"Brian, your brother is on line one," Cynthia told her boss.

"My brother?" Brian frowned still often taken by surprise that he had a brother. Then he had a small shudder of fear. It wasn't like John to call him at work. "Put him on," Brian said quickly. "John? What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. Don't get your knickers in a knot," John laughed.

"I'll do whatever I fucking please with my knickers. Why are you calling me at work if nothing's the matter?"

John laughed again. "Easy, little bro', I have a favor to ask."

"How much is it going to cost me?"

"Cost you?" John asked puzzled at Brian's reaction.

"Sorry, but you are part of my family and when they want a favor from me it usually costs me … dearly."

"I come from the other side of your family," John joked only too familiar with some of the things Brian had been hit up for by members of his family, at least according to what Justin had told him. "I don't want or need your money."

"Right," Brian said with a chuckle. "I must have mistaken you for a Kinney. You're an Anderson, right?"

"You got it. Now shut up and listen for a minute," John demanded.

"Yes, big brother," Brian said with his best imitation of contrite.

"Bobby's going through a rough patch with his family."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," Brian replied wondering what could be going on between them.

"They seem to think he'll get over being gay if he eats the right food or something. They think he's throwing his life away … especially being with me."

"Then they don't know fuck all! You and Bobby are perfect together. Can't they see he's happy?"

"They don't want to see that. I went to dinner with them the other night. It's the first time we've done that."

"How did it go?" Brian asked. He had a meeting with a client in fifteen minutes. Why did family shit always take so long? He wished John would get to the point.

"They made an effort and I made an effort, and all in all it wasn't too bad. I used you as an example of how Bobby could still have a family. I showed them that picture of you and Justin and Gus."

"You did?"

"Yeah, I hope that was all right."

"I … guess so. Shit, I never thought of myself as the poster boy for anything, let alone for gay families. Poster boy for fucking maybe…"

"Anyway," John said drawing Brian back into the conversation since his mind seemed to have wandered. "We'd like you and Justin to meet the Morrisons. Could you come for dinner Saturday night … here at the farm?"

"I'm not a great one for dinner parties," Brian admitted.

"I've seen you at the family gatherings. You'll be fine. I want them to see a committed couple who have a good life and a family."

"I don't know, John. I'm liable to shoot my mouth off and make matters worse."

"I have faith in you, and Justin will be there to keep you in line."

"Of course," Brian chuckled. People always thought Justin could keep him in line, but that only worked when Brian wanted it to.

"Let me talk to the blond brat and I'll get back to you."

"Okay, but I'd really appreciate this, Brian."

"I'll let you know."

Brian hung up the receiver. He hated formal dinner parties. He always managed to piss somebody off, especially after he got sick of making small talk. John didn't know what he was asking, or what he might be getting himself into.

Looking at his watch, Brian decided he could make a quick call to Justin. He was about to dial when another thought struck him. He dialed a different number. All this talk about family must have affected his brain.

"Comics," the familiar voice answered.

"Hey, Mikey."

"Brian," Michael smiled at the sound of his friend's voice. "What's up?"

"I just wondered if you had heard anything from Hunter."

"I … um … no."

"You were always a pathetic liar. What's going on?"

"I … I have heard from him. He's okay."

"That's good. Where is he?"

"He wouldn't say," Michael lied. "He's not ready to come home yet, but he's all right."

"Well, that's something, I guess."

"Yeah, at least he's safe."

Brian frowned. He wondered how Michael could call a runaway out on the streets safe. He glanced at his watch. "I have to go, Mikey. Glad you heard from him."

"Yeah, me too," Michael said and hung up.



*****



"Hunter," Claire said as the boy came down the stairs. "You look better today. More color in your face."

"You mean to go with the black and blue already there," Hunter replied.

"The bruises are fading. You'll be good as new before long."

"Yeah, right," Hunter said sarcastically. "I'll never be good as new."

