SNOWSHINE

Chapter 2

       "TAAAYYYY - LOR!" the tantrum-like yell rent the air.

       "Sigh!" Justin thought, "And just when it was turning out to be such a lovely day!"

       It was nearing the end of the day. The party was winding down and Stockwell had decided that he had shaken his last hand, said his last thank you, accepted his last congratulations. He had cornered Justin in the locker area where Justin was getting dressed in his street clothes.

       Thinking quickly, Justin pulled his officer's hat back down over his hair just in case...

       He was right. Stockwell stormed around the corner with Brian hot on his heels. Justin's heart went pit-a-pat.

       "TAYYYYYYYYY - LOOORRRRR!!!!" Stockwell screamed again right in Justin's face, like the nightmare boss he was.

       "I'm right here sir. I'm blond, not deaf."

       There was a strange sound that sounded like a strangled snicker but when they looked around, Brian's face was impassive.

       "That's debatable...Snow!" Stockwell sneered, "What I DO know for sure is that you are the only one I told I was running for mayor AND I told you that it was hush hush! This is inexcusable!"

       "But Sir!!" Justin returned in his best valley guy voice, "I only told one per-suuunn and that was like, in the totaliest, like strictest of confidences! I guess he told two people and they told two people and they told two people and so on and..."

       "...So on and so on!" finished Brian, "Isn't that from a commercial?"

       "Well, you'd know! You tell me, Ad Man!" Justin said with a deliberate wink.

       Brian moved behind Stockwell and returned the wink, held it for a moment before gazing deep into his eyes. The entire thing was about 3 seconds long and reduced Justin's insides to mush.

       "This - this is inexcusable!" ranted Stockwell.

       "Yes, you said that," returned Justin in his normal but bored voice.

       "WHO!? Who was it? Who did you tell?" screamed Stockwell.

       "Oh, I'm sorry sir, I can't tell you that," returned Justin.

       "And why not!?" ground out Stockwell dangerously.

       "I promised I wouldn't tell," said Justin innocently.

       Stockwell looked so mad he could have bitten through a parking meter.

       "THEN YOU'RE FIIIRRRRED!" Stockwell screamed.

       Justin sighed a very long sigh, the patient kind you do when you are dealing with a young child or someone very, very stupid.

       "Sir, you cannot fire me. I am deep undercover on a case and I'm only here today to bring everyone up to speed and file paperwork and because I told everyone there that I was visiting a sick aunt. If I don't return to their hideout tonight, they'll realize they've been infiltrated and move, ruining 6 months work. And tonight, I'm planning the bust whereupon as of, oh, say midnight tonight, you'll have to give me another promotion."

       "Is that right?" Stockwell whispered leaning in so that they were nose to nose.

       "That's right!" returned Justin brightly.

       "DAMN YOU, SNOW!! I'LL GET YOU ONE DAY!!!" Stockwell yelled so loud, they probably heard him down the block. And without waiting to see if Brian was following him or not, Stockwell stormed off, slamming every door he came across. And this was the cop shoppe, baby! There were a lot of doors.

       As it was, Brian did not follow him. It was nearing the end of his pay day as well and besides given the choice between a sc'rump'tious hot cop (number 18!) and a raving loon, Brian wisely decided on the hot ass cop.

       Justin shrugged into his street pants (he had been in his tighty whitey underwear this whole time) and gave a very un "coplike" giggle.

       "He tries to fire me every week," he explained with his back to Brian. He had no idea if Brian was there or not but he spoke with the confidence that Brian would be there.

       "Why's that?" asked Brian in a bored voice to hide the fact that he had a throbbing boner.

       "Because I'm not afraid of him and I show it. I'm young, beautiful, blo - well, I'm gay. I get the job done, and I get results. So I can afford to show my disdain. And I am disdainful. I'm a gay cop in a mostly straight station with a straight, homophobic bigot as a boss. I hate him as much as he hates me. Only I -"

       "Aren't a screaming lunatic?" Brian asked drily.

       Justin tapped his nose. They both laughed.

       Brian turned serious again. You were going to say blond again weren't you?"

       "Yes."

       "Why did you stop?"

       "I have my reasons," said Justin.

