My Heart's Desire

by Predec2

Continuation of "The Wedding Present." Exploration of Brian's evolving relationship with his biological father and grandparents, as well as Fin's run for governor with his own partner by his side. Brian/Justin, Gus, other original characters. *THIS STORY IS NOW COMPLETE!*

26. Looking Into a Mirror

Brian develops a bond with an unlikely person, bringing painful memories to the forefront; Stockwell's involvement is disclosed.

---

The Next Morning - Fin & Tony's House

Lying on his back, Tony slowly opened his eyes, somehow sensing his partner's loss before he heard Fin speaking quietly into his cell phone from several feet away. The balcony's doors were open, allowing him to hear what Fin was saying despite his attempt to keep his voice down. Still being concerned about his partner's well-being after the events of last night and knowing how Fin tended to overdo himself at times like these, he rose from the bed and grabbed his sleep pants before softly padding over to the balcony.

Fin glanced up and flashed a quick but tender smile at him, making his heart skip a beat as he walked up and gave his partner a quick kiss on the lips before sitting down next to him at their small, round table and chairs. He noticed Fin had managed to make himself a cup of coffee somehow because his favorite mug was sitting half-full next to him on the table. He wondered who Fin was speaking to at this early hour - it was barely past seven - until he heard him speak again.

"Shit, Regina! Now don't start crying on me! You had no way of knowing; I'm not blaming you." As when he was normally anxious, Fin brushed some hair back from his forehead before pinching the bridge of his nose with two fingers; Fin had his phone nestled in the crook of his neck at the moment. "Of course I understand; he's your son. You still love him."

Tony reached over to idly rub the back of Fin's neck in a silent show of support as Fin sighed softly. "Regina...Regina. That's not in question. When you're ready, your job will be there." There was another pause before Fin nodded. "Don't thank me. And for God's sake quit with the guilt trip! Now go do what you need to do and I'll get Patsy to fill in for you until you can come back, okay?"

Tony took his hand and traveled it down his partner's tense shoulder muscle to give it a squeeze as Fin concluded his call. "Take care of yourself, Regina. I'll be thinking about you. Bye." He let out a long breath between his lips as he punched the button to end the call and placed his cell phone down on the table. Looking over into the sympathetic face of his partner, he reached over to take his hand.

"I take it that was your assistant," Tony replied quietly as he looked over at their clasped hands lying on the table between them. He still had mixed feelings about Fin's generosity toward the mother of the man who could have killed either his partner or his partner's son. Realistically, he knew it wasn't Regina's fault, and he agreed with Fin that she most likely had no idea what her son had been planning. But it was hard to separate his feelings from the reality at the moment; last night had been way too close for his comfort. He lost himself in the feeling of Fin's warm hand in his, so calming and reassuring, as he slowly lifted his gaze to stare over at his partner.

Fin nodded. "Yeah. She's really upset. Said she got a call from her ex-husband a few hours ago, telling her what had happened. She called me to apologize on his behalf and to get the whole story; she had a feeling that her ex probably wasn't telling her everything, and it turns out she was right. Would you believe the fucker told her that Brian and I had been taunting Adam during the RV campaign and that he was merely acting in self-defense because he felt threatened?"

Tony looked at him aghast, trying to figure out if he had heard right. "He what?"

Fin shook his head in disbelief. "He told her we had been bullying Adam over his staunch religious beliefs and that he couldn't take our depravity and immorality that we were flaunting in his face any longer, so he had to lash out against us in reaction. Said it amounted to the same thing as self-defense, kind of like a fucking battered-wife syndrome or some temporary insanity episode. He also said he would have done the same thing. How's THAT for a plausible defense, Counselor?"

"That's bullshit," Tony bristled, his blue eyes flashing with fury as his grip tightened almost painfully in Fin's grasp. "That is the most preposterous, fucked up statement I've ever heard - and believe me, I've heard a LOT of them over the years." He huffed out a breath of incredulity, still unable to process what he was telling him. "You have got to be shitting me!"

Fin smiled at his partner gently as he slowly caressed Tony's hand in an attempt to soothe him; he knew that would be his reaction. "Now don't go getting your briefs in a bunch," he chided him, loving Tony's bulldog protectiveness but knowing he needed to make sure the blame was placed squarely where it should lie. "For what it's worth, even Regina agreed with you. No normal person would think that."

"Well, we're not dealing with a sane person, Fin, or Stewart wouldn't have tried to kill you last night," Tony hissed. He pulled his hand away from Fin and stood up, turning around to place his hands on the metal railing of the balcony. He inhaled a deep breath and let it out, taking solace from the coldness of the metal as he gazed out onto the back of their property - the place that was their one sanctuary where they could be themselves and enjoy total privacy. It was the one thing that helped them to maintain control of their lives - control that had rapidly spiraled out of their grasp once his partner had decided to run for Governor and the psychopaths and bigots had seemingly come out of the proverbial woodwork. He closed his eyes in concern. His unwavering love and support for Fin had never faltered - it was there just as deeply as it had ever been - but once more he wondered what the price might be for his partner to be successful in his dream to be Governor.

He felt rather than heard Fin's presence as his lover wound his good arm around his waist from behind and pulled him closer to his body, careful not to press them TOO tightly together with his arm still in a sling. Fin placed his chin on Tony's shoulder as he whispered, "Talk to me."

Tony turned around in Fin's embrace to place his hands on his shoulders. "You already know," he told him softly. He was careful not to press into his body too closely despite his wish to; but the sight of the immobilized limb only made him concentrate on what he had been trying to forget.

Fin nodded. He paused for a moment and stared into his partner's worried eyes before he asked, "You want me to bow out? I would do that, you know, but for only one reason. I would do it for you."

Tony bit his lip. He was actually tempted to selfishly nod yes in response to Fin's question, but he knew that he couldn't. He knew how much running for governor meant to him. And he knew how much of a difference - a REAL difference - Fin would make if he were to win. And despite everything that had happened - including the fact that Fin now had a real, legitimate contender to deal with instead of the buffoon Turner - he still firmly believed that his partner would ultimately come out victorious. No, he loved Fin deeply - deeply enough to know what was in his heart and how much it meant to him. If he told Fin he wanted him to quit, he would be doing him an injustice and the man he loved for his fierceness, passion, and determination would be diminished as well.

He shook his head, then, instead. "No," he told him firmly. "I love you for offering to do that, but I don't want you to. I want you to show all those bigoted bastards that Fintan O'Connor does not back down from a fight. I want the best man in the governor's mansion. And that's you."

Fin swallowed the emotional lump in his throat. "God, I love you so much, Tony Cassinelli," he whispered as the two came together for a kiss, Tony's arms winding around Fin's neck to pull him a little closer. A mild breeze, already warmed by the quickly-rising sun, caressed their skin as they continued to kiss, their worries temporarily forgotten as they stood there alone in their own, private oasis.

As they broke apart several seconds later, they heard someone clearing their throat and turned to see Brian standing there just inside the bedroom's door. He had heard voices earlier and had quietly opened the door to observe his father and Tony conversing on the balcony.

Fin smiled over at his son a little sheepishly. "Hey, Brian." He noticed despite the early hour his son was already showered and dressed neatly but casually in a pair of black jeans, a pull-over, lightweight coal-gray sweater, and a pair of black leather shoes. "You're up early."

Brian walked into the room and sat down on the end of the bed to face his father and Tony. "Woke up a little while ago and couldn't go back to sleep." He smirked. "My better half - as I'm sure he would call himself - was still sleeping like the dead when I got up." That wasn't really that unusual for Justin, though; he normally was a heavy sleeper, at least when the two of them were in bed together. It was due partly to him wearing his husband out with some vigorous lovemaking before he fell asleep a few hours ago and also merely due to genetics. He had noticed, however, that last night Justin was a lot more restless than normal, tossing in his sleep from time to time. Only when he had spooned up against his back and wrapped his arms protectively around his husband's waist had Justin finally settled down for good. After what had happened last night, though, he really couldn't say that he blamed him.

Fin nodded as he walked into the bedroom and sat down in a desk chair near Brian.

Brian studied his father carefully, noting the slight grimace that appeared on Fin's face as he gingerly sat down. He tamped down the feelings of guilt that threatened to rise back to the surface as he asked softly, "How's the shoulder today? It is bothering you a lot?"

Fin shook his head. "No, not really; mainly stiff and just a little sore." He didn't want to tell his son that it actually hurt like a motherfucker at the moment; he had even been hiding that fact from Tony. The doctors had warned him yesterday that he might feel worse before he felt better; he didn't want his lover nor his son to know that, though; especially Brian, who already felt bad enough about it. "It'll be fine in no time."

Brian wasn't convinced his father was telling him the whole truth, but he knew him well enough by now not to press him. Nodding, he told him, "I just got off the phone with Kirk. You know we're going to have to talk to the press about what happened last night. He said they've been driving him crazy with inquiries."

Fin nodded as Tony came in and sat down on the bed near Brian. "I just had an interesting conversation with Regina about her son."

Brian's eyes widened slightly at that statement. "And...?"

"As I figured, she's devastated and blaming herself for what happened. Oh, and get this - her ex is trying to blame US for flaunting our 'depraved' lifestyle in front of him. He says that's what drove their son to do what he did."

"What the fuck?" Brian fumed, his mouth agape. "That...That is the most asinine thing I have ever heard!"

Fin nodded in agreement. "I know, and she also feels that way. Brian, she feels awful about what happened, but I assured her it was NOT her fault. She has been loyal to me for years now - I know she would never have condoned what her son did, and she could care less WHAT my sexual orientation is. She is nothing like her ex OR her son." He sighed. "I just wish I had figured him out before all this happened. Even Regina didn't know how deep his hatred ran for us. She had NO idea he felt that way." He paused for a moment before he added, "She asked me if she could take a leave of absence until her son's troubles are resolved. She may even try to get counseling for him, although since he's an adult she can't force him to do it. I told her that her job would still be here when she's ready to come back to work."

