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