       "Why did he call you Snow?"

       "It's a nickname."

       "Because you're blond? That's stupid."

       "No. Not because I'm blond," Justin said sadly.

       "Then why?"

       "Damn it, Brian! Just leave it alone!" Justin shouted harshly.

       "Yes sir! Officer Sir!" Brian saluted stiffly and turned on his heel. He strode toward the door. He grasped the handle.

       "Wait!"

       Brian stilled. "Yes, Officer?" he ground out the title.

       "I'm...I'm sorry Brian. I didn't mean to yell. It's just that...it's a touchy subject. I'll...I'll tell you..."

       Brian turned around. Justin had on street clothes now and where his cap was, was now a knitted white toque that covered his head and hair like a skullcap. "Yes?" he said, "I'm waiting."

       "I'll...I'll tell you...over dinner."

       Brian put on his best smirk which was the closest he got to smiling and meant he was happy or smug or both. "Lead the way, Officer. So, does this mean, I'm under arrest?" he asked in play.

       "That all depends on how good your behaviour is," answered Justin. "Do you like Italian? I know a good little place."

       "My behaviour is very good," replied Brian, He slowly stalked over to Justin and pressed up against him. Almost. "Some say it's the very best. Are you sure you wouldn't like to just go back to my place and order Thai?"

       Justin ran a splayed hand across that broad chest and then pushed him back a bit. "No. I'm in the mood for Italian. I'll pay. And if you still like what you see after...dinner, you can take me home. But later on tonight. Tonight I work, remember? Cool your jets."

       "Yes, Officer," Brian said, still playing but now his voice was a throaty whisper, "Italian it is. And I'll pay! Lead the way!"

       Justin smiled a brilliant smile, the one that made Brian think of Caribbean sunshine. He took Brian's hand but said nothing. And what more was there to say? He led the way.

$^%$#Chocolate chip mint ice cream&^%^

       The place Justin took him to was small and intimate. Each table had its own space and there were even a few booths. Each table had a red and white checked tablecloth and a white, round, fat candle. And each booth was a curved half moon shape against the wall. Each booth had a curtain that could be pulled across for extra privacy. The lighting was low.

       "Officer White!" a fat Italian with a bushy black moustache dressed in chef's white and a tall chef's hat bustled over. "Why you no come see Luigi more often? Why you stay away so long, bello?" He kissed him quickly on both cheeks European style.

       "Sorry, Luigi. I've been busy."

       "Si, si, I know all about your work! Running after fiends stupido!" Here the man regressed into worried Italian and kissed Justin on the cheeks again. Then he started, and noticed Brian for the first time.

       "Chi è questo? Qualcuno di speciale?" (Who is this? Someone special?)

       "Forse ... Vorrei un tavolo per due. Intimo," Justin replied. (Perhaps. I would like a table for two. Intimate.)

       Brian started. Justin knew Italian? But then again why not? Justin was a cop and went undercover a lot. He probably knew a few languages.

       Justin and the chef began a lively conversation. The chef threw a friendly arm around Justin's shoulder and his other arm around Brian's back as he was too short to reach Brian's shoulder. He guided them over to a booth in a corner and sat them down.

       Then he told Brian, "Now, you no worry, si? Any friend of Officer White is friend of Luigi! Anything you want, you get!"

       "Anything huh?"

       "Anything, bello, What Luigi do for new bello amico?"

       "Tell me why you are calling him Officer White. His name is Taylor."

       "Cosa vuol dire? Uhh...what you mean?" Luigi was genuinely confused.

       "Luigi...two waters please! Also, two specials and after...those mint gelatos...if you have them?"

       "Of course...of course! We always have for you! Always! Guido! Acquas! Acquas! Hurry for Officer White! Hurry stupido!" The fat chef bustled off.

       "I hope you don't mind. I ordered us both spaghetti and meatballs. I figured it would be generic enough that you would like it."

       "That's fine. Won't it be a little high carb though?"

       Justin laughed and his laugh was like music. "Oh Brian, this is an Italian restaurant! Everything on the menu except the water is high in carbs! But don't worry. One meal of spaghetti won't hurt that flawless physique of yours."

