Better Friends and Lovers

Chapter 28

(Setting: Pittsburgh; Mid-August; Liberty Diner; POV/Brian)

"Why did we have to meet here for lunch? Is this all part of a plot to see how far John can be pushed before he loses his temper? If so, I'm all for that, but couldn't we have done it someplace gay with better food?" Danny slumped down next to me.

"What is that supposed to mean, wise ass? What's wrong with the food here?" Debbie stood just behind Danny, arms akimbo, eyes flashing, gum popping. He bit his lip and looked to me for help. I grinned and left him to his own devices. He should know by now that Debbie always shows up when you least want her to. Danny decided to sacrifice John.

"Nothing as far as I'm concerned Deb, but we're meeting one of my older brothers for lunch, the lawyer one, and he tends to frequent only the most expensive places. You know lawyers, they have to have everything fancy. Me, I love the diner, but I also was questioning Brian's judgment in coming here because John's as straight as they come, too, besides being kind of snobby so..."

Just then, Danny's "as straight as they come" brother came in with our very own "as queer as they come" Emmett. Of course, the two of them were laughing over something and looked like best friends. John's usually stern features appeared much more approachable and even better looking when he laughed, and with his suit jacket over his shoulder and his hair windblown, he looked closer to Danny's age than the almost forty that he really was. Quite a few heads turned as he strolled in on those mile long legs of his, Emmett tugging him toward our booth in the back with his hand on a well muscled arm, the rolled up sleeves showing nicely defined biceps. Danny was toast.

"Hey, did you two order yet? I'm starved. May I have the double cheeseburger special with curly fries? Hunter told me they're really good here." John gave Debbie a killer smile, while Danny buried his head in my shoulder and groaned. I couldn't help laughing as Debbie smacked him in the shoulder with her pad; at least she remembered not to hit his head.

"What did we miss? Is Danny in trouble yet again?" Emmett asked brightly. "Does he need to change his clothes for you or something, Deb? Before you abuse him anymore, let me introduce you to John, his better-behaved brother and legal counsel. John, this is Debbie, surrogate mother to all the lost boys of Liberty Avenue and the only person I've ever found who's immune to your brother's charms."

Hearing that, John gave Debbie an even more devastating smile. I thought her knees would buckle as she just stared at him, open-mouthed. Danny hadn't been kidding when he told Cynthia and Daphne once that John was the "good looking one," it was just rare that the man made the effort to work it as he was doing right now. In fact, I noticed that he was turning more than a few heads at the near-by tables. I shot off a few glares to get their attention directed back to their own business, where it belonged. Emmett saw what I was doing and gave me one of his knowing smirks. I refrained from rolling my eyes. He probably thought I was jealous, but he had no clue how annoying it was being drooled at the whole time you were trying to eat. But then, I thought with a grin, how could he? I turned my attention back to John's wooing of Debbie.

"I've been longing for years to meet the woman sensible enough not to fawn over the brat here, so it's a real pleasure to meet you, Debbie. I believe I saw you working at the Benefit, but we didn't get the chance to meet properly then. If he gives you any trouble, ever, you just tell me and I'll take care of him for you, okay?"

"Uh, okay, sure." Debbie stammered. "So, did I head you say you know my grandson, Hunter?"

"Yes, he's a great boy. He and my son Johnny are friends. They met working on the Benefit and have been working on music together ever since. But," John gave her another smile, smoothly blocking her interrogation over how someone who looked as young as he did could have a son old enough to be friends with Hunter, damn the woman is like an open book to me after all these years, which was a scary thought, "would it be rude of me if I asked that we talk more later and I get some food now? I'm really hungry and I must get some business conducted with these two before heading back to the office."

"Oh, of course, I'm sorry! That was the cheeseburger deluxe special, coming right up. Emmett, what would you like sweetie? I know these two don't want any real food so no sense asking. The cook has Brian's order memorized and curly locks here probably just wants lettuce, no dressing."

"Some broiled chicken on top of that lettuce would be nice," Danny said meekly.

"Some people always have to have special treatment," John sighed. "Lettuce and chicken? Next you'll be wanting carrots."

Danny looked wistful so I took pity on him. "Hey, Deb, that sounds good actually, could I have a bunch of raw carrots? Just peeled, and washed would be good, hold the E Coli, please?"

"Please? From Sir Kinney? This is my lucky day! You don't fool me, Brian. There's only one thing longer than it's wide that you put in that mouth of yours, but if you want to treat your boyfriend, I guess I can spring for a few carrots, hold the shit. A certain person is looking repentant enough. Bad mouthing your brother like that, though, saying he's snobby when nobody could be nicer, you should be ashamed, Danny O'Keefe."

"I am, Debbie, I am. And he likes his burgers rare. Feel free to keep the E Coli in his, he has a cast iron stomach." Danny gave his sweetest smile, to no discernable reaction from Debbie, although Emmett and I were amused.

Debbie looked at John for confirmation of the instruction before leaving the table. Emmett and I cracked up laughing as John looked at Danny dryly.

"So, baby brother, what was that all about? I'm a snob?"

"Well, yeah, you are. But it's part of your charm, so don't worry about it. But that's beside the point. I was questioning Brian why we were meeting here. I mean, look around, John, the clientele look like they'd like you to be the special of the day!"

John casually surveyed the room, on the pretext of looking at the chalkboard that held the specials. Pretty much every man in the place was checking him out and he was obviously the topic of conversation at most of the tables and booths. A frown descended over his face.

"Do you get this all the time?"

"Not any more. They're used to me. When I first started coming here, yeah. But, I'm not a giant like you. Brian still gets it when he walks in and he's been a fixture here forever. And when Daphne brings Jamie here, well, let's just say Hunter has to get the mop out to clean up the drool." Danny gave his brother a big grin.

"You know, it's no wonder people want to smack you all the time." I commented. Danny turned his smile in my direction, deepening his dimples. I added for John's benefit, "Danny still gets his share of looks, but he's known to be with me, which makes these losers tone it down, plus he tends to give off 'not interested' vibes. They've never seen you before, and your looks, combined with your resemblance to Danny, are natural attention grabbers. And before you ask, no, you don't come across as gay, but you came in with Emmett, the queerest of the queer, so you're an enigma, and that makes for fun lunchtime gossip. It'll settle down soon enough, once everyone's gaydar tells them you're straight, which it will soon enough, if Emmett ever stops hanging on you."

