Brian watched Gus and Gabriel playing on the swings at the park and his heart swelled in a way that was still uncomfortable but was becoming familiar. Gus, who was patiently pushing Gabe on the swing, was the ideal big brother. The fact that he now had a little sister and a little brother seemed to bring out the best in Brian's boy. Gus loved taking care of Jenny Rebecca and Gabriel. And Gabriel idolized his older brother. He loved the fact that ten-year-old Gus always had time to push him on the swings and never seemed to get tired of playing with him.

Brian could still remember the day he'd brought up the idea of having a child. It had actually been their fifth anniversary and they had decided to spend a month in Bali to celebrate. They'd been strolling along a moonlit beach in paradise when he'd casually asked if Justin ever thought about the possibility of having a kid. Justin had been shocked, but tried to play it cool, much to Brian's amusement. He'd said, "Um, yeah, I've thought about it. But I love Gus and don't really need..." Brian had cut him off and explained that he'd thought about it too. Then he'd laid out his plan and his conditions.

The first condition was that they would not ask the munchers to do this. Brian wanted there to be absolutely no chance that another child would be put in the middle of the power struggles that sometimes still happened with Gus. He had researched and found a good surrogacy agency and had even contacted them to put in their initial application. If Justin agreed, they'd meet with the counselor when they got back to Pittsburgh. To further remove the potential for custody issues, Brian wanted to use a separate egg donor from the surrogate.

The second condition was that Justin would be the sperm donor for this child. He didn't explain to Justin, but Brian wouldn't be surprised to find that the little twat suspected his motivations. What he'd told Justin was that he'd already had his kid and it was Justin's turn. That was true enough, but there might have been room for debate if Brian didn't believe that the radiation from his cancer a few years back had greatly reduced his chances of fathering a child. He'd never been tested because he really didn't want to know and it didn't really matter. Besides, it would be nice to have a miniature version of Justin around.

The final condition was that they would hire a nanny until the baby was old enough to start preschool. Brian refused to let Justin give up his career to become a full time stay at home father. Yes, Justin worked from home, but he did work and he needed that work. It was part of who Justin was.

He'd also tried to throw in a couple conditions about changing diapers and three am feedings, but Justin wouldn't let him get away with that. So, they went through the steps and found the perfect donor-blond, blue eyed, artistic and intelligent-and the perfect surrogate. And in August of 2008, Gabriel Andrew Kinney Taylor had been born. He'd looked like a tiny little angel.

He still looked like a little blond angel, but Brian knew that behind those cherubic looks, a little demon lurked. Just like his Daddy.

Gabriel had just turned three a couple weeks ago and Gus would turn eleven in couple weeks. Despite the age difference, the brothers adored each other and looked forward to these weekends when they could be together with their Daddy and Papa. JR often joined them on their weekends. Now that Michael wasn't in the picture, she needed a good male influence in her life.

Michael. Brian sighed as he thought of his former best friend. The man was on a headlong course for self-destruction. After returning from London six years ago, Brian had sought out Ben Bruckner in the hopes that the college professor would have more hope of getting Michael to see sense. It had seemed to work for a while. Michael had started going to therapy and hadn't attempted to approach Brian or Justin for almost three years. Lately, though, he'd been falling back into old patterns.

But Brian wasn't Michael's only problem. Michael had always felt that he somehow came out the loser when he compared himself to Ben, or anyone for that matter. He'd made comments on occasion about feeling more equal if he was HIV positive like Ben and Hunter. Ben had freaked out at that. Then he found that Michael had put pin holes in all of their condoms. He threw Michael out of the house for a few weeks, but eventually let him come home.

Michael's self-esteem problems didn't go away, however, and eventually led him into the arms of some loser. He was fucking around with Carlos for almost six months before Ben had discovered them fucking in the back of the comic book store. Michael had tried to salvage things, but when Hunter went back to school that fall, Ben had taken a position at a university in California and that was the end of that. Michael was thrown into depression and stopped doing anything. The comic went on hiatus, he lost the store, lost the house, and was now living with his mother and Carl.

Then, about a year ago, Mel had gone to pick up JR from one of her visits with Michael and had found Michael passed out cold on the sofa-too drunk and high to remain conscious-while JR screamed her head off trying to get her Daddy to wake up. Mel had petitioned the court to restrict Michael's visits until he got his shit together, and had won. Michael could still have supervised visits as long as he scheduled them with Mel and Lindsey in advance, but he hadn't asked for one since the hearing.

