Melanie Marcus - Lindsay Peterson - Brian Kinney - Justin Taylor

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                                 Gus Marcus-Peterson - Cinda Marika

                                                           I

                                       Marika Marcus-Peterson - Perry McShane

                                                                         I

                                                         Peter Marcus McShane

Brian Kinney- 1970 to 2062

Justin Taylor- 1982 to 2063

Gus M/P- 2000 to 2078

Marika M/P- 2027-

Peter McShane- 2049 -

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September 19, 2078:

The young man stood in the center of the cavernous space inside his new building and wondered to himself if he was making a big mistake. Normally he was not the type to second guess himself. His name was Peter McShane. He was twenty-nine years old and had always known what he wanted from life and how to get it. There was a cockiness about the fellow that his grandfather, Gus, constantly informed folks was the mirror image of his own father. Every time that Peter got into some mischief while growing up or took on some bully or a cause, his grandfather would announce to his parents, 'Just like my old man,' and then smile at some memory only he could picture in his head.

Peter was only thirteen when his great-grandfather passed away, but he could clearly remember what an impressive man he was. The thing that was most impressive was his relationship with his husband, Grandpa Justin. The family lost Grandpa Justin the very next year after losing Grandpa Brian. Everyone said that it appeared as if one couldn't live without the other. Now, nearly twenty years later Peter had gotten his hands on a piece of their past. He just hoped that he wasn't taking on more than he could chew. Peter's big dream had always been to be his own boss, and now was his big chance. If everything worked out right, not only would he be a success in business but he could also revive the family heritage. It was just his good fortune that this property had come up for sale after over fifteen years of being in someone else's hands.

Looking around the area surrounding him, Peter found it hard to believe that this building once housed the most amazing vitality in the form of a swinging dance club. At this moment everything was ugly and gray. The space had been used as a warehouse for at least a dozen years, and not a particularly clean one at that. Everything was dusty, every nook and cranny of the place. The stairs leading up to a balcony looked rickety and in need of repair. Apparently the upper floor had been seldom used except for a small office to the rear. Peter had found some photos in a family album that showed what the interior of this building once looked like. One photo in particular was of his great-grandfathers standing at the top of that balcony, looking down on the floor below like kings surveying their kingdom. What Peter saw in that, and many other photos revealed a very different interior than what he was seeing now. All Peter wanted was to bring back the former glory of this place. That is what he would use his share of the inheritance from Grandpa Gus for. Somehow he knew it would be pleasing to Grandpa Gus.

As Peter stood there trying to decide what he would need in order to re-build Babylon the way he envisioned it, he heard a commotion coming from the front of the building. It meant that the interior decorator he had hired right after buying the property had finally shown up. He had hired Tracy Fiedler, a well-known decorator, for the job because the guy had a sparkling reputation for getting a job done quickly. Halloween was only six weeks away and Peter was set on a Halloween opening for the club. He could already envision a colorful Halloween party for the opening. He wanted the entire thing to be the talk of the town. He wasn't surprised to see that Tracy had brought along a number of his employees with him. It was obvious that Tracy was not going to waste time. Peter liked that.

"I'm here," Tracy announced cheerfully, before taking a really good look around the room they were standing in. His face fell. "You didn't bother to tell me that this was going to be such a huge job, Peter."

"Didn't I?" Peter smiled in his most charming way. "I knew you would be able to handle anything I threw at you so I didn't think to mention it. Of course if you think it is too much for you to handle, I can always find another decorator."

"I never said I couldn't handle the job," huffed Tracy, looking offended by the very suggestion that he couldn't handle any job he took on.

Peter tried hard not to laugh. He certainly did know Tracy's weakness. He ought to by now. They had been friends for years. As a matter of fact, they had come close to being more than friends during the first year of their acquaintance. The only thing that held them back was the fact that they made much better friends than they would have lovers. Deciding that they valued their friendship too much to risk losing it, they had never gotten intimate after that first fumbling attempt at it a decade ago. Their friendship had indeed survived. Actually, Peter thought of Tracy as his best friend now, so he would have hired the guy even if he did not have such a great reputation.

