this evening." 

Justin finished pulling his hoodie over his head and walked over to the couch, sitting down on the soft brown cushions.

"Daphne came over this afternoon, shared some pizza." Justin patted the seat next to him, indicating he wanted Brian to join him.

"I know.  I hope this means there isn't pizza in the fridge," Brian said tongue in cheek.

"Well, there are a few pieces left," Justin said as he smiled mischievously.

Brian looked at the clock on the wall, seeing he only had about 20 minutes until he needed to get ready for his next appointment.  "I've love to play 20 questions with you Justin, but I really don't have time."

Justin nodded his head in understanding and took a deep breath, trying to put his thoughts into a shorter version of the conversation at lunch.

"Daphne and I talked over lunch.  She helped me realize that I really don't want to move, but that I don't want to be reminded of my inability to do my art right now.  I was really mad at you because you moved us, but then I realized that I'm not mad at you, I'm thankful that you realized how difficult it was for me to face my creative block."

Brian listened and then tried to untangle the ideas.  "So you really don't want to move.  You just don't want to be by your studio right now.  Your studio reminds you of your inability to paint and that hurts."

"Yeah.  Daphne is really smart.  I'm lucky to have her as a friend."

"So, I don't need to call your mom and have her start looking for a new home for us?"

"Nope.  Mom doesn't need to intervene.  Just give me time, Brian.  I know I have a show in a few weeks.  I have enough pieces right now; you said so yourself.  I don't know when I'll be ready to paint again."  Justin rubbed his hands over his face in frustration.  "Knowing doesn't make the problem any easier to accept."

Brian leaned over and kissed him on the forehead and gave him a brief hug.

"Whatever you need, Sunshine.  I'll be here for you."  Brian wanted to lay them both down on the couch, to hold his partner and provide the reassurance he knew he wanted, but the knock on the door brought him back to the present.

"Seems like our time is up.  I've got this meeting and then I will try and wrap it up for the day.  Let's go to the Chinese place on the corner for dinner."

"Sounds like a plan."  Justin leaned forward and gave Brian a kiss on the lips.  Standing up from the couch, he made sure his clothing was back in place.  He knew Sally and Cynthia had a good idea of what they were doing in Brian's office, but he really didn't want to advertise his afternoon activities to all of Kinnetik.

Walking to the door of Brian's office suite, he unlocked the door and turned toward his partner.

"Later."

"Later," Brian said in response and smiled.

Justin left the office and walked to the lobby where he hailed a cab to take him back to the suites.

A week later

Today was the day.  The day of reckoning.  That sounded too formidable, like some religious text or sermon, but for John Scott, Peter Helio, Michael Strong, Brian Kinney and Justin Taylor it was a day in court.  A day to hopefully sort out the last month of stalking and see an end to everyone's unease.

John, Peter and Michael had arrived the night before and had checked into a local hotel near the court house.  They spent the evening in the hotel, watching tv and talking.

"Do you think the judge will put me in jail?  I know what I did was wrong and I'm in therapy now." John asked Michael as they sat on the two beds in the room.  "I know a part of me still thinks that Justin is my boyfriend, but I realize that isn't the case. Surely the courts will understand that I wasn't thinking right."

Michael took a drink of his Sam Adams beer. They had picked up a 6 pack on their way back from dinner. "I'm not a lawyer, John, but your lawyer, Alan, thinks you won't go to jail.  You do understand there is a restraining order against you.  You can't go see Justin or have any interaction with him."

John nodded his head in understanding.  "It all seemed so real."

Peter came out of the bathroom and sat beside his friend on the bed.  He turned and gave him a hug.  "We know, but I'm glad you realize it isn't.  We're here for you."

"I know."  John yawned.  "I guess speculation isn't going to do anything.  I think I'll try to get some sleep. He stood up and pulled out his key card to his room.  "You guys sleep well.  See you in the morning."  He walked to the door and went to his room where he spent the rest of the evening.

"What do you think will happen tomorrow?" Peter asked Michael as they sat on the bed next to each other.