"I wasn't hanging on him, I was just safely shepherding him to our booth, as any good friend would!" Emmett protested.

"Told you we should have gone to O'Keefe's for lunch," Danny grumbled.

"Yeah, and there we'd have had all of Dad's old buddies staring at Emmett, not to mention you with Brian, so there would have been just as much staring and gossip," John pointed out, picking up his water glass and examining it, then, with a shrug, taking a sip from it. "This place is fine. I need to get back to Lane's people about that movie part so Brian can finish the advertising. Which means you need to make up your mind about that and the Pennsylvania Ballet offer, so let's start talking...."

"What Pennsylvania Ballet offer?" I looked at Danny. Debbie was bringing back the lunch plates so we waited until she served everything to pick up the conversation again.

"Okay, spill, what offer from the Ballet?" I managed to keep my face blank.

"Didn't I talk to you about that?" Danny was looking down at his plate. It held half a head of iceberg lettuce with a tiny piece of boiled chicken stuck on top. He sighed and reached for one of the carrot sticks. I sighed and pushed my plate toward him. Cynthia would get me something later if I got hungry. Danny had burned a hell of a lot more calories than I had already today, not even counting the ones we burned together.

"Here, have half my sandwich. I don't know why you don't just order a turkey sandwich in the first place. You know she isn't going to bring you a decent salad. She just doesn't get why you want to diet so this is her silent protest. She thinks you're too skinny."

"So she starves me more?" Danny raised an eyebrow, amused.

John frowned. "Why won't she bring Danny a decent salad? This is a fucking diner, isn't it?" He took a big bite of his burger. Damn, it looked good. Sometimes I wished I could just let go and eat like that. The price of being beautiful forever...never getting to let go and eat whatever the fuck you wanted. Of course, it helped that John had a naturally fast metabolism; he was one of those people who ate like a horse and never gained an ounce. He also worked out like a fiend, but Danny claimed he did that just to work off the stress of his job, so as a consequence he had to eat even more. At the moment, he was looking at his younger brother's plate with undisguised distaste as Danny tried to explain Debbie's capricious interpretations of his food orders.

"I think it's because I don't like lemon bars. Although for a while she would feed me what I ordered, or better, but that was back when she felt sorry for me over Brian being an ass. My status here is very complicated." He dodged my attempt to smack him.

"Well, you need to eat more than that for lunch. You ran and danced this morning and have karate at the Center this afternoon. Keep your sandwich, Brian. Excuse me, Debbie?" John called Deb back over. I noticed that for him, she came over immediately. Of course.

"Is everything okay with your burger, hon?"

"It's excellent. Thank you. But I have to take advantage of big brother prerogative and make Danny eat more. Is that all he orders when he's here?" John gave Debbie his best concerned brother look, which of course, being Debbie and the quintessential Italian mother, she fell for it, although not without some trace guilt on her face.

"Well, you know these fags, always worried about their weight. He won't order a good burger like you, he just wants a salad." I pinched Danny's thigh to stop him from protesting that he did try getting a decent salad on more than one occasion; better to let John fight this battle.

"Well, he's always been a fussy eater, was a preemie you know, and a burger probably wouldn't settle well on his stomach, what with the dancing and all that jumping around he does in the afternoons." I had to pinch Danny again to keep him from laughing. John really was piling it on thick, although in all honesty, everything he said was true, Danny really did have a fussy appetite and he had been a premature baby, which extraneous fact made Debbie all sappy faced, despite the fact that said preemie was now six feet tall and had muscles of steel. No wonder the guy was such a successful lawyer; he really knew how to press the right buttons. It was a lot like advertising. You piled on as much bullshit as you thought your market could swallow.

"Do you think your cook could make him some kind of big salad, with tomatoes, and cucumbers, arugula and romaine, maybe, instead of that iceberg, and stick some other fresh vegetables in it, plus some turkey and cheeses? Eggs too. Charge him whatever, but get some protein in him. And bring some olive oil and vinegar and a little garlic, maybe we can get him to put some fat on it, you know, some good Italian dressing..."

"Now you're talking, an antipasto, a chef's salad, with homemade Italian dressing!" Debbie beamed at him. Danny and Emmett were both looking at John in some amazement. To tell the truth, I was a bit surprised he could describe a decent salad in such detail. Arugula, for fuck's sake?

"That's the deal, but make sure the dressing's on the side...could that be done? I'd hate to have him passing out this afternoon at his karate class due to lack of food. A bread basket might be good too, get some carbs in him."

"You're a good brother, John. He's lucky to have you. Why don't you two look out for the kid like this one does?" Debbie glared at Emmett and me. "And you! You're eating dessert today, understand?" She pointed her finger at Danny.

"Yes, ma'am."

Debbie smiled at him suddenly. "I just happen to have chocolate cake made fresh today."

Danny leaned up from his seat and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "I do love you, Mrs. Novotny."

"Get on, you're full of it. Will that be cake for all of you when you're ready for it?"

"Not me," John said with a sly grin. "I want some of those lemon bars."

Debbie laughed as she walked back to the kitchen to give the order for Danny's new salad.

"I can't believe you won over Debbie so easily. Months of effort and she barely tolerates me." Danny complained, looking at his brother with a rueful smile.

"Believe it or not, little one, some women do prefer straight men." None of us could help laughing at that. John looked at us, one eyebrow cocked up questioningly.

Emmett did the honors. "That may be true, John, but I would have bet my last pair of pink spandex pants that Debbie wasn't one of them. She's Pittsburgh's biggest fairy princess. I do believe, however, that you've managed to charm her more than most straight guys could...you are sure you're straight, aren't you?" Em leaned a little closer. "That was quite a salad you described. I couldn't have done better myself."

John just gave Emmett that hundred-yard stare of his and Em slid back away on the seat, until his ass was almost off the edge. Danny shook his head.

"I keep warning you, Em, one of these days, I'm going to be scraping you off the floor. Though if the old man there doesn't quit with the 'baby brother' and 'little one' comments I may have to venture into that disgusting bathroom and write his phone number on each of the stalls. For a good time, call...."

"I get any phone calls like that, baby brother, and you'll be servicing the callers. But," John added with a smile before Danny could escalate the spat, "message received. As for the salad, you eat in enough upscale restaurants and read enough menus, you should be able to describe a salad without much problem. And, besides, I don't think Debbie dislikes you, Danny, you're just so spoiled, you think anyone who doesn't fawn over you, hates you. She made you chocolate cake, didn't she? She may just have been being protective of Brian in the beginning, finding out if your intentions were honorable. You have that love 'em and leave 'em look to you, the notorious Dark Angel that you are."