"Fin, do you think that's wise? Are you sure about her loyalty?" Brian pressed, concerned about his father's safety.

Fin glanced over at Tony who raised an eyebrow at him. He had mentioned the same thing to him earlier. He looked back at his son and nodded firmly. "Yeah, I'm 100% sure," he assured him. "I know that woman - she's more like a big sister to me. I don't hold her responsible for what happened, and she couldn't feel any worse about it than I suspect you do," he gently chided his son. "Although neither one of you share any blame for what Stewart did."

Brian let out a tense breath, still unable to feel that he wasn't at least partly responsible himself. But truthfully Fin was right - no one was to blame except for the perpetrator himself - and maybe his homophobic cheerleader of a father. "Well, that's your decision," he told his father. "But we still need to address what happened. I think it's best at this point that we hold a press conference down at your headquarters to talk about it. But I also feel we shouldn't make that the focal point of your campaign; as disgusting as the whole issue is, if you're going to win this thing, especially with Whittle in the picture now, we need to convey that you have a solid grip on what the state's priorities are and that you are the best person to take care of all the issues facing your constituents. When it's all said and done, the economy and jobs creation are going to be more important than who you fuck."

Fin nodded vigorously. "I couldn't agree more. I need to focus on what we can do in this state to return it to prosperity and find new ways to generate revenue. I think I have made my opinion abundantly clear on how I view narrow-minded bigots, and Stewart's actions last night make my point abundantly clear without me having to really say another word. I think he has made a huge tactical error. No sane, intelligent voter could possibly think what he did was excusable."

"I think you give that fucker too much credit," Tony interjected softly, his eyes darkening in anger. "Yes, most open-minded people would view what he did as unacceptable; but we've seen enough people during the road trip to know that there's a lot of other wackos who share his views and even welcome them, Fin. They'll probably see him as a fucking HERO for what he tried to do."

"Tony..."

His lover sighed as he held up his hand. "That's all I'm going to say...future Governor," he replied quietly, his love - and faith - for his partner clearly evident. He stood up. "I'm going to go check my email and let them know I'll be coming into the office today. I'll leave you two to figure out how you're going to respond." He walked over to Fin to lean down and bestow a tender kiss on his lips, being careful to avoid his injured shoulder. "I'll call you later," he told his partner as Fin nodded. "I'm going to go take a shower and get dressed."

Fin watched his partner grab his robe off the back of their walk-in closet and walk toward the adjacent master bathroom; he waited until Tony had closed the door behind him before he told Brian, "He's in full agreement that I continue on with my campaign, but that doesn't mean he's still not worried as hell about my safety."

Brian's lips turned up into a wry smile. "Yeah...I know the feeling." He sobered a little as he told his father, "I wouldn't say this to Justin, but there is some justification for their being concerned. You could stand to beef up your security some, Fin." It took a lot for Brian to admit that to his father - normally nothing fazed him or made him feel concerned. At least not before; now that he had both his husband and father to worry about, though, that seemed to make his world spin just a little differently. "You don't have to put yourself into some untouchable bubble like some distorted Pope Mobile, but on the other hand it wouldn't be a bad idea to be a little more prudent about your safety."

Fin sighed, knowing his son was right. He fucking hated the idea of isolating himself from the voters. But he also knew how worried both Tony and Justin were for both him and Brian's safety. He supposed he owed them some peace of mind for their unwavering support despite their concerns. He nodded. "Yeah...Okay. We can talk to Don about that when we get to headquarters. You ARE coming with me, aren't you?"

"Of course," Brian responded, wondering why Fin would even ask that. "I'm your campaign manager," he explained. "Where else would I be?"

Fin shrugged. "I just thought that maybe you and Justin might want to head back to Pittsburgh for a while. I know you've been away for some time now."

Brian shook his head. "No, not yet anyway. Justin's going back this morning - he has a couple of paintings he's put off working on for this road trip and they can't wait any longer. But he knows why I need to stay here, at least until this latest controversy blows over. Maybe then I can head back to the Pitts for a few days until your next debate is televised next week." Brian had accepted the fact that when he became his father's campaign manager he would be giving up day-to-day control of Kinnetik, but he still felt a tug to check in on his 'baby' occasionally. And truthfully, the road trip had turned into much more of a debacle than even he could have imagined; the idea of going back home to Britin and just spending a little down time with Justin and their friends and family held an inordinate appeal to him at the moment.

Fin nodded as he stood up. "Well, I'm going to go get dressed myself and we can drive into town together. Does Justin need a ride to the airport? I assume he's going back on your private jet."

Brian nodded. "Yeah." He grinned. "If you'll excuse me, I have to go wake Sleeping Beauty up. Meet you downstairs in about an hour?"

Fin nodded. "Yeah. Sounds good. I want to check with Don before we go and see if he's heard anything else about Stewart. I haven't heard a peep since he was taken into custody last night, and from what I saw on the web the police are being real tight-lipped about it." He couldn't help chuckling as he added, "I'm sure the press is going crazy right now because of that."

Brian returned his smile. "No doubt," he said dryly. He rose from the bed, saying, "I'll go check on Justin while you're getting dressed. Meet you downstairs in an hour." Fin nodded as Brian headed off toward the end of the hallway where he and Justin had slept last night.

As he approached the open doorway, Brian couldn't help smiling at the sight of his husband still fast asleep, partially burrowed under the covers. Justin was lying on his side, facing him, the pillow he had used last night firmly clutched in his arms as he clasped it to his bare chest. The lightweight duvet, which Justin had managed to commandeer last night to himself as he left Brian shivering slightly with only a sheet, was tangled up in his legs. His face was somewhat obscured by a thicket of hair that had fallen into his eyes. His hair was splayed out at all angles as it lay against the dark navy of the pillowcase, and his skin was starkly highlighted against the wrinkled, matching sheet lying nearby. As Brian quietly walked up to the bed and observed him sleeping peacefully, he thought Justin had never looked more beautiful than he did right then; his heart did its customary somersault just like it always did whenever he looked at him.

He hated to wake him, but he knew he and Fin needed to get downtown soon and Justin had made him promise to wake him up early so he could get back to his studio in the morning. He gingerly sat down next to his husband, drinking in the captivating sight for a moment longer before he leaned down to brush Justin's mouth with the lightest of pressure. A small whimper of pleasure escaped from the soft, warm lips before Brian watched golden eyelashes flutter and slowly open; a tender smile bloomed across his husband's face as Justin stretched his arms above his head. "What time is it?" he whispered as Brian reached down and gently brushed the rebellious hair away from Justin's eyes.

"About 7:30," Brian responded with a smile of his own as he leaned down closer to kiss Justin again, more deeply this time. Their mouths moved against each other's as they continued to kiss, each lost in the moment as every other problem temporarily fell away. It was only after Justin reached down to squeeze Brian through his pants that his husband was forced to pull away. "Uh, uh, uh," he scolded him as he took Justin's hand and moved it away. He brought the paler hand up to his lips to kiss it as he said, "That's your punishment for not getting up when I did."

Brian had to hold back a laugh at the half-pout on Justin's face as his lover replied, "Well, I'm UP now." His voice lowered to a seductive whisper and he batted his eyes slowly as he suggested, "Take a shower with me."

Brian laughed, feeling his cock twitch at the thought. "Nice try, Sunshine, and I'm tempted, trust me, but I just took one." He gave his husband's hand a squeeze before he pulled on it to urge Justin to a sitting position, the duvet dropping away; he noticed with a lack of surprise that someone had the beginnings of an impressive woody showing, but he tried not to concentrate on that fact; his own dick, though, continued to have other ideas. Forcing himself not to act upon it, though, he urged, "Come on, Sleepyhead. Go get showered and dressed and Fin and I will drive you into town before we head down to headquarters. We're going to have to address what happened last night - as least as much as we know, which isn't a whole hell of a lot at the moment."

The mention of that horrendous episode awakened Justin more than any other stimulant could as he scooted up straighter in the bed against the headboard. "How is Fin this morning?"

"Sore and stiff. But other than that he seems to be doing okay." Justin nodded as he added, "He's already spoken with Regina and she's as shocked as we were. Oh, and listen to this: she said her ex claims Stewart was justified in what he did because we goaded him into it with our 'depraved' lifestyles."

Justin mouth dropped open in astonishment as he bristled, his eyes flashing in fury. "What? Are you fucking shitting me? Justified? From what fucking planet is he from?"

Brian shook his head. "I know - it doesn't even merit a reply; it shows us where the asshole got his logic from, though." He gazed into Justin's eyes - the eyes that had seen so much pain, homophobia, and bigotry to last a lifetime before he had even reached adulthood and his expression softened. He reached over to gently curl his hand around Justin's bare shoulder, caressing it lightly with his thumb in a reassuring motion. "Try not to think about it, Justin," he replied softly. "He's not worth it." He glanced down and had to smirk at a particular part of Justin's anatomy practically winking back at him; as his eyes lifted to meet his husband's he saw the telltale blush on the pale cheeks. It amused him that even after all this time he could still do that to him and it made him feel inexplicably proud of that fact as well as extremely flattered.

He grinned, knowing he couldn't ignore what was so obviously begging for attention. Reaching down to curl his hand around Justin's cock, he heard his husband sigh of pleasure. "I suppose I could help you out with this before you go take your shower," he huskily told him as he began to glide his hand up and down the shaft. "Never let it be said that Brian Kinney isn't an accommodating man."

Justin's smile widened as he nodded. "Wouldn't think of it."

