Thanks, as always, to the wonderful Boriqua522.

Brian didn't feel like he'd been in hiding out for that long, maybe because a certain young blonde was keeping his attention more than occupied and possibly because he was actually enjoying his time in the middle of nowhere with his surrogate family. Alright, he was nervous about the police and he wouldn't let-up for one second about how important the security of the house was but, as the Justin Taylor kidnapping began to get less and less publicity, Brian began to become more and more optimistic about time after the house. Though, that had brought about problems of its own like what the fuck was he going to do with the kid. He liked to think he'd be able to just push him away and move on with his own life but he was pretty sure by now that he wouldn't be able to go on without Justin annoying him and making him laugh and calling him on his shit and allowing him to open up and say things he'd never told anyone, not even Michael. But at the same time, he was so wrong for Justin. He would hurt him and let him down and he didn't want to put the kid through it. So the slowly approaching day of freedom was beginning to feel like the fast approaching day of hell.

"What's the date?" Justin asked as he idly doodled in his sketch book. His sketches had started appearing all over their bedroom and Justin's old bedroom, which he'd taken to using as a bit of a studio or a storage area for his work. He'd even started painting after he asked Ted to bring some paints back from his and Michael's weekly outing into the real world … or at least to the Big Q.

"13th of December," Brian answered. He was looking at a new bit of equipment that Ted had put together. It was a GPS but had the added advantage of being able to tell you where the nearest speed cameras and police cars were. It was impressive, very impressive.

"Shit," Justin whispered. "Really?"

"Yes, really. Is the thirteenth relevant in some way?"

"No. It's just been exactly three months since we moved into the place."

"Oh."

"Do you miss the outside world?"

"The world, no," Brian answered firmly. "The sane conversation, yes."

"Asshole," Justin muttered but he was grinning as he went back to his drawing. It was a couple of blissful moments of silence before he spoke again, "you know what else the 13th of December means?"

"No," Brian replied trying, and failing, to sound pissed at the interruptions.

"It's twelve days till Christmas."

"So?" Brian frowned, knowing exactly where Justin was wrongly going with this.

"So … shouldn't you have bought me a Partridge in a Pear Tree?"

Brian sighed heavily. "There's two things wrong with that sentence. One, the twelve days of Christmas start after Christmas not before it. And secondly, I'm not your true love."

Justin just smiled a little and under his breath he said, "we'll see."

"What was that?" Brian asked.

"Er … I said, 'where's Emmett'?"

"I don't know," the older man shrugged, "in the conservatory? Why do you want him?"

"I want to know if it's time to open the door on the advent calendar."

"Oh that stupid fucking thing."

"And that reaction is exactly the reason why I want to ask Emmett," Justin laughed, pushing himself to his feet and going off to find the other man.

The so called advent calendar was a bit of a joke. It was something only Emmett and Justin did because only they were actually excited about Christmas day and god knows why because it was just going to be the five of them in this house, just like every single other day for the last three months. There was bound to be an argument and there was bound to be some kind of fire and way too much food and no presents. Just another pointless exercise as far as Brian was concerned. He'd never celebrated Christmas in his life; it was just a chance to spend more time in church when he was a kid and as he'd grown up he'd never really seen a point in it.

"Hey," Michael entered the sitting room and sat down on the large sofa, which Justin had just vacated. Brian wasn't sure if they were doing it on purpose but Justin and Michael were very rarely in the same room at the same time these days.

"Hey."

"Where's the boy wonder?" Michael asked, looking around as though he expected the kid to leap out and attack him.

"He's gone to find Emmett," Brian explained. "They're going to open the calendar."

"Christ, that thing's getting on my nerves."

Brian just raised an eyebrow sceptically. "Why's it getting on your nerves? You have an advent calendar every year at your mom's house."

"Yeah, well that's just to keep Ma happy."

"Bullshit," Brian chuckled, "I watched you last year; trying to guess what picture was going to be behind the door before you opened it, getting to eat the chocolates if you guessed right. It was pathetic."

