Justin sat on the sofa inside the studio. He had been trying to paint ever since he got back from visiting Debbie at the diner, but the events of the last two days had unnerved him. He was also debating whether or not he should tell Brian about this latest gift. His partner hadn't pressed him too much about the chocolates, but telling him about the bracelet would likely set off a firestorm. Brian Kinney in full protective mode was a definite force to be reckoned with.

"Sunshine? Are you downstairs?" He looked up fondly as the subject of his thoughts peered down at him from the loft balcony.

"There's my little artiste," Brian drawled. "Why don't you come up here for a little creative inspiration?" Justin laughed as the brunet smiled, tongue in cheek, and raised his eyebrows in a not-so-subtle invitation.

"I don't know…..I've drawn you so many times. Might need to find my inspiration elsewhere….." The blond had to duck suddenly as a pair of black Armani briefs was lobbed from above. "On second thought, I'll be right up," he answered, taking the steps two at a time.

Brian absentmindedly stroked Justin's blond hair as his partner lay with his head snuggled on Brian's chest, both sated after an exhaustive round of "inspiration." Justin's previous anxiety had given way to a calm, sleepy contentment with his lover's arms encircling him protectively. He knew he needed to discuss with Brian what had occurred today; however, he just couldn't make himself broach the subject while Brian continued to tenderly cradle him. The brunet's loving caresses gradually ceased as Justin heard Brian's breathing even out and he slowly fell into a drowsy state, finally succumbing to a deep slumber. How I love this man, Justin thought, just before he, too, fell into a peaceful sleep.

Justin was feeling much better the next day. His fears from the day before had diminished as he stood inside the art studio, enjoying the bright sunshine that poured through the enormous windows his work space featured, courtesy of the building's previous life as a warehouse. It was one of the aspects of the studio that he particularly loved; it provided him with just the right amount of light to paint with. The artist's strokes were firm and dramatic as he worked on a new creation inspired once again by his partner. He had to smile to himself; despite Justin's protestations to the contrary, it never failed to amaze him how being with Brian could conjure up the most provocative ideas.

When Justin was excited about transferring a dream onto his canvas, it felt almost as if he were in a trance. He, therefore, failed to notice when a young boy on a bicycle stopped in front of the adjacent loft door to drop off a fairly large basket wrapped in navy-colored tissue paper and tied with a large, silver bow. As he was instructed to do, the boy stopped briefly just long enough to press the door buzzer before he hopped back on his bicycle and rode off down the street.

Justin's concentration was broken upon hearing the buzzer. It's not time for the mailman yet, he thought absurdly, realizing the mailman never signaled when he dropped off the mail, anyway. Putting down his paintbrush on the easel gingerly, he walked out into the hallway that separated his studio from he and Brian's living quarters. Opening the entrance door, his felt a cold chill as he noticed another package had been delivered. Unlike the other two occasions, this time he didn't even see who had delivered it. Looking uneasily up and down the street, he did not observe anyone or anything that looked peculiar. He nervously picked up the tissue-wrapped bundle, noticing by the feel that the object was a basket of some type.

Placing it onto a tall, square-shaped table situated by his easel, he carefully removed the large, silver bow off the top of the package and slowly tore away the navy tissue paper. He had surmised correctly that it was a rather flat, rectangular-shaped basket. Studying the contents, he realized the container was filled with approximately two dozen kinds of colored tubes containing art paints of various hues; studying the names, however, he noticed one important difference from the ones he would normally use in his work. All of these paints were scented and described as being edible. He couldn't help rolling his eyes somewhat as he read off some of the names: Cockolate Dream, Vanilla Spice & Vice, Scrumptious Strawberry, Ecru Ecstasy, (Great Balls of) Fire Engine Red, and Yummy Yellow. If he hadn't been so concerned about whom his secret admirer was, he would have found it humorous.

But any thought of smiling at the ridiculous names vanished as he pulled out the small, white envelope tucked inside the basket. Only Justin's name was written on the front. His hands shook slightly as he pulled out the card to read it

I can't wait to rub these paints all over your delicious body and lick them off, one inch at a time. Your secret admirer.

Justin shivered. This was starting to get very personal now. He could almost dismiss the chocolates and bracelet as tokens of admiration, albeit very EXPENSIVE tokens. However, somehow this more intimate, less expensive gift rattled him more. It was as if the person was invading his own protective bubble. It was actually getting sort of creepy.

Carrying the basket and its contents over to the garbage can, he took the top off, turned the container upside down and dumped all of the tubes into the pail. He stomped on the basket to flatten it, throwing it away, also, before replacing the top. He wanted desperately to throw away the card along with it, but thought better of it in case he needed it to somehow help determine the identity of the sender. He placed it alongside the other two cards inside one of his portfolio books on a nearby shelf.