Debbie was at her wits end. Michael moaned and complained about how unfair life was, but never did anything to make it better. He got a job managing some Laundromat but spent all his money on booze and drugs.

Brian didn't know what he could do for Michael without being sucked into his vortex of self-destruction.

Brian shook off his melancholy thoughts and smiled as he watched Gus and Gabriel chase each other around the playground. Michael may have been too stupid to appreciate what he had, but Brian wasn't.

BJBJBJBJBJ

Justin was singing along to the radio as he drove home from the gallery. He'd just dropped off the last pieces for his upcoming show, Brian was at the park with the boys and would probably take them for ice cream afterward, which if he was lucky would give Justin an hour of down time in the loft. He loved his husband and their children, but life could get awfully hectic at times.

He pulled around the corner onto their block and stopped his SUV in the middle of the road. There were police cars and fire trucks lining their street and he could see smoke pouring out of a building. Not just any building, their building. He pulled over to the side of the road, his mind racing. Oh god. Were Brian and the boys home? What if they came back early, or decided not to go? Justin pulled out his cell phone and hit Brian's number. It rang three times before Brian picked up. He was laughing as he said hey and Justin could hear Gabe's giggles in the background.

"Thank god," Justin sighed. "You're okay? You and the boys?"

"We're fine," Brian said with a hint of confusion. "We just had ice cream and were headed back to the loft. What's going on?"

"There's a fire," Justin said, his voice shaking as reality hit him. "Our building. Our home."

"I'm on my way right now," Brian said. "We'll be there in ten minutes."

Justin sighed after hanging up and put his head down on the steering wheel. A few minutes later he heard a knock on his window. It was one of the police officers.

"I'm sorry, sir, but you can't stay here."

Justin shook his head. "That's my home. That was my home, at any rate."

The officer looked him over and nodded. "If you come with me, I'll take you to the fire chief. The fire's almost out now, but they still have quite a bit of work to do before they allow anyone back in the building."

Justin climbed from his car and followed the officer to where a man in uniform, presumably the fire chief, was shouting into a radio. Justin waited for him to finish and then introduced himself and explained that he and Brian owned the top two floors of the building.

"Was anyone hurt?" Justin asked. They didn't have many neighbors, but there were a couple other people who lived in the building.

"No, thankfully," the chief sighed. "Mr. Taylor, do you know of any reason that someone might target your home for arson?"

"Arson?" Justin said, his brow wrinkled with uncertainty. "The fire was set deliberately?"

"The arsonist used an incendiary device and targeted two areas in your home, one looked to be the art studio, and the other was the upstairs bedroom."

Justin shook his head. "I don't understand. Someone used two bombs in our house?"

The chief looked at Justin steadily. "Molotov Cocktails. Bottles filled with flammable liquid with a rag in the mouth of the bottle. The rag is lit and the entire thing is thrown. When the glass breaks, the liquid is dispersed along with the fire. Your downstairs neighbor heard some banging; we believe that the perpetrator was using a crowbar on the door. Then, a few minutes later, she smelled smoke and caught sight of a man running out the front door. In the meantime, the alarm company acted quickly and we were able to get here fast, limiting the damage that was done structurally, but most of the furniture and personal items were either burned or will be ruined by smoke and water damage. I'm sorry."

Brian ran up to them just then, Gabriel on his hip and Gus following close behind. He grabbed Justin in his arms and held on tight. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Justin said, though he felt far from okay. He took Gabriel into his arms, to reassure himself and their son that everyone was okay. "Brian, this is Chief Kowalski. He said someone broke in and set the fire deliberately."

"Fuck," Brian whispered, mindful of Gabriel's listening ears. He put a hand on Gus' shoulder, aware that his son felt he was too old for hugs in public anymore, but would need some comfort as well. "Any idea who it was?" He aimed this question to the fire chief.

"The witness described him as white, late thirties or early forties, dark hair, about five foot nine. He was wearing a black sweatshirt with a rainbow flag on the front." The chief looked at them carefully. "Sound familiar?"

Justin and Brian were saved from having to answer when Carl Horvath walked up to them.

"You working this case, Carl?" the chief asked. Obviously they had worked together before.

"No, Mike," Carl said. "I heard the call on the radio and recognized the address. I just came by to make sure Brian, Justin and the kids were okay."

"We were all out," Justin said. "I just came back from the gallery and saw...this. Brian had taken the boys to the park."

"They said arson on the scanner," Carl said. "Any leads?"

The chief repeated the description and Justin watched as Carl's face paled. He looked about as sick as Justin felt. "You all seem to have the same reaction to that description," the chief said. "I take it you know him?"

