Chapter 1

"GODDAMITTOFUCKINGHELL!!! You call this swill coffee? What the fuck is wrong with you? You can't even get the coffee right!"

"I quit! You, you big bully!" With that, Brian's temporary secretary/assistant grabbed her belongings and slammed out of Kinnetik N'rgy. The force of the door slamming vibrated the whole building. Simon was about to go in but then he thought better of it when he heard Brian's coffee mug crash against the wall.

Jeff and Ray had just come home from school as the secretary ran crying from the office. They ascended the stairs into their own apartment where they were greeted by Ken.

"Uh, dad? I think Mr. Kinney is having another one of his moments," Ray stated as Jeffrey nodded.

"I heard. That's the third secretary in two weeks. I thought she was going to make it."

"Nope," Jeff observed as he flopped onto the sofa. Ken went to the kitchen, took out a large thermos and poured the contents of his coffee maker into it. Then he took the offering down to the raging beast. As he got to the hallway, Simon peeked out of his office.

"Going to brave the lion?"

"Yeah, and with a fresh brew. If I'm not out in fifteen minutes, send in a search party."

"Okay, baby. What are we going to do with him? I'm beginning to regret offering him the office," Simon said with a loud sigh.

"Honey, don't give up on him yet. You remember how you were when you were first starting out."

"Not one of my fondest memories. I was a real asshole and I nearly ruined our lives."

"Oh, Si, no you didn't. And we both made mistakes during that time but we're stronger now. He's been gone from his family for three weeks. He misses them so much."

"I know. Try to get him to go home. He needs to get laid and he needs his family."

"I'll try." Kenny steeled himself then threw open the door to Kinnetik N'rgy and walked in.

"Hiya, Sweetie!" Ken cheerfully addressed Brian in his most queenly voice. He quickly poured the coffee and placed the cup in Brian's hand. As Brian took a sip, Ken looked around the office.

It was early Fall, Brian and Kinnetik had decided that it was time to take on New York. If Brian could come up with a killer ad for the gaming software, it would be launched in time for Christmas and put Kinnetik N'rgy on the map of Manhattan. John had arranged for a local construction crew to remodel the office in Brian's image but due to a strike, many of the materials weren't available nor the men to work them. So Brian was trying to keep up an image of a swanky young up and coming ad agency in an office that looked like a tornado had hit. Brian was miserable, the ad looked like shit, his sinuses were acting up, he had a constant headache and most importantly, he missed Justin, Bree and Gus. Brian missed his peaceful home. He had gone from top dog in Pittsburgh to a bottom feeder in New York City. And to top it off, Brian wasn't happy with any of the assistants the temp agency sent over. None of them could make a decent cup of coffee. Brian missed Cynthia.

Brian Kinney was not happy!

"What am I doing here?" Brian muttered to himself. He was wearing one of his favorite suits and it was covered in plaster dust. "This has got to be the biggest mistake I've ever made. No, I take that back, pushing Justin away a hundred times was my biggest mistake. But this runs a close second."

"Honey, don't give up. I know you're going to make it," Ken tried to cajole him.

"No you don't. The ad is shit. The office is shit. Those assistants are shit and this is the first good cup of coffee I've had in three weeks. Maybe I should go home."

"Now that's the first smart thing you've said in days."

"Huh?"

"Go home. Take a long weekend to recharge your batteries. It's Thursday, Brian. Go home, get laid, spend time with that beautiful man of yours and your beautiful little girl. Come back next Tuesday. Leave me the ad and I'll take a crack at it."

"You? Shit, that didn't come out right."

"No offense taken. Tell me your ideas." Brian got up and paced as he made his pitch.

"All the mock-ups I've seen look the same as every other computer game on the market. Something gets blown up, something crashes..." Brian paused as he looked at the mess he had made on the wall. He blushed with embarrassment.

"We'll put a frame around the stain. Everyone will think it's modern art. Go on, honey."

"When the boys tested the games they all said that each disc held six totally different games. If you wanted to climb a mountain, you could or go undercover as a spy. And there were clues hidden in each game. If you solved the clues, you could combine everything into one big huge game. The boys just wanted to keep on playing. You had to use your brain, not just the joystick to blow something up. I want something that connotes mystery and fun. Gus said the effects are so real, especially if you hooked it up to a large screen TV or monitor. He felt like he was going to fall off the mountain. And the reward wasn't just in the score. You played against yourself; you had to beat yourself."

"A long way from Pac-Man, isn't it?" Ken said with a smile.

Brian relaxed and smiled back. "I've been a real bitch, haven't I?" Ken nodded. "Your partner going to cancel my lease?" Ken shook his head no.