Actually, the fact that he was gay was the second reason why Peter wanted to re-open Babylon. The so called 'gay gene' had skipped the last two generations of their family on his mother's side so Peter had grown up feeling like the outsider of the family. It wasn't that anyone in the family treated him differently because he was gay, it was just that he never felt as if anyone could relate to how he was feeling. Yes, he did realize he was attracted to the other boys before the death of his great-grandfather's, but he was not at an age where a young boy had any desire to talk about sexual matters with any adult, no matter who they were or how understanding they might be. If Brian and Justin had lived long enough and Peter had been older, he probably would have turned to them eventually for help in dealing with his coming out. Instead, he was graduating from college before he told the family his secret. Not surprisingly, no one actually had a problem with it.

Ever since his graduation, Peter had drifted through his life searching for what would make him happy. He had studied business administration and done quite well in it. He had a natural gift for organization and planning, but he had not found what he was looking for in all three of the companies he had gone to work for. He actually did a great job for the companies and improved their income by quite a bit, but he always felt dissatisfied within a couple of years of working for the company. Once he did he would move on to the next job, staying there for a couple more years. He had just quit his third job since graduation when he heard the rumor that the old Babylon Club building was up for sale again while enjoying a night out at his favorite bar with friends. It felt like Kismet. The thought of managing his own business was too enticing to ignore. And it didn't hurt his cause that he still had most of his inheritance left in the bank.

With the deed to the property in his hands, Peter was now ready to gut the building and give Tracy a free hand in turning the old place back into the gay man's paradise it once was. The two men now surveyed each and every inch of the space available. They bounced ideas off each other for hours, Peter carrying around numerous old photos from Brian and Justin's albums. Peter reminded Tracy that he only had six weeks to get the place ready for opening night. Tracy balked at the time constraints, as Peter had expected, but he knew that a little flattery would go a long way in having his expectations met. Peter proceeded to tell Tracy that he knew no one could get the project done quicker or better than him. By the time Peter left to meet with some friends in the advertising business to discuss promoting the reopening of Babylon, Tracy was happily directing his employees from one area to the next with instructions on what was expected of them and how much time he was allowing them to get their jobs done.

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Oct. 17, 2078:

Peter could feel his irritation rising as he continued listening to Tracy's rambling tirade over some nonsense about the place being cursed. It had only been a month since they had started working on re-modeling the old Babylon and there was still plenty of work that needed to be done. Peter was far more concerned over the delays causing a problem with opening the club on the expected date than in all the silly gossip he had been hearing from Tracy and his employees. Apparently, according to the workmen, all sorts of strange things were happening....things like tools suddenly gone missing, paint cans falling over when no one was anywhere near them, and lights going on and off at the strangest times. Everything started in the first week that the work began and it hadn't stopped since. The moment that Tracy finally took a breath Peter jumped in and asked his friend if anyone had ever been hurt by all the mysterious happenings.

"Of course not," Tracy blustered. "If that had happened you would have heard about it a lot sooner. But I'm telling you right now, this place is haunted. Don't forget that seventy years ago someone bombed this place and people died here. I will bet you anything they have been haunting this place ever since. It is probably because you are planning on turning it back into the same kind of dance club it was at the time of the bombing that the ghosts have started stirring again."

"Give me a break, Tracy. First of all I don't believe in ghosts. Secondly, if that was true... well, hell, if the ghosts are not hurting anyone then I would welcome them. It would be great advertising for our Halloween party. Now look, you only have two more weeks to get this place ready. If there are ghosts here, then you had better find a way to work around them. And unless they threaten someone's life, I really don't want to hear any more complaints. I told you before, I have all my money sunk into this place and I'm not going to let anything stand in the way of my future. And that includes any ghosts of former dancing partygoers."