       Brian smirked at the compliment. "Thanks. So why is Chef Boy R Dee calling you Officer White?"

       Justin ignored the question. "And if you're really worried, simply do an extra set of twenty of everything on your next workout and an extra ten minutes of cardio whatever and you should be fine." He smiled brightly.

       "Brian growled, "Justin..." dangerously.

       "I love the way you growl my name. Do it again."

       "Justin...."

       "Oh yes! That's the way!" Justin threw his head back in pleasure.

       "Justin! Tell me! And tell me why Stockwell called you Snow! Or I leave! Right now! I don't play games and I don't like head games played on me!"

       Justin sobered. Oh Brian! Don't be angry! It's really quite simple. Luigi calls me Officer White because that's what he thinks my name is! I do undercover work a lot. I have to do some this evening. And so I have lots of names."

       "That doesn't explain Stockwell!" Brian growled.

       "No. No I'm afraid it doesn't." Justin said sadly. "Scientists are baffled!"

       Brian crossed his arms.

        "All right, all right, I'll tell you. Just...let's wait until the water gets here."

       So they waited for water and Justin drank in the sight of Brian's chiselled jaw and chocolate brown eyes as if he might never see again after tonight. He sighed deeply.

       "What's the matter with you?" asked Brian.

       "You're so handsome. You rattle me. I can't look at you hard enough. Your lips. Your eyes. Your eyes are amazing," answered Justin.

       Your eyes are pretty amazing as well, Brian admitted, "They flash like electricity is running through them. It's strange though..."

       "What is it Brian?"

       "Well, I've mellowed out over the years but even so, I rarely look at or notice a guy's eyes. Or care. But yours...yours I feel like I could look at forever. And...this is weird...as if I should have been looking at them for a long time now. And I mean like...years ago. Is that strange?"

       "Yes. But it's stranger that I feel the same way. What do you mean you mellowed?"

       The water came, delivered by a skinny kid with pimples. They didn't notice.

       And so, Brian told Justin about his past, about being a party boy, about seeking out sex every night with hundreds of partners. Eventually though, he wondered what or who he was even looking for and grew confused and so stopped his nightly quests. He focussed more on business, grew in the ranks of the company where he worked but eventually stealthily gathered a list of clients who would follow him and started his own company.

       The spaghetti came. Brian tore himself away from Justin's eyes and shook himself. "Hey! The food's here! You have to tell me now! Why do you have Snow as a nickname?"

       "I'll tell you. But we're having such a wonderful time. I'll tell you...after we eat."

       "No! Now! Or I walk."

       "Three quarters of the way."

       "Half...aaaannnnd...I have 6 meatballs on my plate. "Brian indicated the orbs of meat and inhaled their intoxicating fragrance of unique spices. When I get down to the last one...you tell me. Deal?"

       "Deal." They shook on it and Justin didn't want to let go. Neither did Brian. And so, they didn't. They ate and held hands and Brian made little swirling motions with his thumb on the inside of Justin's palm creating sensations that rocked Justin's world and went straight to his dick.

       And so they began to eat. But the true feast was with their eyes as they feasted on each other. Feeling that he had talked enough about himself, Brian asked about Justin's past. And so, Justin told him about his father disowning him and kicking him out on the verge of his self discovery. Brian was outraged. He told him about being a police sketch artist until he graduated and then entering the police academy. He told him about being gay in a police station and Stockwell's hatred and jealousy for him because in spite of being good looking and a fag to boot he still managed to make bust after bust making it impossible for him to fire him.

       And the more Justin told him, the more Brian felt a strange tightness in his chest. His heart beat faster. He watched Justin's blue eyes, his white, knitted skullcap, his white skin, and his plump lips that stood out in stark contrast, like drops of blood upon fresh snow. And as they ate, as Justin talked, Brian knew he wanted, nay, he must kiss those lips this night. He must kiss them over and over and over, and then again...tomorrow morning.

       And as they talked they ate and the pasta dwindled and Brian's meatballs disappeared until 3...2...1 was left. Justin eyed it nervously. And then Brian was spiking it with a fork and biting it in half.

       "Last one, hot stuff. Spill."

       "Did you know I saw you once before, long ago, before today?" Justin asked, desperately trying to deter him.

