Alex begins her first day at the diner with Debbie; amidst some minor drama, some bonds are made in unlikely ways. The day of the election draws near.

Liberty Diner - Morning

Debbie glanced over at her charge, currently wearing a white apron that tied at the back of her neck and waist with a makeshift, handwritten badge that had Alex scrawled in bold handwriting across the chest. Just like before when she had first set eyes upon her, Alex was wearing a gender-neutral outfit underneath her apron of a short-sleeved, gray t-shirt and the same pair of worn - but now clean - jeans that she had been wearing before. With her slight build, short hair style, and no makeup, it was still hard to tell if this "Alex" was a he or a she as the young girl struggled to carry a full load of soiled dishes toward the kitchen. Debbie hurried over to help, lifting one end of the plastic bin and helping her to set it down with a bang onto the kitchen pass-through ledge as Alex plopped down wearily into an empty booth nearby. The morning crowd had finallythinned out, so Debbie allowed her the temporary luxury of taking a break.

Alex sighed as she rubbed her sneakered feet. Debbie had been working her relentlessly from the first moment they had arrived at the diner. True to her warning, the patrons had filed in practically nonstop from the moment the place had opened. To Alex's shock, there had even been a group of five or six waiting at the door as they arrived to get in like it was some Black Friday event. Now, as she reached to wipe her sweaty brow with one end of her apron, she wondered fleetingly if living on the street would be easier.

She had to admit silently, though, that it wouldn't be nearly as colorful. Despite observing all walks of life when she had been forced to live on the street, this diner seemed to bring out the weirdness factor in droves. She had already seen one man come in wearing jeans with the ass cheeks cut out of them, another one dressed in full drag queen garb from her pink fingernails down to her glittery, silver stilettos, two leather-clad 'bears' as Debbie had called them who held hands at the counter while they drank their coffee and made goo-goo eyes at each other, and a woman with multi-colored hair - her real hair, Debbie informed her - that was wearing a leather, silver-studded collar and full biker regalia.

"Are you sure the circus isn't in town this week?" she quipped as she noticed someone wearing a purple, sleeveless tunic and a pair of leatherette, lizard-skin gray pants striding in. A feather boa was tied around the tall man's neck, almost as if it were a flag of some type. He smiled over at Debbie and waved before he took his place over at one of the booths.

Debbie smacked her gum briefly, a white, damp dishtowel in her hand as she replied with a smile, "Nope, that's just Emmett; sweetest guy you would ever want to meet." She watched to make sure that he was going to be served by someone else before turning her attention back to her assistant.

"No thanks," Alex quipped dryly. "It might rub off on me."

"What?" Debbie asked. "The dress style or the sweetness? Not much chance of that."

Alex rolled her eyes as she idly played with the salt and pepper shakers, knocking them together like they were two play soldiers.

"Fuck, my feet are killing me," she muttered with a sigh. "How long does this chain gang detail last?"

"Until the shift's over, Hot Stuff," Debbie told her as she glanced up at the plain, round, plastic clock hanging over the door. "About four more hours."

Alex's mouth hung open. "Four hours? No way my feet can last that long."

Debbie whipped out her pencil from behind her ear and dropped the towel down onto the booth as she noticed a new diner entering the restaurant and heading over to the area that she and Alex had been assigned to for the day. "Don't bullshit me," she told her as she stared her down. "You're a century younger than me. Break's over; get up, Toots, and help me wait on this customer."

"What if I don't want to?" she challenged her.

Debbie eyed her carefully as the young brunet twink in the nearby booth called over to her. "I'm coming!" she groused. "Pink plate specials are on the board! None of them will kill you except for the one with the goetta! What the fuck is goetta, anyway?" she muttered under her breath as she shook her head. She turned her attention back to her young helper as she leaned over the back of the booth with her elbows. "Your choice," she told her flatly. "I'm not going to lock you in here, and I won't beg you to stay. If you really feel like it's better to take your chances out on the street, beg for food and sell your body to smelly, old perverts to stay alive, then you can walk out that door right now." Alex folded her arms across her chest and stared back at her defiantly, but Debbie thought she caught just a glimmer of hesitation in her eyes as she realized she wasn't joking. "So what's it going to be? Some sore feet that you can soak in the tub when you get back to my place, or a sore ass from sleeping on some rat-infested floor in an abandoned building? Although I DO hear that the food in the dumpster down at Leo's is pretty tasty - if you can beat the bums, drug addicts, and flies that congregate near there from beating you to it first and the sun's not been out long."

Alex harrumphed, clearly not amused. But she also knew all too well what it was like to live from day to day, not knowing where you were going to rest your head, or if the gnawing in your belly would be assuaged by a bit of food you happened to find some place later. "You're not taking me to the police if I don't cooperate?"

Debbie tried not to let that last part get to her. Hadn't this kid been through enough already? She didn't have the heart to do that, and something told her that Brian didn't, either. She knew him well enough by now - too well - to know that his bark was always a lot worse than his bite, especially once he and Justin had entered into an exclusive, committed relationship. If Brian Kinney could get married, then anything was possible.

"No," she finally assured her. "But if you walk out that door, you might find that the police were a better alternative."

"Can I at least get some coffee here?" the twink groused at her from across the room, interrupting their conversation.

"I said I'm COMING!" Debbie reminded the customer. "One more word and the best part of YOUR waking up will be in your damn lap!"

