It never occurred to either Brian or Justin to ask which one of them was the real Santa. Both men had been focusing on something more important last night - namely Brian's sanity.

Brian had been certain he was either dreaming or going insane, whereas, Justin had been certain everything was real and was worried Brian would go insane once he learned the truth. Thankfully, they had both been wrong. Brian took the news quite well; that is, until Gus asked his question.

Those eight words spoken by his son reminded Brian of the timeframe for getting their affairs in order. That was when the reality of their situation set in.

Neither Brian nor Justin knew the answer to Gus' question, nor did they want to think about it at that moment.

"I think we need to leave that question to be discussed after the holidays," Brian suggested. "But, Gus, there is something we need to discuss before the rest of the family comes over this afternoon."

Gus looked at his father, he quirked an eyebrow in silent question.

Brian smiled at the boy then became serious. "You can't tell anyone about last night."

Gus rolled his eyes. "I know, Dad. I can't tell anyone, not even the moms or JR, about what happened. They'd probably think you guys gave me too much sugar or something."

Brian and Justin laughed.

"Besides, they wouldn't believe me anyway. They don't believe in Santa," Gus continued with a touch of sadness in his voice.

"Well, we know they're wrong." Brian pulled his son close. "But we have to wait to discuss who's going to be Santa. Personally I vote for Dad II. Did you notice how well that suit fit him?"

"Hey!" Justin laughed and playfully swatted Brian on the arm.

Gus giggled at his fathers' antics.

"You guys clean up in here. I'll make breakfast, and we need to get the turkey in the oven no later than 9:30." Justin headed toward the kitchen while Brian and Gus started cleaning up the discarded wrapping paper, ribbons and bows.

~*~*~*~

The holidays continued on without any discussion of the events of Christmas Eve. Gus returned to Toronto with his mothers and sister with a minimum of fuss, reassured that there would be future visits no matter what the future had in store for them.

Brian returned to Kinnetik; Justin returned to his studio. Both men knew they needed to discuss their unique situation; however, neither of them knew where to begin.

The upcoming Valentine's Day brought the matter into the open again when the gang met for lunch at the diner a few days prior to the holiday.

"You know, Brian, you should do something at Babylon for Valentine's Day," Emmett suggested, which earned him a scathing look from Brian.

"Actually, boss, that's not a bad idea," Ted added. "Themed events at Babylon usually bring in a lot of revenue."

"You could have the dancers dress up like Cupid. OH! They could wear little red Speedos with white fluffy wings!" Emmett clapped joyously at the image.

Justin shifted uncomfortably, remembering his desperate time as a dancer at Babylon and the night he had to wear those fluffy white wings. Brian reached under the table and rubbed Justin's thigh in understanding.

Emmett seemed to be on a roll as he continued on talking about how the dancers could dress as leprechauns for St. Patrick's Day and wear rabbit ears and white Speedos with a cottontail attached for Easter. For Halloween they could wear glow-in-the-dark body paint reflecting the skeletal system and for Thanksgiving some would be dressed as pilgrims and others dressed as Indians.

"And then for Christmas, you could dress as Santa and Justin could dress as an elf," Emmett joked with a laugh and the others joined in.

Brian and Justin looked at each other, knowing it was time to talk, that delaying it wouldn't help anything or anyone.

"Gotta go," Brian said brusquely. They both rose and quickly left the diner after dropping enough money on the table to cover their meals.

"Was it something I said?" Emmett asked the others.

They all wondered what had happened to cause the pair to leave so quickly without saying goodbye.

~*~*~*~

After a quick call to Cynthia letting her know he would be working from home the rest of the day, Brian and Justin made a silent drive home. Upon their arrival Justin made a pot of coffee while Brian changed from his suit to jeans and a black t-shirt. Then the two men settled into Brian's home office.

"Any idea which of us is the real Santa?" Brian asked his partner quietly.

"No. It doesn't matter though, because we're in this together. I'll have to go to New York, close down my studio. We can sublet the apartment until the lease runs out." Justin wandered around Brian's office, unconsciously massaging his right hand.

"You're not giving up your art, Justin. It's a big part of you," Brian insisted firmly.

"I'll still be an artist, Brian. Location doesn't matter. Besides, I don't paint twenty-four hours a day. There are days I never pick up a brush. We'll just have to take a lifetime supply of sketchpads." Justin joked, attempting to keep their discussion from becoming too somber.

"You can't give up your career. Fuck, Justin, you're just getting started," Brian growled with frustration.

"What about Kinnetik? You've worked damn hard to establish Kinnetik as the premier boutique ad agency in Pennsylvania. Are you going to give it up after only four years?" Justin asked just as frustrated as his partner.

"Fuck!" shouted Brian.

The room grew silent for several minutes.

"Brian... maybe we should try to contact Bernard... maybe there's a way that we won't have to give up everything we've worked so hard for." Justin watched closely for Brian's reaction.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Brian nodded in agreement. He stood slowly and crossed the room to his wall safe where he removed a small red box with a green button. Brian sighed as he pushed the button.

Justin crossed the room to stand next to Brian. A moment later Bernard stood before them amidst a shower of sparkling glitter.

"Is there a problem?" Bernard asked.

"Yeah," Brian said calmly. "Do you know which one of us is the real Santa?"

Bernard winced. "No, at least not yet. This has never happened before."

"Alright, fair enough. Now... you said we had until Thanksgiving to get our affairs in order. What exactly do you mean by that?"

Bernard started pacing. "Well, it's similar to moving somewhere new, which is what you will be doing. You need to sell any property that you own, but you also need to cancel any insurance policies, close bank accounts, cancel credit cards -"

"Wait a fucking minute," Brian interrupted angrily. "You expect us to just disappear? What about our son, our family, friends?"