       "No more stalling, Justin. We had a deal. Wait - you did?"

       "Mmm-hmm. Years ago. But it was you."

       "Well you can tell me...after. Spill."

       Justin sighed. The time had come.

       "First, I want to apologise for stalling so much. It's just, I wanted to meet you, talk with you, be with you so much, as long as possible. And after what I show you, you may want to leave so I wanted to enjoy you as much as possible. There is another reason Luigi thinks my name is Officer White. This is why Stockwell calls me Snow." Justin took off his white knitted cap and revealed his white hair, which was a bushy mop from the static. Justin took out a comb, used some water from his glass to wet his hair and combed it neatly into a part to the right. And then he just waited. Waited for Brian to laugh. Waited for him to gasp in horror. Waited for him to bail.

       But Brian did none of those things. Granted, he gave a start of surprise, as everyone did and his eyes widened a bit. But all he said was:

       "This? This is it? White hair? Is that all?"

       "Justin smiled. "You're very kind. But no, that is not all. It's being young and having white hair. It's having white hair...all at once. Some people call me Snow. Some people call me White...or Whitey. White Rabbit, but that's mostly around Easter. And...some of the guys call me Snow White."

       "That's terrible!" exclaimed Brian.

       "Some people, like Luigi heard me being called Snow or White and assumed that was my name and so call me that as Officer White, or Officer Snow. And I let them. It's simpler and it makes them happy. And it gives me a certain anonymity when I need it. For example, no one at the station knows I come here." Justin gave a wan, sad smile.

       "But you said you were blond!" Brian said.

       "I am...I was - blond. And I'm only twenty-five. I still feel blond. And so, sometimes...I forget." Justin opened one of those small packets of butter they give you at restaurants, those little ones that are designed to get you to make a mess and only contain "not quite enough" butter for whatever you want. "Once...my hair was this color, indicating the little yellow pat of butter. Yellow, buttery blond," he said wistfully.

       Brian took a bite of spaghetti and chewed slowly. Justin sat there miserably as he waited for Brian to think up some excuse to leave and run like a rabbit.

       But Brian was not a rabbit. "He chewed and swallowed and said, "I don't really care for butter. It's fattening and besides, do you know that they use food color on that butter to make it look yellow? Real, freshly churned butter...is white. Cheese, too."

       Justin looked up with sad, shining eyes. "I did. But not many other people do."

       "True. Say, what's the matter, sad eyes?"

       "I've been waiting for you to decide you've had enough and bail."

       Brian moved closer to Justin around the curve of the booth. "Then you wait in vain. I'm not going anywhere. Not for something as simple as hair color. Who would do that?" He moved closer.

       "Many men have," Justin said.

       "Fools, the lot of them," Brian said as he took Justin in his arms. He pulled back a second and said, "Oh wait! This isn't gonna get me charged with assault is it?"

       "That's when I'm on duty," Justin said, smiling.

       "Oh good! Because this next bit would get me thrown in jail!" And Brian grabbed him by the shoulders pulled him hip to hip and kissed him.

       It was soft at first, exploratory and then Brian's tongue snaked out, seeking entrance and Justin opened willingly. Brian groaned. Justin tasted better than he imagined, spicy like the meatballs, with a musk that was male and new to Brian, a taste that Brian knew was Justin's unique taste, unique scent. It was a taste he would never forget. A taste he would crave like water for the rest of his life and never get enough.

       "Wait!" Justin pulled away and then zipped the curtain closed. "They know me here, know I'm gay but this gives us more...privacy, don't you think?"

       "I do. I like the way you think, Taylor." And he grabbed him again and kissed him again, an all consuming, killer kiss, that went on and on and on until Justin thought he would explode with pleasure right there. It felt right. They fit together like a lock and a key and their souls joined as one. The sense that Justin had that he was missing something vanished like it had never been. He felt completed at last. And he knew he had been right. Brian had been the key to what was missing.

       By this time, Justin was cradled in Brian's arms. His head rested on one big bicep and Brian was using that hand to hold his head and run his fingers through that silky mop of hair. His other arm lay possessively over and around Justin's chest moving up and over his nipples, settling around his waist for a good long session of tongue banging, and then start to roam again. They only came up for air and whenever they did, Justin wouldn't even open his eyes and simply murmured one word. "More." And Brian would smile wolfishly and happily comply.