Alex finally broke into a small smile at that statement as Debbie grinned back at her. "Come on, Kiddo," she prodded her gently now. "Let's go take care of Mr. Personality."

Alex finally nodded at her as she slid out from under the booth's seat and joined her.

Same Time - Britin

Brian paused inside the doorway of Justin's upstairs studio, admiring his husband standing there with his back to him, one hand on his hip as he studied his latest creation. It was a decidedly somber painting - sweeping shades of midnight blue, deep purple, and streaks of white and red, no doubt influenced by the events that had transpired this past year. But as usual, while the painting was quite engrossing, the most intriguing work of art in the room was the more thoughtful one, presently clad in one of his old dress shirts, a pair of white briefs, and matching, white socks. Justin had lately taken to using Brian's old shirts for his painting. Why, when he had plenty of old denim work shirts of his own that he could use, Brian couldn't fathom. But as always he found it incredibly sexy just thinking about his husband wearing one of his shirts while he was away, and this was no exception.

Justin heard the quiet footfalls before he felt Brian's arms slide around to hold him close. He smiled. "I thought you had already left for Harrisburg."

Brian nuzzled his neck as he whispered in his ear, "You keep parading around the house like Tom Cruise, and I may never leave."

Justin shivered a little at the sultry tone in his husband's voice; he sighed in pleasure and arched his neck as Brian's lips proceeded to slide a trail from just below his earlobe down to his collarbone. "You...you have a strategy meeting with Fin this morning...," he struggled to remind him in a choked voice as Brian's hands traveled under the hem of his shirt and up to his nipples to slide his palms against the hardening peaks. Justin could feel his husband's arousal hard and sharp against his ass as he finally managed to turn around to face a pair of dark, smoky-looking eyes boring into his. He linked his hands behind Brian's neck and couldn't resist pulling his face down for a deep, prolonged kiss that lasted for several seconds until he finally broke off to whisper, "I have a painting to work on, Mr. Campaign Manager, and you have a strategy meeting with your father."

Brian groaned in frustration before nodding. "Yeah," he replied in extreme disappointment. Last night with just the two of them had been exactly what both he and Justin had needed. Between Alex, Stockwell, Justin's asshole of a father, Telson, Stewart, and Kip Thomas - not to mention Turner and his eventual demise - it had been one hell of a ride so far. A very hectic ride. Would he have ever agreed to help out with his father's campaign if he had known back then what he knew now? Honestly, he wasn't sure. There had been some good come out of it, though; he had to admit that it had forced him and his father to work together and draw closer as a result. But he couldn't help thinking that there had to be less stressful ways to go about it. "I'd better get going." He stole one additional, quick kiss from Justin and bit down playfully on his lower earlobe. "Don't get too dressed on my account," he whispered in Justin's ear as his husband blushed. "It'll speed things up later if you stay the way you are."

"Well, I thought I'd go into the diner for lunch and see how Alex is doing," he told him. "So perhaps at least a pair of pants might be in order."

"You sure you want to subject yourself to that?"

"No," Justin answered honestly. "But I still feel a little bad about how we sort of dumped her on Debbie. I figure the least I can do is show up and help save her if necessary."

"Which one?" Brian quipped as he turned to go.

Justin grinned. "Good point." He drunk in the enticing sight of his husband, clad in casual business attire for his meeting with Fin and his staff: an open-collared, black satin shirt with subtle, white pinstripes, a pair of crisply pleated black linen pants, and shiny, black leather shoes. As always, his gorgeous husband was dressed impeccably and it took his breath away.

"I'm glad you approve, Sunshine," Brian murmured as Justin's face warmed over being caught. "Later," he said with a raised eyebrow and a smirk as he turned around and quietly departed.

Justin grinned before turning around to resume his painting.

Two Hours Later - Harrisburg

"Brian," Fin called over to his son as he heard the front door of his headquarters opening. "Come and see this!" he added as he waved him over, unable to hide the animation in his voice. Brian walked over and casually looked over his father's shoulder, placing a hand on Fin's collarbone to peer at his laptop that showed the latest results of a poll conducted that morning by one of the most reputable companies in existence; one that was consistently accurate in their projections. "Look!"

Brian scanned the results from the polling company, confirming what one of the other polls had indicated earlier back at Britin: it indicated a present lead of five percentage points over his father's opponent, Dean Whittle. It was a promising sign so close to Election Day, but not a slam dunk. This particular poll had a spread of at least plus or minus three percentage points, so the race was still very close. "Promising," he agreed with a tight smile. "But not definitive enough," he decided as Fin reluctantly agreed with a nod.

"Yeah, I was afraid you were going to say that," he replied ruefully. "But all the other polls show us with a lead, too. It's a hopeful sign at least, don't you think?"

Brian walked around to settle into one of the hard, plastic chairs set up for volunteers, straddling his legs to either side as he reminded those gathered there, "We can't let our guard down now. This is the last week before the election. We need to keep hammering the voters and keep your name out in the public's eye to keep the momentum going."

Fin nodded as he gazed over at his most trusted advisors. "Suggestions for the last big rush before next Tuesday, gentlemen?"