"You used to play when you were fifteen."

"And I won every single one of the chocolates."

Michael scowled a little, "I still can't believe you bought the same fucking calendar just so you could open the doors early to check what the answer was going to be."

"I still can't believe you didn't figure out I was cheating," Brian countered with a bit of a smirk. "I mean twenty five correct guesses in a row is obviously more than luck, Mikey."

"I was giving you the benefit of the doubt."

"Uh-huh," Brian chuckled in a completely disbelieving tone. "I was a good friend though, I gave you the calendar chocolate on Christmas day."

"Yeah, instead of a present," Michael cried indignantly. Fifteen years had passed but he was still pissed.

"I had no money and my parents hated me," Brian shrugged, "you should have been grateful you even got that."

"I was," Michael admitted sheepishly causing Brian to look up and smile a little.

"I was grateful for your present too," the taller man admitted.

"You said you hated that Captain Astro action figure."

"Christ not that ugly thing. I did hate that," Brian shuddered dramatically. "In fact, I gave it back to you if I remember correctly."

"Yeah, for my birthday," Michael protested but he was laughing a little.

"I'm sure it was what you wanted," Brian said but Michael noticed he was smiling a bit. "But I wasn't talking about that present."

"So what present were you talking about?"

"The fact that you let me stay and have Christmas lunch with your family. There was you and Deb and your uncle Vic and that rich old guy your mom was ripping off at the time."

"Jacob Jacobsen," Michael remembered.

"Yeah, that's the one. And your mom made way too much food and me and you had a competition to see who could eat the most chocolate cake for dessert."

"And you won."

"Naturally, but don't feel bad. It was only because I'd been starved for three days running up to the event," Brian said. "And then, we sat down to watch It's a Wonderful Life and your mom and Vic got all weepy at the end."

"So we cheered them up with a song."

"I don't remember that bit," Brian said abruptly but the way he said it told Michael he did remember it perfectly.

"Sure you do," Michael chuckled. "You sang and we played our guitars. It was the punk version of We Wish You A Merry Christmas."

"No," Brian was shaking his head firmly, "you must have me mistaken with another Brian."

Michael laughed even harder and then sighed. "I guess it's not going to be like that this year."

"I guess not," Brian answered in the same resigned tone.

"This'll be the first Christmas I'll spend away from Ma." He looked at his best friend to gage a reaction but Brian didn't move. "It won't be the same without her." He checked again but still Brian's face was blank. "In fact, I was thinking maybe we could invite her to this house…"

"Don't even think about it," Brian said firmly.

"But Bri…"

"No. We can't risk it. The news crews aren't going to know everything the police have found out about us. For all we know, they might be watching Deb's house … and watching Deb. If they are and she suddenly makes a trip to West Virginia on Christmas day they're going to follow. I'm not risking everyone's safety so that you can have your mom over at Christmas."

"Not risking everyone's safety," Michael scoffed. "It's your fault we're in this fucking mess in the first place. If you hadn't been so desperate to fuck that kid, none of this would have happened."

"Shut up, Mikey," Brian snapped. "It wasn't like that at all and you know it."

"Do I? All I can see is hypocrisy."

"Ooo," Brian mocked condescendingly, "little Mikey's learnt a big word."

"Fuck you Brian! I'm going to ask Ted what he thinks about the idea."

"He'll tell you it's a security risk," Brian called after him as Michael stormed out of the door.

Less than a second after Michael had disappeared, Justin reappeared. "Christ, are you two working on a fucking timer or something? What the fuck do you want?"

"Nothing," Justin said quickly. It was obvious Brian was in a shit mood and he'd learnt it was best not to bother him when he got like this. It would go away soon enough. "I just want my sketchbook."

Justin darted in, grabbed his book and left. No sooner had the door shut, Michael came stomping back in.