%$#^&Cool Fact: Oceans, Lakes, Rivers and Pools often have icy cold water in them!#^%*&

       A cell phone rang.

       "Hello?"

       "This is Stockwell. I want you in my office at 1 AM or whenever the hoopla tonight has died down. Snow White claims he's making another bust at midnight!"

       "Sir, my partner and I -

       "MMMMMMM---??" a growling noise that meant huh?

       "Really?" He rolled his eyes. "Fine! I was planning on going to bed by 10! I have a ton of paperwo..."

       "I don't care if you were going to Disneyland! My office! 1 AM! I have a job for you! And you'll do it! You owe me! Remember that time a month ago I -"

       "I remember! I remember! All right! All right! I'll be there! Damn you!"

       "The devil beat you to it! Be there! Or else!"

       There was a click.

(*&%^^$#@$^Cool Idea: Watch a Christmas Movie&**&*^%$#@#

       Some time later, there was a patting on their curtain. "Did someone order the gelato?" Luigi called out.

       "Shit!" Justin sat up quickly and tried to straighten his now impossibly mussed up hair. Brian buttoned up his shirt and not quite straightened his tie.

       "Yes, Luigi, we're ready for you," Justin called and pulled aside the curtain.

       "Here you go! Here's gelato, icy and delizioso! Here - What's this, you no finish spaghetti? Why!!? Why you no finish Luigi's spaghetti? You no like?

       "No, Luigi, We liked -"

       But all the temperamental man heard was no. "Oh, you no like Luigi's spaghetti and meatball I make just for Officer White and new friend! I make just like Mama make! Oh, I put wrong thing in! I do wrong! I do wrong!"

       "Luigi! Luigi! Calm down! Perfetto! It was perfetto!" Justin yelled and hugged the chef.

       "Perfetto? Dawero?" the black moustachioed man asked with tears in his eyes.

       "Dawero. Really," answered Justin, glad to have averted a full blown meltdown.

       "Then why you no..." And then Luigi looked at the two men, really looked. He saw Justin's hair askew and Brian's rumpled suit and crooked tie. "OHO!! Luigi sees! Officer White and new friend find better thing to do than...eat! Luigi sees all! Nessun problema! Nessun problema! I wrap up!"

       "Oh don't go to any..." began Brian.

       "No trouble...No trouble...I wrap up!" said Luigi in a no nonsense, that's final type of voice that was useless to argue with. And before they could blink, the plates were gone and so was Luigi. The only thing remaining were the two small bowls of minty green icy gelato ice cream with chocolate chips dotted throughout.

       "It's useless arguing with him," Justin said in affectionate confirmation. He drew the curtain closed again and cuddled up to Brian again. The two men sat beside each other now in the rounded back of the booth. They ate their ice cream and occasionally fed each other a spoonful, mindful of each other's clothes.

       "So...how'd it happen?" Brian asked. He felt the other man tense and amended, "I mean, if you want to. I can understand if you don't want to talk..."

       Justin sighed. "No, it's OK. Truth be told, I was waiting for you to ask. They always do. Might as well get it out of the way."

       "I won't go into graphic detail. But, once upon a time, about three years ago, in my 22nd year, I was undercover with my partner, Cody. No..." he confirmed without having to be asked, "It wasn't personal, just my police partner. But we were getting there. He was gay too. He called us the Pink Posse. And together we were dynamic. We brought down a lot of scumbags. But this time..." he took a deep breath, "This time it went wrong. Our cover was blown. We went in there...and they just knew. We ran for it but there was nowhere to run. Shots rang out everywhere. I got two before I was able to pull open a door and get out of there. Down a hall. Down some stairs. Out. We were out. We were running out of the alley and he was just...he was just there. We were trapped. He shot Cody point blank in the chest. He would have shot me too but I was too quick for him. I shot him. I shot him and I was glad. I went back to see if there was anything I could do but there was nothing. Cody died almost instantly. His heart had beat once, maybe twice shedding some blood upon the snow. I closed his eyes and got the hell out of there. There was no time to do anything. I wished I could have done something...anything but I couldn't think...I couldn't think of anything to do." He teared up a bit. I ran to safety, phoned it in, and then went home. When I woke up...I was like this."