---

One Hour Later - Harrisburg International Airport

"Take good care of him, Brad," Brian told his private pilot as he and Justin stood next to his private jet; Fin stood several feet away to allow his son and son-in-law some privacy.

His pilot nodded from his place nearby. "You got it, Mr. Kinney," he told his boss as, with a polite nod to him and Justin, he entered the body of the jet, leaving the two men relatively alone.

Brian felt himself choke up unexpectedly as he gazed down into Justin's luminous eyes; he knew it was silly. It wasn't as if were running off to some other country or even another state. It wasn't as if he wouldn't be back home very shortly, maybe even later today. But it probably had more to do with the past several days' events; all of the hatred, bigotry and deception, culminating in last night's violence, had made him realize how things could change in a heartbeat. Of course, in a way he already knew that; a bat and a bomb had made him all too aware of that before.

He swallowed hard and held Justin by his upper arms before he whispered, "I'll see you soon; probably later this evening." He wasn't sure if he was reassuring himself or Justin more as his husband nodded back at him.

Justin peered up into Brian's face as he raised his hand to lay it against his cheek. Stewart's attack last night weighed heavily on his mind as he again realized how close they had come last night to a tragedy - how close their world could have been blown apart; how close he had come to losing the man that meant more to him than life itself. His eyes began to fill with the hint of tears as he whispered back, "Don't be too long." He inhaled a calming breath to force himself not to break down like some childish faggot; he had long ago passed that age, but it was times like these that made him feel insecure, even afraid again.

Brian smiled at his sentimental, tenderhearted but courageous husband, wondering how he had ever lived without him. He supposed that was just it, though; before Justin his heart had never 'lived' before, it had merely existed. "I won't be," he promised as he pulled Justin tighter into his arms and their lips softly met for a passion-filled, emotional kiss.

Fin had to look away at the deep love so evident in the way that his son and Justin were kissing; it felt extremely private to watch and made him feel like a voyeur to something way too intensely personal to observe. Even though it had taken him and his son quite a while to begin feeling comfortable with each other, one thing had never been in doubt from the first moment he and Brian had met; this man was deeply in love with his husband with a bond that even HE envied. Oh, he loved Tony just as much - of that he was certain - but there was something almost otherworldly and unbelievably strong between the two of them that was plainly obvious to everyone who saw them together. They were like two halves of a whole, the yin to the other's yang, two pieces of a perfectly shaped puzzle.

Not for the first time, he wondered if he and Tony could one day be as happily married as his son and Justin were. It certainly hadn't seemed to diminish their love for each other; if anything it had only intensified it. He didn't have further time to contemplate it longer before he heard Brian bidding Justin goodbye and he turned to give Justin a smile and wave of his own. He watched as their two hands, which were intertwined together, slowly and reluctantly pulled apart before Justin turned and walked up the steps and into the jet to take a seat by the window. Brian pulled back just enough to be safely away from the departing jet as, with Justin gazing at him from one of the jet's windows and one more wave of their hands, the jet slowly began to taxi away. Fin watched as with a soft sigh Brian turned and walked toward him. He gave his son a sympathetic smile, knowing how he felt every time he or Tony had to leave on some business matter, before without giving it much thought he reached over with his good arm and gave his son's shoulder an affectionate squeeze, noting that it felt right now somehow. "Ready to go?" he asked softly.

Brian turned to take one last glance at the jet now taking off on the runway before he turned back and nodded. "Yeah," he answered. "Let's get back to work."

---

Thirty Minutes Later - Outside Fin's Campaign Headquarters Building

As they approached Fin's headquarters, Brian stared in astonishment at the mass of press planted outside the campaign building; it was wall-to-wall reporters mingling on the sidewalk and spilling out into the street. Several satellite boom trucks were parked on both sides of the roadway and there was almost a surreal circus atmosphere to the scene.

"Holy shit," Brian muttered as he swept his gaze over the whole picture. It looked like the floor of the New York Stock Exchange - everywhere he looked there was a person, jockeying for the closest position to the front entrance.

"Yeah," Fin concurred as he, too, looked out onto the sea of bodies. "Amazing what a little stabbing will do for your popularity," he commented dryly as he and his son exchanged a knowing glance. Making a hasty decision before it would be too late, he quickly turned down a nearby side street. "We'd better try to go in the back way and hope the press hasn't figured it out. I want to meet with the rest of my staff before I speak to the media."

"I agree," Brian told him bluntly. "I don't like the setup out there - too uncontrolled." He had taken Justin's concern to heart. After seeing the near-miss last night with his father, from now on he wanted a firmer handle on when and where his father spoke. He had no intention of hiding from anyone, but there wasn't any reason why they couldn't be more cautious, either.

Fortunately, as they drove down the narrow back alleyway, the unobtrusive, plain double metal door hiding the back entrance to the building's underground parking lot was deserted. Breathing a sigh of relief, Fin steered his SUV over to the entrance and, using a remote attached to the visor, waited just long enough for his vehicle to have sufficient clearance before he advanced inside, making sure to quickly close the door behind them.

Brian lifted his eyebrows in amusement. "You must have been a spy in a previous life," he observed dryly.

Fin grinned at him. "No, I have a partner who was probably one, though."

Brian chuckled softly as the two of them located an empty spot in the fairly narrow, concrete enclosure and disembarked.

---

"Thank God," Kirk exclaimed as he saw Fin and Brian emerging from the door leading from the stairs downstairs. Fin had called him earlier to advise they were on the way in, but that had been before all the press jackals had descended upon the front entrance. "I was hoping you would come in the back way," he told them, one hand clutching the phone. He had his other hand over the mouthpiece part of the landline instrument as he said, "The phones haven't stopped ringing off the hook since we got here."

Fin nodded an acknowledgment as he and Brian walked over to speak with some other members of his staff. After several seconds of speaking with his caller - yet another member of the press requesting an interview with the candidate - he quickly replaced the receiver and joined Fin and Brian.

"Quite a crowd outside," Fin commented. At the time they had rented the older brick building for his headquarters, he had thought it was a poor decision to install blinds on all the front windows, thinking it made him look like he was trying to be secretive, but now he was inordinately relieved that they had. The blinds were just translucent enough to make out forms of people outside - as well as inside - without giving away their identities, and he could tell the crowd outside was bursting at the seams.

Don Meyers walked up to the group, just in time to overhear his friend's comment. "That might have something to do with what I just heard about Stewart."

The small group all turned as one to peer over at him. "What did you hear?" Brian asked, having to talk a little louder than normal over the din of the workers in the cramped space.

Meyers looked over at them grimly, noticing the sling across Fin's chest where his arm was currently held immobile. He glanced around the room, realizing everyone's eyes were glued on them. "Let's take this into your private office," he told Fin with a nod toward the adjoining room.

Fin nodded back, frowning in curiosity. "Okay," he told his college chum as the group walked over to his office door. A few minutes later, the small band of his inner circle was congregated into the closed space as Fin turned to his friend. "Now...what's going on, Don?" he asked in the relative quiet. With the door closed, at least the volume level was minimized.

His security chief leaned against the far wall, his lips pursed as he replied, "This doesn't go outside this office," he told them curtly before he asked Fin, "Do you remember Art Kelly?"

Fin furrowed his brow in thought before a light bulb went off in his head. "Yeah...the guy who went into the Army right after college? Red hair, glasses, tall?"

Don nodded. "Yeah, that's the one - took his law enforcement degree and went into the Army with it. Well, when he was discharged about ten years ago he went to work for the Harrisburg Police Department. And he's stationed at the same precinct as the one where they took Stewart." He paused for effect, all eyes on him now. He lowered his voice even though no one in the next room could hear as he told them, "You didn't hear this from him. But he called me on the sly this morning to tell me that Stewart has been revealing some extremely interesting information while he's been their 'guest,' shall we say."

Fin and Brian exchanged a look as Fin asked, "What sort of information? Was someone else in on what he did last night?"

Don shook his head. "No...not as far as he could tell. Stewart was practically salivating over what he did last night," he told them with disgust. "Bastard seemed fucking proud of it, in fact. No, I'm talking about the bribery scheme involving those two assholes who tried to discredit you and Brian. They weren't the only ones involved. Seems a former police chief was also helping out; at least he was in on the scheming according to Stewart. More importantly, he helped to supply some of the bribery money for them so they could be 'convinced' to share their story with the press."

Fin's eyes widened. "Former police chief?" He wracked his brain, trying to come up with who it might be. "From here? Who?" As a state senator, he had frequently come into contact with most heads of the local police department, and fortunately as far as he could tell they seemed fairly ethical. He searched his memory to try and come up with a name but found that he couldn't.

As Fin's old college friend turned to look meaningfully over at Brian, though, Brian's heart stopped in his throat. The man didn't have to say the name; somehow he knew. "You're shitting me," he murmured in quiet disbelief. "No fucking way. He's still in jail."

Don shook his head. "No, he's not. Although he might be in there again soon," he said. "He's been out for a while now." He snorted distastefully. "Got paroled early for good behavior."

"You have GOT to be fucking joking!" Brian growled in astonishment as his voice got louder and angrier. "That homophobic prick should've had his balls ripped off for what he got away with!"

Fin shook his head in confusion over his son's vehement outburst. "Who the hell are we talking about?" he demanded, not liking being kept in the dark.

Brian gritted his teeth as he spat out, "The illustrious Jim Stockwell, former police chief of Pittsburgh and poster boy for homophobes everywhere. Tried to run for mayor of the Pitts before everyone found out he helped cover up his former partner's murder of a teen hustler and was sent to jail for it - for five years!" He held his hands up in astonishment. "What the fuck?"