Carl nodded slowly. "It sounds a lot like my stepson. He's not been real stable lately and he's got a grudge against Brian and Justin. Mike, if it is him, I'd appreciate it if you gave me a chance to talk to his mother first and try to get him to turn himself in."

"I'll keep this to myself for now," Mike said. "But I'll need to take action in the next twenty-four hours. The department won't wait any longer."

Carl nodded and shook Mike's hand. When the fire chief had gone, they all just stood there looking at each other. Eventually Carl cleared his throat and asked. "Do you know where you're going to stay tonight? I'd invite you to the house, but..."

"But Michael's there," Brian finished with a sigh. "We'll get a hotel room. Don't worry about that. I want to be there when you confront Michael."

"I'm not so sure that's a good idea," Carl hedged.

"I'm not going to hurt him," Brian said with an annoyed huff. "I just want to be there."

Carl looked at Brian for a long time, and what he saw must have convinced him of Brian's sincerity because he finally nodded. "Okay. Let's get Justin and the boys taken care of first, and then you can come with me."

BJBJBJBJBJ

Brian followed Justin's SUV in his own car. They went to Lindsey and Mel's place first. Gus was looking a bit freaked out, and Gabriel was ready for a nap, so Brian left Justin there to make some calls and find them a place to stay and maybe get some clothes and necessities for them. The girls were all hovering about and being supportive, which was one reason Justin wanted to be there and Brian did not, so he left and met Carl at his and Debbie's place.

Carl was sitting in his car by the curb when Brian pulled up, so Brian opened the door and climbed in.

"I found a couple empty containers of charcoal lighter fluid in the back shed," Carl sighed. "He did it and I've been sitting here like a coward, too scared to tell Debbie."

"She's a strong lady," Brian said. "She'll get through this, if you help her. Just watch for the fists until she's calmed down. Who knows who she'll try to hit? Or who will get caught in the crossfire."

Carl nodded and opened his door. Brian followed him up the sidewalk and into the house. Debbie and Michael were both there. Michael was sitting at the kitchen table while Debbie tended to a burn on Michael's arm.

"I swear to god, Michael, if you don't tell me how you got burnt, I'm going to take you outside and beat you," Debbie threatened.

"Yeah, Mikey, how'd you burn yourself?" Brian asked, drawing the attention of both mother and son.

Michael's eyes were red and bloodshot. He looked shaken and panicky and high as a kite. He pushed his mother away and stood up from the table. "I... I... I don't know what you're talking about!"

"There was a witness, Michael," Carl said. "And I found the empty charcoal lighter cans in the shed."

"What the fuck did you do, Michael Novotny?" Debbie yelled.

Michael looked like he wanted to make a run for the back door, but Brian had moved around to block his path. "She's going to find out soon enough, so you might as well tell her."

"I didn't do anything!" Michael said, but his voice was less insistent, and they could all see him breaking. "I didn't do anything."

"Where did you get the burn?" Brian asked again.

Michael sat heavily on a chair and looked up at Brian. "It was supposed to be you and me, forever. Then HE came along and ruined everything. And Ben sided with him too. Said I was being unreasonable. Said I needed to let it go. And I had everything and lost everything, and it's all his fault!"

"Your broken marriage and poor choices have nothing to do with Justin," Debbie scolded her son. "God, Michael. How many times do we have to go over this? Grow the fuck up! Take responsibility for your actions and grow the fuck up!"

Michael looked around at each of them for a long time before he started crying. "I... I set the loft on fire."

Debbie, who was the only one who hadn't known already, looked ready to pass out. She looked to Brian and Carl. Carl nodded. She looked to Brian and asked, "Justin? The boys?"

"They're safe," Brian assured her. "We were all out when it happened. The loft is totaled, though."

"You little shit!" Debbie screamed and started hitting Michael repeatedly while he tried to curl himself into a protective ball. It would have been funny if she wasn't sobbing as she swung. Eventually Carl pulled her away and held her while she cried.

"What happens now?" Michael asked in a subdued voice.

Carl, who was still holding Debbie said, "You turn yourself in and pray to god that the judge goes lightly on you."

"He'll need a lawyer," Brian said. "I'll make a few calls."

"Wait," Michael said, looking panicky again. "Can't you make this go away? Brian? Carl?"

Carl shook his head sadly. "There's no way this is just going to go away. Even if Brian wanted to let this pass, there's no way the prosecutor's office will. Michael, you burned down a building. You could have killed somebody."

