It was just past dark when Brian drove down the winding road leading to the house Justin had christened Britin-- a mixture if their names, filled with hope and faith and dare he say it, love. It was perfect in its beauty, a sweeping Victorian home with a majestic landscape as far as the eye could see. The hills and valleys surrounding the estate had reminded Brian of the way his lips felt as they kissed Justin's body and the clear water in the lake reminded Brian of Justin's guileless eyes. But it had all been a lie. Or had it?

Brian pulled into the driveway, pressing the garage door opener and noticing that he'd actually beat Justin home for a change. That was also a new occurrence within their relationship. Justin had always been the one to arrive home before Brian and would have started dinner which is why seven was considered the magic hour within their house. It was a time when they would catch up on each other's lives, ending the night in front of the fireplace fucking or fucking anywhere else the spirit moved them. Brian missed those days most of all.

The house was in complete darkness by the time he'd reached the entrance of the mudroom off to the side of the kitchen. Since they had renovated, it was an open floor plan with no walls separating any space all the way to the front door. He walked into the living room area, looking around but something was...off. The whoosh of air sounded just before Brian felt the stinging pain within his back.

The hits kept coming even as Brian made to block them but they were fucking fast. Before he knew it, he felt his feet leave the ground and heard the crash of the coffee table beneath him. Gathering his bearings, he looked up into the angry pools of blue belonging to his husband.

"Get the fuck up," Justin yelled. "Dirty motherfucker. You've been lying to me for eight years."

Brian stood to his feet, letting his own anger spew forth. "I'm not the only one in this marriage that has secrets do I?" Brian drew back his fist and landed a solid right hook to Justin's side. And then the fight was really on.

Amid hurled insults, lightning fast movements, furious flying kicks and thrown furniture, Brian and Justin fought hard to one-up each other. Brian couldn't help but be impressed by how many times Justin had gotten the drop on him; it was as if Justin was weightless, moving on top of furniture, flipping every which way before Brian even noticed he was standing in front of him until there was searing pain to some other part of his anatomy. His lithe blond was agile and flexible, leaning and bending in ways that Brian would have thought impossible had he not been the recipient of the resulting pain in his person. But Brian wasn't a slouch either. He'd gotten the best of Justin using good old fashioned, city-boy-in-a-barroom brawl tactics-- a metal chair to the back here, throwing Justin into the nearest wall there and a good old fashion right hook or a left uppercut when warranted.

Then came the guns. And Brian learned just how accomplished at bullet bending Justin was. The blond stood on the stairs throwing his arm as if launching a curveball during a pitch and squeezed the trigger at the same time. Brian reasoned that if Justin had really wanted to kill him, he could have done so at any moment. So drawing his own weapon, Brian began launching shots to stop the bullets aiming for him midair.

To the average observer, this may have caused fear and trembling but to Brian and Justin...not so much. They kept at it, coming together again for hand-to-hand combat once the guns they were holding were out of bullets. Brian chased Justin down the long space nearly catching him until Justin jumped onto the kitchen counter, spinning fast and leveling the taller man with a roundhouse kick to the jaw. Justin's first inclination was to go to him, and make sure that Brian was alright. But then he remembered what he'd just heard that afternoon and became pissed off all over again.

He backflipped off of the counter, landing on his feet near Brian's head. "Give it up, old man."

"Fuck....you," Brian countered slightly out of breath and still reeling from the fact that he was not only in pain, but literally trapped in an episode of domestic violence he'd only seen on ‘Cops'-- one he NEVER could have guessed would be the case with Justin. HIS Justin. "Are you trying to kill me?"

"That depends," Justin answered his voice harder than Brian had ever heard it.

"On what?"

Justin softened his tone. "On whether I can trust you to tell me the truth."

"I've never lied to you, Justin," Brian said quietly.

Justin was silent as he thought back over the years they had been together. No Brian hadn't lied; neither had he, but they didn't exactly ask the RIGHT questions either. He extended his hand downward to help Brian up but Brian had other ideas. He yanked Justin's hand so that the blond would lose his balance. Justin yelped as he fell on top of Brian's bruised body.

Brian ‘oomphed' under the impact of Justin's weight but it didn't last long. Brian reached up forcing Justin's lips closer to his. They kissed hungrily and passionately; endlessly and tirelessly, the idea of losing each other taking over any and all anger they felt in that moment. Justin tore off whatever clothing of Brian's that  wasn't already in tatters, as Brian did the same to him. The moment they were naked, each wasted no time getting to the business of making the most of the opportunity, or the fact that death-- or damn near it-- gave them twin stiffies.

Justin reached into his pocket for the ever present lube and condom, something Brian had taught him to have handy long ago. Rolling the condom down Brian's hardness, he heard his husband moan. Brian had always told him that it felt like Justin was jerking him off whenever he did that. The thought brought a brief smile to his lips as he watched the bejeweled eyes glitter up at him. Justin damn near cried at the look in Brian's eyes-- all of the doubts, fears and repercussions of the last eight years haunting his husband the same way they tormented Justin himself.