       "Oh my God! And people make fun of you for that? That's terrible!"

       "A lot of people don't know the details. Some are strangers and call me White the way they call a guy Slim or Fatso. They don't think. Others know but the story has faded through time for them. They don't remember. And so they only see me because I'm all that's left. To some people, I simply am white haired, have always been white haired. And so the names stuck. And now that's all it is...another name...it's not even an insult anymore."

       Brian grabbed him and dipped him deeply across his lap again. "I make a solemn promise. I will never call you those names. Never." And he sealed the promise with a deep kiss.

       When he pulled back there were tears in Justin's eyes. "Thank you," he said simply. "I'm going to hold you to that." He reached up and stroked Brian's cheek. Brian leaned into it. And then he pulled Brian down for another mind mushifying round of kissing.

%##%&%#Remember last December?^*^&$

       "Oh hell! It's 8:00 o'clock! I have to go!"

       It was a little while later. It was simply too soon.

       "Do you have to?" Brian said languidly. A full stomach, a case of blue balls, and an adorable man draped and cradled in his arms had him feeling lazy.

       "Yes. I'm afraid so. I have to go to work. But I should be done by midnight."

       "Call me when you're done?

       "Brian? Are you sure you want this?"

       "What do you mean?"

       "Being a cop's wife...lover...boyfriend...whatever...It's a big responsibility. Being a cop is a dangerous job. I can be injured. I have been injured. I could get captured. I could...go missing...or...be killed and you'd never know. Sometimes the not knowing is the worst of all. Would you be able to handle that?"

       "Well, I certainly don't want any of that stuff to happen to you. And isn't it a little soon to be thinking along boyfriend/lover lines. And Brian Kinney is definitely no wife!"

       "Yes, I noticed that," Justin said, giving Brian's dick a squeeze. Brian gasped as such a pleasure shot through his dick that he nearly shot right there. "Husband then...and I know it's soon...but I felt it the moment I saw you this morning. I wanted you. I needed you. And I could see that you wanted me too." He looked up into Brian's eyes. "If I was wrong, tell me now. No one gets hurt, we had a great dinner, a great date. And we can leave it at that. But I don't feel like that. I feel like you are my lover, have been my lover for a few years now. Tell me I'm wrong and I can walk out of here, no apologies, no regrets."

       Brian looked down at the crystal blue eyes that were so clear and wide and open. He watched as the feathered lashes came down over them as he blinked and then looked at him some more as Justin talked. And as he looked, he was lost. He knew he could not live without seeing those eyes the first thing next morning and the last thing when he went to bed tomorrow.  With many, many rounds of fucking in between.

       "You're not wrong. I look at you and I feel the same way. But I'll be honest with you, Justin. I don't understand love, just fucking. Nobody's ever loved me before and I haven't loved anybody either. But I will be your lover. Somehow...I always have been. Haven't I?"

       "Yes, I think so too. But my question still stands. If something happens to me tonight...or any other night...could you be strong? I could come back to you stabbed or injured in the hospital. Could you stand it? I could end up...like Cody. I could..."

       "Oh stop, stop!" Brian hugged him to his chest and pressed him close, "Stop talking such terrible things! You'll wish them on yourself! And honestly, I don't know! I don't know! To have such terrible things happen to you...would be like having them happen to me! I'd hate it! But I'd be there for you! But how bout you give me a bit of a break? It's our first night. Can't you just give me a promise or a token so that I'd know if something were to happen to you?"

       "Actually...that's a really good idea Brian. And I can do both."

       Brian released him. "What do you mean?"

       "First, the promise. I promise to call you on the stroke of midnight. If something goes wrong or I'm injured you will know if you don't get a call at midnight."

       "Next, the token. I want you to have this." Justin pulled back his sleeve and unsnapped a leather bracelet he was wearing. This was given to me by my grandfather who was given it by his grandfather who was given it by his grandfather who was given it by...well, you get the picture. It goes many generations back and is supposed to be imbued with special magic."