Claire frowned. She was trying to cheer him up but she had no frame of reference about how to do that with someone who had HIV. Hunter had been there for a few days now and he was getting stronger physically, but his emotional state didn't seem to be improving.

"I was just going to make a batch of cookies. Do you want to help me?"

Hunter stared at her and decided to lay on the test. "Aren't you afraid I'll infect them and you'll all get AIDS?"

"If I was afraid of that, I'd never have asked you to help in the first place," Claire replied annoyed at the boy's tone. "Go outside and play with Beau if you don't want to help me." She turned back to arranging her cookie supplies on the counter.

"I … I'm sorry," Hunter said realizing how rude he was being to this woman who had been feeding him the best meals he'd ever had. "What can I do?"

Claire smiled to herself. She had always found a little blunt honesty opened people's eyes. It had worked once again. "Reach that big bowl on the top shelf for me. And be careful, it's heavy. I think we'll make a double batch." She smiled at Hunter who couldn't help but smile back.

Hunter set the bowl on the counter as Claire turned the oven on. "What else can I do?" Hunter asked.

"Put that softened butter in the bowl and measure out two cups of sugar." Hunter did as he was told. "Are you ready for your first lesson in creaming?"

Hunter almost choked on his own spit at that comment. "What … what do you mean?"

"We're going to cream the sugar and butter together. What did you think I meant?"

"Um … nothing. I'm ready."

An hour later the two sat at the kitchen table eating cookies warm from the oven. Hunter thought they were just about the best thing he had ever tasted in his whole life, and he now had a whole new understanding of the concept of creaming.



*****



"Brian? Do I look okay?"

"More than okay, good enough to eat," Brian said with a licentious grin.

"Stop that. I mean, do I look nice enough to meet Bobby's family?"

"Yes, Justin, you look very nice. With not a blatantly homoerotic hair out of place. What about me?"

"Gorgeous as ever."

"Good. Maybe I can charm Mrs. Morrison."

"Not a good idea. Brian, I wonder why we're staying here at the cottage and not the main house."

"Claire's probably fed up with all the noise you make when we're fucking. John and Bobby fuck quietly."

"Asshole. Get it all out of your system now. I want you on your best behavior when we meet Bobby's parents."

"Yes, dear. John said Bobby's sister is going to be there. Maybe I can work the old charm on her. Justin, why are you laughing?"

"Cause you said old."

"Justin, can it! You're not too old to spank."

"Never happen."

"Oh yeah? Why?"

"Because I may like it too much then we'll never leave this cottage, then John and Bobby will get angry at us for ruining their dinner, then I'll get angry cause I won't get any of Claire's cookies that I know she baked and then you won't get laid."

"Shit!"

"So let's go and if you behave yourself, my ass will be yours later tonight and you can have it any way you want."

"I'm behaving, I'm behaving!"

Instead of walking through the woods, Brian and Justin took the Cherokee for the short drive to the main house. They both were dressed casually yet with that touch of elegance that never eluded Brian or Justin when Brian picked out Justin's clothes. Brian looked like the successful man he was but without airs. Justin had grown up with the country club set and knew how to conduct himself. They both wanted John, Bobby and Claire to be proud of them.

"Ready, Sunshine?" Justin smiled and nodded. Only a few minutes fashionably late, they knocked on the door then let themselves in.

"There you are!" Claire exclaimed as Brian and Justin walked into the living room. John snuck a peek at his watch and winked at his brother in appreciation. Bobby let out the breath he was holding when he saw what Brian and Justin were wearing, fearing that they would either look too gay or too snobby. Rachel gasped at the sight of the two deliciously gorgeous men and Mrs. Morrison smiled. Only Dr. Morrison remained reserved, preferring to pass judgment later.

"Come in and meet everyone. We have some time before dinner." Claire ushered them in and John stuck a beer in Brian's hand but not before giving Brian a look of pleading.

"Only one," Brian whispered and John nodded. Introductions were made all around and Brian made it a point to give Dr. Morrison one of his best ad exec firm handshakes. Brian had no intention of fostering any homophobic stereotypes.