Meyers lifted one eyebrow sympathetically. "Well, who knows what sort of connections the man had on the judge who granted him early parole? And there's also the wonderful condition known as jail overcrowding." He pursed his lips tightly together as he added, "Something tells me that maybe they'll find room for him now, though - at least we can hope anyway."

Fin's mouth gaped open wide as he listened to what Stewart had told their old college acquaintance; now that his memory was jogged, he realized that he had certainly heard of Stockwell before. You didn't become a state senator and not be informed of such matters, and the tale of a police chief gone bad always made for salacious gossip as well as controversy. He made it his business to be as well informed as he could regarding Pennsylvania current events at all times, and the job to provide continual feeds to him fell to his office staff. His worst pet peeve was being asked a question regarding something that occurred in his own state and not being able to offer an informed opinion about it, and he despised fellow politicians who tried to bullshit their way through a question only to make themselves sound like total, ignorant asses. But to find that Stockwell had provided money to the two men who had tried to discredit both him and his son? Even in his long career as a politician, this sordid revelation was reaching a new low.

"Unbelievable," he murmured as he leaned back against his desk and scooted up to sit on the edge of it. "Just when I think I've heard it all..." He shook his head in amazement. "Did Art think that was the extent of Stockwell's involvement?"

Brian brushed his hand through his hair in agitation as Don nodded his head. He wondered what other asshole from his past were going to emerge before this was all over.

"That's what Stewart is claiming," Don told them. "But you have to remember - he was probably being used more as a convenient pawn to manipulate rather than a key player in this whole situation; who knows what else - or who else - was involved? This could be just the tip of the iceberg here."

"Shit," Brian muttered in disgust. "Unfucking believable."

From his position at one end of the couch, Fin's speechwriter spoke up. "Fin," Kirk interjected. "We need to take advantage of this somehow. It can't hurt if we divulge what sort of scum Turner had associated himself with. It may not directly reflect on Whittle's camp, but it's sure as hell not going to look too good for the Republican party in general."

Fin sighed, torn between wanting to use whatever they could to their advantage but not wanting to appear as down and dirty as the other camp had been. In addition, he had a great deal of respect for his old friend who was now his candidate. "Brian?" he asked softly as he gazed over at his son standing with his back to the wall nearby. He could tell by the way Brian was standing so stiffly that he was still highly agitated by what he had just learned about Stockwell. "What do you think about using this information?"

Brian lifted his gaze to meet his father's, contemplating every parameter of that question. He let out a deep breath to try and calm himself, still not quite believing this new twist. "Well, first of all we're not supposed to even know about this yet," he pointed out as Don nodded over at him. "So if you make any type of comment regarding it before it becomes public knowledge, that could be a problem for your friend, and I don't like to break confidences, even though I'd like to see that shit-faced Stockwell squirm before his ass is thrown back into jail. I imagine he was at least let out early with the stipulation that he stay out of trouble, so I would say he's just put the nail back into his coffin now." He set his jaw as he added, "I'll definitely be looking forward to that."

He sobered as he continued, "And secondly, if we make a point of flinging mud back at our opponent we're not going to look any better than Turner did. It's one thing to refute out-and-out lies and blackmail; it's quite another to try and besmirch Whittle based on something he had no control over." Besides, he thought to himself silently, the man had come to his own father's aid last night; they owed him for that at least. "I don't want Fin to win this campaign based on which candidate can dig up the most dirt on each other; I want him to win because he's the best qualified candidate for governor - and he is. We don't NEED to resort to name calling or innuendo for him to come out on top."

Fin couldn't help the swell of emotion that rose inside at his son's confident declaration of faith in him. And Brian was right; Whittle was a decent man unlike Turner and he wanted to win because the people saw him as the best choice, not because his camp was the best at painting his old friend with an unfavorable brush. He didn't think there would be much to malign him for, anyway, unless the man had some sordid background that he wasn't aware of. Somehow he found that highly unlikely, however.

"I agree with you," Fin told his son. "I want to win this campaign on my own qualifications and merits. If I can't do that then I don't DESERVE to win."

"But..."

"No, Kirk," Fin sternly replied as his young speechwriter's face fell in disappointment; he knew his ambitious staff member was anxious to use whatever weapons they had at their disposal to triumph over their opponent. "That's my decision."

Littleton sighed. "Okay, all right," he grumbled, realizing Fin was right but still frustrated. He rubbed his hands across his denim-clad thighs as he rose from the other end of the couch. "So what do you want to say about last night, then? We'll certainly have to address it. The press has been pushing for a statement from you - and they need to know that you're okay. At least let me play on their sympathy, then."

The puppy-dog look Fin was receiving from his rather brash, younger staff member made him laugh softly. "Always trying for some sort of angle, are you?" he teased Kirk. "You want me to wrap a bandage around my head, too, to make it look more serious than it is?"

"Fin, it WAS serious," Brian reminded him softly. Despite their previous conversation, and even the assurance that Fin would be fine, he still couldn't get that heart-stopping moment out of his head. If the knife had only gone a few inches either way...His father sighing heavily brought him out of his reverie as he looked over at him.

"Brian, let's not go down that road again," Fin chided him as he turned to look at Kirk. "No offense, Kirk, but I don't need a speechwriter for a brief statement regarding what happened last night. I just need to provide a straightforward accounting of the facts, that's all."

"But they're going to want to know why he did it," Kirk persisted as he stood several feet away. "People don't just walk up and stab someone for no good reason. The man needs to be exposed for the homophobic prick that he is." Kirk was straight as the day was long, but he WAS passionate about one thing: when it came to injustices regarding sexual orientation - or any other irrelevant part of another person's lifestyle that didn't hurt or affect anyone else - he was extremely passionate about putting a stop to it. "Everyone needs to know that he did it as a result of his irrational, stupid bigotry. Maybe if the voters see what lengths some of these assholes will go to in an effort to prevent you from winning they will realize that they want no part of it and will vote for the candidate with the most expertise to run the state - which is you."

One corner of Fin's lips turned upward as he replied wryly, "I think his motive behind the attack will be blatantly obvious, Kirk, don't you? Most 'normal' people don't run around trying to stab political candidates for no reason."

"Maybe," Littleton conceded. "You're sure you don't want me to prepare some notes for you at least?"

"I think Fin's right," Brian told him from his place near his father. "He doesn't need notes to counterattack what that idiot did. I'm sure he can handle it extemporaneously just fine without any problems."

Fin nodded. "I agree totally - now let's go meet my 'adoring public' and get it over with." Brian walked the few steps over to his father as Fin placed his left hand on his son's shoulder. With a nod to his son, the four of them left Fin's inner sanctum to face the press.

---

Same time - Liberty Diner

Jennifer smiled as she entered the diner and recognized her son sitting at a nearby booth. Justin returned his smile with one of his own as she walked up to him.

"Hey, Mom," he greeted her as he reached up to grasp her by the shoulders and bestow a quick kiss on her cheek.

"Honey," she responded as she sat down across from him in the booth and eyed him intently. They were meeting Sean and Kathy later today to get reacquainted over lunch and to assure them that both Brian and Fin were doing okay, but before they did she wanted to make sure her only son was all right as well. Justin had already filled her in on what had happened to Fin and had reassured her that everything was fine. But she also knew that Justin was adept at hiding his worries from her and she could tell by the slight furrow of his brow that he was still concerned about both Fin and Brian's safety.

"Everything okay, Justin?" she asked him softly as she turned her white china mug over for coffee. She glanced around, not noticing Debbie anywhere in sight. In a way she was relieved, she thought guiltily, because as well-intentioned as her friend was she could be like a bulldog when it came to finding out information and she wanted a few, precious moments alone with her son first. "You look tired," she observed. "Fin's still all right?"

Justin nodded as she reached over to squeeze his hand briefly before letting it go. "Yes, I saw him this morning before I left to come home and he was doing okay. Just a little sore and stiff, but that's to be expected considering what happened." He shuddered slightly, hoping his mother wouldn't notice, as he recalled last night's events. In a way it seemed like ages ago, but in another it was like it had just happened. Either way he knew it was a moment he would never forget. "He and Brian dropped me off at the airport before heading into Harrisburg to campaign headquarters. Tony had to go back to his office for the day."

She nodded as she continued to quietly observe her son. "And you?"

He shrugged as he picked up his coffee mug and took a sip. "I'm fine," he answered, trying to sound nonchalant but suspecting he was doing a poor job of it. His mother always did see right through his subterfuge. "Just a little tired like you said; I didn't exactly sleep well last night," he admitted, knowing it would be fruitless to state otherwise.

Jennifer nodded as a waitress she didn't recognize came over to fill her coffee mug and take their orders. As soon as the older woman had left, however, she stated, "You're still worried about both of them."

Justin sighed. "Of course I am; so is Tony. Do you blame us?"

"No, of course not," she reassured him with a tender smile. "I would feel the same way in your shoes. There're some crazy people in this world, Honey. But I don't have to tell YOU that, though; you have first-hand knowledge of it." The bashing, Craig's vitriolic tirades regarding Brian and their son's 'immoral lifestyle,' as well as all the other homophobes both she and her son ran into on a regular basis were more than clear evidence of that. "I can totally understand why you're concerned about their safety. But I know Brian's not the type to back down from a fight, either, and from what I've observed about your father-in-law I have a strong feeling that father and son are cut from the same cloth."

Justin nodded as he stared down at the table. That was certainly true enough. "Yeah," he murmured softly. "At least his father has balls."

Jennifer pursed her lips tightly together, regret washing over her that her own husband - and her son's father - couldn't have been supportive of him the way that Fin was toward Brian. She reached over instinctively to clasp her son's hand just before she heard someone yelling to turn the television up; a few months ago the owner had decided it would help his business to install one unobtrusively in the corner of the room near the front entrance. Jennifer felt her son's hand tighten in her grip as the rather small breakfast crowd grew quiet; noticing her son's intense expression on his face, she half-twisted in her seat to observe a 'breaking news' banner scrawled at the bottom of the screen and an instantly familiar man facing a phalanx of media personnel from behind a sea of microphones.