"We've got some print and media ads in USA Today and all the large Pennsylvania papers reserved for the next few days, along with some radio and television spots," Kirk, his speechwriter, informed him. "But without Turner's ineptness in the race anymore to use as a critical marketing strategy, we'll have to take a different angle. Whittle is just too damned vanilla to invoke any real drama." He peered over at Brian, seeming a little uncomfortable as he added, "I'd like to include some excerpts from last night's debate - along with what your son-in-law said to his asshole of a father. That generated a great deal of positive buzz. I'd like to take advantage of our momentum while we're hot and highlight that in the ads."

Fin looked over at his son, noticing his jaw set and his lips pressed tightly together. "I don't know about that," he began, feeling a sense of wrongness about the whole idea.

"But this is a golden opportunity to gain a permanent lead," Kirk insisted as the others glanced over uneasily at father and son, trying to gauge their reaction. "A five-point lead can disappear in a heartbeat. One wrong word - one misunderstood comment or even a hint of scandal of any kind - and our lead goes up in a ball of flame and we're back to a dead heat."

Fin harrumphed softly. "Aren't you being just a little melodramatic here, Kirk?" He twisted slightly around to glance back over at Brian, who had remained oddly silent. His face was unreadable at the moment; that was one of the things he was still trying to learn to do - become familiar enough with his son to figure out what Brian was thinking before he said anything. "Brian? What are your thoughts on this? How would Justin feel about using what happened last night to influence voters who might still be on the fence?"

Brian silently pondered that question. Personally? The idea of taking advantage of his husband's difficulties with his father left a distinct, sour taste in his mouth. Justin had endured enough heartbreak and strife over the years regarding his father and other homophobic bigots to last a lifetime already. And despite the unintentional notoriety that pursued him at times, in reality Justin was a very private person. He didn't like to be in the spotlight, at least not for events such as what occurred last night.

He had to admit, though; there would be a good reason politically speaking to take advantage of it. Justin was a very powerful, effective speaker against just the kind of irrational people that opposed Fin. He was a clear symbol, too, of just how hateful and unreasonable homophobes could be. What Justin said always came from the heart, and from painful, personal experience. That could be an extremely powerful marketing ploy, whether you were selling advertising or trying to elect a candidate who could be considered controversial. But was it worth it?

"Kinney? What about it?" Kirk pressed as Brian turned to peer over at him. In the time they had worked together, he had found the man efficient enough. Not exactly someone he could warm up to, but he did seem devoted to his father and was tenaciously loyal to him and what he stood for. His father could do a lot worse - all they had to do was look at Stewart and how that had turned out. But the man was just a tad too overeager for his taste - and not very tactful, either.

"Well, it would be up to Justin to decide that," he finally told him. "I can't make that decision." He paused for a moment before adding, "But I suspect if he thought it would benefit Fin's campaign and tip the scales in his favor, he would agree to it." Silently, though, Brian wished that weren't true. But Justin always had been strong, and he firmly believed in Fin and the conviction that he was the ideal candidate to be the next governor.

Kirk huffed in irritation. "What are you, some little housewife? You're the campaign manager here, Kinney! Just make a decision and be done with it so we can move on."

The others gasped at Littleton's impertinence as Brian glared over at him. "This isn't some paid actor you're asking to use in a commercial, Littleton; it's my husband! And he has been through more in the last several years than most people experience in a lifetime! So just shut the fuck up. You have NO idea."

Kirk shook his head in disgust as he turned to appeal to his boss. "Fin..."

"Well, I WILL make a decision on his behalf," Fin spoke up firmly as Brian's mouth hung open in surprise. What the hell? Was he going to countermand him?

Fin eyed his speechwriter without blinking. "If exploiting Justin's encounter with his prick of a father last night means the difference between me winning this election or not winning, then I didn't have much leverage to begin with, did I? That wouldn't say much for my campaign - or my service record. Nor would it be much of a testimonial to all the hard work that I've accomplished over the past twenty years in the Senate, would it? So the answer is no. No amount of temporary gain is worth that, nor is subjecting my son-in-law to more intense, unwanted scrutiny. So the idea is off the table permanently as of right now...you got it?"

Kirk silently seethed in resentment as he gave Brian a sideways glance to see if he was smirking at him in triumph; all he could see registered on his face, however, was apparent surprise, along with something else, perhaps. Pride? Appreciation? Respect? Whatever it was, he knew this was a battle that he wasn't going to win. He was unable to resist one last jab, however, as he advised Fin, "Yeah, I got it. I just hope this doesn't doom the election as a result."

Fin huffed in anger. "Kirk, enough!" he sternly admonished him as the other staff members peered over at him in silent support of their candidate, making his face flush over the attention. "Are you with me or not? If you're going to argue the decisions that both I and my son make, then perhaps you need to go back to the office and recuse yourself from my campaign. Is that what you want?"

Kirk pursed his lips tightly together before grudgingly maintaining, "No, I support you, Senator, you know that."

Fin nodded in acknowledgement then, directing his attention back to Brian and the others gathered around him. "Okay, then...let's see what we can come up with for the final push." Brian's eyes locked on his father as he gave him a slight nod of gratitude. Fin quietly placed his right hand on his son's shoulder as he told his staff, "We're going to WIN this campaign."

A few minutes later, the group was deeply engrossed in what would be their last, most important strategy plan.