"I talked to Alan a few days ago.  Seems the court is on John's side.  He has no legal history and no history of Mental Health issues prior to this.   I think the court will make sure he understands about the restraining order, make him pay the court costs and be done.  The courts have so many serious crimes to contend with that they probably won't do anything here.  Not to say that what John did wasn't serious, but he didn't kidnap Justin nor did he hold a gun to his head.  No one was visibly hurt by his actions- just mentally.  I feel sorry for Justin.  He did nothing wrong and is the victim of this invisible crime.  When people read about a robbery or shooting, there is actual tangible evidence.  This is a crime of the mind, much harder for people to wrap their heads around."  Michael clicked off the tv and walked to the sink to gather his toothbrush and toothpaste.  He placed some toothpaste on his brush and put the toothbrush on the sink.  "We don't have a crystal ball and we could speculate for hours what the court will decide tomorrow or we could enjoy this tiny respite from the drama. I vote for the respite."  He picked up his toothbrush and begun brushing his teeth. 

Peter came up from behind, wrapping his arms around Michael's waist and squeezing gently.  He let his hands slide down until they reached his pants and then started unbuttoning and unzipping them.

Michael quickly finished brushing his teeth and turned around.  "I like the way you think."  He kissed his partner and slapped him on the butt.  "I'll turn down the bed while you finish up in here." He pointed to the bed and then to the sink. 

Peter smiled and watched his partner walk toward the bed in the room.  He quickly finished in the bathroom and joined Michael for an evening respite from  all the angst.

Justin and Brian finished the last 10 minutes of the movie.  "What did you think? Was it as good as the original?  I mean Spider Man has been made 3 times in the last 20 years," Justin asked Brian as he turned off the tv.

"I'm kind of biased to Toby McGuire."

Justin hit his arm playfully.  "And here I thought you were biased to me."

"I am."  Brian lunged for Justin on the couch and began tickling him.  Justin squirmed from the assault as he laughed.  He reached for Justin's shirt, pulling it quickly over his head.  He lunged for Justin's nipple, attacking it with gusto.  Justin leaned back on the couch and let Brian feast. 

"Mmm.  I guess you are biased toward me." He stroked Brian's head in appreciation.

They stripped off their clothes and made love on the couch.  As their bodies cooled and returned to normal temperature, they reached for their clothing and got dressed.

"Thanks," Justin said as he zipped his pants.

"You make it sound like this was a chore.  You don't need to thank me for something I enjoy." Brian buttoned his jeans and pulled Justin toward him, resting his back between his legs. 

"For the distraction.  Watching the movie..."

"Did it help?"

"A little, but I appreciate the thought." Justin leaned back into Brian and raised his face toward his partner, hoping for a kiss.

Brian did not disappoint.  He kissed him gently on the lips.

"You okay?" Brian asked, knowing the answer to the question was no, but feeling that he had to ask anyway.

"I am actually.  It should be over tomorrow.  We've been in limbo the last few weeks.  I haven't been able to paint and just spend my days finding stuff to do. Thanks for having  me come to Kinnetik to consult on the latest Eyeconic account.  It brings back fond memories."

"I needed your input. There was something wrong and I couldn't figure out what it was," Brian said as he smiled, glad Justin was facing away from him.  He did appreciate the help from Justin and he knew what the problem was with the ad, but having Justin in the office solved many problems, including how to keep his partner busy for a few days.

"Are we going to the court house?  I don't think I could stand waiting to hear the outcome.  I want to be there."

"If you want to go, we'll go.  Are you sure?  I mean it will mean seeing the stalker again."  Brian caressed Justin's arms as he spoke.  The feather light touches soothing as they were loving.

"He can't hurt me in court.  I think I need to hear with my own ears what transpires.  I'll feel more comfortable."

"Okay.  We'll go."

"Do you need to call Cynthia or Ted?  Tell them you won't be in," Justin asked, worried as usual that Brian was neglecting his company for him.

"No.  I told them a few days ago I wouldn't be available."

Justin smiled and turned around and kissed Brian solidly on the mouth.  This time he moved to his knees and wrapped his arms around Brian's neck.  "You so lovveeee me."

"I do indeed."  Brian said and kissed Justin back.  "Let's move this to the bedroom. The couch may be comfortable, but I prefer a nice big bed for you to show your appreciation."