"Unless of course, you knock a picture off the wall the next time your door slams shut."

"Fuck."

"Take my advice, Brian, go back to the hotel, back your little bag and go home. Things will look much better next week." Brian poured more of the coffee into the cup and seriously thought about what Ken told him.

"You're a good man, Kenneth Mann, and so is your partner. I'm outta here. I'll let Cynthia know and have N'rgy's calls routed to Kinnetik, then I'm gone. You guys will have a nice quiet weekend."

"Thank goodness!" Ken took the empty thermos, gave Brian a bear hug then let himself out.

"Ken?" Simon was peering out of his office again.

"All clear. The beast is going back home," Ken stated all smiles.

"I don't know how you do it, baby."

"It's all in the delivery. Besides, I had a nice long chat with Emmett. Apparently Brian has a soft spot for us flaming types. The brighter the flames, the more we can get him to listen." Simon hugged his partner as they both laughed.

"I have a soft spot for you too," Simon whispered into his partner's ear.

"You mean a hard spot, don't ya? Don't be late and I'll make sure you're duly rewarded."

"I love your rewards."

"You better!" Ken's jovial laughter echoed up the stairs.

*****

A few hours later Brian's taxi pulled into the lane of the cottage. It was already dark on the cool September night. Brian wondered if Bree would still be up. She shouldn't be, but he wanted to hold her and kiss her little blond head. And Justin would be up. They both would be. Brian felt the smile spread across his face. He could hardly wait for the welcoming peace of the cottage.

"Sixty-three dollars," the driver said as he pulled up to the house.

Brian grimaced. That was a lot for a fucking cab ride, but it was the most efficient way he could think of to get home from the airport. He pulled out his wallet and peeled off a hundred dollar bill.

"Keep the change," he said as he pulled his bag out of the back seat.

"Thanks, man," the driver said. "If you ever need another lift, my number's 469."

Brian smirked at the last two digits. "I'll be sure to remember that," he said trying not to sound too sarcastic. He turned and walked up to the house. He fished out his key and placed it in the lock. As he turned it and started to open the door, he heard a loud crash.

"What the fuck?" he gasped as he pushed the door open. He just caught a glimpse of Justin carrying a screaming Bree down the hall to her room.

"That was very bad, Briana. Now stay in that room and don't make another noise," Justin shouted, followed by the slamming of what had to be Bree's bedroom door.

Brian stepped into the entranceway and looked down the hall. He could see Justin standing outside Briana's room. Bree's wails were echoing through the door.

"Bad Daddy," she screamed. "Bad Daddy!" This was followed by another round of blood curdling shrieks.

Then things seemed to quiet down a bit. Brian could hear his daughter still crying but more softly. Then there was a thud, thud, thud against the door.

"Stop kicking the door, Bree," Justin said trying to sound reasonable even though his pulse was racing and his breath was short and erratic.

"Bad Daddy!" she screamed again. More bangs against the door were heard.

"Briana, stop hitting the door with your shoe," Justin demanded.

"Bad Daddy!" Bree sobbed. "I want my Dada."

Brian felt his heart clench in his throat. What the fuck was going on?

"Justin?" he said.

"Jesus," Justin said grabbing his chest as he whirled around. "You scared the fuck out of me."

"Dada, Dada, Dada!" Bree wailed having heard Brian's voice.

Brian started down the hall.

"Don't you fucking touch that door!" Justin yelled.

Brian stopped in his tracks. "What the fuck is going on? It's like World War III in here."

"I know, but don't you dare let her out. She has to learn."

The look on Justin's face told Brian he better stay where he was.

"Come into the living room," Justin ordered and walked past Brian leaving a sobbing Bree behind the closed door of her bedroom.

Brian could hear Bree calling, "Dada," and his heart nearly broke. He looked down the hall at the closed door and took a tentative step towards the bedroom. Then he thought better of it turning to see Justin staring at him from the entrance to the living room, and obviously waiting to see what he was going to do. Brian decided he better deal with Justin first. Hearing another pathetic cry of, "Dada," he steeled himself and walked towards Justin.

"Are you going to tell me what the fuck is going on, and why I can't go pick up my daughter when she's so obviously in distress?" Brian said trying not to sound too threatening. He was barely containing his temper.

"You have no idea, Brian," Justin said with a long sigh.

"That's right, I don't, so fucking tell me!"

"I could use a drink," Justin said as they both could hear Bree sobbing and banging her shoe against her door.

Brian walked to the bar and poured them each a large scotch. He needed one as much as Justin did. Justin followed him and they both sat down on the sofa taking a sip from their drinks. Brian waited.

"Bree was fine for the first couple of weeks that you were gone," Justin began. "But this last week she has been totally getting out of hand."