Unfortunately, discarding the contents of this latest gift did nothing to erase the apprehension quickly seeping into him. He remembered the platinum bracelet he still had stuffed in his jacket pocket. What was he supposed to do with that? Throwing it away didn't seem like a suitable solution for something that expensive.

A knock on the door just then made Justin jump. Approaching the entrance, he looked through the peephole and sighed in relief as he opened the door. "Daphne! Am I glad to see you." He looked around furtively as he held the door open for her to enter.

His friend frowned as she followed him upstairs into the loft. "What's with the FBI routine? Are there bank robbers on the loose or something? I thought you said this neighborhood was safe," she said kiddingly.

"I wish that was ALL I had to worry about," Justin grumbled as they both sat down on the couch.

"What in the world is up with you?" She asked her friend, puzzled.

Instead of answering her, Justin walked to the refrigerator and retrieved the expensive box of chocolates. He then reached into the pocket of his jacket hanging on the coat tree nearby and brought both items back to the couch.

"THIS is what's up with me," he said, holding out both items to her for inspection.

"Why, Justin, I didn't know you cared," she teased. "You really know the way to a girl's heart."

"Daph! Listen to me! This bracelet is made of PLATINUM. And the chocolates," he said, opening up the box to show her the contents, "cost $508.00. A POUND," he clarified.

"A POUND? Shit, Justin! Is Brian out of his mind? Besides, I thought he didn't do romance."

"That's just it, Daphne. They're not FROM Brian. And neither is the bracelet OR the paints."

"What paints?"

Justin walked over to the trash and, reaching in, pulled out one of the paint tubes. "THESE paints," he said, handing her the container.

"Cockolet Dream Edible Paint?" She giggled. "Please. You've got to be kidding. No WONDER you threw that shit out." She noticed that despite the ridiculous-sounding name, Justin did not crack a smile. Instead, he sat down next to her and placed his head in his hands.

"What?" She asked gently this time.

"Daphne, you haven't seen the cards. Each time I've had a delivery, I've gotten these personal cards with them. There's no return address, and they're all signed From Your Secret Admirer. It's really starting to creep me out."

"Do you think this guy is dangerous or something? I'm assuming it's a guy? Maybe you should get the police involved." She chewed on her lip thoughtfully. "How does Brian feel about all this? I know how he gets when he thinks some other guy is hitting on you."

"Yeah, I'm guessing it's a guy. I think he's just kind of obsessed. I don't think he really means any harm, though." Somewhat sheepishly, he continued, "Brian knows about the chocolates. But I haven't told him about the bracelet, which was hand-delivered to me at the diner yesterday. And the paints just showed up in a basket on my doorstep earlier today, so even if I wanted to, I wouldn't have had a chance to tell him yet."

"But you're not PLANNING on telling him, are you?" She surmised.

Justin averted his eyes. "I don't know WHAT to do, Daph. It's like you said – you know how Brian gets. He's liable to go ballistic, especially when he reads the cards. They're pretty personal," he admitted, somewhat embarrassed.

Daphne nudged her friend to get his attention. "Justin, you HAVE to tell him. You two have built this new relationship on the promise you would no longer hide anything from each other. This counts as a BIG secret in my book. You HAVE to tell him," she repeated with conviction. She had always been fond of Brian, but her admiration for him had increased especially during the past year when he appeared to be trying so earnestly to make Justin happy. She knew, too, how much her friend loved Brian in return, and how happy he had been these past several months living with him in their new loft.

"I know. You're right," he agreed. He remained silent for a few seconds. Justin sighed, exhaling a soft breath of resignation. "I'm not sure how I'll do it, but I'll tell him tonight," he decided.

Daphne smiled sympathetically. "You're doing the right thing, Justin," she reassured him. "He loves you, and he deserves to know. The two of you will figure it out together." Glancing at the time, she said, "I've got to go. Let me know what happens, okay?"

As Justin walked downstairs with Daphne to the door, he gave her a quick hug. "Thanks, Daph," he smiled. "I appreciate you being my sounding board."

Smiling back in return, she said, "Just remember what I said. NO secrets."

"Cross my heart," Justin answered, drawing an imaginary "X" across his chest as she left. Despite his assurance to Daphne that his secret admirer was harmless, he nonetheless made sure to engage the deadbolt after his friend's departure. Attempting to forget about the events of the past few days, he returned to the studio to try and resume working on his painting while he silently rehearsed what he would say to his partner later tonight.