The waitress who had taken their orders a little earlier grabbed the remote sitting on the counter next to the cash register and unmuted the television in time for everyone to hear Fin begin to speak; Brian was standing a few feet away to his father's right. It was hard to tell what both men were standing on just outside the doors of Fin's campaign headquarters, but apparently they had snared something in order to be seen above the burgeoning crowd of press reporters camped out on the sidewalk a few feet away.

Justin thought he recognized Don Meyers standing a few feet back from Fin, but the presence of his father-in-law's friend in charge of security did not fill him with confidence; it would be much too easy for some other lunatic to come walking up to Fin or Brian and finish what Stewart had begun last night. Why was more not being done to ensure that that didn't happen? Silently he broadcast a fervent message to both men to be careful and stay out of harm's way as Fin, wearing a smart-looking, custom-made, dark gray suit and open-necked, light gray shirt, began to speak to the crowd.

Obviously speaking off the cuff, Fin gazed evenly into the mass of bodies and began to describe the events of last night; he didn't embellish what he told the press who were clamoring for every possible salacious detail of what had happened; Fin, in fact, had to pause several times during his retelling of the experience as various members of the press rudely shouted out questions while he was trying to speak. To his credit, he remained unflappable, however, waiting for the din to die down before resuming his statement.

Justin knew his husband well enough to know that Brian was becoming increasingly perturbed; no doubt he was irritated by the media's brazen disregard of Fin's initial advisement that he would NOT be answering questions afterward. There was something else there, though, he couldn't help thinking. He could tell. Brian was agitated and restless, emotions that he normally strove hard not to convey during stressful times such as this; he thought they made him appear to be weak somehow. No, there was something else going on that he wasn't privy to. But he fully intended to find out just what it was as soon as he was able to.

He watched as Fin spoke succinctly about the events of last night, mentioning Adam Stewart as the perpetrator but declining to discuss the reasons why one of the members of his inner circle would see fit to attack him physically. He noticed that Brian was eyeing his father intently, undoubtedly wishing to tell the press exactly who Stewart was really after but choosing to remain silent. He knew Brian still felt awkward about his father getting hurt while saving him from serious injury, but Fin had been adamant earlier that he had nothing to feel guilty about.

"My God," Jennifer murmured across from him as Fin finished up his statement and he and Brian turned on their heels to go back inside. The press continued to shout out questions after they had left but quickly died back down and began to disperse when it became apparent that the candidate was sticking to his vow not to answer questions anytime soon. "Justin..." She gazed over at her son in disbelief. Even though her son had filled her in last night on what had happened - not wanting her to panic when she heard about it secondhand - she still couldn't fathom how the son of one of Fin's most trusted assistants had deceived everyone about his true feelings. "It's...it's..." She struggled to convey her true feelings as she peered into his troubled, blue eyes.

"Fucking incredible," he supplied, his lips pressed grimly together as she nodded in agreement. "Just a few more seconds...a little more time...and that bastard would have...shit," he muttered as he briefly covered his eyes with the palms of his hands, unable to even voice the thought aloud. He removed them a few seconds later to peer over at her and say, "Now you know why Tony and I are worried. He can't be the only whack job out there, Mom."

She nodded at him; it was useless to deny it, even though the last thing she wanted to do was worry her son even more. "I know," she replied softly. "I know." She paused for a moment, knowing it wouldn't do any good to ask Justin if that might be enough to make either Fin or Brian decide to quit. That word didn't seem to be in either of their vocabularies.

Justin sighed as he brushed his hand through his hair in frustration. Part of him wanted to lock Brian - and Fin - away for the rest of their lives while the other part knew that wouldn't work. Deep down he didn't want them to give up, either. "This has become a lot more dangerous than I ever thought possible, Mom," he admitted. "But we both know quitting isn't an option here. And I actually told Brian I agree with that, even though I'm scared shitless that someone else will pick up where Stewart left off."

"Can't they hire additional security?" his mother inquired.

Justin snorted. "That's what Brian told me they were going to do, but I didn't exactly see a lot more presence just then, did you?" His mother shook her head mutely as he let out a tense breath between his lips. Further conversation was halted just then, though, by the sound of a familiar, excited voice nearby.

"Sunshine! Jennifer!" Debbie squealed in delight as she came rushing up to them. From her button-festooned vest, colorful clothing and the pencil tucked behind her ear, it was apparent she was just now arriving for her shift at the diner.

"Hi, Deb," Justin greeted her with an affectionate smile as the red-haired woman bent down to give Justin a kiss on the cheek. With an apologetic smile, she brought her red-lacquered index finger up to his face to wipe the lipstick smear away as she nodded over at Jennifer. "Hey, Jen!" she greeted her as Jennifer returned her smile. "You two doing some catching up? If you want to live, stay away from the Blue Plate Special today," she cracked. "You'll need a chisel to cut through the sausage casing. I've told Stan a thousand times to buy a different brand of meat, but he never pays attention to me..."

Justin and his mother exchanged a glance, both knowing they might as well let Debbie finish up her speech about the diner's owner. It wouldn't do any good to interrupt her anyway. "We're just having coffee and some lemon bars," he reassured her as she nodded.

"I'm coming!" Debbie shouted in Justin's ear as the waitress who had served Justin and Jennifer called out her name. "Don't tie your tits in a knot! Now where was I?" she asked as she furrowed her brow. Her face brightened as she exclaimed, "Oh, yeah!" She leaned her elbow against the top of Justin's side of the booth as she asked, "Did you just get back from your road trip, Sunshine? I heard about what happened last night! Are Fin and Brian doing okay?"

Justin nodded, preferring to try and forget about it but knowing that was impossible. "They're both fine," he answered somewhat cryptically, glancing around Debbie at the television screen and noticing one of the major cable news networks' two anchors speaking. There was a 'new development' banner at the bottom with the words Police Chief Implicated in Turner Briberies scrawling left to right in a marquee fashion. "What the fuck?" he whispered as he held up his hand for Debbie to be silent.

Miraculously she chose to obey him as she turned to see what he was so engrossed in. Justin's heart began to beat wildly as an all-too-familiar face appeared on the screen. "No fucking way..."

"Turn it up, Kiki!" Debbie demanded of her fellow waitress who was standing near the remote lying on the counter. A few seconds later the male part of the news anchor team could be heard saying, "Repeating. Reliable sources are telling us that James Stockwell, former police chief of Pittsburgh, has been implicated in providing funds to former gubernatorial candidate Richard Turner's campaign in connection with the two men who appeared at a recent press conference in an attempt to discredit both Turner's opposing candidate, Fintan O'Connor, as well as his son and campaign manager, Brian Kinney. We will have more information on this breaking news story as soon as it becomes available."

"Holy fuck," Debbie breathed out, her mouth hanging open in recollection as she stared up at twin photos of Turner and Stockwell displayed side by side on the television screen. "I should have known those two devil spawns separated at birth were up to no good together."

His friend's words slowly registered in Justin's brain as he turned to peer over at the redhead. "What did you say?"

Debbie's face flushed slightly as she admitted, "I was working the breakfast shift a few weeks ago and noticed the two of them sitting here together; hell, it was almost in the same booth you're sitting in now."

"What?" Justin exclaimed in surprise. "You saw Stockwell - with Turner - and you never said anything to me or Brian?"

Debbie was quick to explain, "At the time I only recognized Stockwell, Sunshine; I had no idea the other man was Turner until I saw him a few days later. By then the two of you were out on the road with the Senator. I had no idea what they were up to - I just figured that ass Stockwell was aligning himself with anyone who was opposed to Brian and his father just to get back at him; I didn't know the man was actually bankrolling Turner's scheme." She eyed Justin sympathetically. "You know if I had any idea that they were conspiring to do either Brian or his father harm I would have told you right away. I actually walked off my shift that day in protest; I refused to come anywhere near that asshole." She gazed into her friend's eyes - the eyes that always told so much about his emotions - and she saw just the hint of anger there. "You do believe that, don't you, Kiddo?"

Justin let out a heavy breath between his lips and finally nodded to Debbie's relief. "Yeah, I believe you," he assured her, knowing she would never do anything to deliberately cause them any hurt or harm. "I'm still trying to wrap my own head around his involvement in this whole thing." He shook his head in repulsion. "I thought we were done with that man a long time ago. Fuck. Is there no end to this?"

Debbie reached down and affectionately squeezed the young man's shoulder; Justin had become as much a son to her as her own son Michael was, and just with her biological son she always hated to see him upset. "I'm sorry, Sunshine," she murmured. "I know this whole thing has to be so hard on you."

Justin swallowed hard; if she only knew the half of it. Even HE hadn't realized how difficult the entire experience would be. At that moment he physically ached to have Brian back home with him. It seemed like an eternity since they had been in Ireland on their honeymoon. What a wonderful, blissfully happy time that had been for them! He sighed wistfully, suddenly needing to feel Brian's arms around him and hear his words of reassurance and love. Inexplicably feeling like he was being smothered somehow, he slid across the booth's slick, vinyl surface and stood up. "I have to get out of here," he told them. I'm going to go take a walk. Would you excuse me?"

"Justin?" Jennifer asked softly in concern, instantly discerning his expression; it was hauntingly similar to right after his bashing so long ago.