Justin and Brian retired to the bedroom for the night.

Court room

The judge called John's lawyer Alan to the bench.

"How does your client plead, counselor?"

"He pleads guilty.  Let the court record show that my client has voluntarily entered into counseling to address his behavior.  We ask the court's leniency in this case.  It is a first offense and my client understands the significance of his actions.  He has agreed to have no further contact with the victim."

The judge picked up the papers on his desk, perusing them as he read the charges and the history in the case.  Nodding his head, he put down the papers.

"Does the defendant understand that if the court hears of any changes in his behavior, he will be brought back to these chambers for further legal action?"

"Yes your honor, he does.  He has promised to have no contact with the victim in the future."

"The defendant is fined $500.00 and the restraining order remains in effect indefinitely.  Case dismissed."  The judge pounded his gavel on the desk.

Justin looked at Brian.  "That's it.  $500 fine and a promise to not bother me again?"

"Yep. You okay with that?"

Justin thought for a few moments and nodded.  "He scared me and he scared you but thankfully he didn't really hurt anyone.  He's in treatment.  That's got to count for something."

Brian nodded but his face held a grimace.

"Brian, it's not like Hobbes.  I don't have permanent brain damage from the incident.  They guy has mental issues.  He's sick.  Those therapist friends of his promised he would get treatment and that is what is happening.  Let's go home."

Brian placed his hand on Justin's lower back, guiding him out of the court house.  On the way out, they passed Peter and Michael.  Brian and Justin both nodded their head in acknowledgement of the two men.

"He won't bother you again," Peter said.  "We'll watch him."

Neither Justin nor Brian said a word.  They walked to their car and drove back to the Suites.

TBC

Justin got in the car and buckled his seat belt while Brian situated himself in the driver's seat.  Neither man spoke but it was obvious that both were preoccupied with their own thoughts.  Brian wasn't sure if Justin would want to talk about the judge's decision or if he should leave the topic alone.  His mouth held a tight grimace, unwilling to voice his disappointment, fearing his words would upset Justin, but he was angry. The world had injured his partner yet again. 

It was different this time.  Justin was still a victim, hurt by another man's actions, but he wouldn't have months of therapy to recover and there would be no residual loss of functioning like there had been after the bashing. Justin wouldn't have hand cramps, panic attacks or headaches. The residuals were not physical in nature, but more psychological, intangible and unseen by anyone who did not know Justin.  He might have some lingering fears but so far Brian had only seen Justin's creativity blocked.  In many ways that block was worse than the physical symptoms he'd experienced after the bashing.  He adapted, used other mediums to express himself and the artist thrived.  With the latest attack, his creativity was stifled which was much more harmful to Justin.  His identity was wrapped up in his art; it was how he expressed himself and the inability to create resulted in a lack of identity.  Brian wanted to lash out at the universe for doing this again, but he didn't.  Instead, he turned on the ignition and drove towards their temporary home at the Suites.

Justin was unsure how he felt when he left the courthouse.  He was relieved that his stalker would not be lurking around Pittsburgh trying to convince him that they belonged together; but he also felt sorry for the man and the delusions that brought him to this place.  He believed the man wouldn't bother him again, his friends assuring Justin they'd keep him away.  Justin was wary about other people and their actions. Would there be another stalker? Would a potential fan want to "share" pictures with Justin or the media? Would he always be looking "out" for someone who didn't belong?  He began to understand what it meant to be a celebrity.  Their private lives no longer private as soon the media determined there was an interest in anything they did.  Luckily, artists were not the media darlings that actors and actresses seemed to be.  The only people interested in the lives of artists were fans of their work and a few critics.  He was not a mafia family head nor was he some huge celebrity. He didn't want to live in a gated home with a huge security system nor have body guards surround him.  He needed to feel safe but maintain his privacy.  He couldn't think any more about what ifs.  He closed his eyes, laid his head back on the seat and tried to clear his mind of any thoughts. 

Brian looked over at Justin as he waited for the stop light to turn green.  His partner had a pained look on his face.  He didn't like seeing that expression and was determined to change the pain to elation.  He parked the car along the street close to the Suites and tapped Justin on the shoulder.