       The bracelet was two thin leather straps joined together with a short length of rawhide with three black beads strung through it. Justin snapped the ends of the leather onto Brian's wrist and the three beads rested on the bottom of his wrist, right on the pulse point. He explained that he had the snaps put on; it originally tied on. Justin held the beads and said "Guard me with his life."

       "Isn't that..."Guard this with your life?"Brian asked with a wink.

       "No. According to my grandfather. I was to say those words when I placed it on the one I was to give it to. He probably meant a grandson but since that ain't going to happen...I determined to give it to my lover. Which is you. The magic was that as long as I am alive the pearls would move freely on the string. If anything should...happen, the pearls would become fixed. And I believe it."

       "Why?" asked Brian.

       "Shortly after my grandpa died, they became fixed and immovable. They have never moved...until right now."

       They both looked in awe at the three black pearls (for that's what Brian could see they were now) which spun and slid along the rawhide, clacking a little against the ends of the leather.

&^#@%-Eat cold food or make something in a crock pot - It generates less heat than a stove^&(_)*&

       Brian paced the floor of his Loft. Again.

       What the fuck was wrong with him? He should be reading or watching TV or having an innocent drink of Jim Beam or going out to Babylon or...something.

       But he couldn't read more than a page at a time before realizing he'd forgotten everything he'd read in the first place. The TV was insipid noise. He'd had a drink an hour ago and it had hyped him up so much he was afraid to take another. The idea of the crush and heat and smell of sex and sweat of Babylon made him want to puke when he thought of it. Besides it was about 10 o'clock. Not enough time to get there and back before Justin called. Better to stay home.

       Brian sat down on his couch and luxuriated in the fine Italian leather. Justin would be fine. This was his job. Did this every day. Night Whatever.

       Almost as a reflex, Brian moved his wrist and heard the comforting "clack...clack" of the pearls as they moved back and forth. Justin was fine. He was alive. He was fine. He was.

       After he had given him the bracelet, Brian had whipped out one of his business cards and indicated his cell number which was the number Justin needed to call. He wrote his home address on the back.

       "You will come to me...tonight!" Brian growled out in his best throaty, vampire, mind control voice while staring deeply into Justin's too blue eyes but feeling a little hypnotized himself.

       "Ohhh...yes SIR!" Justin had replied before Brian could resist no longer and crashed down his lips upon his for the last time. Justin kissed back and then tore himself away and had said, "But now I really gotta go. I will call you at midnight. Farewell!" And then he was gone.

       Brian was left with his arms feeling empty and useless, with his soul feeling as equally as bereft and abandoned, and with a huge bill that he could easily afford. He'd thrown down a few Franklins without even looking, received the proffered cardboard take away packages ("Luigi, every eco-friendly! No icky styrofoam at Luigi's!") and had left.

       And so here it was a few hours later. Bored and tired and hyped and worried out of his tree.

       "Clack..clack..." He was alive. He was okay. He was. It was 10:30.

       Brian's head lolled.

       Blood upon the snow. Snow White. Shots in the dark. Rose red on white snow. Somewhere in the dark Brian heard a snarling, a low growling. A white wolf stepped out of the blackness. Its fangs glistened and foam dripped from its mouth. It snarled and barked and jumped at Brian's throat. Brian punched and ducked and hit...nothing... He looked over and saw a pool of blood on the snow. And then two wide and staring too blue eyes....

       "NO!" Brian jerked up, his own eyes wide and wild with sweat on his forehead. He breath was heaving and he jumped up and paced again. He went and got a glass of water.

       "It was a nightmare. Just a dream.

       "Clack...clack."

       Brian checked. It was 11:00.

       Damn it! Damn that stupid little twink! He'd filled his head with all this fatalistic shit and now he couldn't get it out of his head. He was going to be fine. He was.

       "Clack, clack."

       He paced a bit more and checked the clock. 11:10.

       He paced again and checked again. 11:05.

       What the fuck!! Did the time seriously go backward? Was he going nuts? It had been 11:10! Hadn't it?

       Brian flopped onto the couch again and closed his eyes. A pair of sky blue eyes looked back at him. Wide and staring.