Tracy watched as Peter flipped around on his heels and exited through the front door. Easy for him to walk away, Tracy thought to himself. Peter only visited the site a few hours each week to check on the progress of renovations while he and his workers were stuck here all day and late into the evening. He's the one who had to constantly listen to all the complaints of the workmen. Every other day they seemed to come up with new stories about some nonsense or the other, such as feeling someone tapping them on the shoulder when no one was there or hearing music coming out of nowhere. They even swore that they could hear laughter but when they checked where it was coming from they could see nothing there. Tracy had never been a spiritual man before now, but the truth was he was looking forward to the completion of this job. Promising himself that nothing would distract him again, Tracy returned back to his work.

Meanwhile, Peter had hurried away. He was already late for his luncheon date with his mom, Marika. She had claimed it was just a friendly mother-son get-together but he knew her too well to be fooled. She had brought along a prospective date to their last luncheon. His mother had been bugging him about finding a good man and settling down for a few years now, but with his thirtieth birthday looming on the horizon she had upped her game. He pulled into the parking lot of her favorite bistro and gathered his wits about him. Somehow he had to make her understand that his new business was far more important than searching for the perfect mate. He could hardly be blamed for being an only child and her only chance at becoming a grandparent. One way or another he would make her see that romance wasn't in the cards for him, especially now.

Peter stepped into the restaurant and looked around. The maitre d' stepped forward. He told the man who he was looking for and was directed to his mother's table. As he approached he saw that she was not alone. A very attractive gentleman, approximately thirty years old or so sat across from her. They were in a lively discussion but stopped as soon as they saw him approaching. The man stood up and extended his hand, offering a shake which Peter ignored at first. He looked to his mother for an explanation. Mom had the decency to look embarrassed but proceeded to make introductions.

"There you are, son. I was afraid you were not going to make it. Let me introduce my friend here. This is Richard Stanwyck. I went to school with his mother. He just arrived in town for a family visit and I met him when I was visiting with Laura, his mom. We got to talking and I thought you might enjoy meeting him since you have so much in common with each other.''

"And what is it we have in common?"

Marika looked slightly flustered, probably because of Peter's tone. But she stood her ground. "Well, dear, Richard here is also a businessman with his own company. Nothing like yours, of course, but he does know what it is like to be in business for yourself. I thought maybe you might enjoy picking his brain for ideas on how to be a success with a new venture."

Richard stuck his hand out again and said quietly, "I really don't know a lot about your kind of business, but I do find it interesting. I hope I'm not intruding here. Your mother assured me that you wouldn't mind my joining the two of you."

Peter felt ashamed of the unfriendly way that he had greeted Richard who probably hadn't realized what his hostess was up to. He took the offered hand and shook it before taking the seat next to his mother.

"What kind of business are you in, Richard?"

"I own my own clothing stores. Actually I started out with one store and now have four of them in New York City. They are doing quite well and my dream is to expand into other markets."

"What kind of clothing?"

"Men's clothing. I actually used to dream about being a clothing designer myself. Unfortunately I discovered I really had no talent for it. I got together with some friends I made in design school and worked out a deal with them. They design the clothing and I sell them. I was smart enough to pick really good designers and others thought so too. Actually a lot of what we sell would be perfect for your customers at the dance club. Party wear is our best sellers."

The conversation continued as their orders were brought out. Despite himself, Peter found himself enjoying the conversation. It didn't take long to figure out why his mother had brought Richard along. By the end of the meal, Peter had invited Richard to return in two weeks for the opening of the club as his guest. It wasn't that Peter was particularly attracted to Richard, although he was certainly good-looking enough, but he was very pleasant company. Besides, inviting him might forestall any future pushing of Peter towards other men coming from his mother. They finally finished their meals and left together. Peter hugged his mother as she whispered in his ear something about how proud she was of her son. He helped her into Richard's car and waved goodbye. He needed to get back to his planning for the opening of the club. With any luck, he would end up as successful as Richard had been.