"We're home.  Come inside."

Justin opened his eyes and scanned the street, half expecting a small gathering outside their place.  Daphne had been in court with them, but none of the family had come.  He asked them not to be there, preferring to tell them the outcome after the proceedings.  He was relieved to be alone with Brian. 

"Okay."

They walked into their set of rooms and each man took off his coat.  Brian hung his up in the closet by the entry way while Justin placed his on the back of a chair in the dining area. Brian inwardly cringed at Justin's failure to hang up his coat; his feeling of chaos when things weren't in order increased when Justin was around, but he'd given up long ago in addressing this and accepted this was just one of his partner's quirks. He walked over and picked up his partner's coat, foregoing his usual "Justin" that accompanied this action.

Justin walked over to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water for himself.  Tilting his head toward Brian, he saw Brian's nod and got one for him as well. He sat on the couch in the living room, propping a pillow behind his back.  Brian followed him into the room and sat on the opposite side of the couch, turning his body toward Justin.

"Thank you for coming." Justin let his shoulders relax and closed his eyes for a moment as he inhaled the familiar scent of the residential unit.  It wasn't his home, but he'd begun to associate it with safety.

"I wouldn't have been anywhere else." Brian refrained from reaching out to Justin, although he wanted nothing more than to wrap the man in his arms and make love to him.

"I'm okay, Brian.  I don't think he'll bother me again.  I believe his friends." Justin took a drink from the bottle and twirled it in his hands.  "I've done a lot of thinking these last few weeks.  He was sick.  It nothing like Hobbs.  He didn't do this because he was denying his homosexuality or because he hated me.  The courts could have punished him for sending the notes and showing up at your office, but really what good would that have done?  It would be like getting mad at a child for getting sick in your car.  The child doesn't want to throw up but it just happens.  I'm pretty sure that John did not intend to be a stalker; he just thought that he and I were in a relationship."

Brian didn't respond.  He took several drinks from his bottle as he tried to wrap his mind around the notion that Justin could forgive this man.  He wanted to punish him, have the courts do something, retaliate for the hurt and anguish that Justin experienced, but as he listened he realized Justin was right.  Being sick was different than hating someone or denying your feelings and acting out. 

"I know you probably wanted something different from today," Justin said as he watched his partner's face. 

"You know me well," Brian said as he finally reached out for Justin's hand and laid his over it.  He gently squeezed and gave Justin a smile.

"We're married and I've known you for a long time.  I'd hope I'd know how you think by now."  Justin scooted over toward Brian and laid his head on Brian's shoulder.  They sat like that for quite a while, both men lost in their own thoughts. 

"And I think since you have the day off and my studio is still not calling my name we should go into the bedroom and make good use of that luxurious bed."

"You do have some excellent thoughts."

They spent the next several hours in the bedroom, but when Justin's stomach started grumbling, they got dressed.

"We've been here for almost two weeks and haven't explored any of the restaurants except those that deliver," Justin said as he walked over to the business desk in the living area.  "I think I saw a book with information about the area.  I'm sure it would have some good suggestions."

They looked at the book together and settled on a small bistro nearby.  They ordered lunch and enjoyed each other's company.  Nothing was said about the court room or Justin's painting.  After lunch, they went shopping as Brian insisted he needed a new shirt and tie for an upcoming presentation.  Justin didn't argue, recognizing the ruse for what it was, a way to pass the afternoon together.  It was after 6:00 when they finished shopping; Brian having purchased three new shirts and Justin buying a new pair of jeans and a club shirt. 

"Let's go to Woodys.  I bet the guys will be there.  I'm sure they're eager to get an update," Justin suggested, realizing he was ready to talk to about the court proceeding.

"You sure?  We can wait a few days.  No one is going to be hounding us," Brian said as he placed the shopping bags in the trunk of the car.  "It's on the other side of town.  We're not close."

"I'm sure.  I want to see everyone and I'm in the mood to play some pool.  Think we could convince Michael and the Professor to play a few rounds?"