John was surprisingly insightful sometimes. Danny raised his eyebrow as Emmett replied, "well, now that you mention it, John, that was kind of it, although it wasn't mainly Brian she was being protective of, although she does love the asshole, as she fondly calls him. Debbie felt the need to protect Brian's former beau, Justin, from what she saw as Danny's poaching. It took a lot before she realized that her efforts were misplaced."

I decided this was enough discussion of my personal business, as opposed to the business that John was ostensibly here to discuss with us.

"If you're done rehashing old history, and even if you're not, could we please get back to business matters, since that is, supposedly, why we're here. And what is this ballet offer that you didn't tell me about and why does it affect the movie part?"

Danny had a mouth full of carrots so John, after a glance at him, answered instead. "The Pennsylvania Ballet is interested in producing Danny's piece from the benefit, 'Light and Dark' next summer. They've invited Danny to work with their Artistic Director, and both perform and direct it, with the dance serving as the centerpiece of a longer program. The entire program is to be choreographed by Danny and performed by the troupe, with him as one of the lead dancers. They want it added to their regular season's performances after its premiere engagement."

I stared at Danny. "Danny, that is fucking amazing, congratulations!" I pulled him into a hug.

"You're happy for me?" he whispered.

"Of course I'm happy for you! This is the kind of opportunity you've been dreaming of, why wouldn't I be thrilled? A company with the national reputation of the Pennsylvania Ballet, you'll get to work with Roy Kaiser, and..."

And he'd have to live in Philadelphia for several months. It struck me like the proverbial ton of bricks why Danny hadn't yet said yes, and maybe why telling me had slipped his mind. Damn, it was like reliving a nightmare.

"Brian, I'm not Justin." The deep voice spoke quietly in my ear as strong arms pulled me more closely into the hug that hadn't ended yet. I tried pulling away but he wouldn't let me. "I was going to talk to you about it after John went over the contract and checked out all the possible loopholes, to see if it was as good as it seemed. I'm not all that great at contract reading. I planned on discussing it with you at length, privately, not in this fucking diner. I thought John was just going over the movie deal today, which I still have questions about. As far as the ballet, my commuting to Philadelphia for awhile or living there for part of six months would kind of involve you, wouldn't it?"

Danny pulled back slightly so I could see his face and this time he was the one looking insecure and tense.

"Yeah, I guess it would. So, we'll work it out together." I forced myself to relax. Danny wasn't leaving for good and if he went away to work, we'd still be together. At my words, his smile came back. His expression was almost shy as he talked about the offer a little.

"It really would be exactly what I'd love to do, directing a troupe like that, on one of my own works. I think commuting would work for the most part. Briana starts school this fall, and I don't want to have her start kindergarten in one place and then move her half way through the school year. The flight is only a little over an hour, which isn't much worse than commuting into the city from a place in one of the suburbs there. Doing the movie too, however, and being away for several weeks this fall, would be too much, I think, unless they give me the shooting schedule I want. John was going to try talking to them since Vince was no use at all. He just wants me to do it, period, and I don't know that a small part in one of Etienne's movies is worth disrupting my life for. But as far as the dancing, once John checks over things like creative control, ownership of the new works they want me to work on, then I can start thinking about whether it would work with my life."

John was looking at Danny with a good deal of surprised concern.

"What do you mean, then you'll see if it will work? Damn it, Danny, this has been your dream since you had to give up Juilliard! You make it work! We'll help with Briana, you know we will and kids are adaptable. It's only kindergarten, for fuck's sake, how important is it where she learns to color? She doesn't turn five until late next month, I really think you're pushing it, starting her in kindergarten already anyway; you could wait until next year. Just because you started at four doesn't mean she can. I hope you aren't thinking of giving this up or running yourself ragged flying back and forth every day between Philadelphia and here in order to suit her school schedule. Because that's just..."

"Not open for discussion right now," Danny said firmly, looking John in the eyes. Just then Debbie came back with a huge salad for Danny, topped with a mix of turkey, chicken and cheeses. It actually looked half decent.

"I mixed the dressing up myself, Grandma Grassi's secret recipe. And I left it on the side for your highness," she announced, placing a carafe next to the heaping platter that she set in front of him. She stood back, waiting for his reaction.

"Debbie, this... this is...I'm speechless. I'm starved. May I eat it and then worship at your feet?" Danny gave her his biggest, double sided dimpled smile, complete with batting those long lashes at her.

"Finally, something the boy will eat. Go ahead, but I will want that worshiping at my feet thing later, so don't you forget." Danny laughed and picked up his fork.

"Hey Deb, how come when I was twenty-eight, you acted like I was getting old, but him you treat like a kid?" I tried to look aggrieved. She just smacked me. Figures.

"Because you were an asshole, and with the kind of living you did, you were old before your time, you just didn't look it. This one is a baby by comparison." John snorted but quickly hid it as a cough when Debbie looked over at him suspiciously.

"Hey, Jack, is that you? Jackie O'Keefe?"

Mysterious Marilyn came over to the table, dressed in semi-normal clothes, which for her, meant the number of bangles and scarves were about equal to Debbie on a normal evening out. The two "women" eyed each other, taking in the particulars of each other's make-up and wigs. Danny started to snicker and I did have to pinch him, on the thigh and hard, to stop him from losing it. John was staring hard at Liberty's resident "psychic" while Emmett was pulling a chair over so she could sit at the end of the booth. Danny had obviously been right; eating here for a business lunch had been a bad idea. Marilyn asked Debbie for some coffee then turned to smile at John, who still looked at a loss to place her.

"I can't believe we shared a locker for two years and you don't remember me at all.  Well, actually, I do believe it, I foresaw this happening, as I recall, but you swore you'd never forget me..."

"Mario? Mario Flannagan? I can't believe it! What the hell, man!" John looked flabbergasted. Quite frankly, Mysterious Marilyn was a bit much to take when you were a regular on Liberty Avenue, much less a visitor from Planet Straight. Who'd have guessed our resident gypsy was half Irish, half Italian and used to be buddies with an O'Keefe? Emmett appeared fascinated.

"So, you two went to school together?"