"This is getting fucking ridiculous," Brian muttered under his breath before asking a little louder in a condescending sing-song voice, "what did Theodore say?"

"He said it would be a security risk," Michael huffed. "It's not fair. I want to say Merry Christmas to my Ma."

"So phone her," Brian scowled. "Or use webcam. Ted's got one all set up."

Michael seemed to consider that before softening slightly.

"Great," he sulked. "Webcam it is."

::

"Brian's pissed," Justin said coming back into the kitchen and setting down his notepad.

"At you?"

"No … at least I don't think so. I think he's had a row with Michael."

"Those two are getting worse and worse," Emmett sighed, getting out a box of assorted chocolates and a piece of double layered cardboard with a snowman ice skating scene drawn on it. The cardboard had twenty five flaps, behind each of which Justin had draw little icons of Christmas for them to guess at.

"What do you mean?" The kid asked as he quickly located the 13th door on the homemade advent calendar.

"Honey, when I met them, after the event with Georgie, they were as thick as thieves, no pun intended."

Justin just smiled in response.

"But as time went on and the more obvious it became that Brian was never going to reciprocate Michael's feelings, the more they began to grow apart. And," Emmett lowered his voice, "between you and me, I think Michael wishes he could get out of this life."

"Why?"

"Sometimes the thrill of living on the edge is too much for some people. And it's not like he chose it. He's been pushed into it since he was born."

"I thought he and Brian decided to turn to this life after Brian's dad kicked him out."

"No," Emmett smiled. "Michael's mom is the infamous Midnight Mistress."

"Who?"

"The famous Lady of the Night, who used to get paid upfront before stealing everything in the house and leaving. Michael's never known any other life and I think he had some kind of Bonnie and Clyde fantasy about him and Brian." Emmett looked at Justin, "but it looks like Brian's found himself a new Bonnie," he said with a knowing smile and gentle tap to the kid's cheek. "So," he turned his attention to the calendar, "what do you think is going to be behind door number 13?"

"I think I drew an elf," Justin grinned.

"I think you drew a Christmas tree."

Justin opened the door to reveal a tiny sketch of an elf with a hammer in one hand and a toy train in the other.

"You win again," Emmett sighed, holding the box of chocolates up for the younger man to take one. "I think maybe we should have asked Teddy to buy us one from a shop," he sighed. "I didn't think you'd remember what was behind every door."

Justin laughed a little as he popped the chocolate triumphantly into his mouth and said, "I did tell you I have a photographic memory."

::

Brian's mood hadn't really improved by that evening. He and Michael were still barely talking to each other. The case had gone back to the number one spot on the Pittsburgh News channel because one of his past tricks had led the police to his loft. Then Ted had come to him and said that there was a small problem with the security system that meant he was going to have to turn it off for a couple of hours to get it fixed and it was then that Brian had discovered that Justin was missing and that no one seemed to know where he was. Emmett said the last he'd heard, Justin was off to find the Tennis courts with his sketchpad and a pencils but that had been ages ago and there was still no sign of the kid.

Brian sat in the living room, watching his face and his loft flash up on the TV as reporters explained how far the case had come and how this new lead had brought the police optimistically close to catching the gang, which Pennsylvania's media had now dubbed 'The OUTlaws'.

"Although the Police have received no ransom note as yet, Chief Stockwell still has every hope of finding the young man alive."

"I do not see," Stockwell drawled slowly, "any evidence to suggest that the young man, Jason…"

"It's Justin you thick shit," Brian muttered. Every singly fucking time this asshole had talked about the case he'd fucked up the name.

"…is anything other than alive and well. From the evidence gathered so far, we believe the kidnapping was some kind of sick attempt at a rescue which got out of hand."

"Daphne , best friend of Justin Taylor, had this to say:" A girl with big bushy hair appeared on the screen in front of the police department. "I bet it wasn't a kidnapping. It was a more like a … prison break. Justin's parents are totally out to get him because he's gay."