"What are we supposed to tell them? Gus already knows what happened, but how do you think he's going to take finding out we won't be here?" Justin asked, anxiously running a hand through his hair. "This was the first Christmas that we were able to spend the entire vacation time together. He's supposed to spend two months with us this summer."

"You're not due back at the North Pole until Thanksgiving, so you'll have the summer to spend with Gus. And you can visit Gus anytime. He can even visit you," Bernard replied nervously.

"What about the rest of our family?" Brian asked. "How the fuck are we supposed to explain to them why we won't be around?"

"You can't tell anyone, at least not unless you can trust them to never tell another soul. No one can find out." Bernard pleaded with the two men.

The tension in the room was thick. All three men were pacing restlessly, each one lost in thought. Justin finally broke the silence.

"What about Brian's career? He owns his own advertising agency. He can't just give that up after working his ass off to make it the best agency in the state." Justin pressed his fingers against his temple, feeling a headache building.

"Don't worry about Kinnetik; I think I know how to handle the agency. What about your career, Justin? Yours is just getting started." Brian took Justin in his arms, one hand massaging the back of Justin's neck.

"I can paint anywhere," Justin replied softly.

"With a little Elf magic, anything is possible." Bernard smiled, knowing these two men would be able to work things out together. "I really need to get back to the workshop. While Santa is gone, I'm in charge."

Justin turned sharply at Bernard's last statement. "Wait, you mean Santa's in charge?"

"Of course. Santa's the boss; he makes the rules," Bernard said with a bright smile then disappeared in a twinkle of glitter.

Justin looked back to Brian, a look of surprise on his face. Brian had the same expression.

"That means -" Justin started.

"We make the rules," Brian finished.

The pair sat down and made a list of what needed to be done.

Brian decided that Cynthia and Ted could be trusted to keep the secret. It might take a touch of elf magic to prove to them that Santa does exist but Brian knew they were his most loyal employees and friends; both had proven that time and time again through the years. The two would be able to run Kinnetik in Brian's absence and only contact Brian when absolutely necessary.

Justin could continue with his career just as he had been doing for more than a year. Now he painted in his studio at Britin only traveling wherever necessary when his agent scheduled shows. It was reasonable that the New York apartment would be paid for through Kinnetik's earnings and employees meeting with clients in New York would use the apartment instead of staying in hotels while in the city.

After making their decisions regarding their careers it was time to discuss the family.

"I think Mom can handle the truth since she was the one who always told me Santa was real," Justin told Brian.

"You think she still believes?" Brian asked, worried that possibly Jennifer no longer held that belief.

"Yes, I think she does still believe," Justin replied. He licked his lips, unsure how Brian would respond to his own question. "Brian... why do you believe?"

A sad expression graced Brian's face before he answered. "When I was a kid Christmas was probably the best time of the year. We didn't get a lot of gifts or anything and mostly Claire and I got clothes and a couple of toys. Jack and Joan didn't want any of their friends or neighbors to think they couldn't provide for their kids... but as the years went by and Jack began to drink more, Christmas wasn't always pleasant." Brian reached for his neglected coffee cup to find the contents had gone cold.

"Come on; let's get some fresh coffee in the kitchen. We could both use some." Justin stood up, grabbing his own neglected cup and led the way to the kitchen.

Settled at the counter with a fresh cup of hot coffee, Brian continued his story.

"The teachers at school would always make us write a letter to Santa. I guess I was about nine or ten when one of the kids in my class found out the teachers were giving the letters to our parents. They wanted to make sure our parents knew what we wanted for Christmas. Of course, it was just a couple years later that the teachers figured we were too old to be writing letters to Santa. By that time Christmas wasn't such a great holiday at home. Jack was drinking more and more. Joan was spending most of her time at church or in a bottle of sherry. Christmas became just another day of abuse and neglect.

"When I was eleven, I spent Christmas Day in the ER. Jack had slapped me a couple of times because I didn't do something fast enough for him. I was running, trying to get away from Jack, ended up falling down the stairs, broke my arm. That was probably the only time he could honestly say I was hurt because I fell down. Anyway, the next year I decided to write a letter to Santa... I don't remember what prompted me to do it... I guess I just didn't want another Christmas like the year before. But all I asked for was a peaceful Christmas Day, one without a drunken father who hurt me and a drunken mother who turned a blind eye."

Brian huffed a strangled laugh. Justin placed a soothing hand on Brian's back, gently encouraging him to continue.

"I mailed my letter a week before Christmas. The only address I put on the envelope was Santa Claus, North Pole. I don't know what I was expecting, but on Christmas Eve Jack got sick and was rushed to the hospital... it was his appendix. Joan stayed at the hospital with him, Claire took off to a friend's, and I was left all alone at the house."

"Santa gave you what you asked for... a peaceful Christmas Day." Justin spoke quietly.

"I never asked for another fucking thing after that. Yet every Christmas after that year, was peaceful... no yelling or fighting, no hitting... Jack would disappear to the Union Hall to drink with his buddies and would pass out the minute he came home... Joan would spend the day in church and when she came home she would sit in the living room and read her Bible with a bottle of sherry... Claire... I don't really know what the hell she did. Then after I met Mikey, I'd spend most of the day at his house."

Wanting to bring his partner out of his painful past, Justin asked, "What are we going to tell Michael?"

"I'm not sure. I do know we can't tell him the truth. He's not a believer. Neither is Lindsay or Mel. And we certainly can't tell Emmett; all of Liberty Ave. would know before we finished telling him. We'll have to figure out something."

Justin nodded in agreement and the pair returned to Brian's office to continue with their plans.