"But nobody died," Michael argued. "And you don't have to tell them it was me."

"Michael Novotny," Debbie said, coming back to her old self at last. "If he doesn't, I will! You could have killed somebody! Brian, get the lawyer. I want this done today."

Brian made the calls.

BJBJBJBJBJ

By the time Brian got back to the munchers' he was emotionally and physically exhausted. It had taken several hours to get the lawyer to the house and the arrangements made for Michael to turn himself in. Then he'd driven Debbie to the precinct while Carl took Michael and the lawyer. Another couple hours were spent while Michael was questioned and booked. Debbie looked like she was going to fall apart, but she held it together until Carl took her home and Brian was finally able to go meet Justin.

Justin, too, had been busy. While Gabe slept, he called around and found a short term furnished apartment used by traveling executives. It would be cramped, but they would be able to rent by the month. The place had two bedrooms, a living room and a small kitchen. It was downtown, so Brian would be close enough to work to walk if he wanted.

He also called his mother and told her what had happened. She promised to start looking for a semi-permanent place for them. Even if they decided to rebuild, it would be months before they would be able to move back in.

Mel and Lindsey kept the kids that afternoon while Justin went to buy enough clothes and other necessities to last them a few days. While he was out, he called Cynthia, who promised to call the insurance company. Then he called Emmett, who met him at Station Square to help him shop. He also let Justin cry for their lost home.

By the time Brian got back to Mel and Lindsey's, Justin had Gabriel ready to go, excited about the grand adventure they would have. He was sure the three year old would see through his deception soon enough, but it was enough to keep him happy for the moment. They didn't even have his favorite stuffed animal, the black lab puppy that Daphne had gotten him in the hospital when he was born. Bedtime was sure to be a chore without Wags.

Brian had stopped to pick up dinner on his way to the munchers', so he simply followed Justin to the long-term hotel and helped get them checked in when they arrived. They didn't have any luggage, but Justin had many bags from some of Brian's favorite shops, so he figured they would be okay for a while.

The apartment was clean and modern, but very impersonal and cramped. The kitchen, dining area and sitting area could have fit into Gus' old bedroom at the loft easily. There were two bedrooms separated by a functional bathroom. It was like living in a hotel, only with a few extra amenities.

Dinner was a quiet affair, with Gabe supplying most of the chatter. It had been a long day for all of them, and soon Gabe was yawning. Justin helped him in the bath, and then dressed him in his pajamas. Then it was Brian's turn to take over. Brian wasn't always home in time for dinner, but he always made sure to be home for Gabe's bedtime story. It was their private ritual, one which Justin only took over if Brian was out of town. Justin handed Brian a new book about a hippopotamus and a matching stuffed animal. It wasn't Wags, but it was worth a try.

An hour and many tears later, Gabe was sleeping in the small bedroom Justin had assigned as his and Brian needed a drink. Justin, thank all that was good in the world, had a glass of scotch poured and waiting for him.

"I knew it was going to be tough," Justin sighed as Brian joined him of the sofa. "I'm sorry."

"He can't seem to understand that Wags is gone," Brian sighed. "Hell, I'm not sure I understand it yet."

"How's Debbie?" Justin asked. They had talked a couple times during the day, but never long enough to get into details.

"She's a mess," Brian said. "But Carl's doing a pretty good job keeping her together. She would swing from cursing out Michael to crying about losing her baby. She doesn't blame either of us. In fact, she wanted me to ask if you wanted to have dinner there this week, since we can't have it at the loft."

"That woman is insane," Justin said with an appreciative smile. "I got you a couple suits, and shirts for work, but most of what I got was casual. I know how much you hate when I try to dress you, so I stuck to the essentials. The apartment has all the kitchen items, linens and furniture in place, so I didn't have to worry about that."

"What about art supplies?" Brian asked. "You need to paint."

Justin nodded. Painting was how he processed things and dealt with his emotions. "I'll go to the art supply store tomorrow. It was enough just dressing the three of us today."

"Not tomorrow," Brian sighed. "The fire chief called. If we want to look for anything salvageable, it will have to be tomorrow when they can spare someone to escort us. They won't let us back in otherwise while the investigation is ongoing."

"Shit," Justin sighed. "Okay, I'll call Emmett and see if he wants to baby-sit for a few hours." They were both quiet for a few minutes then Justin leaned into Brian's side and closed his eyes.

"The lawyer is going to ask that Michael go into a psych hospital at the arraignment on Monday," Brian said quietly. "He's really messed up. He's still obsessed with me and still blaming you for everything that goes wrong in his life. At the very least he needs detox. He was so high when we went to the house that I'm surprised he remembered doing it."