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Oct. 31, 2078- 6:55 p.m.:

Peter looked around the room, his eyes scanning every inch of it. He could hardly believe the change in the place since the first time he had seen it just a month and a half ago. What had been a dingy unwelcoming space had been turned into a glittering, shiny jewel with color splashed everywhere and bright lights illuminating all its glamour. As the looked around, he couldn't help thinking that his great-grandfathers would have been proud of what he had accomplished. Despite the fact that they still had a number of strange incidents during the final two weeks of preparation for the opening, somehow Tracy and his crew had managed to get it all done exactly the way that Peter had envisioned it.

Now they were ready. A top notch DJ had been hired, the best music equipment was in place, a full staff was at the ready, and everything looked perfect, including Peter. As a matter of fact, at the moment he looked more like his great-grandfather, Brian, then ever before. And like Brian, he had made certain that the upcoming event received plenty of advertising. The proof of his success in marketing the new club could be seen outside on the streets in front of the place. A long line running clear down the side of the building and around to the back had already formed. There hadn't been a decent dance club in Pittsburgh in years, at least not for the gay crowd. Of course there were some smaller joints, but nothing like Babylon, especially in her heyday. Peter was about to change all that. He stepped outside for one last peek at his future customers.

As hoped, the crowd had come in costumes, and a colorful bunch they were. Many of them were totally recognizable to the young man watching them, but some were so well disguised that he couldn't have named them if his life had depended on it. There were the basic costumes of ghosts and goblins and witches of course, but many were even more creative...dressed as babies in a carriage and giant hot dogs or a couple dressed as Siamese twins joined at the hip. Best of all, everyone looked ready to party. Peter went back inside the club and checked his watch. It was time. He nodded to his assistant, a burly man with a face that warned folks not to fool with him, and the doors were opened. Club Babylon was open for business again.

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Oct. 31, 2078- 11:55 p.m.:

The night was proving to be a huge success. Peter had gauged his clientele extremely well. The entertainment he had hired had done a bang-up job in keeping customers on their feet, enjoying every minute of the rocking music that flowed seamlessly from one super popular song to the next thanks to the DJ's brilliance. The costume contest an hour earlier had brought out laughs galore with a winner that fit the crowd perfectly in his body suit that made him look like a giant penis complete with hanging balls around his feet.

Peter was in his element. He was so happy that he welcomed the sight of Richard Stanwyck showing up about a half hour after the opening. The two enjoyed some relaxed conversations as Peter floated from one group of party-goers to the next, glad-handing everyone and accepting all the praise that came his way on the success he had made of a resurrected Babylon. The thought of any spirits haunting Babylon had long slipped from Peter's mind. Even Tracy didn't seem to have a care in the world when he came by for a visit in order to get a feel for what others thought of the work he had done with the old place. He didn't stay long, however, claiming that he had promised to attend a friend's Halloween party. Peter was much too happy with the way things were going to complain about his old friend leaving so early.

Then it happened. Less than twenty minutes ago, Peter had found himself in a most uncomfortable position. Standing here on the balcony overlooking the dance floor, he still couldn't believe how badly he had mis-judged the guy. Peter had found himself beginning to enjoy Richard's company more as the night went on. He was a charming man and Peter was starting to think he was also a lot sexier than he had first thought he was. That's why he hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary when Richard followed him to his office set far back in the corner of the top floor. He failed to hear the lock click on the door to the office after Richard entered behind him.

Peter walked over to his desk several yards away from the door and bent over to open the large drawer on the other side. He had stashed a special bottle of his best champagne there to open exactly at midnight in celebration if the club looked like it was going to be a hit. He had originally planned to toast himself and his brilliant entrepreneurial skills, but was now willing to share it with Richard. Before he could straighten back up, he felt pressure on his buttocks and the back of his legs as Richard stepped up behind him. Surprised, but not really shocked, Peter stood up and turned around. He found himself almost nose to nose with the man. He lifted his arm to display the bottle and slipped away to walk over to the couch. Richard followed close behind, almost on his heels.