Liberty Diner - Late Morning

Justin paused just inside the interior of the diner as the bell dinged above him, taking a moment to go back in time to when he was working there. It brought back a few painful moments, certainly, particularly during that awful part of his life when he and Brian were separated, but for the most part the place always engendered warm, happy memories. Even though it had been years now since he had worked there, the place seemed to be stuck in a time warp. Except for a new items on the menu in keeping with the times - sweet potato fries along with the typical, more starchy ones, quiche for breakfast, and some varieties of cupcakes for dessert - pretty much everything else was essentially much the same. The same, glass-topped dome holding the diner's precious lemon bars dusted with confectioner's sugar, the same, battered blackboard advertising the day's "Pink Plate Specials" (although they never HAD been served on 'pink plates,' according to Debbie), and the same, diverse variety of patrons representing all walks of life - businessmen here for lunch, twinks head-over-heels in lust in the corner booth, oblivious to everyone else, mothers with their babies, proudly showing off their latest photos to anyone who would indulge them, and fashion queens with their quirky sense of style. It always felt like home in a way whenever he visited here, and today was no exception.

He smiled over at Danny, the newest cook Deb had recruited fresh out of culinary school. The young man who had just earned his degree from the local career center was still wet behind the ears, but he had an amazing ability to whip up meals in no time and an almost photographic memory that served him well when things were going crazy at the diner. Justin suspected the boy wouldn't stick around too long once he found something better - he was much too talented for this sort of establishment - but for now he helped to maintain a little more sanity around the place, as well as a inject just a little class. Danny nodded over at him and waved as he glanced around the room to see if he could spy Alex. Even in the fairly busy crowd, it didn't take long for him to find her within a few seconds - by hearing, though, not by sight.

"These fries are fucking cold!" he heard a deep voice grousing from the back of the room. He could see Alex standing there next to a big, burly bear with a leather cap on his head and a bristled, bushy beard; there was another skinnier-looking man in similar garb sitting across from him in the booth. "Is it asking too much to have my food HOT by the time it gets here? Or is that too hard for you?" He picked up the plate of fries and dropped it down onto the booth's table in disgust as it hit with a loud clatter. "What a fucking moron!"

Justin lifted an eyebrow curiously as Alex's face smiled back sweetly at the man; that was not the reaction he would have expected from her. He soon found out why, however, as her voice grew increasingly louder as she replied, "No, it's not hard at all. Here; let me show you what HARD is!" And with that, he observed the thin waif of a girl take the black, oval, plastic tray she had clutched in her hand and give the man a firm whack on the top of his head with it.

Justin's eyes widened in disbelief as the man's face turned beet red and his mouth fell open in shock. Even from several feet away, he could see a vein pop out on his neck. "Why, you little bitch!" he roared as Justin broke out of his temporary frozen state to begin hurrying to her defense. He found out that he didn't have to bother, however, as Debbie came rushing over as if out of nowhere to intercede for her before the man had a chance to slide out from the booth.

Rather than shrinking away from him in fear, Alex folded her arms across her chest and glared at him defiantly as Debbie placed her hand on the man's upper arm and pushed against him to hold him in place. "Don't you even think about it, Tank!" she growled like a mother lion defending her cub. "You were being an asshole to her and you know it!" Her breaths came out in short puffs of anger as she forcibly shoved the man back down onto his vinyl seat; everyone's head turned to see what the commotion was all about. "I would have done more than she did if I had served you," she muttered as Justin came up and stood next to her. She turned as her face broke out into a pleased smile. "Why, hello, Sunshine," she greeted Justin affectionately in a completely different tone of voice as he grinned back at her. "Have a seat at the counter, Honey; I'll be right there," she told him as her voice grew hard again, "...after I handle our Customer of the Year here!"

Turning to look at the muscular bear now glaring up at her, she waggled one red-lacquered fingernail at him as she told him, "Now apologize to this girl! Or I'll send you up the street to that greasy spoon you're always complaining about that gives you ulcers!"

"But..."

"You heard me!" she scolded him like he was a little boy. "You know she didn't hurt your thick skill under that cap. Now DO it!"

He rolled his eyes and huffed at her for several seconds before he let out a deep breath. "Sorry," he finally grumbled under his breath.

"Excuse me? I don't think I heard that."

Tank shook his head in disgust. "I said...I'm SORRY! There...Are you happy now, Debbie?"

She smiled at him. "Yeah...delirious," she quipped. "Now keep that lard ass in your seat and I'll go get another batch of fries."

The man nodded at her sheepishly as Debbie turned to peer over at Alex, who had been silently watching the entire drama unfold with a mixture of both surprise and grudging respect. "Go on," she pressed her quietly as she heard the telltale sound of the bell dinging over at the kitchen pass-through. "There's a pick up ready; go take care of it, okay?" She glared down at the now recalcitrant man as she added, "And I'LL take care of THIS one."

Alex stared at her for a few seconds before she nodded and turned to do as Debbie instructed. On the way back from the table where she had just served a diner the pink plate special of a ham on rye and steak fries, she observed Justin now sitting at a stool at the counter and walked over to him. "Just what are YOU doing here, anyway?" she asked him suspiciously. "Checking up on me?"

Justin thought about being sarcastic and just saying he was there because he was hungry and it was a dining establishment, but he figured this streetwise kid would see right through that, so he merely chose to reply with the truth. "Something like that," he admitted. "But I figured Debbie had everything under control." He turned his scuffed, ivory-colored coffee mug over onto a matching saucer and reached for the ever-present coffee pot warming on the burner nearby to pour himself a cup before placing it back down.

"That's stealing, you know," Alex told him pointedly. She scowled in disapproval as Justin began to laugh.