"I was between O'Keefe brothers," Marilyn explained, since John was still too floored to answer. "And doesn't that sound like a delicious place to be? I was between Luke and Jackie here. Is this the baby, Jackie? What's your name, sweetie? Wait, don't tell me...I can see it...give me your hand...." Marilyn reached over me to take Danny's hand. Danny clasped the tall drag queen's hand, but Marilyn kept it, holding it tightly as Danny tried to pull away. She had her eyes closed and an expression of intense concentration on her face as she intoned in a deep voice,

"The seventh son of the seventh son strives to be happy

A choice must be made that's no choice for one such as he.

He finds the love of his life but the cost is high

To keep it he must bid his life's greatest love goodbye."

"What the fuck!" As I pulled his hand free from Marilyn's grasp, I could tell that Danny was shaking but I couldn't believe he was upset by that bullshit. I looked at John and Emmett, both of them also looked upset. What a crock of crap.

"Marilyn, or Mario, whichever the fuck you prefer, if you needed money for lunch, all you had to do was ask, you didn't need to pull your circus tent shit here," I snapped. I had my arm over Danny's shoulder. "Danny is the youngest O'Keefe, which everyone knows by now, and obviously if you knew Luke, and not everyone still remembers him around here, then you knew he was the seventh son, not the sixth, clever you. But you're a little off with the seventh son of a seventh son, his dad was the oldest of three...."

Danny shifted against me as Marilyn's eyes flashed.

"I didn't say what I did to get a 'free lunch' as you so crassly put it, Kinney. I know you aren't a believer. I seem to recall you being stuck on the Pennsylvania Turnpike with a flat tire because you wouldn't listen to me." She turned to John. "I'm sorry, Jackie, you know I would never upset you or your brother on purpose. Sometimes these spells take me. I felt a very strong reaction to your brother when I took his hand. It was like..."

"Like that last time you saw Luke," Danny whispered. Marilyn turned to Danny and looked at him sympathetically. "He told you?" Danny nodded. "I'm sorry. I know he found it funny. He wasn't a believer, much like Kinney. Luke always refused to listen and I probably shouldn't have said anything, but that's the curse of having this 'gift.' Do you speak and risk influencing someone in a negative way, or stay silent, and chance not giving a warning that could change events for the better."

"But what was that about the seventh son of the seventh son? Danny isn't so your vision or whatever it was has to have been wrong." Emmett objected. I could feel the tension in Danny's body. I made an impatient noise. I couldn't believe we were even discussing this shit. I put Danny's fork back in his hand and made a production out of helping him spear some food. He gave me a wan smile but did continue eating. Marilyn started to speak but I swear John kicked her under the table to shut her up.

"I think we've heard enough about it for now. It's been great seeing you, Mario. I'll even make you a deal, you stop calling me Jackie, and I'll stop calling you Mario, okay?" John continued to keep the conversation moving in lighter channels for the rest of the meal. But he gave me a look that made me decide to have Cynthia make an appointment for me in his office for later that day. I suspected there was something he wasn't sharing with the group. I gave Danny a deep kiss after feeding him another forkful of salad, causing Debbie, who'd just walked up, to make one of her usual cracks.

"Okay, that's enough. Either let the boy eat his lunch, Brian, or make it worthwhile and let me sell tickets. One or the other."

John cleared his throat. "The lady has a point, boys. Danny, stop swallowing Brian's tongue and finish your salad so you can have some cake, and Brian, let go of Danny so we can go over the plan for this movie, figure out how he can do both the movie and the ballet, then you can incorporate Danny's part into the advertising, making more of the romance aspect, which, from what I've seen of the script, is much needed, all fifteen minutes of it."

"Is that the movie deal? The classic fifteen minutes of fame?" Debbie looked torn between excitement at Danny being in a Stephen Lane movie and disappointment that the part wasn't bigger.

"Danny, you will be careful and think about what I said, won't you?" Marilyn wouldn't give up.

Just then, the screeching of tires could be heard. The diner door swung open and Hunter scrambled in, dragging a pale Brandon by the arm.

"Jeez, one of these days that truck is going to kill someone! Did you guys see that? Flattened twink lawyer is what you almost had out there!" Hunter was short of breath but he ambled over with his typical laid-back gait. Brandon wasn't as quick to resume his cool.

"Fuck, did you see that nutcase truck driver? Has anyone ever gotten his license number and reported that maniac?" The blond's usual emotionless facade was definitely ruffled.

Danny started laughing. He looked over at our resident psychic. "There you go, Marilyn, a worthy cause. You could predict who that driver is finally going to hit and if we start a pool, you might be able to retire off the winnings."

Marilyn stood up, the image of affronted diva dignity, even as Debbie and Emmett joined Danny in laughing. She stared down at John, dark kohl rimmed eyes serious.

"Keep an eye out for him, danger surrounds him. The seventh son of the seventh son will have to choose between the darkness and the light." With that, the queen stalked out.

Hunter pulled a chair over for Brandon and then grabbed a second one to flop into next to him.

"What was her problem?" He looked after the departing Mysterious Marilyn, scarves flowing behind her as she swept out the door.

"Bad Iron Maiden music. One shouldn't listen to it before ten p.m., and never when sober," John deadpanned.

*********************************************

(Setting: Later that Day; Law Offices of John O'Keefe; POV/Brian)

John leaned back in his chair and gave me his impassive look.

"So, to what do I owe the honor? A new will perhaps? Maybe a power of attorney?"

"No thanks. I'm all caught up in my estate planning. Ted hands the documents to me and I sign by the sticky. I think my current living will gives the janitor the right to pull the plug."

John grinned appreciatively, which I was glad to see. I'd made the joke before I'd remembered the upset over his mother's medical directive. Tactless. At least he hadn't taken offense.

"Actually, I was hoping you would assure me that Danny is not, in fact, the seventh son of a seventh son. I've had some weird experiences in the past with Mysterious Marilyn, as your old locker mate likes to call himself now, and just for peace of mind..."

John leaned forward and placed his chin on his steepled fingers. "I wish I could give you that assurance. I stopped Mario for a reason today. Danny doesn't need that shit. He's always avoided 'Marilyn' for a reason and Mario knows it. That whole thing today about, 'Is this the baby?' was bullshit. He's known who Danny is for ages and has always been after Luke and me to introduce them, because of that seventh son status. Danny's superstitious, what actor isn't? Knowing about Luke's last friendly visit with our old friend, and his warning to Luke has bothered him for years a lot. I wish to hell Luke never mentioned it to him. Marilyn knew damn well that my grandfather O'Keefe was married twice and that my father was in fact a seventh son."

