Chapter 38 – Getting Better

Emmett watched Marc carefully as they walked through the hospital's lobby towards the parking lot exit. The younger man's face was still pale from the dizzy spell he'd had in Brian's room.

"Why don't I go get your car?" Emmett watched Marc lean up against the wall and knew he'd been right. Whatever was affecting Marc was still bothering him.

"Thanks for the offer, Emmett," came the gentle response, "but I didn't bring a car. Marilyn dropped me off. He should be back soon to pick me up."

Emmett leaned against the wall next to Marc to ask curiously. "How did you two meet, anyway? A Canadian hockey player and a Pittsburgh psychic?"

"Do you remember when I told you that I was the seventh son of a seventh son and that my mother kept introducing me to psychics?" At Emmett's nod, Marc continued, "Two of the psychics were Marilyn's parents. Only she was a he back then. He was fifteen and I was eight when we met, but we hit it off. We used to think we were the only sane ones in the asylum." Marc chuckled at some fond memories. "Some psychics or wannabe psychics are kind of unique. Marilyn helped keep me sane for a few summers and we've been friends ever since."

"Do you want me to give her a call, sweetie? If she's going to be really late, we could just call a cab for the two of us."

Marc's mood lightened visibly at the thought of Mysterious Marilyn needing a phone call to arrive at the right time. "She tends to know where she's needed. But just in case," Marc fumbled around in his jacket and pulled out a number, "why don't you give her a call."

Emmett got out his cell phone and grimaced at the display. "Hospitals – they always block the signal. I'll have to go outside." He walked towards the exit, moving out of the way of a handsome man in a long dark coat who entered with a blast of cold air. Emmett paused, staring curiously after the man. His trusty gaydar seemed to be malfunctioning. He just couldn't pick up on the man's preferences. That combined with the stranger's physical beauty to make Emmett bounce softly on his toes and wave at Marc, pointing out the stranger. Marc raised a brow in response, checked out the stranger and responded with a grin and a quick thumbs up. Emmett clapped his hands silently and headed out the door.

The dark-haired man quirked a bright blue eye humorously at the thumbs up and walked over to Marc. "Hi, I was wondering if you could help me?"

"I'd be delighted to," Marc responded with a flirty, little smile. He just couldn't seem to help himself.

A suggestive glint and a lifted brow accompanied the soft response. "I do love a man who is ready, willing and…" A hand came out to grab Marc's hand as another dizzy spell hit the taller man and he started to sink down the wall. "Whoa …not so able. Are you okay?"

"Just a bit dizzy, I should get over it in…" Marc broke off suddenly, staring down at the hand in his in shock as the color returned to his face. "I'll be okay in a minute." His eyes lifted to stare into the bright eyes in front of him, momentarily stunned. "What did you need?"

"Did you happen to see a tall guy, black, leather coat with big ears? Probably with a blond girl?"

"As a matter of fact, I did. Up on the third floor, east wing." Marc watched in bemusement as the stranger rushed to grab the elevator, vanishing with a quick wave as the doors closed.

As Marc turned to look for Emmett, he saw Marilyn come around the corner. The transvestite psychic was dressed in a nineteen forties style dress, black with white lace patterning. Even though her four inch heels and perky little hat made her almost reach the height of Marc's six foot four frame, her slighter build and angular features made her look delicate in comparison.

"Hey, kiddo. Sorry I'm late, the fates didn't allow time for parking problems." Her deep voice contrasted beautifully with her appearance. "How did it go?"

"It wasn't just a gunshot wound."

"Oh, no." Marilyn's arms came around the younger man in a sympathetic, spontaneous hug. "Are you okay? Can I help?" As Marc shook slightly in her arms, she pulled back to look at him. "What was it?"

"Cancer – earliest stages. Not even detectable by testing yet." Marc remembered the sinking sensation when he hit the disease. "I got it all, but it wasn't easy."

"Why aren't you flat on your back?"

"I almost was, but I feel much better now. Trauma wounds are so much simpler to deal with. Brian will have a miraculous recovery from the shooting. I couldn't help but overdo that part of it when I was fixing the cancer. Fixing Justin's problem was so easy compared to this." Marc pulled a deep breath, concerned. "I hate it when I mess up like that. The doctor's will probably notice."

"Maybe, but Brian Kinney won't let them run tests on him like a guinea pig. Don't worry." Marilyn looked thoughtful as she remarked. "I'm not sure why fate feels compelled to step in so often with those two. I keep having to nudge things in the right direction. Although curing cancer is more like an earthquake than a nudge."

"It's a good thing we caught it so early or even I wouldn't have been able to help." Marc looked around the hospital, sensing the legacy of pain in the walls. "Let's get out of here. I hate hospitals."