"Uhhh, excuse me," Peter said, as he tried to turn around. "It would be a lot easier to open the bottle if you are not standing quite so close." He tried laughing it off to control his sudden discomfort.

For the first time during the evening, Peter realized that Richard had been drinking too heavily. The man stunk of alcohol as he breathed straight into Peter's face. The happy-go-lucky friendly attitude that Richard had started with was slipping. There was something less convivial about the way the man was staring at him right now that was off-putting. Before he could fully gauge the situation and decide how to handle it, Richard made a move that made it clear to Peter what he had to do next. The intoxicated jerk grabbed Peter around the waist and pulled him close. They were built similarly so Peter had little trouble pulling out of Richard's grasp. He hurriedly moved away to put the desk between him and the aggressive drunk. Richard looked surprised.

"Hey, what's the problem?" Richard asked in a slightly slurred voice. "You have been coming on to me all night. So why are you being such a prima-donna now. I thought you wanted to celebrate. Can't think of a better way than a good fuck, can you?"

"I like a good fuck as much as the next guy, but I like to be a party to the decision as much as my partner. I think you may have overestimated my attraction to you. I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong impression. Believe me, I wasn't coming on to you. I'm a little too busy trying to run this place for the first time to be flirting with anyone. Why don't you go back out and join the others and I'll join you later? It's almost midnight and I'm sure there will be some interested guys out there more than willing to drool over a nice piece of ass like yourself."

For a brief moment, Peter saw a completely different look flash across Richard's face. It had nothing of the friendliness that was previously plastered on his face. As quickly as the ugly look appeared, it was wiped clean just as fast.

"Sure. Whatever you say," Richard agreed, turning towards the door.

Peter congratulated himself on handling the sticky situation so well and came out from behind the desk in order to follow Richard so that he could close and lock the door behind him. Just as he got within a few inches of the man who was now like a complete stranger, Richard flipped around without opening the door and pushed Peter to the ground. Before Peter could get over the shock and regain his footing, Richard was on top of him trying to force kisses on Peter while trying to push his hand down Peter's belted pants. That's when Peter realized that he really was in trouble. Richard may not have looked any stronger than Peter but his drunken state had seemed to lend a lack of fear and a certain strength he might not have normally possessed.

"Damn you!" Peter screamed, twisting his face away from his attacker. "Get the fuck off me! Who in Hell do you think you are?"

His words only seemed to inflame Richard more. He had one forearm firmly planted on Peter's throat while his other hand kept trying to loosen the belt around Peter's waist. Richard's knees had both of Peter's arms pinned to the ground. The only thing free on Peter was his legs. Peter had always been a pacifist and never been in a fight in his life, but he knew he had to get this man off him. He was beginning to have trouble breathing from the pressure on his windpipe. He knew that if he passed out, anything could happen to him, including rape. He'd be damned if this asshole was going to ruin his opening night with such an ugly memory. Peter gave a mighty shove, bracing his feet on the floor with his legs up but nothing happened. The lack of air was causing a loss of strength in the young man. Just as he was about to lose consciousness, the pressure vanished.

It took a moment for Peter to realize that he was now free. He sat up and looked over to where Richard lay next to him on his back. He was out like a light. Peter couldn't understand what had happened. That was when he noticed the heavy paperweight in the shape of a rainbow that his parents had given him as a good luck charm before the opening of the new club. It was lying on the floor next to Richard's head instead of on the desk where Peter had put it. Each glass stripe had a different brilliant color, but Peter also saw a deeper red splashed on the top of the rainbow. Only inches from the paperweight, Peter saw that same red slowly pooling around Richard's head. Peter quickly checked and could see that Richard was still breathing in a normal pattern. He checked his head and saw that there was a nasty cut on his scalp but it wasn't that deep.

Peter had no idea how his paperweight could have knocked Richard out. The thing had been set far away from where the two men had been struggling on the floor so it couldn't have been knocked off in order to conk the jerk on the top of his head. Peter realized he needed to call for help but before he could get to the phone, he heard Richard groaning below him. Richard sat up slowly and gingerly touched his head. His hand came away with blood.

