Thanks to everyone who read and/or reviewed the last chapter, it is much appreciated! To any Frank fans out there (like myself): Things will get better! Eventually, in any case…

Midnight conversations

Joe sat in his brother's brown sofa, staring ahead of himself, gaze blank. Someone who didn't know him might believe he was half asleep. However, a thousand thoughts and emotions were fighting for priority in his overheated mind. He had talked to Frank; he had found him. That much was clear. But other than that, Joe's world was in chaos.

It made some sense, at least, why it had taken him seven years to get to his brother. Frank had explained how he had moved to London and changed his name to get away from all the painful memories Bayport roused in him. Told him how he had studied to become a lawyer, set up his own firm, gotten engaged – gotten engaged! Joe drew a deep breath. He really had a lot to catch up on. As good as it felt to talk to Frank, he still wasn't sure it was real, if Frank was real. Was this stylish lawyer with white collared shirt and Oxford shoes really his brother?

From the front porch a female voice drifted in to him; she sounded upset. Frank had excused himself as soon as knocks were heard on the door. Perhaps this was his fiancé? He hadn't said anything about her, other than the fact that her name was Lucia. When Joe thought about it now, his brother had in fact seemed to dodge that subject when it came up.

A few moments later, Frank was back. His previously pale face had taken on a flustered shade of red. "Joe, I would like you to meet my fiancé." A woman stepped out from behind him. "This is Lucia. Lucia, this is Joe, my brother."

Joe had raised himself to shake the girl's hand, but found himself too shocked to move. She was… she wasn't Callie! Her dark hair lay plastered to her skin, and the red dress left very little to the imagination. She was beautiful, Joe couldn't deny that, but he wouldn't ever have guessed this to be his brother's type of girl!

Chastising himself for his display of shock, Joe plastered one of his trademark smiles to his face and held out his hand for a handshake. Lucia, however, lay a diamond-clad hand loosely in his, clearly expecting a kiss. "It's a pleasure to meet you," he said, obeying.

"I would say I've heard a lot about you, but that would be a blatant lie!" Lucia laughed heartily. "Never heard of you before, Joe. Fun to find you here in the middle of the night."

Although Joe wasn't one to easily be thrown off guard by a woman, he found himself blushing. "You are right, it is indeed very late. I shouldn't detain you any longer." He turned to Frank, half expecting him to object. "I am very glad to have seen you again," he said sincerely.

Frank nodded. "Me too, Joe, me too."

"I should go then." Joe hesitated; was Frank really not going to stop him? "When can we meet again?"

"See, I told you," Lucia interrupted, "if you bring people into our house they won't want to leave it in reasonable time. But whatever!" She threw up her hands in defeat. "Don't mind me, I'll just pretend to be wall décor. That brother of yours can stay the whole month if he so sees fit."

Her stilettos trudged up the stairs aggressively, but Frank grasped her hand, bringing her to a halt. "Sorry darling, this is my fault. Joe will leave." He shot his brother a sharp look. "He didn't mean to cause trouble."

Taken aback by the scene playing out in front of him, Joe nodded. "Yes of course, by all means!"

Lucia tsked. "I told you he can stay, Frank! Stop speaking like it is me who are having an issue."

Frank's shoulder slumped. "I didn't mean that. Sorry. Let's get you to bed, dear." Making a motion to follow her upstairs, Lucia whirled around. "Bloody hell! I told you I don't want your company! Stay with your brother, leave me alone. No, don't argue with me. Just leave." With that, she ran upstairs, leaving Frank and Joe standing in the bottom of the staircase.

Refusing to meet his brother's eyes, Frank picked up both his own and Joe's coat. Without a word, he went for the entrance, knowing Joe would follow closely behind.

Out on the street, the air was deliciously sharp. Joe breathed in deeply, taking in the scent or humid soil and fresh rain. Frank was walking a few steps ahead of him, keeping a pace more resembling a jog than a friendly walk.

"Where are you staying?" he asked, turning to Joe. Before he had a chance to reply, Frank continued. "Lucia have had a bad couple of weeks. Stuff going on. Sometimes she takes her frustration out on people, but it's not her fault, Joe. It really isn't."

Joe nodded, taking in Frank's words. He didn't want to challenge him on this – not now, in any case. He was in no place to do so, having only met her once. In all fairness, it truly was late… And he had never known his brother to be a bad judge of people. But why had she not heard of him? Was Frank so deep in grief he couldn't talk even to his fiancé about what had happened?

"I think you deserve better." The words were out of Joe's mouth before he could stop them. Frank raised a brow. "You don't know her."

"True," Joe admitted, "I don't. But that scene just now… it seemed weird to me."