John and George were talking sports while Mrs. Morrison insisted on helping Claire in the kitchen. Before Justin could offer his assistance, Rachel, her brother's closest ally in her family, asked Justin to show her the albums that Justin had put together chronicling their recent journey. Justin beamed one of his best as Brian rolled his eyes.

"Don't get him started, Rachel, we may never eat," Brian quipped. Justin gently smacked Brian's arm then plopped down beside Rachel on the couch and started explaining about the hundreds of pictures they had taken and about their trip. Justin's genuine enthusiasm was contagious. Even Dr. Morrison couldn't help but smile when they came to the part about their walk through the jungle and Brian's battle with the dreaded dart frog. Brian maintained his composure and dignity and was duly rewarded by John with another beer. John knew Brian could handle it.

Dinner was scrumptious and the conversation ran the gambit between local politics, Bobby's law firm and Justin's artwork. It was all going wonderfully well until dessert. Brian was passing the cream to Justin, when Justin's hand went into spasm. A shock of pain ran up Justin's arm and he dropped the creamer, spilling its contents onto Claire's tablecloth.

"I'm sorry," Justin cried out. Without thinking Brian immediately grabbed Justin's hand and began to massage away the cramp as he did so many times in the past. He drew the boy closer, protecting him from unseen curious eyes and softly cooed words of comfort into Justin's ear.

"It's bad, Brian," Justin whimpered softly.

"I know, you've been working too hard. It's okay, it's almost over. Do you want to take something?"

"No."

Claire and John cleaned up the spill. Mrs. Morrison remained silent, slightly embarrassed about the obvious loving touch Brian had. Dr. Morrison couldn't help but inquire.

"A muscle spasm?" the doctor asked. Justin nodded. "Do you get them often?"

"Only when I overuse my hand. I've been working on an important project. I guess I overdid it today."

"You're very young to experience such spasms. Is this the result of a previous injury?" Justin nodded again and buried his head into Brian's shoulder.

"Dad, maybe you should drop it," Bobby stated, unsure of how Brian's protective nature would react to his father's questions.

"It's okay, Bobby," Brian spoke up, then whispered something into Justin's ear and Justin nodded. Brian encircled Justin in his arms and continued to massage Justin's hand.

"Claire, I think we made need some more of your coffee and I wouldn't mind a cookie or two," Brian requested.

"Of course, dear."

As Claire refilled every one's cup, Brian gave the Morrison's a lesson in growing up gay in the big city. Without bias or cursing, Brian told them of how a brave young man fought his way back from a coma to become a politically active, productive citizen and art student in one of Pittsburgh's finest art schools. He spoke of how the love that Justin had in his heart helped Brian to become a better father to Gus and how Justin's tenacity led the way to finding the Andersons. And in turn the paintings. Brian told them about Rage, about the Vic Grassi home, about Stockwell and about Jason Kemp. He spoke about the prom, about the night that Justin could never remember and Brian could never forget. He spoke about Joan and how she tried to destroy their family and how Craig disowned his son. And he spoke about the love and respect he had for the little blond in his arms and that no one would ever hurt Justin again as long as Brian Kinney lived and breathed.

Justin looked up into Brian's eyes and gently thumbed away the lone tear that was slipping down Brian's face. Justin's smile lit up the room and Brian sighed one of his queenly best. Brian swept the hair back from Justin's forehead revealing the scars that Justin proudly bore. He looked up to see Dr. Morrison nod.

"Justin, may I examine your hand?" Justin held out his hand for Dr. Morrison.

"The spasm seems to have abated. Must be all the care your partner has rendered. I suggest you give your hand a rest this weekend. I'll even write you a note for your professors if you need it for Monday." Bobby's father smiled at Brian and Justin, then ruffled the blond's hair.

"Claire, your dinner was wonderful and if you don't mind I'd love another cup of your coffee, perhaps decaf this time if you have it, and I'd love to see more of your album, Justin. Tell me more about those frogs."