The two men moved toward the exit just as Emmett came back in. "I see Marilyn found you." He looked her up and down and posed slightly, hand on hip with a limp wrist extended. "That is a fabulous dress, darling."

Marc laughed at the look on Marilyn's face as she took in Emmett's tight plaid pants and tangerine top as she said. "Your outfit is fairly spectacular as well, sugar. I sense an astonishing grasp of fashion." Emmett's face lit up at the compliment.

"Thanks for everything, Emmett." Marc nodded in Marilyn's direction. "I'm staying at Marilyn's so I'll be okay now."

"As long as you're sure, sweetie." Emmett leaned in to give Marc a quick hug. "I'll see you around."

"A little something tells me you could use a ride," Marilyn commented dramatically, with a wave of a long red-tipped nail in Emmett's direction. "Why don't you come along and I'll drop you off?"

Emmett clapped his hands lightly together, "I'd love to and maybe you could tell me all this gorgeous young man's secrets." Marilyn chuckled and leaned in to start speaking quietly to Em as the three men left the hospital.

Justin quietly entered through Brian's door, expecting to find him asleep, only to see his partner resting comfortably checking out the ads in a magazine. "You're looking better."

"I made a spontaneous recovery when everyone cleared out." Brian smirked slightly, "I wonder why?"

"I can't imagine," Justin responded softly as he walked over to Brian's side, kicked off his shoes and crawled easily into the bed with him.

"When are you headed to Chicago?"

"Tomorrow. It's a one day trip. I should be back in Pittsburgh tomorrow night. Jared's planning to go back to New York from Chicago." Justin leaned into Brian's good shoulder comfortably. "Did Axe find anything out?"

"They confirmed it was Stockwell." Brian's tone deepened, "When I fuck up, I really do it well, don't I, bringing that demented bastard into our lives?"

"It's not your fault the guy's gone psycho, Brian." Justin's eyes flashed with anger. "He was the chief of police. Homophobic you could have seen coming, but that he'd turn into a mad bomber?" Justin snorted in disbelief at the thought. "I don't think even Brian-fucking-Kinney could have foreseen that one."

Justin focused on Brian's hazel eyes, seeing the guilt and decided that it was time for a change of subject. "Why did I go to Kinnetik today? There was nothing urgent that needed signing. Ted could have brought it all here. You and I both know that I am not remotely qualified to run Kinnetik. I'm an artist, not a businessman."

Brian shifted slightly on the bed before asking seriously. "How was the work from the art department?"

"Not as good as I remember it," Justin's eyes widened as the realization hit. "You could have warned me what to look for."

"I didn't get a chance to ask you before I was shot. I'm impressed, though. I didn't expect you to solve the problem in less than an hour." Brian sighed with frustration, "They haven't been as creative lately but I couldn't figure out why. My art director quit two months ago and I couldn't get a fucking straight answer out of anyone about the two new guys."

"You didn't know about your New York art director's penchant for stealing credit for other people's work? Didn't he seem too good to be true?"

"I hired the guy because of his rep. I expected him to be good. I would have figured it out eventually but sooner is better. You look like such a naïve little innocent. I knew you could bat those baby blues at them and get them talking." Brian thought of the scene that must have played out at Kinnetik. "I wish I'd seen you cut him off at the dick."

Justin laughed at the memory. "I thought he was going to swallow his own tongue, his jaw was working so fast. I shocked Ted – he still thinks I'm a seventeen-year-old twink."

"Don't be so sure. Ted knew about the problems in the art department. He's the one who took you back to Kinnetik, not me." Brian paused, "He was probably just stunned at the speed you figured it out. Of course, Theodore frequently looks stunned."

"Why didn't you delegate signing authority to him ages ago?" Justin demanded with an abrupt change of topic. "I know you trust him."

Brian grinned, "I would have said yes if he'd asked nicely, but he never grew the balls to ask. I always knew he wasn't quite man enough."

Justin gave Brian a little elbow in the side at the insult to Ted and immediately looked horrified at what he did. "Shit. I forgot. Did that hurt?"

"Not even a little. I feel like I could check out of this place, take you home and fuck you right now." Brian glanced down suggestively at the tenting in his bedsheets. "Last time I protected you I got a hero reward. I wonder what I could possibly get this time?"

Justin took in the suggestively quirked eyebrow and grinned in response. "How about a wall plaque with the bullet mounted on it?"

Brian shuddered at the thought. "No. I don't need a trophy to prove my super-powers. You'll need to come up with a better idea."

Justin's hand moved under the covers and started stroking Brian gently. "We could get Debbie to throw you a party."

"Christ, Justin. You want to make me so sick I can't recover? Talking about Debbie while you're playing with my stiffy could do it."