"I'm okay," he told her firmly as he split his attention between her and Debbie. "I just need to get some fresh air. It's feeling very rank in here all of a sudden." He sighed. "I'll call you later, Mom." To make sure she knew he wasn't upset with her, Justin reached over to pull Debbie over by the scruff of her neck and bestow a quick kiss on her cheek. "I'll bring Gus by one day to see you," he told her with a soft smile. "He's been craving one of your strawberry milkshakes lately." That wasn't exactly the truth - Gus DID like the way that Debbie made them - but he hadn't mentioned them recently.

Debbie nodded back at him with a relieved smile of her own as the two women watched him turn around and leave. As he opened the diner's door and escaped, Debbie turned to her friend with a sigh of her own. "It's going to be a long summer."

---

Three Hours Later - Fin's Campaign Headquarters

"Well, looks like the jackals finally gave up on getting any more information," Kirk announced as he walked into the building and deposited two paper bags of deli sandwiches on top of Fin's desk. "The coast is clear, gentlemen. I think they've moved their focus down to police headquarters for the time being."

Fin nodded from his position behind his desk; his custom-made suit jacket had long ago been haphazardly draped across the back of the couch and the sleeves of his silk shirt pushed up to his elbows as he and Brian had spent the last few hours strategizing their next moves. Both of them had decided that the events of last night, coupled with Stockwell being implicated in Turner's now-backfired scheme to discredit them, could only be positive for their campaign. They had discussed just how much to exploit the other party's weakness before deciding to rise above all the hatred and homophobic nonsense and stick to the important issues of the campaign. While Turner's pathetic attempts to paint them in a bad light might have had a critical influence on the outcome of the campaign, the man's withdrawal, coupled with Whittle's entry into the race, meant this was their best course of action. Whittle was not inept or inexperienced as Turner had been; he would not allow himself to be influenced by bigoted cronies and thus he would prove to be a more difficult opponent to overcome.

"Well, at least we didn't have to be the ones to implicate Stockwell after all," Fin observed dryly. "Our inside contact is still safely unknown. I should have guessed the press would figure that out on their own somehow."

"It's just as well," Brian decided from his place on the couch; he was thoughtfully twirling a Montblanc ballpoint pen in his hand. "I'm glad someone rooted it out; it saves us the dilemma of what to do with the information, and now the fucker's going to be in a shitload of trouble. His sorry ass can just go back from where it crawled out of now."

Fin grinned. "I don't think that will be a problem; from what I heard when Art called me back, Stockwell's going to have a lot of explaining to do when the Election Fraud Commission and the District Attorney's office get through with him. I think the only décor he'll be seeing soon are four concrete walls and a slab floor."

Brian harrumphed. "Son of a bitch," he muttered in contempt. "I'd be glad to personally give him a shove back into his fucking cell." He sighed in rephension as he rose from his place on the couch, placing his hands at the small of his back and leaning his torso backward to stretch out his stiff muscles.

"You heading back home?" Fin asked him softly. He knew Brian had to be worn out, just like he was, not only by the day's events but from being at the hospital so late last night. He also knew Brian wanted to get home to Justin and decompress for a while, just like he was yearning to do with Tony.

Brian nodded at his father. "Yeah. I need to go check in on my businesses to make sure they haven't been run into the ground," he deadpanned, even though he knew with Cynthia and Ted leading the reins they were in good hands. That had certainly made his decision to step back from them and run his father's campaign a lot easier. "I'll be back in plenty of time for the next debate next week and you can reach me by my cell if something critical comes up in the meantime."

Fin nodded as his son walked up and extended his hand. He paused for just a second before he reached over to firmly clasp it and offer a soft smile. So many emotions flittered across his face as he looked into his son's eyes - gratitude, respect, and yes, love - and he thought, or at least hoped, that Brian's face reflected the same. They held their grip for a few seconds longer before, with a slight nod to his father as well as Kirk and Mark, he turned and quietly left the room to catch the taxi out front that had been summoned for him.

Fin watched him go for a few seconds longer until Brian had opened and closed the door behind him before letting out a deep breath. "Okay, Gentlemen, I think we've had enough excitement for the time being - too much excitement," he added wryly. "I'm heading back home for a while. If anything critical comes up you know where to find me."

---

Brian blew out a pregnant breath as, with a cursory nod at the bustling campaign staff, he opened the door to leave the building, taking a quick glance around the outside to make sure that the press had, indeed, finally dispersed. To his relief, he saw nothing except for typical pedestrian and vehicle traffic for the slightly out-of-the-way downtown street, along with something else he recognized. Or should he say someone else.

In a déjà vu moment, he glanced down at the corner alcove of the building a few feet away, instantly recognizing the slight figure sitting there with his hands curled around his ankles. This time the kid was wearing a faded hoodie that might have been black at some point but was now more of a dark gray color. The hood was framing his smudged face, with a few wisps of what could be blond or light brown hair poking out underneath. He was sporting a pair of dusty-looking jeans with two frayed holes in the knees and a pair of Keds that had seen much better days in the past; his shoelaces were hanging down on either side of the sneakers which appeared to be two sizes too big for him. A crumpled duffel bag of a military-green color lay balled up by his feet.

A pair of dark-blue, piercing eyes peered over at him with a mixture of distrust as well as curiosity; Brian was surprised by their vibrancy given the circumstances and was struck by how they reminded him of someone else's blue eyes, even though Justin's were more of a lighter sapphire color. The obstinate, fearless type of expression staring back at him, however, was very much like his partner's at times. He recognized, however, that looks could be deceiving, though. He had lost count of how many times he had plastered that same look on his OWN face when he was growing up and his father was being a total shit to him (that is, when he wasn't beating the tar out of him after being in a drunken tirade).

"Fancy meeting YOU here," Brian intoned as he peered down at the kid who was squinting slightly to avoid staring at him directly into the sun. Brian shifted his stance just enough to block out the blinding rays as the boy met his gaze evenly. "Time for breakfast again?"

"Fuck off," was the unexpectedly rebellious reply as the kid glared back at him. "Last time I looked this was a public street." The voice was surprisingly strong for such a rather small form.

Brian snorted. Little shit. "Well, this isn't a public street. It's a sidewalk, emphasis on the walk. So why don't you be a good little boy and just take a hike?"

The kid stared up at him defiantly, brilliant blue eyes flashing. "You're not my keeper. YOU go take a hike and leave me the fuck alone."

Brian bristled at the kid's insolence briefly, but something in the tone of his voice made him pause. How often had he tried the same tactic with his own mother and father when he had been growing up in an attempt to make it seem like he didn't care when they belittled him, beat him, or made him feel like he was two inches tall? The truth was that despite their loathsome behavior at the time he DID care; shit, he had still loved them for some reason back then even when they DID treat him like dirt. Because at the time they were the only parents he had.

Of course that had been before he had grown up and discovered that he had a father that really DID care about him. That knowledge now made him able to look back on his past and realize that what he had growing up with Jack and Joan Kinney wasn't love; it was more like thinly-veiled tolerance. That knowledge made him sick to his stomach now and made him enormously grateful as well as relieved to know that they hadn't been his parents in any sense of the word at all.

As he studied the insolent-looking face glaring up at him, now, though, something occurred to him. Wasn't he guilty of doing the same thing to this kid? And was this boy feeling the same things that he himself had felt at that same age?

Letting out a breath between his lips, he trod the few steps over closer toward the boy and squatted down in front of him. Now that they were on an eye-to-eye level, he could see the tired lines etched around the kid's long-lashed eyes and the firm pursing of the lips that slightly quivered in reaction; his dirty hands grasped the sides of his denim legs tightly as if he were trying to escape into himself, to a place where no one else could find him. Yeah...I know that look, kid. It was almost like looking at a mirror back in time...

"What are you doing out on the streets anyway?" he asked quietly. He watched as the kid turned his head away from him to peer out into the street nearby, a part vacant/part thoughtful look on his face.

"Why do you want to know?" was the curt reply as the kid continued to gaze out onto the street traffic. "It's none of your fucking business what I do."

"Yes, it is," Brian maintained as he placed his hands on top of his thighs to balance himself, oblivious to the occasional passerby who glanced down at the oddly-matched pair as they went by. "You're on private property for one thing and you're obviously not in school. So why are you here?"

"I like the scenery," was the smart-aleck response as the urchin finally turned his gaze back to Brian. "So now that you've solved one of life's greatest mysteries, you can go about your business and leave me the fuck alone."

Brian sighed. Why was he bothering? Why should be even care? But something about this kid reminded him painfully of himself so he plodded on nonetheless. "Where do you stay at night? Where do you sleep?"

The kid snorted softly. "What's sleep?" He turned his head away when Brian caught a glimpse of tears forming in his eyes as he added in a voice that belied his tender years, "Out here you don't sleep if you want to stay alive."

God. Brian's heart clenched. Even when he was around this kid's age and being treated like a piece of squashed gum on Jack Kinney's shoe he at least always had a place to sleep at night. Flashes of how he would feel if his own son had to go through what this kid apparently had to endure every day popped into his mind before he swallowed hard. He couldn't imagine his own child having to go through this; what the hell had happened in this kid's life to make him feel that this was preferable to everything else?

Brian bit his lip thoughtfully as he looked around their surroundings. He couldn't see anywhere that this child could have come from - no drop-in shelters, no orphanages, only dirty, somewhat-neglected storefronts and an occasional brownstone apartment building. "Where are your parents?" he asked softly.

"Gone," the kid answered curtly.

"Gone? Where?"

"To fucking hell, I hope." The kid stared up at Brian intently, his eyes moist; there was an unexpected hitch to his voice as he asked, "Why the fuck do you care? I'm not bothering anyone."

"No," Brian conceded. "But a kid your age doesn't belong out here on their own. What exactly do you mean in hell? They're dead?" As the kid shifted his hands from around his ankles, for the first time Brian noticed what appeared to be a burn mark on the boy's inner wrist and his eyes widened.