"Since when did YOU get to be so righteous?" he teased her before explaining, "I used to work here. Don't worry, Deb won't mind. She knows to put it on my tab."

The diner's traffic considerably less hectic than before as one of the other waitresses returned from her break, Alex took advantage of the situation to slide onto the seat beside him as she wiped her hands on her apron. Since she had first walked in this morning, she had felt greasy, either from the eggs, the hash browns, the French fries, or the burgers, and she was constantly trying to clean it off. She scrunched up her nose in disbelief. "You used to work here? I would think you were too high-and-mighty for that."

Justin laughed. "High and mighty? Hardly. What do you mean by that?"

"Debbie said..."

"Mrs. Novotny..."

"Debbie, as she told me to call her," Alex advised Justin stiffly, "told me what a hoity-toity artist you are, and how your paintings sell for thousands of dollars. So why would you need to work here? And your husband," she said the word rather disdainfully - Justin wasn't sure if it was a tacit disapproval of their lifestyle or she was just irritated with Brian making her work there - "he certainly dresses up awful fancy. Doesn't look like either one of you are hurting for money."

Justin shook his head and sighed before explaining, "Yes, I've been very fortunate with my career lately; my style of painting seems to be in favor right now, just like styles of furniture come and go. So yes, they sometimes do sell for a lot of money. And Brian always has been the best at what he does." Alex snorted at that comment, but Justin chose to ignore it. "But it wasn't too long ago that I wasn't unlike you."

Alex snickered loudly. "Really...," she replied dryly.

"Yeah...Really. I was more or less kicked out of my house when I was seventeen and had pretty much nowhere to go. If it hadn't been for Debbie taking me in - and Brian for a little while - I would have been out on the streets just like you were."

"Why?" Alex couldn't help asking as she idly played with a straw lying on the counter.

"Because my father found out I was gay," he told her, a catch in his throat. Even now, even after everything, it was still painful. Would it ever be any different, he wondered? "He couldn't accept me for who I was. I was his dirty little secret that was going to bring shame down onto the family, and I refused to keep quiet and hide it." He inhaled a deep breath and let it out before adding, "It wasn't too long after that happened that my parents got divorced. My dad eventually got remarried and pretty much wrote me off as ever being his son; that is, unless he was busy having me arrested outside his store for picketing, or trying to tell a national audience how I was going to burn in hell over my disgusting lifestyle."

Alex listened intently to Justin, her impression of his changing somewhat. Apparently his life hadn't been a bed of roses, either. "At least you had a home until you were almost an adult," she insisted softly as she glanced down at the counter.

"Yeah," Justin agreed as he stared over at how thin and slight she was for a kid her age. He wondered fleetingly what all she had experienced on her own - plus what she must have endured when she was living with two druggie parents. At least his mother and father had never traveled down that road; and he had to admit, up until his father had so callously tossed him aside like the weekly trash, he had had a lot of privileges most children his and Molly's age couldn't imagine. "Alex..." he begun softly. But he never got to finish his thought as Debbie walked up to reach down and hug him tightly from behind.

"I'm so glad to see you, Sunshine!" she exclaimed as she gave him a kiss on the cheek before letting him go and reaching over to wipe some of her lipstick off. "We really didn't get much of a chance to talk last night."

"No..." he agreed with a smile. He was about to ask her how Alex had been doing this morning, but was interrupted once more by Debbie's bellowing voice as she sniffed the air. "Shit! What is burning back there? Danny, what's going on?"

"Danny's on break, Deb," Carlos called back to her from behind the griddle. "I...I sort of left the pot roast in the oven too long."

"Oh, my God!" she growled as shook her head in disgust. "A $12.00 pot roast up in smoke; literally! We'll catch up later, Sunshine," she told Justin who nodded in amusement. "And you," she said, looking at Alex. "Break time's over, kiddo. Come with me - and grab that air freshener under the counter." She shook her head in disbelief. "Shit," she muttered as she scurried toward the kitchen and, flinging the swinging pair of double doors open, rushed inside. Justin watched in surprise as Alex did as Debbie asked a few seconds later without complaint, sliding off the vinyl counter seat next to him before walking around to snag a can of air freshener from underneath the counter on the opposite side.

Alex peered back at him for a few seconds - almost challenging him to tease her about what she was doing or make some snarky comment - before she rushed back toward the kitchen to join Debbie.

Later that Evening at Britin...

"Now this is a moment worthy of the first landing on the moon..."

Justin lifted his gaze to eye Brian curiously from across the dining room table. "Huh?"

Brian nodded his head toward the almost full plate of linguini that his husband had been pushing around with his fork for the past several minutes. "Justin Taylor-Kinney...leaving food on his plate." Brian knew something was definitely wrong when, instead of a tongue-in-cheek 'fuck you,' Justin sighed as he pushed his plate away instead. He frowned.

"What's wrong?" he asked softly. "You've been way too quiet ever since I got home." The fact was, Brian always looked forward to returning to his husband; Justin's almost non-stop chatter about what had happened during the day - along with his incessant questions about how Brian had fared with the latest drama involving his father's campaign - was one of the things that kept him grounded and felt normal; he would even go so far as to say he enjoyed it. "Justin?" he pressed.

"I went to the diner today."