"Wha...what happened?"

"I don't know. I was too busy trying to breathe. You must have knocked my paperweight off the desk and it struck you," Peter told the dazed man, pointing to the offending glass piece. "I think you had better have that cut checked out. I'm going to call you a cab and have them take you to the emergency room. I don't think you want it getting out about what just happened in here so I think we can forget calling the police."

Richard may have been drunk, but he was fully aware that he had crossed the line. He nodded his head, bringing a fresh burst of pain from the effort. Peter quickly called his assistant to join him in the office after calling for a cab and had the man escort Richard downstairs to meet it. He gave instructions on what to tell the cabbie just in case Richard passed out again. As far as Peter was concerned, he could care less what happened to Richard as long as he didn't drop dead. His last words to Richard were..."Don't bother coming back. You're not welcome at Babylon anymore."

Now Peter stood above the dance floor and enjoyed the sight of all the happy patrons of his revived Babylon. He still wondered how the rainbow paperweight had managed to fly through the air from the desk to the top of Richard's head. It didn't make sense, but then a lot of odd things had been happening inside Babylon since he first bought the place. Was it possible that the place really was haunted by the ghosts of dancers past? Peter laughed out loud. What a ridiculous thought, he told himself. Who would want to hang around this place after shuffling off their mortal coil? And even if forgotten spirits had hung around, why play so many pranks on the workers? And even more so, why would they want to save him from the clutches of a would-be attacker? There were too many questions with no answers. So Peter got back to enjoying his success.

The one regret that Peter had at this moment was that he had begun to think that he might have found someone he could share his triumph with. He hadn't even realized that his mind had gone there until Richard blew his theory out of the water so violently. Peter knew he was going to love this place and felt in his heart that it was going to be a big fat success, but for the first time he wondered if it wouldn't be even more fun if he had someone he could share it with...like his Great-Grandpa Brian did with his mate, Justin. Just as he found himself thinking about his dearly loved long-lost relatives, Peter felt a tugging on his arm that insistently tried to turn him to the right. He quickly looked to his left, then right and saw nothing.

He straightened up again and looked out on the dance floor. Again he felt that tugging which seemed to be trying hard to force him to look to the right. Giving in to the feeling, Peter looked down on the right hand corner of the dance floor. For the first time, Peter noticed a rather short young man no more than 5'7" or 5'8". From his vantage point, Peter could see that the young man was barely out of his teens, if even that, and had a halo of pale blond hair on his head. He was slender and very attractive. Peter, who was the spitting image of his Great-Grandfather Brian, had never been attracted to petite blonds before but there was something magnetic about this one. Then the kid looked up, as if guided by an unseen force just as Peter had been. Their eyes locked. The stranger had eyes the color of a cloudless sky on a perfect morning.

Peter couldn't help himself. Some unseen force took over. He was drawn to the stairs. He walked down them slowly, his eyes never leaving the young man. The music played on...an old turn-of-the-century classic dance song called 'Dive in the Pool'. The crowd of dancers seemed to part on cue, leaving a clear path from the stairs to the edge of the dance floor where the stranger stood still, staring at Peter as he approached. Peter stopped short, just inches from the young man.

"I didn't see you come in," Peter stated.

"I just arrived. It's my first time in a dance club. The rumor is that this is the place to be from now on."

"The rumor's true."

"And how would you know?" the young man asked.

"Because I'm the owner. The name is Peter McShane. And you are"

"Jayden Lucas."

"Well, Jayden Lucas, care to try out our dance floor?" Peter asked, extending his hand.

Jayden looked down at the hand and without a second thought accepted it. The couple moved onto the dance floor....and somewhere high above the gyrating bodies moving to the beat, the sound of laughter could barely be heard over the noise below. And if one listened very closely, they might have caught the sound of someone saying....

"Good job, Sunshine."

"You too, Brian."

The End