"Well, I'm sure that prison isn't going to help him get better," Justin said. "Tell his lawyer I'll speak on his behalf if he thinks it would help."

Brian nodded. "We should probably get some sleep. Tomorrow looks like it's going to be another long day."

"I'm not looking forward to sleeping in a strange bed," Justin said tiredly.

"Hey," Brian said and tipped Justin's face up to look into his eyes. "At least we're all safe and together. The rest is just stuff. It can be replaced."

Justin nodded and kissed Brian. "I know. That's been my mantra all day, but right now, with as tired as I am, all I can think about is our wonderful bed and how we'll never get to sleep there again."

"We'll get a bigger better bed," Brian promised.

"I'm going to hold you to that," Justin said with a genuine smile.

BJBJBJBJBJ

Gabe was excited to be able to spend the day with his Auntie Em, so Brian and Justin were able to get away without much ado and meet the fire investigator who would escort them through the loft. Carla Prentice was waiting for them on the sidewalk and ushered them up the stairs.

On entering the lower level of the loft, all Justin could think was thank god no one had been home. The walls and floors were scorched, the furniture, what was left of it, was nothing more than charred cinders, fabric and metal. There was nothing left of Justin's work space.

"You see this pattern in the wood here?" Carla said. "This is where the first fire was started. The darker pattern indicated that a flammable liquid was used and the residue on the glass will tell us what kind. This area burned hotter because some of the paint supplies were flammable as well."

"Charcoal lighter fluid," Brian told her. She obviously hadn't heard that Michael had turned himself in. "We know the guy who did it. He used lighter fluid. He turned himself in last night."

Justin ignored the rest of their conversation as he went into Gabe's room. The fire damage wasn't as severe in there, though the water damage ruined pretty much everything else. He grabbed Wags from Gabe's bed and tucked it into the bag he'd brought with him. It was wet and smelled of smoke, but Justin would try to get it clean for his son.

He skipped the bathroom. There was nothing there worth saving. Gus' room was far enough removed from the fire that he was able to find a few items that Gus would probably like to keep. His army men, the kite Brian had bought for them to fly on their last vacation to the beach, the trophy he had won at the state spelling bee two years ago... Justin tucked it all into his bag.

They went upstairs and Justin almost cried. The open floor plan had allowed the fire to spread freely through the space. Their bed was gone, nothing left but cinders that used to be the frame. Brian was standing by the closet, the door now missing, staring at the shadows inside.

"It's just stuff," Justin reminded him with a gentle touch to his arm.

Brian nodded and went in. He had always kept their most important papers and back-ups of their files in a fire safe on the top shelf. He found the safe on the floor buried under a pile of ash and debris. He opened it and found that everything was still intact. Justin's first drawing of Brian, their passports, the copy of their civil union certificate, the USB drives with their pictures and personal financial files, the USB drive with the itemized inventory and pictures for the insurance company, his cowry shell bracelet. It was all still there. Brian put them all in the duffle bag Justin had given him and left the closet.

They looked around for a little longer, but it was obvious that there wasn't much worth salvaging here.

"At least you didn't lose any paintings," Brian said after they thanked Carla and were back in Brian's car. Justin could still smell the smoke from the loft clinging to them as they drove and he rolled the window down. "They were all at the gallery, right?"

Justin nodded. "I had just taken the last of them to be stored in their vault until the show. All of my sketchbooks tough..." HE couldn't think of that or he'd begin to cry and he wasn't sure he could stop once he started. "We should stop at the dry cleaner. I dropped off a few things on Monday, so we should have a few things clean there. And we can see if they can do anything to save Wags."

They went to the dry cleaner and then, since Emmett wasn't expecting them back for a while yet, Brian took Justin to the Art store. Justin got only the basics. He wouldn't have room for more than that until they found someplace a little bigger than the temporary apartment. They went to lunch at a quiet restaurant that Brian often used to entertain clients.

"We need to decide what we want to do," Brian said after they had been served their drinks. "The loft has been getting a bit cramped lately, with Gus and Gabe and the studio... But it's been our home for a long time. Should we rebuild, or do you want to start looking for something new?"

Justin sipped his soda and thought for a minute. "I've always loved the loft, and if this hadn't happened, I'm not sure I would have ever wanted to leave it. But now... Well, even if we rebuild, it will never be the same. And you are right, it has gotten cramped. And will be more cramped as Gus and Gabe get older. And my studio was right out in the open where Gabe gets into things."