Brian's eyebrows rose in question. "Yeah, I remember you saying you were going to do that. So...You gorged on the Pink Plate Special and now you can't eat one more bite? That never stopped you before," he teased him, rolling his lips under playfully. He didn't get the expected smile in return, however. "What? That bratty kid didn't give you a hard time, did she?"

Justin shook his head. "No. But I DID have a talk with her. Some asshole was harassing her over getting his food delivered cold. Called her a fucking moron, among other things."

Brian winced; there was no love lost between him and Alex, but even to him that was harsh. "Ouch. What happened?"

Justin couldn't help smiling a little in recollection. "She hit him over the head with one of the serving trays, and then the REAL enforcer took over; Debbie came to her rescue and made the man apologize to her."

Brian chuckled. "I'll bet she did." He reached over to grasp Justin's hand. "So what did the two of you talk about?"

"Well, I realized we actually had a few things in common." Brian wisely chose to remain silent as he explained, "All this time she thought I had never had to struggle to get where I am; that everything was handed to me lock, stock, and barrel. Debbie had told her how much some of my paintings have sold for lately. She was surprised to find out that I used to work at the diner, though, after I had nowhere to go - just like her. I told her how Debbie had taken me in, and how I could have been homeless just like she had been if it hadn't been for her - and for you," he added softly. "I think that shocked her."

Brian stroked the hand underneath his as he replied, "I guess it would have. All she's seen is the success you are now; not the courage and perseverance it took for you to get there."

Justin nodded. "Brian..."

"Yeah?"

"I actually felt sorry for her. At least with me - until my father decided that I was a pervert and not worthy of his attention or his love anymore - I had grown up very comfortably. This girl sounds like she's had a rough time practically since the moment she was born. At least my parents didn't spend all their time shooting up drugs or dragging me from place to place when they got thrown out of whatever hell hole they were living in. I have a feeling this girl has seen way too much in the short time she's been on this Earth."

Brian gave Justin's hand a brief squeeze before letting it go. "I imagine she has." He grimaced. "But she has a strange way of showing her gratitude."

Justin nodded. "Maybe. But I remember after the assault, I did something similar."

Brian knitted his eyebrows together. "What are you talking about, Sunshine?"

"You remember when my mom let me come and stay with you after she tried to keep us apart?"

Brian nodded; he remembered it all too well. It had taken him by surprise, too, at the time, over how much it had hurt thinking he might never see Justin again after that. But Jennifer's well-meaning desire to protect her son had been short-lived - and short-sighted. Because as much as Jennifer had hated to admit it at the time, he had been her last, best hope of finding any semblance of what her son used to be. He, alone, had been the only one who could get through to Justin - and the only one that Justin had trusted at the time to bring him back from his despair. The only one that he would even allow to touch him. For just a brief second, Brian pondered how his life would have been vastly different if he HAD followed his mother-in-law's wishes and never seen Justin again. So many things he treasured in his life now would never have happened - and his life would be so much emptier, too...

"Of course I do," he responded softly as Justin nodded.

"Well, you know all about the nightmares when I came to stay with you." When Brian nodded back at him, he explained, "What you probably don't know - unless Mom told you - was that I had the same nightmares at home, too. Even worse than with you. Nightmares so bad that my mom would hear me all the way down the hall and come rushing into my room to try and help me." He sucked in a breath, the episodes still all too vivid even now. He quirked one side of his mouth up ruefully. "Only I didn't want her help. Back then, I felt like my world was over. I couldn't work on my art; I could barely even grasp a brush in my hand. I had all this bottled-up anger and frustration inside. And the only way I knew how to express it was by throwing things and lashing out at anything and anyone that would let me."

Brian reached over to clasp Justin's hand again for support as he told him, "I had one particularly bad nightmare one night. I kept dreaming over and over again that I went downstairs to answer the front door, thinking it was you coming to see me. Only it wasn't you; it was him. And...he had this big, smug grin on his face..." He shuddered at the recollection.

"Justin..."

"It's okay," he answered in response to Brian's voice edged with concern. He gave Brian a reassuring smile as he continued, "After that nightmare, my mom came into the room to make sure I was okay." He paused for a moment. "I repaid her concern by jumping out of bed and throwing everything in sight across the room - my easel, my books, my lamp, my sketchbooks; anything I could get my hands on." He closed his eyes for a second and opened them back up before admitting painfully, "Even her." He took a deep breath. "I could have really hurt her, Brian. I actually shoved her up against the wall so hard in my attempt to get away from her - from that vision in my head - that she stumbled and almost fell. She was so frightened of me at the time that she told Molly, who was standing in the doorway, to go back to her room." He shook his head in disgust. "I can't believe how angry I was then." He exhaled a deep breath, taking comfort in the firm but gentle strength of Brian's hand clasping his. "But maybe I can understand just a little bit now why Alex did what she did. It doesn't justify it - but it might explain it just a little, though. I don't think it had anything to do with her trying to cause trouble for you. I don't think she was thinking of you - or the consequences - at all. I think something triggered what she had bottled up inside and that was the only way she could let it out."

Brian stared over at the beautiful, expressive blue eyes of the man he loved, and wondered, not for the first time, how even now he didn't know everything about him. Kip - and Justin's role in preventing him from suing his ass off - had been a major surprise a few weeks ago. But this was a revelation as well. It seems that Justin understood exactly how Alex had felt after all. And for the first time, Brian began to understand just a little bit about it, too. He squeezed Justin's hand. "You're really something," he told him softly as Justin warmed over the compliment.