"Sure. Michael loves to play pool and he's gotten better, but I doubt he can beat us.  It will be nice to hang out at Woodys."

They got in the car and drove toward Woodys.  "I'm going to call Michael and let him know we're on our way.  He can tell everyone else," Brian said as he pushed the button on his steering wheel that activated his bluetooth.

Justin listened to the conversation and smiled when Michael said he and Ben would be there and was pretty certain that Ted and Emmett would be able to come too. He liked his little family and was eager to share the results of the judge's decision.  They'd all been supportive and he wanted to thank them.

Brian and Justin spent a fun evening at the bar and beat everyone in pool. At the end of the night, they said their goodbyes and returned to their suite.  They undressed and got ready for bed.

"You going to work tomorrow?" Justin asked as he placed his clothes in the dirty laundry bin.

"I enjoyed today with you, but someone's got to pay for these digs," Brian said and immediately regretted his words.  He ran his hand through his hair and squinted his eyes.  "I didn't..."

"It's okay, Brian.  I've got a show in a few weeks and I'm sure that I'll want to return to my studio soon." Justin closed the hamper and walked to the bed, lifted the blanket and climbed in.  He reached over and lifted the blanket for Brian. Brian reached over toward Justin, pulling him toward his chest.  Justin settled into the embrace, his back to Brian's chest and they lay there quietly for several minutes.

"I'm going to spend some time with Gus tomorrow.  I promised we would paint again and he's off school for teacher's meetings. Tomorrow seemed like the perfect day to do that." Justin reached over to the light on the nightstand and shut it off, bathing them in darkness.  "It's been a long day."

Brian kissed Justin behind the ear and on his back, understanding that he was asking to forego their normal bedtime sex for some much needed sleep.  Brian knew Justin had not been sleeping well for the last week. They had an unspoken agreement that when one or the other of them stated it was a long day it meant no sex that night.  Brian respected the request, wrapped his arm around his partner, closed his eyes and drifted to sleep.

Justin laid there for a few minutes and took inventory of his feelings.  He realized he was relieved the court proceeding was over and that his stalker was getting the help he needed.  He wasn't anxious any more.  Tomorrow he would be starting a new chapter in his life- sans stalker and he was ready to get back on track.  He had everything he wanted; a partner who loved him, a family that cared about him and an art career that provided the opportunity for him to create.  He closed his eyes and slept very soundly for the first time in a week.

The next few weeks were busy for both Brian and Justin.  Justin spent some time with Gus and helped him paint.  He also spoke to Carol regarding his upcoming show.  He and Brian had discussed returning to Britin and Justin said he would probably want to do so after his show.

About a week before the show, he woke from a vivid dream and knew he was ready.  Creeping out of bed, he curled up on the couch with his sketch book and pencils and began working.  He really didn't think about the act, just started to draw as the ideas flowed out of his body and on to the paper.  After several hours, he was tired and returned to bed.  Curling up to Brian, he reached out and held his partner as he fell asleep quickly.

As usual, Brian got up early to go to work.  He and Justin shared their mutual blow jobs and Justin went back to sleep for several hours.  As he was getting ready, he saw the sketch books lying on the couch; a very welcome site.  It had been a long time since Justin had his sketch books out and Brian was happy to see them. He quickly resigned himself to seeing a little less of his partner for a while, understanding Justin's ability to lose track of time when he was in his studio. 

Brian left the Suites in a good mood.  When he got to work, he called Rosa.

"I think Justin may be ready to paint again.  Can you please go shopping? You may need to start cooking again."

"Will you be here for dinner, Mr. Kinney?"

"I don't think so, but could you go out to the house this morning and fill the cupboards with snacks and lunch food.  It won't hurt to have a few things in the fridge.  I think we should be there for dinner in a few days.  I'll let you know in advance."

"I'll go to the market this morning.  I'm happy to see you return.  It's been very quiet," Rosa said as she brought out the pen and paper that were stored in a drawer by the phone.  She quickly wrote a list of food items she wanted to purchase.

Brian hung up the phone and called Jennifer.

"Brian, is everything alright?"  Jennifer asked as she saw the caller ID and noticed the early hour.  She saw Tucker still sleeping so she took the phone and went into the living room.