"Oh did it really, Joe?" Frank quipped. "I think it seemed pretty weird to her having you in her living room in the middle of the night too, completely unannounced. She is my family now, it's her house."

His feelings taking a hold of him, Joe grabbed his brother's arm. "I am your family, Frank! Always have been!"

To his shock, Frank sat up a laughter, shaking Joe's hand off his arm. "I can't say I've noticed these past seven years. Look, I am glad to see you again, but you don't have to set me up against my own fiancé on the first night. You mentioned working as a private investigator, just like we had always dreamed off." Frank raised his eyes to meet Joe's. "Well, you certainly seem to be a pretty lousy one! What detective would use seven damn years to find his own brother?"

For a moment, Joe stood speechless. He had never seen Frank act this way before, and certainly not been on the receiving end! The immense relief that had overpowered him earlier vanished, leaving a black pit in its wake. For a second, he thought he was going to be sick.

"Perhaps it was wrong of me to mention it," he said at last, regaining some semblance of control. "It did take me long to find you, it's true. Maybe I put this off in case it might," he cleared his throat, "disappoint. But as I've come to learn, life is always gonna be full of disappointments, and there is no point in trying to avoid them."

Frank spat out another laughter, eyes darkening. "Well then, little brother, I am sorry my hospitality was such a disappointment to you. At least you've found the wisdom to deal with it since last time we met!" He shook his head. "I would be happy, delighted in fact, to reestablish contact with you. But if your goal is to come here and wretch the life I've spent years building and destroy my relationships, I don't want you in my life. I don't need you! Can't you see that? I've gotten over it!"

Turning on his heels, Frank set off towards his house. His steps left no questions unanswered; quick, steady and determined there was no room for turning back, no place for confusion and hurt to trudge along.

And so, Joe left.

He wasn't sad, he realised, turning the doorknob. Hell, he wasn't even surprised! Making his way through the myriads of dancing bodies, Joe found an empty table by the window. Why shouldn't he? He placed his order, or rather, recited it by heart. Old habits die hard. There was no reason to fight it, though. He was doing no one harm, couldn't do anyone harm, no one would ever know or notice. Frank was over it. That idiot was over it. Joe certainly was too! It wasn't like he was sad or anything. As a matter of fact, he didn't feel a thing. Soon, he hoped, he would. Some pleasurable alcohol-induced physiological tingles, at least, but that was all. He wasn't planning on feeling much more than that, ever again. Hope makes fool of men.

As he waited for the drink, foot bouncing in nervous impatience, his always-attentive eyes followed a pair of shaggy-looking guys make their way inside. For some reason, they stuck out to him. Not only appearance-wise, although they were considerably less stylish than the average guest, but something in their demeanour caught his eye as well. First of all, they weren't drunk; quite unusual for barguests at two am in the night. The way they looked around themselves self-consciously made Joe believe they weren't there for pleasure alone.

A guy sitting at the table opposite his own waved them over. He was tall, dark-haired and quite young; Joe's age or perhaps a year or two older. Unlike the newcomers he was impeccably dressed.

"I've been waiting," was the only greeting he offered. His voice was strong in order to carry over the music.

"Sorry," the smallest of the men answered. "Business kept us waiting."

The other man, standing at an impressive 6 foot 7, laughed out loud. "Right you are. What have you got for us?"

Looking around himself, the well-dressed man lowered his voice. Joe had to strain his ears to pick up the answer. "They put me off the case."

"They what?" the tall man shouted.

"Keep your voice down, for goodness sake! They haven't given me any reason yet. I hope it's merely a coincident, otherwise we're in big trouble."

"You are in big trouble," the shorter man corrected. "Who's appointed new attorney?"

Joe's interest now picked, he dared raise his eyes to get a glimpse of the group. While the two men had their backs turned on him, he noted how pale the third had gotten.

"Why does it matter? If you kill him, they'll just appoint another one."

"Idiot, of course we know that," the large man bellowed. "We will take care of the matter most discreetly, as per usual. Just give us the name, or", he leaned in closer, "rest assured it'll be my great pleasure to slit your throat!"

Joe heard shuffling and a small whimper, before the reply rushed out. "It's Franklin Johnson. But I should warn you; he knows his trade!"

Barely suppressing a gasp, Joe balled his hands into fists. Completely forgetting his supposed indifference to Frank, he vowed to do everything in his power to keep his brother safe. And so, when the two men left the bar, Joe slipped out of his seat too, his untouched drink long forgotten. Catching a glimpse of the figures through the window, Joe waited a moment before following them outside. They seemed to be disappearing down an alleyway, not so far from Frank's home…

Fixing up his keys to keep as a makeshift weapon, Joe went after, body concealed by the dark shadows of night.