Brian just shook his head. It seemed crazy to him that people still cared about this but Justin Taylor had managed to gain the support of most of Pittsburgh as the country club, sexually confused teenager with a sweet angelic smile, who'd been taken by a gang of queers whilst they robbed his house. The whole of Pittsburgh and most of Pennsylvania were following the story and petitioning for him to come home. Brian just snorted at the idea. If only they knew the truth about how Justin wanted to stay more than Brian or the others wanted him around.

"So," the male anchor in the studio said, "are the OUTlaws evil lawbreakers or the anti-heroes of the gay community? We went down to Liberty Avenue to find out."

"Brian Kinney can kidnap me any day" was the opinion of a hot young guy coming out of the Babylon, whilst his friends laughed and murmured their agreement; "I'd let him do whatever he wanted to me" said one and "he could tie me up and tie me down and I wouldn't be struggling to get home," laughed another.

"It's a disgrace! It's these kind of people who put the gay rights movement back all the time. We're not all like that," was the opinion of some pretentious gay-studies professor at Carnegie Mellon.

"Brian Kinney's the lowest of the low. He's not a hero of gays, he's a criminal and a paedophile. He doesn't deserve respect or even the title of the anti-hero. He deserves our contempt. I hope he's brought to justice soon so that poor boy can get back to his life. If he's got a life to get back," said Howard Bellwether, the so called gay conscious of Pittsburgh.

"So," the anchor finished, "whether you believe this to be a kidnapping based on perversion and sexual gratification or whether you believe it was the OUTlaws attempt to save a young gay man from homophobic parents please keep on the lookout for anything suspicious and ring the hotline number at the bottom of the screen if you have any information." He gave a big cheesy grin as the co-anchor started to talk about further news.

The news team were about half way through a report on 'behind the scenes woes for the Stealers' when a loud crash from the kitchen caught Brian's attention. Painfully aware of the security system being down, he pulled his gun immediately out of his waistband and cocked it carefully, edging silently towards the kitchen. He pulled the partitioning door open and pointed his gun at …

"Emmett?" Brian growled. "What the fuck is going on?" All around the other man were pots and pans. There was a salad bowl on the floor which must have made the clattering noise and food stains all over the counter tops.

"I'm cooking dinner," Emmett shrugged. "Can you point the gun somewhere else … please?"

Brian put the safety back on his gun and replaced it in its usual place. "What's all this mess?"

"I tried to make something called," he consulted his cookbook, "Tequila pasta. But as you can see it's gone a bit wrong."

"A bit?" Brian scorned. "Where the fuck is Justin? Why isn't he cooking?"

"I still haven't seen him," Emmet shrugged.

"This is getting fucking ridiculous!" Brian exploded. "All the security cameras are down at the moment. We're totally blind and he goes wandering off on his own. How fucking stupid is he?"

"Worried about him?" Emmett smiled knowingly.

"Fuck off Honeycutt!" He spat. "And clean up this goddamn mess!"

"Yes sir," Emmett mocked with a bit of a salute but Brian chose to ignore it because he figured it he reacted when he was this wound up, he'd probably kill. The next person who crossed his path was going to get it, he knew that, and of course that particular role could fall to only one person….

::

They were half way through dinner, when a knock at the front door threw them completely.

"It's probably Justin," Emmett said, getting to his feet.

"Not so fast, Emmylou," Brian said immediately, pulling his gun out. "Ted, do we know if anyone other than us five is on the grounds."

"It's highly unlikely, Bri," Ted said confidently. "I checked all the camera's when I got the system back up and running and I couldn't see…"

"Theodore," Brian cut in sharply, "do we know that no one else is on the grounds?"

"No," the older man shook his head.

"Right," Brian nodded, cocking his gun for the second time that day and walking towards the front door. "Emmett, you back me up."

"My gun's upstairs."

"Mikey, give Emmett your gun."