"I found Justin's sketch books in the living room this morning when I was leaving for work." Brian smiled to himself when he pictured the books lying on the couch.

"Oh," Jennifer said, not really understanding the significance of the statement.  She turned on a light as it was still a little dark in the room.

"Jennifer, he hasn't been in the studio in over a month."

Jennifer swallowed hard, shaking her head in sadness. "I didn't know.  Why didn't you tell me?"

"There was nothing you or anyone could do.  You know that Justin wasn't comfortable being at Britin; we relocated to town."  Brian walked to the coffee machine and poured a cup of coffee into a mug.

"He told me that he needed to get away and that you were very busy with Kinnetik so this was a compromise."  Jennifer felt the chill in the room and grabbed the afghan from the back of the couch, placing it on her legs.

"Well, he told you part of the story.  Jennifer, he did want to get away.  He couldn't go into the studio; his creativity was hindered by all of this stalker business and everything else.  Being at Britin just reminded him of his difficulties.  He's been working for me, helping with a few campaigns and spending time with Gus and Daphne for the last month.  He hasn't touched his art supplies in a long time."

"I wish you had told me.  I could have..." She frowned as she learned of Justin's difficulties.  Her heart was filled with sadness.

"No, you couldn't have.  You know that as well as I do.  Justin would never want to admit that he was unable to work on his art.  It's who he is and without it, he's been very uneasy."  Brian poured cream and three sugar packets into his coffee and blew on it to cool it off.

"You're right.  So you found his sketch books on the couch.  That's wonderful.  He's creating again." Tucker came into the living room and mouthed to Jennifer, asking if everything was alright.  Jennifer nodded and Tucker came to the couch and shared the blanket with her.

"I think so.  I called Rosa and asked her to go to the market and start cooking again. I'm sure there isn't much to eat at Britin." Brian made a mental note to call the market too. He set up an account at the market and put money on it for Rosa to use. It was much easier to use the account then to deal with carrying cash or getting money to Rosa.  Since they hadn't been at Britin for several weeks, he needed to make sure the account had money it.

"My son will need food.  Of course, when he is painting, he forgets to eat."

"For someone who loves to eat like Justin, I don't know how he forgets, but when he is painting he can go 10-12 hours without food.  It is a mystery to me as well." Brian returned to his desk and clicked on the computer, typing in the market's website.

"I'm so happy that he's creating again.  His show is in a week and I know he was worried about it."

"Yes," Brian said as he checked the account balance.  He had a few more calls to make and needed to get moving. "I have loads of work to do so I will talk to you later."

"Of course. Thank you for telling me.  I'll call in a few days."

After hanging up with Jennifer, he made another call to Daphne.

"He's recovering."

"Good morning to you too, Brian.  Now why don't you start the conversation from the beginning, instead of 5 minutes in so I don't have to figure out what you are talking about?"

Brian sighed, loving Daphne for her ability to communicate.

"This morning I found Justin's sketchbooks on the couch in the living room.  They weren't there last night."

"He must have been hit with inspiration in the middle of the night, but wasn't ready to go to his studio.  That's wonderful."  She smiled and pulled her bathrobe from the bottom of the bed and put it on. She made a mental note to call him today.  "Now wasn't that easier than playing 20 questions with me?"  She walked to the kitchen where the coffee maker was set to start in 10 minutes and reset it to manual start.  This was great news, but she needed her caffeine in order to fully wake up.

"You can't tell him I know."

Daphne shook her head.  "Brian, you're his partner.  You don't have to keep secrets.  I'm sure he would be thrilled to share this news with you."

"I'll let him tell me when he's ready. Part of being his partner is respecting his privacy and letting him return to work on his own time table.  If I asked every day if he was sketching, going to the studio, etc, he would feel a lot of pressure to do so."

"True.  Okay.  Brian Kinney has spoken and I have to say that after all these years, you really do know how to read Justin Taylor."

Brian smiled at Daphne's compliment.  "My first conference call is in 10 minutes, so I have to go."