He lubed up and lowered himself onto Brian's cock, not wasting any precious time waiting for his tight channel to adjust to Brian's girth. It was a way of punishing himself for allowing his job to get the better of him-- of them. Justin set a grueling pace, his anger driving his motions even as Brian's inner turmoil surfaced. Justin could tell that Brian was just as angry and conflicted with the situation as he was. The years of non-communication and disgruntlement causing both men to mate violently.

Brian rolled Justin over onto his back, slamming him to the ground even as he slammed his dick to the hilt inside of the blond. Justin lifted his legs wrapping them around Brian's neck squeezing and releasing them, willing to take whatever punishment Brian meted out. A few times he'd heard Brian gagging from Justin having used his legs to cut off his air supply but then the rush of oxygen into Brian somehow caused the desired effect for the man beneath him. Brian pounded Justin's ass in a mix of desire and fury and Justin loved every fucking minute of it. Their orgasm had taken them by surprise just as it had the first time they ever fucked.

Capturing Justin's full lips, Brian bit hard causing the younger man to cry out in pain and ecstasy. Justin tightened his legs around Brian's neck again, using erotic asphyxiation as a cresting aid instead of as a viable tool of death as he'd done so many times before with targets. But Brian wasn't a target, he thought, even as the face above him turned red and then blue just as Brian was shooting his load into the condom. Justin released his leg lock on Brian's windpipe just as he gasped for breath, making sure the airway was no longer constricted. Then he allowed himself release between their bodies as Brian continued to usher them both through the gates of euphoria.

When they found themselves spent beyond belief, they both knew that it was time for the reckoning they both craved and dreaded.

"That was fucking hot," Brian said, still gasping for breath.

Justin giggled and Brian couldn't help but chuckle in response. Brian moved to roll off of him, but Justin locked his legs around Brian's hips. "Stay," he murmured.

Brian did as Justin asked, understanding Justin's need for closeness after their fight. Although he didn't move out of the space between Justin's legs, he disengaged so that he could tie off the condom before it got lost inside of Justin. He looked down into Justin's eyes once again, reading the thoughts and emotions there. For a while he had been afraid that he'd forgotten how to; Justin was sometimes so unreadable and unpredictable. Admittedly, Justin was always a puzzle that held Brian's interests, but now he was so much MORE than that.

"Are you hungry?"

Justin shook his head before answering. "No."

"Have you eaten today?"

Justin shrugged. "I haven't had much of an appetite. You?"

"The same. Look Justin, I'm..."

"It's bullshit, Brian. Don't start lying to me now when you never have," Justin said.

"A lie is STILL a lie, Justin, even if it's by omission."

"I know but..."

"What?"

"I...I ..."

"Spit it out, Justin. We have to talk about this."

Justin closed his eyes, once again fighting the offending objects dancing behind his closed eyelids. When he opened them, he knew that he hadn't done a good job. He could still feel the moisture, threatening to spill out. "I have a week, Brian."

"Six days," Brian said, and smiled slightly, although he found nothing remotely humorous in the situation. "It all comes down to this, huh?"

Justin swallowed hard. "I guess it does. But I don't want it to."

"Neither do I, but what other choice do we have? I would rather you die by my hand than someone else's. I'd be merciful, at least."

Justin couldn't stop the chuckle. "I think that's the most romantic thing you've said to me in eight years."

Brian rolled his eyes, but couldn't stop the smile forming. "Talking about your death to you means romance? Whatever happened to a fucking Hallmark card?"

The both of them laughed hard, until Justin sobered. "Brian, what do you think would happen if neither of us gives an inch to what WE want? Neither mother or ... who is your boss anyway?"

Brian was reluctant to tell him, but the fact that Jennifer Taylor was HIS boss was still a shock. "It's Debbie."

"No fucking way. Deb...the DEB is your boss, and she ordered you to KILL me? Why?"

Brian sighed. "You know why, Sunshine. We're the best out there. It's ironic, don't you think? The two best assassins in the business just happen to be fucking married. If not for this forty-five million dollar contract, you wouldn't even have been on Deb's radar."

"And you wouldn't have been on mother's either. So how about we force them to join up?"

"You think they would go for that? You can't be THAT naive."

"I'm not...just hopeful. I don't want to have to make a choice between you and my job; I don't think you want to make that decision either."

"I don't and I won't."

Justin nodded. "So with that being said, mom and Deb will have only three options: either send someone else to kill us, accept OUR resignation or..."

"Join companies," Brian finished for him. "It's a long shot. Did you know that they used to be each other's competition when they were doing the hits, instead of running the companies?"

"Mom always mentioned a woman named Raven, but I NEVER in a million years thought it could have been Deb. Mom's code name was what else but Wasp."