Michael reluctantly handed over his revolver and then got up to watch as the two men crept towards the door. Brian flung it open and pointed his gun right between the eyes of… Justin. Emmett breathed a heavy sigh of relief and handed the gun back to Michael but Brian didn't move, he kept the gun pointed right between the kids eyes.

"What's with the welcome?" Justin asked, smiling a little, though the look in Brian's eyes told him there was nothing to smile about. "Brian?" There was no answer. "Brian, put the gun down." Still no answer, not even a acknowledgment that he'd spoken.

"Brian," Emmett said warily from behind the man. "What are you doing?"

There was silence for a second, Michael, Emmett and Ted all looked at each other in confusion. Even Justin begged them with his eyes to help him but Brian was blocking their way. Justin gulped. Brian looked insane but a calm, collected kind of insane; the dangerous kind.

"Give me one reason," he muttered so that only Justin could hear him, "why I shouldn't put a cap in your skull?"

"Brian," Justin laughed nervously. "Don't be ridiculous, just let me in."

"I'm not being ridiculous," Brian spat. "You knew we had to turn off the cameras today and still you wandered out there on your own!"

"I'm a big boy I can take care of myself."

"Can you?" Brian asked incredulously. "If I pulled this trigger now, would you be able to take care of yourself?"

"I, er…"

"The world's a fucking dangerous place, Justin," Brian growled, finally lowering the gun and emitting a sigh of relief from Emmett and Ted, "and if you're not careful you're gonna end up dead just like your father wanted."

"Brian," Justin gasped in confusion and hurt. He could feel a lump building in his throat. That last jab had really cut him deep.

"Don't cry like some pathetic little fagot!"

"I'm not," Justin lied, as a solitary tear rolled down his cheek.

"Get the fuck in here," Brian barked, taking hold of the kid's shoulder and practically flinging him in through the door. "And from now on you don't leave here without telling at least one of us where you're going. What the fuck were you doing anyway?"

"Drawing this," Justin yelled, crumpled piece of paper at Brian and hitting him square in the chest before running up the stairs in anger and upset.

Brian waited until the stomping footsteps had faded from the stairs and the door to the room Justin was using as storage slammed shut. Then, he turned very calmly to the others, forced a smile and said, "well, I'm starved. Let's eat."

::

Justin decided to sleep in his tiny, dark, single room that night. Or at least he'd intended to but as he heard the faint clicks of the lights being turned off in the other's bedrooms and Ted's soft snoring fill the house he found himself feeling incredibly alone and scared. He tried to turn over and pretend Brian had his arms around him but it didn't work. He moved his pillow and cuddled up to it pretending it was Brian's strong lean body but that didn't work either. And then the owl started twit-tawooing outside his window. It was sat on the tree that covered his view and its orangey eyes were catching the moonlight in the spookiest way. And when something, probably the branches of the trees tapped the glass, Justin realized he couldn't stay in this room any longer. He got up and crept down the corridor towards Brian's room. He wasn't sure if the older man would let him in but he had to try.

He tapped on the door lightly and then opened it. The room was in pitch blackness but Justin could sense that Brian was awake. His breathing wasn't steady enough.

"Hey," he whispered from the door.

"I was wondering how long you'd stick it out in the other room," Brian said slowly, turning over away from the kid. "Though I was expecting it to be at least one night."

Brian didn't flip over and Justin didn't move. They both just remained like statues until eventually Brian spoke.

"Get in," he said. "That half of the bed is yours now. If you want to sleep in it, I'm not going to stop you."

Justin nodded, even though he knew he couldn't be seen. He felt his way carefully over to the bed before getting in, pulling the covers over his shoulders and turning away from Brian. He closed his eyes, reveling in the familiarity of the room, loving how this house had so quickly become his home. He'd never been this comfortable in a place in his life and although, hugging the edge of the bed with his back to Brian wasn't the most idyllic sleeping position, it was better than being alone in the other room. He felt Brian shifting around on the mattress but he didn't really think anything of it, he just assumed Brian couldn't sleep. It wasn't until he heard the creaking of the floorboard in the middle of the room that he realized Brian had actually got out of the bed. Justin leant over and flicked on the bedside lamp. He blinked in the orangey glow that it cast over the room and blinked again as he saw the older man stood in a pair of jeans in the middle of the room, creeping towards the door.