Fuck, I thought. "How did it happen?" I asked softly, "and is that something Danny knows? He never mentioned it to me. Joey never did either."

"No, I don't think either one does. Danny's never mentioned it and because of Mario and some prophecies he made years ago, I made a point of never telling him. But, I can't be sure what the others told him. Granddad's first marriage was before Word War I, and he had six sons. I don't know if you know anything about Ireland's role in that war, but many Irish had mixed feelings about fighting alongside the British. Notwithstanding that, quite a few Irishmen joined the British forces, including those first six sons, ranging in age from sixteen to twenty-two. They were big, strapping boys, classic O'Keefes. Eventually they ended up in the 36th Ulster Division, in time for the Battle of the Somme. All six of them were among the five thousand Irish who died in that battle, fully half of the Battalion was lost, one of the worst routs of the war." I winced, what a loss for a family to sustain. I tried to imagine Rose and Patrick, if they'd lost all of their sons to war. Losing one had been tragedy enough.

"According to Dad, their mother died of a heart attack when she received the news. She was alone when she got the news since my grandfather was working in the munitions factory in the city and her sisters were working in the local hospital. She must have had a stroke or a heart attack, no one was sure. A few years later, when he came back home after the war, granddad married my grandmother, who was the younger of the first wife's two sisters. Gram left her work at the hospital and came to take care of his younger children, all daughters. She gave birth to my father a few years later, and then some years later had Uncle Frank. Uncle Sean was born shortly before World War II. My grandfather hated the Germans with a passion, and made my father promise that if anything ever happened to him, he'd take his brothers and leave Ireland. Dad was just a boy, but he kept that promise. His father died during the Second World War, ducking a stray bomb that some lost German flyer dropped in a field. Dad tried to get his mother to come to America with him when he emigrated, but she was too set in her ways and wouldn't leave the Old Country."

I could see why John didn't want to get into this sad family history, of the half dozen sons lost to war, in front of everyone at the diner, but I thought it was more likely than not that Danny knew it already, and thus had known he was the seventh son of a seventh son when Marilyn first started spouting her nonsense. He was very close to his mother, and having gone to Ireland and visited the relatives there, I strongly doubted they didn't still discuss this old tale over a few pints. It also was highly likely that if Marilyn had been friends with Luke years ago, Luke, who'd been born in Ireland and had much closer ties to that part of the family than some of the younger O'Keefes, probably told the old queen the story. Putting together bits and pieces of fact like that was a so-called "psychic's" stock in trade.

As I was thinking of a response, John's intercom sounded. His sister Mary Fran, who worked at his office, apologized for interrupting.

"John, there's a man here to see you. He doesn't have an appointment but you might want to see him, says it's important, has something to do with Danny...and Angel."

We looked at each other. John pressed the button to respond, letting me listen in. "What's his name?"

"His name is Miguel Martinez. He says it's pretty important. Oh, and he also said he knows Brian." John raised an eyebrow at me. I nodded. If Martinez had come all the way down here to speak with John O'Keefe, he must have something to say that would be worth hearing. He didn't strike me as a scam artist. As we waited for Mary Fran to show the man in, I quickly filled John in on what I knew of the guy.

**********************************************

(Setting: Danny's Townhouse; later that same day; POV/Brian)

I watched Danny as he sat at his laptop, brows knit in concentration. He was working on the score for another movie; a new assignment. He had his headphones on and was doing some preliminary work as he watched scenes from the parts that they wanted him to focus on. Briana was watching one of her favorite Disney movies, "Beauty and the Beast." Gus had been allowed to come for the sleepover, to my surprise, and the two of them had their sleeping bags spread out on the floor near the big screen. John's two younger boys were there as well as one of Danny's niece's little girls, so it was kid central. I was debating heading home to the loft to sleep tonight, but Danny had promised me that the sleeping bags would all be moved up to the dance studio and his teen-age niece, Julie, was showing up later to handle chaperone duty from Briana's room so we could expect peace and quiet. Emmett was out on a date and John wasn't expected back until later.

Danny thought John was out with his first wife again, and teasingly made him promise to be back before dawn to take his sons to soccer practice. In actuality, he was still with Martinez, going over everything the guy knew with a fine-toothed comb. Michelle O'Keefe was helping, in fact, but mainly because she had connections in New York, having clerked up there years earlier. John also thought having someone listen to the story who didn't already hate Simon's guts might prove helpful since Martinez clearly had it in for the guy, I was all too willing to believe the worst of him, and John admitted to wanting to strangle him every time he thought of him having Danny grabbed and marking him the way he'd done. In truth, however, we had no proof of any active wrongdoing by the guy in years. Even in the incident with Danny, the charges had to be dropped, John admitted, because Luke had assaulted Simon far worse than any visible damage to Danny. An attempted rape between two gay men wasn't going to get much attention from the police, especially when the alleged rapist was rich and nursing several broken bones, John said. None of the damage Simon did to Danny's career over the years was ever provable; the people who gave into his pressure would never admit to it. As far as the other young men, like Justin, they all seemingly went into the arrangement willingly, and made out well in it. All except this Silver. And Angel O'Keefe. Two situations where drugs were involved.

John and I agreed to go over what else he learned in the morning over breakfast. If John thought Martinez was on the up and up, then we'd discuss it with Danny. I hadn't been in favor of keeping the guy's visit or his information from Danny for any period, but I had to concede John's point that Danny did tend to rush in and play hero without any thought to his own risks. I was worried about Justin, but I was worried about Danny too. This Miguel was clearly worried about Justin, and to his credit, seemed concerned about the risk Simon posed generally. John's sole concern was his brother.

Just sitting here on a Friday night with a bunch of kids, however, waiting to find out what he learned was driving me nuts. I didn't want to head out and leave Danny alone with all the kids, however, especially when one of them was mine. I had to admit, though, Sonnyboy did seem perfectly happy playing with the other children. I debated how lousy it would be to head out for a couple hours grownup play time at Woody's, time unmarred by dancing candlesticks, when a foot came up from the opposite side of the sofa and started massaging my upper thigh. Suddenly the playtime here was looking a hell of a lot better.