Brian laughed. "It suits her even now. All that country club upbringing is sure to come in handy in the hotel business."

"Yeah. My father found out how badly crossing her could sting the hard way."

"I thought you told me he died of a heart attack," Brian said puzzled.

"Not exactly. My mother shot him in the head while riding him." Brian was at once repulsed, and strangely turned on by that. And he HATED the idea of his mother-in-law having sex...at all. He shivered as Justin laughed. "I know."

"I think my respect for Jennifer just flew up quite a few notches. But now, I'm also scared of that inner bitch she keeps hidden away from the rest of the world. Damn, she's fucking COLD."

"Where do you think I got it from?" Justin asked. It was a sobering thought.

"You wouldn't..." Brian couldn't bear to finish the thought, opting just to swallow hard instead.

"How about we never find out. Besides we have work to do."

Brian nodded, happy to let the subject of ‘killing husbands while fucking' go. The little blond Taylors were a fucking deadly duo; one he wouldn't want to be on the wrong side of. "I think we need to take an inventory of whatever we have in the house. You know they're going to come for us, even after we put this proposal out there."

"Yeah, I know. My people will be trying to kill you and vice versa. Fucking women...why can't they just be reasonable?"

"Hey that's our moms you're talking about," Brian said chuckling. "They won't be so quick to yield the years of holding power over the men in their lives. And for better or worse, they've earned their positions. If it were you or I, we wouldn't be so quick to give up control either."

"So now after trying to kill me, you want to employ fucking Jedi mind tricks? Okay Master Yoda, what do you suggest we do after we see what we have here in the house?"

"Go shopping, of course. We can never have too many guns. How many have you trained to follow up under you?"

Justin thought about it for a moment. "At least fifty new recruits, even while traveling for JT. But there is one, whom my mother favors."

"Same here. I know that eventually Deb is going to send Melanie after me. She's a lot like you-- short, small, agile and fucking brutal."

"Lindsey is more like you, and a weapons expert." Justin sighed heavily. "I think it's time for me to become Master Yoda, and teach you the real secrets of the Jedi, young Luke."

Brian laughed. "No more fucking Star Wars for you. But seriously, I think it's worth a shot of me learning some things. All that Tai-Chi and yoga bullshit you engage in seems to be worth a whole lot more than my ass bargained for."

"You can definitely work on your flexibility, and it will be a real challenge to train you in five days. I suppose you'll have to show me the art of street fighting, too. And we need to find another place to live."

"Why? I thought you liked it here?"

"I do, but that's just it. I don't want our home fucked up while we try to reason with the moms. They know where we live, and here at Britin we're sitting ducks. The people who they send aren't going to give a fuck about this place; they'd be willing to blow it up. I won't have them in my house that way."

Brian thought about what Justin said. He was right that whoever the moms would send would take one look at this place, and itch to burn it to the ground out of sheer malice and jealousy. Their home was elegant and definitely something to be envied, even if the two of them just fucked up the furnishings. But it was theirs! And no one should be allowed to come in and pull shit, without getting the shit kicked out of them.

"I have an idea. Who do you have within the agency that you trust implicitly?"

Justin furrowed his brow thinking. "Emmett and Daphne. Both are trained."

"Daphne is..." Brian closed his eyes, absorbing the surprises that his husband just kept bestowing on him. He shook his head, trying to picture Daphne as a cold-blooded killer. "I thought she was just your assistant."

Justin laughed. "Don't tell me that Cynthia is JUST your assistant. Knowing what I know now, I know THAT would be the biggest untruth yet. Believe it or not, Daphne is MY number two. I'm still deadly, but she's just under me in skill. She works in the office mostly because she chooses to. Mom's been trying to get her to go out for years."

"It's the same with Cyn," Brian confirmed. "But how does Emmett fit into all of this?"

"Em's the cleaner, but he also helped train me. I'm better, but he's damned good."

Brian had trouble imagining the tall queen as anything but immaculately groomed, and mild mannered. The fact that the tall swish stick was able to kill without thought, or remorse, was almost as troubling as Jennifer Taylor doing it. Brian pulled his thoughts together. "Okay so now we have some semblance of a plan. Let's put Em, Daph, Cyn and Ted to work and see what they come up with in the next few days."

"Ted? Accountant, head-in-the-clouds, never could kill a fucking fly Ted? You've got to be shitting me, Brian!"

Brian laughed. "Now you understand my reaction to Emmett. Ted is almost as deadly as Cynthia, but not quite. He's our cleaner."

"Fuck! We do have some weird teams, don't we?"

"Yeah, we do. But for what we're facing, they're perfect for helping us fly under the radar."

With that thought in mind, Brian and Justin got up, showered, and got to the business of protecting each other from ‘Assassination Nation.' Hours later, Brian and Justin worked on building up a healthy appetite-- both in the kitchen, and of course, in the bedroom.