"Where are you going?" Justin asked, digging his knuckles into his eyes as though that would somehow help his tired eyes become accustomed to the offensive light.

"The other room," Brian replied in a low voice. "I know you're only in here because you don't like it in your room. It's not because you want to be anywhere near me and I…" he looked at the floor embarrassedly, "I don't exactly blame you. I'll go down there," he forced a bit of a smile, "leave you in peace."

"Brian," Justin said with a very soft chuckle in his voice. "Don't be ridiculous. Get back into bed."

"But…"

"Brian," Justin warned, his voice developing a bit of an edge but still soft and amused. "Stop being so hard on yourself. Come back here."

Brian stood still for a second, the only sound was Brian's slight wheezy breaths all thanks to his deviated septum. The moment seemed to drag on forever, Brian debating in his own head whether to stay or go? Eventually, he opted to stay and climbing back into the big bed, he muttered,

"you forgive me too easily. I don't deserve it."

Justin flipped over and found that Brian was as far away as it was possible to be in the bed, he was still turned away from the younger man and Justin was left to stare at the perfect muscular tones of his back. It was ridiculous, even his back was perfect.

"You forgive me too," Justin whispered, edging slightly closer to the other man and placing a hand tentatively on his shoulder. He felt him tense a little and then relax. "I'm sorry I scared you today. I should have told you where I was. It's just," he paused for a moment. "It's just I didn't think you'd care."

Brian winced at that, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath before flipping over to look at the younger man. He looked beautiful, all meek and innocent and Brian felt even worse about what he'd done, what he'd said.

"Of course I care," Brian mumbled so quietly it barely sounded like words.

"What was that?" Justin asked, a cheeky glint in his eye.

"I said I care," Brian said more loudly but still refusing to meet the younger man's gaze.

"One more time," Justin giggled and then Brian realized what he was doing and shook his head, smiling fondly.

"Fuck off," he smirked.

"Oh thank god," Justin said with a display of over-the-top relief, taking one of Brian's hands in his own. "There's the grumpy Brian Kinney I know and love. I thought I'd lost you for a second." He kissed the older man's hand, letting his lips linger for far longer than necessary until Brian grabbed the back of his head and brought him in for the real thing.

When they pulled apart, Brian kept their foreheads pressed together.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his breath mingling with Justin's. "I should never have said that to you. I shouldn't have pointed a fucking gun at you."

"It's okay," Justin reassured him, placing a gentle kiss to the other man's lips, "you wouldn't have pulled the trigger." Then he fell back into the mattress and looking up at the swirling patterns of the ceiling.

"I know," Brian almost laughed. He sounded pathetic. He was showing all his cards to the kid, exposing himself more and more but Justin was yet to take advantage and Brian found himself growing to trust the younger man more and more, even though he knew it was stupid. He knew he should never trust anybody but he did. He trusted Michael and Ted and Emmett and now Justin but with Justin it was different. He didn't just trust him with his present, he trusted him with his past and his future. He trusted him with everything and that fucking scared him to death.

"I like your picture," Brian said suddenly, reaching over to his bedside table and pulling open the top drawer, the one for condoms, lube and a gun, but on top of all these essentials was the smoothed out bit of paper that Justin had thrown at Brian earlier. It was a perfect replica of the house. It had taken ages, he was sketching almost the entire time he'd gone 'missing'.

"You do?" Justin beamed at the older man.

"It's exquisite," Brian confirmed.

"Thanks," he grinned, then, he flipped onto his side and traced his fingers over the juts of Brian's ribs. "Anything else in there that's … exquisite?" Justin asked suggestively.

Brian just smiled back and went to get the other items from the drawer.