"How does a three year old get out of hand?" Brian asked with a frown.

"You should have been here and then you'd know." Justin wasn't able to keep the accusation out of his voice.

"You agreed to me opening the office in New York," Brian said testily. "I can't do that and be here too."

"I know, I know," Justin sighed rubbing his hand over his eyes. He was so fucking tired. Bree had consumed his last drop of energy, and she was still down the hall crying loudly. "It's just that I have this show that I'm getting ready for and Bree has been such a handful."

"Handful?" Brian asked wondering when Bree got to be that. She had been fine when he had left, and he had talked to her on the phone every day until recently. Lately Justin had said she was sleeping or over at Patrick's, or something, every time he had called. "What happened? Why didn't you take her to school if you needed some time to yourself?"

"I did. She went two days this week, and then the daycare called and asked me to come get her."

"What the fuck for?" Brian demanded.

"She took off her little pink sneaker and threw it at one of the little boys. Hit him in the head with it."

"Christ!"

"And then she refused to say she was sorry, and tried to do it again."

"What's gotten into her?"

"We've spoiled her. She's totally out of control. You heard her just now."

"She was crying for me. Why wouldn't you let me go get her?" Brian asked knowing that he could calm Bree down in just a few seconds.

"Come here," Justin said standing up and walking towards the kitchen. "She had asked me about twenty times if she could call you at dinner time. I tried getting you but it went to voicemail every time."

"I was probably on the plane," Brian said.

"Anyway, she wouldn't give it a rest; no matter how many times that I told her you couldn't be reached. She kept asking for you over and over and over again until I couldn't stand it anymore," Justin sighed. "She's so fucking stubborn."

"So what caused this?" Brian asked as he looked at the disaster area that was the kitchen. Food was scattered all over the table and the floor. There was a puddle of what looked like apple juice, or pee, next to the shards of a broken glass.

"She refused to eat her dinner and started throwing it across the room. She was screaming for you. That's when I stuck her in bed. She wailed and wailed, and finally I heard her calling for me. She said she was sorry and she was thirsty. I carried her out here to get a drink. She wanted to hold the apple juice glass herself and when I let her, she threw it at the counter."

"Threw it? Are you sure she didn't drop it?"

"She threw it! Believe me, I know the difference. She's a willful little … brat. And I never thought I'd say that." Justin looked ready to cry.

Brian scrubbed his hands over his eyes. This was the last thing he had expected to come home to. He should have stayed in fucking New York, New York. He had come home for some peace and quiet and the loving arms of his family. But all he had found was anger and crying and chaos.

"Let me go get her," Brian said starting to stand up.

"And what, Brian? You go get her this time and then next week you go back to New York and it starts all over again. I can't take it."

"But…" Brian didn't know how to finish that statement. Some part of him knew that Justin was right. This wasn't the time to give in to Briana's willfulness. "Can I at least hold her in the morning?" Brian asked with a sad look on his face.

"Of course, you can," Justin sighed.

"Then I guess I can wait," Brian said. He looked longingly down the hall towards Bree's bedroom. He so wanted those little arms around his neck. He could make Bree happy if he only had the chance. But he knew Justin was right. He turned to look at his husband. "You look exhausted."

"I am. Fighting with a three year old is hard work," Justin said shaking his head.

"Why don't you go take a shower and I'll clean up some of this mess," Brian offered.

"Do you mind?"

"No, go ahead."

"Just don't let Bree suck you into letting her out of her room."

"I won't."

"Good." Justin went into their bedroom and Brian got the broom and dustpan and started sweeping up the food scattered around the kitchen. Briana's crying and calls had died down. In fact he couldn't hear her anymore so maybe she had exhausted herself and fallen asleep.

Brian soaked up the apple juice and carefully cleaned up the shards of glass. He put everything away before walking down the hall to the door of Briana's room. He stood outside with his hand on the knob. There were no sounds coming from within, and he so wanted to open the door and look at his beautiful little girl, even if he couldn't pick her up and hold her. He drew in a deep breath and turned away. If Bree woke up there would be hell to pay. It was better to leave it for tonight and hold her in the morning when Justin had said it would be all right. Maybe she would have learned her lesson by then.

Brian made his way back to his own bedroom picking up his bag that still sat where he had dropped it at the front door. He made sure the door was locked and then walked to the bedroom door thinking about how great a freshly showered Justin was going to smell, and all the things he had been wanting to do to and with his husband for three long weeks. He pushed the door to the bedroom open and looked at Justin who was sound asleep on their bed.

It was going to be a very unfulfilling night, he thought, as he quietly closed the door and got ready for bed.