"Well, I'm not condoning what she did," he explained as Brian nodded. "She still needs to make amends to you. But...What are we going to do with her, Brian?"

Brian sighed. "I don't know at this point. But I think Debbie's just what she needs right now. If anyone can keep her in line - and find out everything about her, from her shoe size down to her life from the moment of conception - it's her." Justin grinned and nodded as Brian glanced over at his husband's still mainly uneaten dinner. "Not going to eat anymore?" Justin shook his head as Brian let go of his hand and walked around the table to extend his own hand downward. "Let's take our wine to the study, then."

"But..."

"The dishes can wait, Princess," he teased him. "Come on. You're what I need right now."

Justin gazed up at him lovingly as he scooted back from his place at the table and, grabbing his wine goblet, reached to take Brian's hand in his as they walked down the hall and into the study.

A few minutes later, they were lying lengthwise on the couch, Justin's smaller frame nestled in the V of Brian's legs, their twined hands clasped across Justin's chest. Their wine temporarily forgotten on the coffee table nearby, Brian finished up telling Justin what had happened earlier at the strategy meeting.

"I was going to leave the decision up to you," Brian explained softly, his breath warm against Justin's cheek. "But that was when Fin decided for me otherwise."

Justin twisted his head just enough to look into Brian's eyes. "Were you upset by that? That he took that decision out of your control?"

"To be honest? No. I was actually relieved; I didn't feel it was my right to make the choice for you, but at the same time I didn't like the idea of exploiting what happened to you, either." He rubbed his cheek against Justin's, feeling the slightly stubbled skin under his touch as he admitted, "I was fucking proud of Fin standing up to Kirk like he did." He paused for a moment before adding, "He thinks a lot of you, Justin."

Justin's eyes closed as he leaned back against Brian's chest; he always felt so protected and loved in Brian's arms. "I feel the same way," he told him softly. "I think a lot of him, too - and Tony." He let out a deep breath. "This campaign has been one hell of a journey, hasn't it?"

"Yeah," Brian whispered back as he gripped Justin a little tighter; almost as if he were trying to keep him safe from anything the world would throw at them. How he wished he could.

"I'm glad you and your father have become closer, Brian...Are you?" was the whispered question.

Brian thoughtfully rubbed the top of Justin's hands with his fingers before he admitted, "Yeah. I don't think we'll ever be the poster boys for Father and Son of the Year. But yeah, he's a pretty good guy, I guess."

Justin smiled; that was probably as glowing a review as he would get. "Yeah, he and Tony both are." He blew out another breath between his lips and groaned softly.

"Tired?"

In response, Justin snuggled deeper into Brian's embrace. "A little," he admitted. "But I'm good right where I am." And I always will be as long as we're together, he couldn't help thinking.

Brian pulled Justin even closer against him as he murmured, "Me, too." A few minutes later, he could hear Justin's soft pants of breath and his chest rising and falling regularly against his hands, telling him that he had fallen asleep. Smiling wistfully, he just lay there, relishing the silence and the feeling of holding the man he loved in his arms, safe and sound.

Tuesday - Election Day Morning

"Tony...Tony...Come on, wake up." He gave the warm, bare shoulder a slight nudge, but all Fin received was a grunt in return from the mass of blond hair lying face down on the pillow next to him. He shook his head in amusement; Tony always had been the harder one to wake up. "Tony, you're going to be late for work; get that hot little ass out of bed."

In response, Tony blindly reached out to find the thin, Sateen sheet covering him from the torso down and raised it over his head to cover himself fully as Fin chuckled. Well, at least he knew his partner had full command of his senses. Perhaps it was time for him to take command as well. There was more than one way to wake someone up - and reap some of the benefits, also. He reached to pull the slate gray sheet down Tony's body until it was bunched up just below his finely-shaped ass before he trailed the tips of the fingers of his right hand down the middle of Tony's back, admiring the curve of his buttocks as he moved further down to dwell at the cleft just above his ass. Smirking, he firmly but gently clasped both cheeks with his hands, and licking his lips, tentatively poked just the tip of his tongue inside the inviting hole practically winking back at him.

He heard a moan in reaction as, encouraged, he pulled the cheeks apart a little more and then prodded the pucker even further, curling his flattened tongue for effect as he penetrated deeper, inhaling a breath as his nose was assailed with the unique scent of his lover.

"Finnnnnn," was the breathy sigh at last as Tony lifted his head ever so slightly. "Keep going. God, that feels so good...If this is a dream, don't wake me up."

Fin snickered softly. "Well, if it IS a dream, Counselor, it's going to be the best damn one you've ever had," he promised as he began to lick, suck, and nip at the soft, wrinkled flesh.

Tony moaned loudly in appreciation as he clutched the fitted sheet tightly in his fisted hands, feeling his desire building. It always amazed him how quickly Fin could accomplish that, particularly considering he had been in a semi-comatose state when his partner had started. He began to squirm slightly on the bed, trying to gain some friction for his awakening cock as Fin's ministrations sped up in earnest. "Fuck...Fin...Shit..." He soon became a writhing mess, his nerve endings on fire as Fin kept probing deeper and deeper. "Fin...No...Stop; want you inside me," he managed to gasp out, knowing if his partner didn't cease right then and there he would come all over their brand new sheets and feel like some impetuous, out-of-control teenager. "Please..."