I decided to tough out the dancing dinnerware after all, and leaned back against the arm of the sofa, putting my feet in Danny's lap in order to do a little massaging of my own, seeing if I could get him to set aside his work. After a few minutes of that, he laughed softly and with a glance at the absorbed rugrats, he shifted the laptop to the table behind the sofa and beckoned me to turn around so that I could rest back against his chest. He ran his free hand through my hair and smiled down at me absently, most of his attention still focused on the small screen now to the side of him. I smiled back up at him, admiring how he looked in his tortoiseshell glasses, a new addition that seemed to cut back on his headaches. His smile widened as he glanced again at the smaller children, curled up on their bags together before turning back to his work, one hand slipping under my shirt to caress my chest. Nothing like having a multi-tasker for a lover.

Seeing Gus so happy with the other kids, I wondered how much simple fun he got in his new home. I really needed to renew my efforts to talk Lindsay and Mel into staying in Pittsburgh. They'd been here for almost two months at this point and were showing no signs of going back.

Mel was working part-time at Michelle O'Keefe's firm to keep them in cash while they lived free at the O'Keefe house. I paid my usual support, of course, so they were actually living better than they had for a while. But with the school year starting soon they needed to make some decisions. John was considering offering Mel a job at his larger firm since Micky really couldn't afford to hire her full-time, but he wasn't sure she would fit into his practice as well as she did his ex wife's. I suspected he was already funneling some work their way to help subsidize her. Maybe we could throw some business their way so she could stay where she was; not that Mel's forte was contract work, but maybe she could handle the employment work we had from time to time. I wondered if Ted would be willing to get arrested again to help the cause. It would be amusing to ask him.

I closed my eyes and concentrated on the talented fingers stroking my pecs, brushing lightly over my tightening nipples before sliding teasingly down over my abs. I could feel his hard cock against my back and wished I could drag him into the bedroom. The minute Julie showed up, I was doing just that. Fuck his work.

"Uncle Brian! Uncle Brian!" I opened one eye. Briana was tugging on my arm. With his headphones on, Danny must not have heard her, as he usually ran interference for me with the kids.

"Yeah, Briana? What do you need?"

"We're hungry. Can you get us a snack?" I looked at the empty popcorn bowls and juices boxes strewn around the room.

"Did you ask Danny if you could have more?" I raised my eyebrow and got a look of cherubic innocence in return. It didn't escape my notice that the others were all carefully pretending not to be listening to her attempt to wheedle more snacks out of me. My son appeared fascinated by the movie and it would seem that Belle's latest encounter with the Beast was enthralling even the older boys.

"Uncle Daddy is working, Uncle Brian, I can't bother him," Briana explained sanctimoniously, batting those long O'Keefe lashes at me.

"You are an imp." I told her. "And what would you all like to eat?" She tipped her head to the side as though considering it for the first time. The head tip was the clincher. I couldn't resist those O'Keefes when they did that head-tipping thing. She could ask for Beam and I would probably give it to her. Of course, being Angel's kid, that wasn't outside the realm of possibility.

"Ice-cream with jimmies would hit the spot," she told me, after a moment's serious but no doubt spurious consideration. "But everybody wants some, not just me."

I laughed and got up, moving her uncle's roving hand. He looked up, startled. He really had been lost in his work. I brought his hand up to my lips.

"We have a request. A spot that can only be hit by ice cream with jimmies has been identified. Five spots, to be exact."

Danny peered over his glasses at his niece, who was the very image of innocence, then at the other kids, who were looking over at us to see how Briana was doing in her negotiations now that the real decision maker had stepped in.

"Didn't you monkeys just eat like an hour ago? You can't be hungry again!"

"Yes we can!" they all assured him.

"Well, I don't know..." he started to say. I leaned over and kissed him.

"Awww, come on, 'Uncle Daddy', loosen up a little. Besides, they didn't ask you, they asked me, and last time I checked, I had seniority on you. I'm older so that makes me the boss and I think ice-cream is a good idea." Out the corner of my eye I could see Gus getting a high five from one of the O'Keefe boys, which he happily returned. Briana grinned to see her uncle bested, which I knew I would pay for later, but seeing as how she still looked so frail and underweight, I didn't think it would be hard to win him over to my decision.

"Besides, whatever happened to, 'we don't question another parent's authority in front of the kids?' Don't you want to encourage me to take an interest?" I whispered to him, as he still gave me a doubtful look After seeing Gus's happy face, he relaxed and got up, stretching.

"Ice cream it is, Senior Daddy on duty. I'll help get it out, which means it will be the job of Most Senior Daddy, aka, Old Man John, when his shift starts, to clean up the mess they leave. Which," he added with a mock scary face, "will be at the counter in the kitchen, you monkeys. No ice cream and jimmies in here. Pause the movie, Josh, please. Ciara, let me pick you up and put you on one of the bar stools, sweetie. Brian, you get Briana, and boys, it's every man for himself."

It was some time before we were alone in Danny's room. Julie came in with Hunter and Johnny O'Keefe and the three teens told lively stories of their evening at Babylon, after assuring the stern uncle that they kept their underage bands on and Julie was suitably chaperoned the whole time. Eventually, they settled down. Julie got the girls tucked into bed, and the guys promised to get the bigger boys settled down after one more round of video games. I was able to get Gus to agree to get ready at the same time the girls did with the promise that I would come up and read him a story after his bath.

Stretched out on the studio floor, breathing in the sweet smell of freshly bathed little kid, I was struck with one of those momentary pangs for all that I've missed with Gus that I'm prone to whenever I have one of these perfect times with him. It struck me how much more frequently these good times happened now than before the girls left. I wondered if it was a function of me changing, or Danny's influence, or some combination of both. Even when I visited in Canada, it was often difficult to find something to do, much as I wanted to connect. With Danny, and his easy acceptance of, and to be honest, his help in planning child-centered activities, I was getting to really know my quiet, reflective son. He was an amazing little person in his own right. He didn't talk much, but when he did, his understanding and vocabulary were always surprising me, given his age.

I ruffled his hair now, as I got ready to get up. Giggles could be heard coming from the girls' sleeping bags.

"You going to be okay with all that giggling, Sonnyboy? Until the other guys get up here?"

"Yeah, I'm used to lots of girls being around, Dad. This was really fun, wasn't it?" The eyes so much like mine looked up at me happily. I leaned down and gave him a tight hug.

"It was a lot of fun. We'll do it again soon, promise." His smile made all the sticky fingers from the ice cream, the dancing dishes of a Disney movie, and the non-stop chatter in treble voices well worth it. I knew I would be keeping the promise.