       Brian's eyes snapped open and he jumped up again. He paced and paced and paced again. He wouldn't close his eyes again.

       11:30...11:45...11:55....Brian began to heave. It was almost time. He stopped. He couldn't move. He stared at the cell phone on the coffee table like it was alive.

       11:58

       11:59

       12:00 AM. Midnight.

       The phone didn't ring.

       Brian sat down and stared at the goddam phone, willing it to ring

       It didn't.

       He concentrated harder. Ring!! Ring!!

       The phone didn't ring.

       12:01

       No. No. No. Nononononono....

       12:02

       "Clack! Clack!"

       He was alive. He had to be. He had to. The pearls moved. Where was he? Where the FUCK was he? He promised he'd call. Why wasn't he calling?

       Capture. Torture. Shot but alive. Blood on the snow. Tied up and gagged. Helpless.

       12:05

       He wasn't calling. Something was wrong. Something went wrong. Horrible images of blood, of torture, stabbing, cement shoes filled Brian's mind. He pressed his palms against his eyes and sat, rocking willing them away but the darkness only made them all the more real, clearer.

       12:10

       There was a keening sound, a primal sound of despair, hopelessness, helplessness and grief that Brian had never heard before. With astonishment, he realized it was coming from him.

       At exactly 12:12 AM his cell phone rang.

       At the first ring, Brian thought he had imagined it. He stared at it like he was seeing a ghost.

       The phone rang again, vibrating as it did so. It moved on the table sounding like an electronic fart.

       Brian snatched it up. He dropped it. He grabbed it again and opened it with shaking hands. "Hello!" he growled.

       "Hi Brian! We got ‘em!" Justin's voice was like vocal sunshine.

       "Justin! What the HELL! You said you were going to call at midnight! I thought...I thought..."

       "Why Mr. Kinney!" Justin's voice was a sexy purr that went straight to Brian's dick. "Were you worried about me?"

       "Of course not...I...I - I was concerned because YOU were late!"

       "But I wasn't late. Did you know that midnight...real midnight is actually a little before or after 12? Tonight...midnight was exactly 12:12 AM."

       "I did NOT know that! You might have said something before!"

       "I didn't know you didn't know."

       "Well, I DIDN'T! Do you have any idea what you..."

       "Yeeeeeeeesss???" Justin's voice was vocal velvet.

       "Nothing." Will you just get over here?"

       "Why, Mr. Kinney! Were you waiting there for my call?"

       "You know damn well I was!"

       "And Mr. Kinney! Were you checking your pearls as you waited for me?" the sexy purr was working even more powerful magic than the pearls.

       "I - I - Yes. I was."

       "And Mr. Kinney! Were you counting the minutes waiting for my..."

       "WILL YOU JUST GET YOUR NUMBER 18 HOT COP ASS OVER HERE...NOOOWWWW!!!!!" Brian bellowed.

       "On my way." He hung up.

^(&$Pressing your forehead on a icy windowpane($^()(

       Buzzzz!!!

       "Yeah?"

       "This is the police! Open up! I'm looking or a big growly wolf of a man named Brian Kinn - "

       BUUUUZZZZZZ! The door was unlocked.

       Justin opened the heavy front door and went inside. He climbed the stairs to correct floor and knocked on the heavy loft door.

       "Who's there? Who knocks on my door?" said a growly voice, rough with desire.

       "The Pitts PD! A young man fair of face and hair of spun gold. Well, it used to be."

       "Oh, I seeee! So one of the Pitts finest...Pigs knocks on the door of my brick house. Why should I let you in? You're late!"

       "I may be knocking on a house of stone but this little Pig is more interested in...wood. I didn't mean to be late. Let me in."

       "From now on midnight means 12 AM. That's twelve oh oh AM! Understand!"

       "All right. I understand. Oh Brian, I'm sorry. Really I am. Come now. Open the door and let me in!"

       "Swear you'll remember!!" The voice was rougher with desire, with pain, with raw need.

       "Twelve oh oh! I swear I'll remember! I swear by the hair on my chinny chin - "

       The loft door exploded open, off to the side. Two arms reached through and Justin was grabbed, lifted off his feet and pulled through. The door bounced back, slammed and locked.

TBC