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