When I slipped into Danny's bedroom, he was already in bed, but on top of the covers, clad only in his usual black sweats, holding his guitar...sound asleep. Poor kid...not that I'd dare say that word out loud, I thought with a grin as I walked softly to the bed and removed the guitar without disturbing him. That was a clear sign that he was exhausted since he normally wasn't that heavy a sleeper and anyone touching one of his instruments, especially his precious Spanish guitar, seemed to set off some internal alarm. He managed fairly well on only six hours sleep a night, but lately he'd barely been getting part of that, with Briana's illness and the extra workload. Debbie was right, Emmett and I weren't doing all that great a job taking care of him, although as John pointed out, Danny was a grown man who was well accustomed to taking care of himself. The truth was somewhere in the middle, I suspected, and Danny's mother, when she was alive, had managed to keep an eye on him and forced him to take it easy when he was running himself down too low.

Danny lacked my own well-honed degree of self-preservation. Which made me all the more determined to keep him safe. Mysterious Marilyn's mutterings didn't trouble me as much as the story Miguel Martinez told. I'd been impressed by that guy's level headed practicality when I met him in New York. For him to be concerned enough for Justin's safety to come all the way down here to seek out Danny, and yet cautious enough to do it through John as opposed to directly, worried me. Martinez might be a law student now, but you could tell he came from a tough background and wasn't a guy who scared easily. For him to be so frightened of Simon that he wanted his tracks covered was definitely cause for concern. John was bringing him by in the morning to meet with Danny and see what light Danny could shed on the incident with the other boy who had seemingly disappeared after being one of Simon's "angels" for a few months.

I undressed as quietly as I could then crawled into bed next to him. I pulled the covers down on my side of the bed, and sure enough, it wasn't long before he rolled over toward me. Even in his sleep, Danny was a cuddler. I pulled him onto my chest and felt his leg entwine around mine. Since he kept his room air conditioned even colder than the loft, the warmth was welcome. That's what I told myself, but of course, that wasn't the only reason I welcomed his closeness much as I liked to pretend I was still the cold-hearted bastard who didn't mind sleeping alone. I kept the Loft as an expensive prop to that image. There were still times when I retreated to it; mainly when Danny was away on a trip, as I hated sleeping here without him. But it had been a long time since I'd taken a trick back to my place and sent him away after fucking him. Hell, it'd been a long time since I'd tricked, period.

Now, Danny and I used the loft for those times when we partied late at Babylon and he was in one of his "dark angel" moods. In his sleep, he looked like such the angelic choir boy he also could be, it was hard to hard to remember the wild devil that was also him. Just thinking about the last time we were at the loft together, making use of my toy box, was making me rock hard.

I reached down to touch myself but another hand was already there, long fingers clasped lightly over my cock. A slight smile was curving those full lips upward.

"Someone is faking being asleep, I suspect."

The only answer was a slight grinding of a certain cotton-clad crotch against my thigh and a slight increase in the pressure of the stroking of those teasing fingers. Playing possum, hmm. Two can play that game, and one of us has more will power...hopefully. Deciding not to say anything further, and biting back my reaction to the sensations those talented fingers were causing, I moved my hand away and slid it caressingly across the smooth back lying across me, dragging my thumb slowing over the sensitive area right at the base, at the dent above his ass crack. His breathing hitched slightly, and he gripped me tightly for a fraction of a second, but then moved his thumb to the top of my cock to collect the pre-cum that was gathering there. He ran his thumb all around the slit then right down to sweet spot...fucking cheater.

I growled and rolled over on top of him, pinning his hands above his head as I bent down to kiss him hard. I lifted my head only when it was necessary to catch a breath.

"Why, Mr. Kinney, is this any way to wake someone up?" Laughing green eyes sparkled up at me, even in the dark. How the fuck he did that I hadn't a clue, and I knew it was pathetically sappy to be entranced by it, but I didn't give a damn. I couldn't help smiling back at him.

"Yeah, it's the best way," I whispered, before bending my head back down to kiss him again.

*********************************************

(The next morning; Danny's Townhouse; POV/Miguel)

I looked up at the expensive looking townhouses, after we passed by the security guard at the entrance to the community. The Dark Angel had done pretty well for himself. The cars in the parking spaces were all fancy ones, Jags and BMWs for the most part, here and there a Volvo. Classic 'Vette, even. It had taken a lot of my New Yorker bravado to walk into that classy law firm yesterday and ask to speak to the top guy without an appointment. Being confronted with a administrative assistant who was taller than I was hadn't helped my confidence any. Damn, those O'Keefes were big. But, it turned out that they were all pretty damn nice. This morning, John O'Keefe had picked me up at the hotel he insisted on paying for in a big ass Mercedes. He not only paid for the hotel, but he insisted on reimbursing me for my travel expenses, which was a big relief, since I'd done some real damage to my savings in coming down here.

I'd been more than lucky yesterday. Not only did John agree to see me but also Kinney had been there as well and stayed to listen to my story. I laid out the whole story that I'd heard at Divas for them, then gave them some of the information I'd gotten from Cyprian about Justin's activities and mood swings. She'd been able to discover that he definitely received some kind of "medicine" from George, which helped with his hand, but she thought it had a detrimental effect on his creativity and self-control. She also reported that George had argued with Simon because he wanted to decrease it after the apparent overdose incident with me, not that the creepy bodyguard slash doctor slash Dr. Frankenstein knew the whole story about that, obviously. Cyprian, who had a real gift for listening at doors, said George won, and the only explanation he gave Justin was that the medicine seemed to be affecting his work so he thought they might try weaning him off it while they were in Europe. Justin had been nervous, she said, since apparently this medicine, whatever the fuck it was, enabled him to paint for hours pain-free. According to Cyprian, however, who admittedly wasn't an expert, but she did know something about art, the stuff he was turning out didn't look anywhere near as good as his earlier work. Kinney had been furious at the idea of the kid being drugged, but O'Keefe had been calmer, pointing out that as we knew, Justin knew about and agreed to anything he was being given.

We spent the evening going over every bit of information we could, with O'Keefe calling a cousin of his who was a detective with the NYCPD. His ex-wife, a really nice woman, checked in with some D.A.s she knew. At the end of it all, we had a hell of a lot of smoke, but no fire, as Micky O'Keefe put it. Simon had been too careful. Even in the case of "Silver," aka, Stephen Frame, we learned, the parents had approved of everything in exchange for Simon picking up the cost of a nice inpatient facility. Mom and Dad Frame might have gotten a nice payday out of it too; not a bad exchange for some parents. They get an embarrassing kid with a penchant for the wrong gender off their hands at no charge and enough money to take a cruise...or ten.