"So what do we do?" Brian asked.

"Well, mom's already looking for something for us, why don't we see if there's something we would like permanently?" Justin asked. "As for the loft, we'll have to do something with it. Even if we choose to sell, it'll have to be gutted and cleaned out. The floors will all need to be stripped and sanded down and the brick will need sand blasted to get rid of the black marks. All the interior walls removed. Or we could rebuild it and rent it out. Maybe buy out the other owners and turn it all into rentals. Or rebuild it and sell it. I don't know."

"It's definitely a more desirable neighborhood now than it was ten years ago," Brian said. "We'll talk to an architect and see what the project will cost before we decide anything. But I think you're right about not moving back. I don't think I would ever be able to walk through that door and not see the charred remains of our home."

"So we get Mom to change her search criteria," Justin said. "What exactly are we looking for?"

"At least five bedrooms," Brian said. "JR's been staying over a lot lately, and she'll need her own room as she gets older. Studio space for you. An office for me. A separate family room where the kids can play with their toys or we can all watch a movie. Outdoor space for the kids to play. Safe neighborhood. Privacy."

"It sounds like you want to move out of the city," Justin said tentatively. "It would be rather difficult to find all that even in a penthouse."

Brian slowly nodded his head, as though a picture was forming in his mind. "Ten acres minimum, with a pool and tennis court. A garden where we can throw parties for clients and family. Woods surrounding the property. Maybe stables. Do you think Gabe would like to learn to ride?"

"Jesus Brian," Justin laughed. "That's a huge change from our life at the loft. And do you have any place in particular in mind?"

Brian gave Justin one of his patented smirks. "I might have been thinking about a change for a while now. And I might have spent a few afternoons looking at various properties. And I might have found one that I think will be absolutely perfect for us."

"You might have," Justin said with a grin.

"Maybe," Brian said.

"And is this hypothetical piece of heaven on earth still on the market?" Justin asked.

"It just so happens to be," Brian said. "I was going to surprise you today, actually. There's an open house and I was going to drive out there and see what you thought about moving. But then the fire..."

Justin looked at his watch. "Can't we still go? I can call Emmett and see if he can keep Gabe a while longer. Or we could pick him up and bring him with us."

Brian smiled, "Call Emmett."

BJBJBJBJBJ

The house was only about thirty minutes outside of town, closer than Justin had thought it would be. There were only two cars in the entry courtyard when they pulled in. Justin stared at the huge house from inside Brian's car. The brick Tudor style was only five years old, but gave the appearance of a much older home. There was ivy growing on a trellis to one side, next to a sunroom. The landscaping on the place would cost them a fortune, but it would be worth it.

They made it to the front door just as another couple was exiting. From the husband's mutterings, the wife was not going to get her dream home. The house had been on the market for some time now, and the owners had brought the price down several times, but it was just too big for most buyers in this economy. Brian thought he could get the house for a fraction of its original price. They could borrow the funds from their various cds and savings accounts, rather than taking out a mortgage, since the interest they gained from those accounts was less than the interest the mortgage lenders would charge, and repay those accounts over time. The insurance money should get them started on furnishing the house.

"Welcome!" They were greeted at the door by an effervescent woman who made Jennifer Taylor look downright stodgy in comparison. "I'm Sheila, the listing agent for this property. There is an information sheet on the dining room table, and refreshments in the kitchen. Show yourself around and I would be happy to answer any questions you might have."

Brian led Justin through the downstairs first. There was the large formal living room, the sunroom which overlooked the gardens, the gourmet kitchen, the dining room, the study, the powder room, and the library. Then they went to the second floor. There were six bedrooms, including two Jack-and-Jill suites, with one private bathroom shared between two bedrooms, a guest suite with an en suite bathroom, and the master suite which had a walk in closet four times the size of their closet at the loft.

The basement was partially above ground where the ground sloped away from the house before leveling out again. The underground portion held a storage area, a workout room, another full bath, and a large laundry room. The family room had a billiards table and a built in large screen home entertainment system both of which came with the house according to the info sheet. There was a bar at one end of the large room, and the wall of French doors led out to the patio and pool deck.

They walked outside and Brian showed Justin the deck that ran the length of the house on the main floor. There were stairs built on either side of the deck which lead down to the pool deck. And from where they stood by the pool, Justin could see the entire garden, the tennis courts just beyond the four car garage, and the stables in the distance. He decided that he didn't need to explore those places, but he did want to check out the pool house. What he found amazed him. It was easily as large as one floor of the loft and had French doors on three sides. The best part was the three skylights. It had heat and air conditioning, so could be used year round, had a full bath and a kitchen near the built in grill which was nestled between the house and the pool house.