"Thanks for telling me.  I'll talk to you in a few days." She took down her coffee cup and filled it with warm coffee.  Inhaling the wonderful aroma, she was excited to start her day.

Brian was glad that his phone calls had only taken 30 minutes to complete.  He never would have thought he would voluntarily pick up the phone to call Jennifer or Daphne, but was so thankful for their love and support, he didn't even think twice about updating them on Justin's progress. 

As Brian predicted, Justin did go out to Britin that day.  He called the car service and set up to go there in mid morning.  As he met the car, he was surprised that he was feeling no fear and was actually excited about working in his studio again.  He knew Rosa would be there and when he arrived, she was in the kitchen putting away groceries. 

"Rosa, will you please fix dinner tonight?  I'll be working today. Also, if you could put a sandwich in the fridge? I might eat that later as well."

"Yes, Mr. Taylor." She turned from him and continued her unpacking. 

Justin spent several hours in his studio and came down for lunch.  He quickly ate his sandwich and texted Brian to come to Britin for dinner.  Brian texted back that he would be there by 7:30.

Justin returned to the studio to work on his latest piece. He had stretched the canvas in the morning and he was mixing his paints after lunch.  As he began working, the picture seemed to flow from his body.  He was elated with the piece. He'd feared that he might be unable to paint again since it had been so long so he created anything but "baby" pieces with Gus.  The smile on his face as he admired the finished piece was huge.

Brian arrived home in the early evening.  Justin wasn't in the living room when he got home and he thought he might still be in the studio. As he walked toward the door, he wasn't disappointed.  Justin was sitting on the floor looking at the painting and the ecstatic look on his face warmed Brian's heart.  It had been too long since he'd seen that smile.   

"It's amazing," Brian said as he walked into the studio.  It was an accepted rule that Brian could enter the studio if the door was open; otherwise he had to knock before entering. 

Justin was startled by the sound, but turned around and grinned. "It was so much fun to paint today. I could never leave it forever."

Brian started to hug Justin, but stepped backwards instead.  "Go get clean and we'll celebrate."

Justin laughed, a genuine laugh, the first in a long time.  "Why Brian, I'm guessing you don't want to get paint on your $1000 suit!" he said, tongue in cheek.  "I don't think I'd ever hear the end of that lament.  How about you join me to make sure all the paint is gone?"

"I think that can be arranged.  I'm feeling a little grimy myself."

Epilogue:

It was the night of the show.  Justin was excited for the opening, but also had qualms about the pieces. Carol had a small space for the artists to gather before a show.  It was set up with a galley kitchen and a small living room arrangement.  Some of her artists liked to meditate before a show.  Others, like Justin, used the room for sex, but she had the forethought to remove any recording devices from the room and insured that the doors locked from the inside. 

"What if they don't like it?"  Justin was sitting on the couch in the back room of the gallery,

"They'll love it.  Your paintings are masterpieces."  Brian was reknotting his tie, looking in the mirror to ensure perfection.

"I hope no one asks about the stalker.  I don't want to talk about that."  Justin rung his hands several times, reminiscent of Macbeth and crossed and recrossed his legs.

"That's old news, weeks ago.  The critics are more likely to ask about the new gallery where you're going to showcase some of your early works.  That is what they're interested in." Satisfied with the knot, he turned toward Justin and smiled.

"Are you sure?" Justin asked, still not convinced.

Brian did not want to tell him that Carol had been approached by several people for copies of Justin's strip pictures.  It seemed his fame had increased when people thought they could catch a glimpse of his semi naked body.  She had refused and only told Brian.  He hoped that some crass critic or reporter wouldn't bring that subject up.  Justin had been doing so well, painting every day.  He practically had to bribe him with sex to get him out of his studio. 

"I'm sure.  If it will make you feel better, I'll have Tim Callen follow you around as your personal publicist.  He can field any weird questions." Brian sat down next to Justin, kissing his cheek.

Justin smiled his thousand watt smile and gave me a hug.  "I love you.  That would be great."

"Done."  Brian had already approached Carol and Tim about just this situation and both agreed it was a perfect solution.  He had worried that Justin would object, but it appeared that his worries were unfounded.