The kid considered how to reply to that question. It had been a long time since he had been asked that. But there was something in this man's voice that actually sounded suspiciously like genuine caring and concern. "Yeah..." He finally answered warily. "Dead. Buried ten feet into the fucking ground where they belong."

So there was no love lost there, Brian observed. "How?"

The kid eyed Brian carefully before finally responding, "Shot up with some bad heroin. I...I tried to wake them up. Why I don't know, but I did." He turned his face back toward the street, slowly traveling back a year in time to when it had happened. "When I touched them and they...they were cold as ice, I knew they weren't coming back."

Brian's heart skipped a beat. It had been a long time now since he had even used any drugs and he had always been so careful about where - and who - he got them from. Could this have happened to him, though, if he had continued? And how would he have felt if GUS had been the one to find him like that? He swallowed the hard lump in this throat as he nodded. "So what happened after that?"

The boy shook his head in doubt. "Why do you care? You don't know me."

"Just tell me," Brian urged him, completely forgetting for the moment that his private pilot was probably wondering what was taking him so long to get to the airport.

"Nothing. Nothing happened," the kid answered as he peered into the expressive hazel eyes. "I...I grabbed a few things and left."

Brian's eyes widened. "Just like that? Why? You did nothing wrong."

The kid shrugged. "My parents stole all kinds of things to feed their drug habit. I was tired of dealing with it and didn't want the police taking me to juvie hall or some foster parents. I can take care of myself; been doing it for almost a year now," he said almost proudly.

Brian gazed at him in amazement. A YEAR? This kid had been living on the streets for a fucking YEAR? "But how do you survive, especially in the winter?" he wondered. Thoughts of Michael and Ben's son, Hunter, filtered through his mind. Was this how this kid survived, too? By selling his own body for food and shelter? "You don't, uh, you know..." For once Brian's normal glibness evaded him.

The kid snorted. "You mean hustle?" he asked as Brian nodded silently. "I'm better than that," was the smug reply. "I'm the best dumpster diver in town. I teach OTHER kids how to do it. You'd be surprised what restaurants and grocery stores throw out. And there's enough abandoned cars and buildings around to stay in, as long as you don't overstay your welcome." He didn't tell this man that he had spent plenty a night scared shitless out of his mind as odd, strange noises assailed his hearing or he scurried into a dark alcove somewhere just in time to evade someone else who was pursuing shelter for the night, or who wanted a quick fuck with him. He had long ago lost track of when he could say he actually had had a decent night's sleep or a real meal. His last real, non-garbage food had probably been when this same man had left a five for him before.

Brian was skeptical of the kid's cockiness; his boastfulness was tempered by a hint of uncertainty and insecurity. He most of all knew people were adept at exuding confidence sometimes that wasn't really there; hell, he was the consummate master of it at times - that was how he managed to secure so many advertising accounts, along with his sharp business acumen. He knew this kid was definitely acting more assured than he really was. He knelt there, pondering exactly what to do and wondering why he even cared before he finally told him, "Well, you can't just stay here forever."

The kid's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "You gonna call the fucking cops on me just for sitting here?"

Brian sighed. "No, I'm not the truancy police," he assured him. He remembered that the weatherman had earlier mentioned that while it was sunny temporarily, a cold front would be approaching this afternoon, bringing the threat of severe weather and at least an inch of rain. Despite this kid's bravado, he couldn't imagine the boy finding a decent place to stay in such order and the thought of him hunched up in this corner trying to stay dry made him feel terrible. He couldn't very well take him home with him, though, and he didn't quite trust him enough to let him stay inside Fin's headquarters. So what the hell was he supposed to do? He could just walk away and act like he didn't care, but the truth was he DID care. He saw too much of himself in this kid to ignore him.

A decision made, then, he stood up, groaning softly at the stiffness in his legs AND his back now. He vowed to persuade Justin to give him a nice, long massage when he got home to rectify that problem before he said, "Well, get up. You're not staying here."

"I thought you said..."

"I didn't say I was going to the police," he told the kid huffily. He reached inside his pocket to retrieve his cellphone. "You need somewhere to sleep, something to eat, and most of all a fucking bath. Get up." There was no hint of choice in the command.

The kid eyed him intently. This man, this stranger, was going to put him up somewhere for the night? Just like that? "I'm not doing you any favors," was the reply. "You're nice looking, but way too old for me. You can forget it if that's what you want." He tried hard to make himself sound self-assured, but inside he was scared shitless that this man - who seemed sympathetic - was after something else altogether. For just a moment he had really believed he was different.

To his surprise, Brian chuckled at his response. "Thanks for the back-handed compliment, but that's the furthest thing from my mind," he assured him. "I like 'em young, but you're WAY too young for me, trust me. Besides, I already HAVE a 'hot little thing' back home who keeps me quite satisfied."

The kid's brow lifted in revelation. "You're a fag, aren't you?"

Brian grinned at the unexpected slang term that fell from the young mouth and how this kid didn't pull any punches. "Yeah, I'm a fag through and through. Got a problem with that, kid?"

The boy shrugged. "No, I don't give a shit WHAT you are."

Brian smiled. "Well, that's refreshing considering who I've been dealing with lately." He flipped his phone open to call a moderately-priced hotel from his list; he never set foot in such places, but they had come in handy lately from time-to-time for other members of Fin's staff who had come in from out of town to help out. He spoke briefly to the person answering the phone to reserve a single room before snapping the phone shut. He was somewhat surprised to see that the kid had finally rose from his sitting position and now had his tattered duffel bag hanging from one slender shoulder. Brian thought the kid looked decidedly too thin but kept his observations to himself as he nodded. "Come on - it's only a block or two down that way."

"We're going to walk there?"

Brian snorted. "For someone who's homeless, you're pretty particular. If I can handle it, YOU can handle it," he assured him. "You want some decent food, a bed for a few nights, and a bath or not?"

"A few nights?" The kid couldn't help the hopeful response. Was this man actually going to pay for him to stay in a hotel for more than one night? "What's the catch?" he asked warily.

Brian rolled his eyes as he began to leave. "Will you stop with the twenty questions? How many times do I have to tell you? No catch. I'm going back home for a few days and I don't want to have to worry about YOU in the meantime. Now are we going or not? This is your last chance; I have a plane to catch." He stood there, hands on his hips, as he waited for the kid to make up his mind. If he was as smart and astute as he thought he was, there could be only one answer.

The kid stared after his companion's slowly-retreating back for a few more seconds before slowly he began to follow him from what he considered a safe distance. Brian glanced back enough to see that he was, indeed, being followed and smiled a little in triumph.

He turned around for just a moment to ask, "By the way, my name's Brian. What's yours?"

The kid paused in his tracks to ponder how to reply. The smart-aleck response that he wanted to say for some reason didn't escape his lips as he stood there silently eyeing his benefactor.

"Well? I know you're not deaf. Was that a particularly hard question? I assume it's not some state secret or something. I repeat - what's your name?"

The kid let out a heavy breath of resignation. After what this stranger was willing to do for him, he supposed he owed him that much at least. Besides, how would he know if he was telling him the truth or not? There was no way he could possibly check. For some reason, he didn't see the need to be disingenuous as he replied simply with a one-word answer, "Alex."

Brian nodded, heartened somewhat by this small victory. Wondering if that was REALLY the kid's name or he just made it up, he decided for the time being that it didn't matter either way. "Okay. Alex. Let's go."

Slowly the two of them walked down the sidewalk toward their destination, both unaware that this chance meeting would change both of their lives forever.

---

Britin - Early Evening

Justin's pulse quickened at the sound of a car door slamming inside the garage; placing the large knife down on the wooden butcher block that he was using to cut vegetables on, he hurriedly wiped off his hands with a dark blue kitchen towel before rushing over toward the door that separated the garage from the house.

He arrived there just as Brian opened the door and stepped inside. Brian had just enough time to put his leather laptop tote down on the small desk next to the door before he was enveloped by a body plastered firmly against his and two arms wrapped around him like a vise.

"Hey," Brian murmured as his own arms wound around Justin's body and he pulled him closer against him, placing his chin on the soft blond hair. He stood there for several seconds, sensing that his husband needed his embrace as much as HE needed his, before he finally pulled back to gaze down into the warm blue eyes.

Their mouths seemed to move as one as they came together and kissed deeply; it would be several more seconds before they both reluctantly pulled away, still holding each other in their arms. "You okay?" Brian asked Justin softly as he stared into his eyes.

Justin nodded as Brian's hands came up to frame his face between them. "I am now that you're back home," he told him, savoring the touch of his husband's strong, warm hands on his cheeks as Brian's fingers caressed his skin. He noticed the slight lines etched across his forehead. "You look worn out," he told him.

Brian dropped his hands to rest his arms on either side of Justin's neck as he nodded. 'Yeah, it's been a fucking long day," he told him. He paused for a moment before asking, "I assume you heard?" It had been so crazy today that he hadn't had a chance to talk to Justin on the phone about everything that had happened, and he had a lot to discuss with him.

Justin idly caressed Brian's lower back as he asked, "You mean about Stockwell?" Just the mention of the man's voice made his blood pressure rise even now and a sour taste emerge in his mouth. He still couldn't comprehend how the man had gotten out of jail.

Brian nodded. "I meant to call you after I first heard about it, but it was so crazy today...Besides, there wasn't anything either one of us could do. Still makes me mad as hell, though."

"I know," Justin said softly. "It makes me angry, too. The only thing that makes me able to tolerate it at all is the idea that his ass will wind up back in jail again soon."

"Count on it," Brian vowed. "I won't rest until I know that asshole is back where he belongs; he never should have gotten out in the first place."

Justin nodded as he let out a heavy-laden breath. "I'm just glad you're home," he told him. "I know we just saw each other this morning, but..."