"Sorry." Justin giggled softly as he felt the stiffy in question get a little less stiff. "Really sorry. I know," he murmured suggestively. "Do you remember when you asked me to go to Meathook with you dressed up as your toy?"

"Of course I do. I think it's the only time you've said no to anything involving you and me fucking."

Justin grinned as he felt Brian getting harder at the thought. "I found a club in New York. I'll go there with you."

"You went looking?"

"Yeah. New York's a big place. There's lots to do there I wouldn't do in Pittsburgh." Justin glanced up to see Brian's eyes darkening with lust. "Of course, there's lots of things I'd do in Pittsburgh that most wouldn't." He licked his lips in anticipation, moved Brian's sheets and clothes out of the way and lowered his head, murmuring. "Why don't we start phase one of your reward right now. You just have to lay back and take it."

Brian arched his back off the bed at the feel of lips surrounding as Justin proved, yet again, that he could provide the hottest blowjobs known to man. "I should get shot more often."

"Do not joke about that."

Across town, Emmett pranced into Kinnetik's office and asked the receptionist for Cynthia. He made his way to the corner offices and smiled at the sight of the attractive blonde executive. "Cynthia, thanks for setting up the flights. I've never gone first class on someone's ticket before."

"And you'll never do so again if you tell Brian what I did," Cynthia responded with a conspiratorial grin.

"I know the first class was for Lindsay and Gus, but I still appreciated it, sweetie. But I've got a little problem for you to solve."

"What's wrong, Emmett?"

"I'm staying with Blake and Teddy, so I'm happy, but Lindsay is not looking so happy at her parent's house. I'm not sure exactly what those 'oh, aren't we perfect' people are saying to her, but I think we need to get her out of there."

"What about staying at Deb's?"

"Debbie turned one of her bedrooms into a sewing room. That just leaves my old room and it's not big enough for Lindsay and Gus. Mel's also in and out all the time because of JR. She's pressuring Lindsay to stay in Pittsburgh."

"Well, we do have a corporate suite for out of town clients. It's not in use at the moment. I'll give Lindsay a call and offer it to her." Cynthia smiled at the tall man in front of her, "Thanks for pointing it out, Emmett. Brian wants Gus in New York and I know he hates it when Lindsay isn't happy."

"You haven't met her parents. I have. They remind me of my Aunt Clora. That woman would spread misery simply by looking at you." Emmett shuddered, "All those, 'surely you could behave correctly if you tried,' looks. Now, my Aunt Lula taught me that life's too short to worry about being perfect. It's more important to worry about living. She was my favorite." Emmett leaned in and air-kissed Cynthia's cheek. "Well, thanks for taking care of us all. It's definitely above and beyond."

Emmett exited the office with a little wave, but paused at the sight of Gareth pounding away at his computer in the outer office. He wandered over; keenly interested in getting the handsome younger man's attention, but Gareth appeared lost in a world all his own. Emmett's gaze sharpened as he took in the computer monitor. Several windows were open to a wide variety of subjects. Some bank accounts, an encryption warning and most significantly, what appeared to be a police log on the shooting. As he read that they had caught Brian's shooter, Emmett gave a little gasp.

At the sound behind him, Gareth hit a single key and the screen contents vanished, replaced by a standard desktop. Gareth whirled and pinned Emmett with a hard gaze. After a moment of stunned silence, Gareth took a calming breath and gave Emmett a slight smile. "Something I can do for you, Emmett?"

"I was…" Emmett swallowed before continuing. He stared into grey eyes, but not a simple grey. These eyes had flecks of blue in them like the sky on a cloudy day. There had been something in Gareth's look that had given him a gut-level shock. Pulling himself together, Emmett took his courage into his hands. "I was wondering if you wanted to go dancing on Thursday night."

Gareth's face broke into a grin, making him suddenly look younger. "I'd love to."

Emmett smiled back, "I'll meet you at Babylon at ten." As he exited the office, Emmett couldn't help wondering just what he was getting into.

Later that evening, Justin hung up the phone with a smile. Daphne had been her usual acerbically funny self. Their shared delight at the capture of Jeremy Lofts had left him with a feeling of effervescent happiness, as if the world's colors had brightened momentarily in celebration. He glanced out the window at a night where the lights of Pittsburgh sparkled, casting yellow and orange corona, catching his mood perfectly.

Not able to help himself, he laughed out loud and looked at the blank canvas in front of him. It didn't matter that he had no black left and only a little red. Those weren't the right colors anyway. He turned on the radio to hear a rendition of "It's a Wonderful World". Chuckling at the appropriateness of the selection, Justin picked up his palette and brush and started to paint, a splash of yellow to capture his mood.