"I thought you could use this as your studio," Brian said, echoing Justin's thoughts. "And we could still use it when we entertain. So, do you like it?"

"Good lord, Brian," Justin said with exasperation. "What do I think? There's absolutely nothing about this place not to like."

"Good," Brian grinned. "So we can put in an offer?"

"Well..." Justin hesitated. "Are you sure we can afford the maintenance on this place? I mean, it'll need landscapers, pool maintenance, and a housekeeper-because, damn, I'm not trying to keep this place clean-then there's the cost for utilities in a place this size and the property taxes..."

"Justin, we can afford it," Brian said calmly. "Do you really think I would bring you out here if I hadn't run the numbers? I even included the increase in our vehicle maintenance costs. We can afford it. I promise. Even if we don't sell the loft. It will take us about ten years to rebuild our savings to what it is right now, but we'll still have plenty in the bank, and we also have the trust if we really need it. So answer my question. Do you want to put in an offer?"

Justin nodded emphatically and hugged Brian tightly. "Yes, please!"

Brian hugged him back and laughed. "Good, now call your mother. She's about to earn a commission for a really big sale."

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Monday morning, Justin and Brian took Gabe to preschool and explained the events of the weekend to his teachers. He'd been okay for the most part, but he still had times when he was out of sorts. Justin believed that getting back into their normal routine should help, but wanted them to let him know if Gabe seemed upset or acted out.

Afterward, they drove together to the courthouse. Michael's hearing was scheduled for first thing that morning. They met Debbie and Carl in the hall outside the courtroom and exchanged greetings. They were all tense. None of them really wanted Michael to go to prison, but he couldn't keep going the way he had been. He needed help more than he needed punishment. They all just hoped that the judge would see it that way.

When the doors opened, they all made their way in and took seats in the front row. It was only a few minutes later that the lawyers entered and Michael was escorted into the room. The court was called to order and the hearing began. It was a drawn out process, where Michael's lawyer presented an evaluation from an independent psychiatrist and the prosecutor presented the evaluation from the state's psychiatrist. The judge seemed to be leaning towards the prosecutor's argument, so Michael's lawyer called on Justin to speak.

Justin was nervous. When Chris Hobbes had been tried, he'd still been in the hospital and hadn't been required to testify. Despite that, he felt like he was in a different time and place for a moment.

"Mr. Taylor, can you describe your relationship to the defendant?"

Justin paused to think about it. "Well, I wouldn't call us friends. We've moved in the same circles for a while now. He was my partner's best friend for many years, but when I came along, Michael didn't like me all that much. He made that very clear from the beginning. He and Brian had a falling out about nine years ago over Michael's comic book. Since then, Brian has made it clear to Michael that he considered their friendship to be over."

"And yet you approached me in order to speak on Michael's behalf. Why is that?"

Justin hesitated again. "Because, despite the blinders he has where I'm concerned, Michael is essentially a good person. He loves and is loved. He would do just about anything for his friends and family, or at least he would before he got sick. He's not a criminal. He's allowed self-pity and jealousy ruin his life and it broke him, emotionally if not mentally. This man is not the same man I met eleven years ago. He's become obsessive and self-destructive. I honestly think he needs help more than he needs punishment."

"That's all," Michael's lawyer said and sat down.

Now the prosecutor stood for his turn. "This is not the first time Mr. Novotny has acted out in violence towards you, is it?"

Justin frowned and had to think about that. "No, I guess it isn't. When he and Brian parted ways, Michael blamed me and tried to take a swing at me, but Brian stopped him."

"He also said that you should have died when another student attacked you after your prom, did he not?" Justin snorted. How the hell had this guy dug all this up over the weekend?

"Yes, he did."

"And yet you maintain that this man is good? I'm not sure what your definition of a good man is, but I'm pretty sure it's different from mine."

"I define a good man as one who takes care of his mother, works extra hours at a job he hates so that he can help her pay her bills because his uncle was dying. I define a good man as one who always looks out for his friends and tries to keep them out of trouble. A man who takes in a homeless hustler and gives him a home and a family who love him. No, Michael isn't perfect. Nobody is. He's made mistakes. Unfortunately, those mistakes have snowballed into what we are faced with today. Michael is hurt and confused and angry. Yes, he's directed that anger towards me, but that doesn't change the fact that he needs help. I believe with everything that I am that Michael can become the man he once was if he gets some help."