"We need to get out to the gallery. The guests should be arriving in a few minutes."  Brian looked in the mirror in the room where he and Justin waited before entering the gallery.  Justin looked at his suit; he still refused to wear a tuxedo, making sure his shirt was tucked in and his collar was straight.  Brian had given him a quick blow job to calm his nerves and he didn't want to look disheveled.  After reviewing his clothing in the mirror and admiring Brian in his suit, he nodded his head and kissed Brian on the lips.

"I love you."

"You too," Brian said as they walked into the gallery.

The show was a success and Brian's idea of asking Tim Callen to accompany Justin was brilliant.  There were several occasions where a critic or reporter started asking questions about the stalker or Justin's history as a dancer and Tim redirected them to a nearby piece in the exhibit.  By the time Tim had conveniently asked Justin questions about the specific piece, the person forgot their initial inquiry. 

"I appreciate all the help you provided tonight, Tim.  Without you, I don't think I would have made it," Justin said after the show ended.

"Nonsense.  I respect your work, Justin.  I would do anything to help your career."  He stuck out his hand and Justin shook it solidly.

After the last guest had departed, Brian and Justin were in the gallery sitting on a bench toward the back of the exhibit. 

"I don't remember seeing this one in the catalog," Brian said as he looked at the piece in front of them.  "It's about the stalker and your dancing, isn't it?"

It was less abstract than normal for Justin.  A viewer could see pieces of the picture; a gavel, a boom box, letters and photographs spread throughout the piece.  It was titled, "history".

"Yeah.  I finished it a few days ago and asked Carol to include it.  She agreed.  It has a sold sticker on it." Justin felt relief that the piece had sold.  It had been cathartic to paint, but now he did not want it.  Being an artist was both a blessing and a curse.  His art was an extension of him, and each time a piece sold, he was selling a part of his soul.  This time, he was happy to sell the painting; it was a part of him that he wanted to forget.

"It does."

"You didn't buy it, did you?" a slight fear caught in his throat as he thought about Brian buying the piece.

"No.  I recognized it for what it was.  I wouldn't do that to you."

"Good."  Justin leaned forward and kissed Brian gently.  Justin turned toward Brian, smiling.

"Life is good.  I'm painting again.  I have you as my partner.  The world even knows about my dancing and doesn't seem to care."

"There's a "but" in there.  I can practically see the wheels turning in your head."

"You know me so well."

"I do, but I don't know what the "but" is.  Why don't you share?"

"Hanging out with Gus while all this was happening was awesome.  He helped me so much.  His innocence was refreshing. All he wanted was my time.  Even when I couldn't paint, I felt like I could still contribute to society by being with him."

Brian felt the pit in his stomach growing larger with each statement.  He schooled his features to accept whatever Justin was going to share. 

"Daphne and I were talking about children before all this happened and she told me I was great with Gus and that I'd make a great parent.  At that time I wasn't so sure, but now I think I want to be a father.  I realize that no matter what is going on in my life, I can always give to a child." Justin looked eagerly at Brian, hoping for a positive reaction.  He and Brian had discussed the issue a few weeks ago, but there was really no consensus.  

Brian nodded his head but didn't say anything.  He knew Justin was great with Gus and he had pushed Lindsay to bring Gus by to occupy Justin's time when things got really rough. He couldn't say no to his partner. He smiled and reached out to Justin, pulling him into a hug.  A quick flash of Justin with a small child in his arms melted his heart and he could envision that future.  Justin had overcome so much adversity and he recognized his strength.  They had a great partnership and could deal with anything the universe threw at them.

"Okay.  But for tonight, I've got you all to myself and I want to celebrate." Brian kissed Justin strongly on the lips and pulled him up from their seat.

"Sounds great to me.  Let's go celebrate."  Justin smiled his largest smile.  Happy with his life, his partner and his future.  Life goes on despite the little snags and his had a bright future.

The end-  Thank you to all my readers and my wonderful betas. This story has been a very long journey- much longer than I ever anticipated.  I hope my readers enjoy the ending and find it satisfactory.  I wasn't sure if parenthood was the way to go but after rereading the story and seeing how Gus was with Brian, it appeared to be answered for me.