He almost cried in relief as Fin stopped his torture and helped to flip him over onto his back; his cock lay hard now, leaking and pulsing against his belly as Fin stared into the bottomless, dark-blue eyes. "I thought that might wake you up," he teased him as Tony glared at him.

"Enough! Will you just hurry up? This is worse than one of your filibusters!" he complained as Fin grinned down at him smugly. Tony's eyes followed Fin's movements as his partner reached over to slide open the nearby nightstand drawer to retrieve a small, plastic tube of self-heating lube. Biting his lip in anticipation, he impatiently waited for Fin to liberally coat his cock with the liquid before he wantonly arched his body upward in a not-so-subtle invitation to proceed.

"I always knew lawyers were impatient," Fin scolded him as he abruptly pinched his partner's left nipple.

"Hey! I didn't start this! I was trying to sleep here!"

"Well, Mr. Hot Shot Attorney, I was trying to do you a favor and wake you up so you wouldn't be late!"

"Aaargh!" was the strangled growl. "What kind of partner do you think I am? I took today off because of your election! Now get on with it, damn it!"

Fin laughed. "My pleasure," he told him, his voice low and throaty. Taking just a few seconds to slather a little more lube over his shaft, he dropped the tube onto the mattress and lined himself up with Tony's hole before, grasping his thighs, he pressed partly inside, hearing an answering hiss from below. He waited just a second before he heard Tony whisper, "Move, Fin," before he pushed all the way in, a hum of appreciation escaping his lips as he marveled at the hot silkiness he found inside. Tony had the most wondrous ass, so tight and deep and perfect, even after all the times they had fucked. He leaned down to pepper some light kisses on Tony's face and neck as his hands held onto his upper arms and he began to plunge in and out in earnest now, Tony's legs coming up to lock around his waist to pull him in closer.

"Fuck, you feel so good," Fin murmured as he picked up his pace, Tony's eyes now wide open and dark-filled with lust as he rose each time to meet Fin's thrusts.

"God, I love you!" Tony called out hoarsely as he felt his body begin the climb to its highest level of pleasure. Fin reached down to begin stroking Tony's cock, squeezing it firmly in time with their bodies' movements, faster and faster, as he felt Tony's anal muscles clenching around him. A few seconds later, he felt his partner shudder under his touch and he climaxed, his come spurting out to generously coat their bodies as he uttered a loud cry of Fin's name. Fin pistoned smoothly in and out a few more times before he, too, exploded inside his partner almost violently, falling down on top of Tony's smaller frame in sweaty exhaustion afterward.

"What a way to wake up," he heard Tony's lips say against his face several seconds later as he laughed, his head nestled in the crook of Tony's neck.

He lifted his head slightly to peer into the mischievous-looking blue eyes and grinned, struggling to regain his breath; Tony could more than keep up with him in the lovemaking department. "Oh, you...you like it now, do you? You were complaining earlier about...about me disturbing your beauty sleep."

"I don't need 'beauty sleep,' Senator," he told him with a sly grin. "I'm already the younger, more beautiful one, remember? I have the beauty, you have the...well, I'm sure there's something I can think of later that you excel in over me."

Fin snorted. "Smart ass. Just remember you just got fucked by the next Governor of Pennsylvania. I imagine no one else has ever had that honor; well, at least a male, anyway," he amended with a smile as Tony smirked. He brushed some damp hair back from his lover's forehead as he reluctantly twisted his body off Tony's to turn onto his side and face him, his elbow propping up his head as he stared over into the paler, sheen-covered face; it was a face that showed a few wrinkles now around the eyes, and his blond hair had a few specks of gray in it now, but he was still the most enchanting man Fin had ever seen.

"Almost Governor," Tony reminded him as he turned his head to return his gaze. He smiled at him tenderly as he reached over to clasp Fin's hand in his and lay them on top of his chest. "But I have no doubt that by the end of the night I will be calling you Governor-Elect O'Connor." He lifted their twined hands to brush his lips across Fin's knuckles. "I'm so fucking proud of you, Fin."

Fin's face dissolved into something tender, his heart openly exposed now. "That works both ways, you know," he told him softly. He let go of Tony's hand to brush the back of his own hand across Tony's cheek before he let out a deep breath. "Since I have a last-minute meeting with Brian and the rest of my campaign staff later this morning - and you got me all sweaty and sticky now," he added as Tony rolled his eyes at him, "I suggest we go take a shower. No sense in wasting water during a drought season."

Tony frowned. "Fin, it's November, and it just snowed the other day. There IS no drought."

Fin grinned as he twisted to rise from the bed, taking one last appreciative look at his partner's naked form. God, he loved it when Tony looked totally debauched and fucked like he did now! He could feel his cock twitching in response as he seemed to look at Tony aghast. "No? You mean all this time we could have been showering apart?"

Tony climbed from the bed, the sheet falling down onto the floor as he walked over to his partner and promptly slapped him on the chest. "No, I don't think so...Senator."

Fin laughed as he pulled Tony flushed against him and kissed him deeply. Pulling back slightly, he gazed into his partner's eyes. "Wouldn't think about it," he whispered softly with a smile. He stole one last kiss from his lover's lips before he slid his arm around Tony's waist. "Come on - time to go get ready to face our public - together."

Tony's face broke out into a radiant smile as he nodded, the two of them walking hand in hand toward the master bedroom.

Thank you as always to my beta as well as to my friend, Boriqua522.:)