Brian reached and placed his left index finger gently over the soft mouth to say, "I feel the same way. You have NO idea..."

Justin caught Brian's hand in his own and kissed the knuckles briefly before bringing their clasped hands together between their chests. "What?"

Brian shook his head with a tender smile. "It can wait," he assured him. "Let's talk about it later. I just want to relax for a while." He inhaled a nearby, familiar scent and his lips turned up knowingly. "That smells suspiciously like my favorite dish, Mr. Taylor-Kinney. How did you even know I'd be home in time to eat it?"

Justin blushed slightly, knowing he had been caught. "I didn't...Call it wishful thinking instead." He reached up and slowly slid Brian's leather jacket off his shoulders, draping it carefully over the back of the wooden desk chair. "Why don't you go sit down in the study and fix yourself a drink? Dinner should be ready soon."

"I have a better idea," Brian suggested. "Why don't you put that chicken fettuccine on 'warm' and come upstairs and take a shower with me? I think that would relax me even MORE." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively as Justin smiled.

"You're sooooo transparent," he teased him as Brian curled his lips under boyishly. "Let's see...chicken fettuccine or a shower with my gorgeous husband, shower with my gorgeous husband or chicken fettuccine...hmmm...that's a tough call," Justin hesitated just long enough to evoke a raised eyebrow from Brian in incredulity.

"Okay, you convinced me," Justin conceded at last. "I'll go put the food on simmer and you go get the water ready," he told him.

Brian grinned as he bent down and kissed Justin lightly on the nose before he let him go. "Just don't take too long - my 'simmer' cycle is a lot shorter than the stove's," he warned him. Justin snorted and received a quick slap on his ass as he turned around to walk toward the gourmet appliance. Brian admired the view briefly before, pulling at his neck as if his sweater were too tight, he turned to walk toward the hallway to ascend the stairs. "I'll be waiting...impatiently," he called out as he began to climb up the steps.

Justin turned the pan on the stove down to its lowest setting and gave it one more stir with a large, wooden spoon before he turned around to follow Brian upstairs.

---

Three Hours Later

Justin lay on his stomach, his torso draped over Brian's chest as he lay his head down against the taut, warm skin and listened to the steady beat of his husband's heart, so strong and so reassuring. He noticed that Brian had been inexplicably quiet before, during and after their lovemaking. It wasn't unusual for Brian to be somewhat quiet afterward, but he was normally quite vocal beforehand when he enjoyed telling him exactly what he had in mind for them, and during sex he normally would at least utter a few cries of his name and a grunt or groan here and there. Tonight, though, each time they had made love (once in the shower, twice in bed), Brian's touch had been as tender as ever and his eyes held the same type of devotion for him that they always did, but he had been strangely reserved.

Justin lifted his head high enough to look into Brian's face, seeing the hazel eyes staring intently back at him. "You've been awfully quiet tonight," he whispered. "Want to tell me what you've been thinking about?" He scooted up on his hands, palms down on either side of Brian's body, to get a better look at his face and braced himself on his husband's upper arms. "You're not having second thoughts about running your father's campaign, are you?"

Brian shook his head. "No, you know me better than that," he gently chided him. "I don't back down from a fight, especially one as important as this one." He reached down with his left hand to lightly feather Justin's hair at the back of his neck, the strands still slightly sweaty from their last lovemaking session. "I'm not going anywhere until he comes out victorious this fall." This was no hesitation in his assessment of his father's chances as he spoke; Fin WOULD win - there could be no other conclusion.

Justin nodded. "I didn't think that was it. Then what? Is it the same thing that was bothering you before dinner?"

Brian gazed into the eyes that were his anchor, his constant, and his steady source of support. On the way home from the airport, he found his thoughts constantly straying to the kid he had run into once more at the front of Fin's campaign headquarters. Why did that continue to bother him so much? Why did he care? He suspected the reason why but did not want to voice it aloud.

"Brian?"

Brian blinked as he refocused on Justin's look of concern. He took his hand from behind his husband's neck and gently caressed his cheek in reassurance. "It's not that big a deal," he told him. "It's...It's just this kid."

Justin frowned, not knowing quite what to expect but taken aback by that answer. "Kid? What kid?"

Brian sighed as he placed his hand back at the scruff of his husband's neck and resumed his feathering of Justin's hair; he did that so often he sometimes didn't even realize he was doing it, but it was one of his favorite activities where Justin was concerned. "There was this kid - this homeless kid - who I've found camped out twice now in front of Fin's campaign headquarters by the front door. The first time was several days ago. He asked me for a five and I wasn't going to give it to him, but I did anyway," he admitted. He twisted one part of his lips up as he explained, "He looked skinny as hell like he hadn't eaten in a while, so I thought he might be hungry."

Justin smiled softly at him over his tenderheartedness, not exactly surprised. Brian never HAD been the coldhearted, non-feeling bastard that people sometimes wanted to accuse him of being. He had nailed him accurately from the start. Brian always HAD felt things deeply - he just demonstrated how he felt differently than most people. That didn't mean that he didn't feel the same emotions just like everyone else did. "You said you ran into him twice? You saw him again today, then?"

Brian nodded. "Yeah, when I was leaving to come home. There he was again, curled up in the same corner, wearing a ratty old hoodie and staring over at me again with this smug, arrogant look of defiance. I told him to take a hike and he promptly told me to fuck off."

Justin giggled as Brian glared down at him. "Sorry," he told him sheepishly. "But you have to admit it's pretty funny. He reminds me of someone ELSE I know. And he certainly doesn't sound like the timid type around you."

Brian huffed. "Not quite." He gazed down at Justin before he admitted, "I should have just turned around and left him there when he said that...But I couldn't for some reason."

Justin nodded, figuring that was what Brian was going to tell him. He could tell there was something about this kid that was bothering him. "So what did you do?"

He paused. "I wound up taking him down the street to a hotel and putting him up for the next few nights until I return."

Justin's eyes grew wide. "You did what? Brian, you don't know that kid! Why would you do that?"

Brian struggled to explain; even with Justin, the one person he could be totally candid with, his reasons might seem odd. "He reminded me of when I was his age. I found out both his parents died on the same day after shooting up heroin and overdosing. He took off before the cops got there because he was afraid of being taken into foster care. Justin, the boy's apparently been living on the street for the past YEAR. I can't even imagine having to do that. Even when my own parents treated me like shit - well, who I THOUGHT were my parents - I always had somewhere to go, even if I had to run over to Michael's house to escape. This kid apparently has no one and nowhere to go. I couldn't just leave him like that...Could I?"

Justin reached over to still his husband's lips with a touch of his fingers as he shook his head slightly. "No, you couldn't," he reassured him, not sure if the boy had been upfront with Brian and wondering how truthful the kid had been. Brian was normally a good judge of character, but it was possible this boy's supposed plight had colored his judgment somewhat. Perhaps it didn't really matter, though - the important thing was that it made Brian feel better and he loved him even more for his concern. Brian had told him a lot about his childhood, but he suspected there were still a lot of things he hadn't told him yet. In a way, he was a little envious of Michael for probably knowing more than he did about that horrible time in his husband's life, but he also knew that Brian's love for him was strong and deep. When he was ready, he would tell him. And in the meantime, he would be there ready to listen. "You did what you needed to do," he told him. "And I love you for that." Brian kissed his fingers, the vibration of his lips causing Justin's heart to flip-flop as he asked, "What are you going to do when you get back, though? He can't just stay there at that hotel forever, and he can't camp out on Fin's doorstep permanently, either. Something will have to be done with him."

Brian sighed as he gripped Justin's hand, the paler fingers curling over his as he lay their intertwined hands down on his chest and squeezed the smaller one. "I'm not sure," he admitted. "I can't turn him into the police to go to foster care. I just can't do that, Justin." He shuddered at the thought. He had never had to endure foster care - and he supposed there were some decent foster parents - but he had seen how adamant this Alex was about not going there and he wouldn't do it. Where the boy WOULD go, however, was still a quandary. "I left my credit card information on file with the hotel and strict orders NOT to let the brat turn the pay T.V. on and even allow him access to the minibar in the room. I gave him just enough money to get something to eat each day at one of the nearby fast food restaurants and told him if he ran out of money it was tough shit. At least he'll have somewhere to sleep and take a shower in the meantime - the kid was not only scrawny but filthy and stinky as hell."

Justin gazed into his eyes, one corner of his mouth turned up. "So you bought him some new clothes, too."

Brian shrugged. "Well, they had a clothes boutique in the hotel's arcade," he explained. "I just bought him one complete outfit and something to sleep in, that's all."

Justin nodded, figuring that 'one complete outfit' and sleepwear probably set his husband back a pretty penny. Brian didn't do anything cheap. "Uh, huh," he murmured as he reached up with his spare hand and brushed some hair back from Brian's face. With him being so busy on the campaign trail, Brian hadn't had time for his regular trim; his hair was longer than normal as a result and he was finding it sexy as hell. "I like your hair longer, by the way," he told Brian unexpectedly as he twisted some of the auburn strands around his middle finger. He trailed his hand down the bronze face to trace the slight stubble along Brian's jaw as he added, "And I like this unshaven look, too. Looks incredibly hot on you."

Brian grinned impishly back at him. "HOW hot?" he asked huskily as he continued to lazily play with Justin's own hair at the back of his neck.

"VERY hot. Makes your husband very horny as a result - that and not seeing you all day."

"HOW horny?"

Justin wriggled on top of Brian, causing the brunet to groan softly in response. "Why don't I show you?"

---

A/N: Sorry about the longer-than-normal delay; just got back from the QAF con in Germany (what an experience!), but I should be back on track now. As always, I thank you for your readership and ongoing support.:)