The prosecutor looked at Justin shrewdly for a minute and asked his final question. "Let's suppose that the court sends Mr. Novotny to a psychiatric facility and a year from now, the doctors deem him cured. Would you, Mr. Taylor, trust him to be around your son?"

Justin didn't even have to think about that. "Yes. If Michael was clean and sober, and acting like the man I knew before, yes I would. Michael, the real Michael, would never ever hurt a child intentionally, even if he hated his father."

"One final question," Michael's lawyer said once the prosecutor sat down. "You described your relationship with Mr. Novotny in terms of what it isn't. What is it?"

Justin smiled. "What else forces you to deal with each other's shit even when you can't stand being in the same room with each other? Blood or no, for better or worse, we're family."

The judge thanked Justin and Justin took his seat beside Brian again. Justin watched Michael through the rest of the hearing and realized that the dark haired man kept looking at him with something akin to incredulity. Did Michael really think that Justin would try to send him to prison? Yes, he probably did.

Less than twenty minutes later, the judge addressed Michael. "Mr. Novotny, you are very lucky to have friends and family who will stand up for you, even when you have hurt them. My first inclination was to deny your request. As far as I can see, you are coherent and relatively sane. However, Mr. Taylor's defense of you has swayed me. I am remanding you into the care of the Three River Psychiatric Hospital-which I believe was arranged and is being paid for by Mr. Kinney, the other victim of your crime-until such time as they see fit to release you. After which you will serve one hundred hours of community service.

"Mr. Novotny, I suggest that you take steps to fix whatever it is that is broken, because if I see you in my court again, I will throw the book at you and you won't see the light of day for a very long time. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, your honor," Michael murmured. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me, boy, thank your friends." After that the judge banged his gavel and it was over.

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Later, after the hugs were over and Michael had been escorted away in the care of two orderlies from the hospital, after Debbie and Carl had gone to see where Michael was going to be staying for the foreseeable future, Justin and Brian went back to their car and began the trek back to their hotel.

"I didn't know we were going to pay for his treatment," Justin said with a wry smirk.

"Yeah, well, have you ever seen the county run places? They aren't any better than being in prison. I couldn't let him go there." Brian looked sheepish.

Justin grabbed his hand. "It's fine. And Debbie will feel better about it too, I'm sure."

"You did good today, Sunshine," Brian said. "Thank you."

"I only told the truth," Justin said. "I'm not sure Michael and I could ever be friends after all this, but we are family. Dysfunctional as hell, but family nonetheless."

Just then Justin's cell phone rang. It was his mother. "Hey mom, what's up?"

"How'd the hearing go?" Jen asked. "Did the judge let him go to the hospital?"

"He did," Justin said with a smile. "He's remanded into their custody until they release him, at which time he'll have to perform community service."

"Oh, thank god," Jen sighed. "I'm not sure Debbie could have handled the guilt if Michael had gone to prison."

"It's a good thing we don't have to find out," Justin said.

"Oh, I have news for you, too," Jen said. "They accepted your offer. Closing is in two weeks contingent upon the house inspection."

"Shit! That's great, Mom!" Justin shouted. "Brian, they accepted our offer! We got the house!"

"Well, looks like we have more to celebrate than just the hearing," Brian said with a smile. "How about you ask your mom to pick up Gabe from school and keep him for the night? And you and I can have some time to ourselves?"

"I don't know. Gabe's been pretty anxious since the fire..."

"Justin Taylor," Jennifer scolded. "I am that boy's grandmother. I know how to get him settled down. He'll be fine."

"Okay, thanks mom," Justin said with a smile. "Listen, we need to go to the dry cleaners to see if they were able to get Wags clean. Then I'll go back to the hotel and pack a bag for Gabe. How about we meet for lunch and I can drop everything off."

"Sounds good," Jen said. "And tell Brian he has to come as well. There are a couple more forms you both need to sign."

"I will," Justin said.

They agreed on a time and place and then hung up. Brian was too pleased about the hearing and the house to sulk about lunch with the mother-in-law, so things were definitely going well. Wags, miraculously, looked almost brand new when they got to the dry cleaners. There was a very faint smoky smell, but Justin figured they could live with that. Gabe certainly would be happy. Considering everything that they had been through in the last few days, Justin was surprisingly cheerful and optimistic for their future.

They say that the best revenge is living well. Justin was sure that must be true, because they were safe, they were together and they were happy. And nothing Michael had done could change that.

The End