John pulled up into an empty space and he paused after we got out of the car.

"I want you to know that we do appreciate all the trouble you've gone to, coming down here and meeting with us all these times, Miguel. Anything I can do to square things with your boss or school, please let me know. I know we've put you through the wringer, but..."

"But you wanted to make sure I'm one of the good guys before I get to meet your brother and tell him a sob story that might send him flying directly into Simon's hands. I understand, man. I'm just glad my brother didn't get the old bastard's juices flowing. Juan got away with a thousand dollar kiss off and a one-way plane ticket to LA. Pissed him off at the time, but he made the most of it. He's doing well now. And this is my vacation, so instead of New York, I'm spending it in lovely downtown Pittsburgh. Maybe my bosses will get nervous I'm going to take a job out of state and make me a big offer. You paying for the hotel my travel expenses was more than I hoped for, so we're good. You could have told your staff to show me the door yesterday. So, this where the Dark Angel lives?"

Before he could answer, a runner came sprinting up the street towards us. If I ever wondered what it was that made Edward Simon go to such extremes chasing after Danny O'Keefe, the sight of the Dark Angel coming toward me clad only in tiny, sweat soaked running shorts would have removed all mystery. Thank God I don't have billions to squander on obsessions or I too would be a dangerous man, I decided. Por Dios, no es un Angel, es un Dios. The damp shorts left nothing to the imagination, and mine would have fallen short anyway. His body was perfect, like one of those Greek statutes is perfect, only better, because he had warm, tanned flesh, with every muscle formed perfectly. I'd heard his eyes were green, but they weren't green like his brother's, which were green like a stone. His were deep, dark green, like a really healthy plant's leaves, with flecks of lighter color in them. His hair was blackest black, and curly, its length weighing it down to loose waves, like mine would be, if I let it grow long like that. He had it pulled back for running, but tendrils had escaped around his face. His lips were full and begged to be sucked. Man, I sounded like Juan with one of his crushes. But truly, he was a gay man's dream, and it took everything I had not to move forward and start licking that sweat off. He gave me a knowing smile, while his brother nudged me...hard. I managed not to stumble; let's hear it for me, I thought. Although if I had fallen, maybe the Dark Angel would have picked me up?

"Miguel, Miguel, did you hear me? I said this is my brother Danny. But perhaps you figured that out?" John O'Keefe's tone was dryly amused.

Danny O'Keefe reached out his hand to shake mine. "I hope you don't mind if I'm kind of sweaty...as you can tell, I just finished my run. Come upstairs and I'll shower quickly so we can have breakfast. Brian mentioned you'd be over but I thought I'd be back before you got here. I ran into some of my nephews and had to show them I wasn't too old to out run them, which made me run longer than I'd intended."

As I shook hands with him, yeah, like I'd mind his sweat...I wanted to roll in it, he tipped his head and gave me a closer look. I wished I were wearing a hotter looking outfit. I'd just thrown on some normal Levis and a black t-shirt, over which I wore a light casual sport coat, still in semi-lawyer mode. Still, his look was appreciative. I was glad it was my one Armani sport coat.

"Did we meet before? You look really familiar."

I grinned. Damn, Juan hadn't been putting me on. Who would think the Dark Angel would remember him though? Wait until I told him.

"You may be remembering my twin, he's an actor. He was at..."

"An audition with me, we hooked up. Juan! I remember him now! Oh my God, when we were talking on the phone the other month he didn't say a word, that's too funny. Small world. He should have said something, of course I remember. He told me then he had an identical twin, we were supposed to try to get together sometime but I had to leave town before it could be arranged. Too bad." He gave his brother an evil look. "Just think, John, identical twins..."

"Not before breakfast, thank you very much. Come on, upstairs, to your boyfriend, remember him?"

Danny O'Keefe smirked at his brother, then gave me another smile. "Don't listen to him, like he hasn't fantasized about twins. Who hasn't? Well, Brian probably has done twins...and triplets...I'll have to ask him. Or am I being rude? Juan didn't seem to mind but I shouldn't assume you don't, he said you were the serious one. As you can see, John is our serious one. Out of a half dozen males, he holds that distinction, I think it's fair to say. Maybe it's a lawyer thing."

"Someone is cheerful this morning," John commented, leading the way as we started up these monster flights of steps. I was happy; I made sure to get behind that ass in those little shorts on the trip up once I was told there were three flights.

"Someone got some last night and someone must not have," Danny said in a singsong, skipping every other step and giving me a really great view of his assets.

"Some of us would have gotten more sleep in the townhouse if someone hadn't arranged for a sleepover of five kids and then gone to his sound proofed room," groused the older brother. It was really funny. It was like listening to Juan and me; it made me miss my baby brother.

"May I remind you that the two worst kids of the bunch were your demon spawn? I did have to go in once to rescue Julie when they had her locked in the gym. Thank God she had her cell phone with her."

"I can't believe Brian came running out naked...did you hear Julie scream?" John O'Keefe laughed.

"He'd been taking a shower and those brats turned on the dishwasher and the washing machine to make the water go cold on purpose...you're lucky he didn't kill them." Danny turned to me. We'd just reached the first landing. "It was just a typical O'Keefe sleep over. My older niece was helping out and ended up getting an eyeful at one point. I do hope Mark isn't over here with a shotgun demanding Brian marry her later. She was screeching like she never saw a naked man before...you don't think that could be possible, do you John?" He called up to his brother, who paused to look down at us. Damn, just the second landing…man would have a great ass climbing these stairs every day. I thought my building was bad.

"Don't ask me...I have all boys. She hangs out with you gays all the time, who knows? I just know he scared the shit out of my monsters, thank God, and they finally went to bed after he threatened to run them through the rinse cycle. I would have let him, too. I was so beat by that point. Where were you, anyway?"

New York's notorious "Dark Angel" got the most adorable blush on his face at that question. His older brother took one look at him and burst out laughing. "I guess I know why Kinney got the brunt of the water on him...and why you weren't in any condition to come running out after my two, lucky for them. I seem to remember Dad using a similar method to separate two dogs..."

"I think that's enough of that visual, thank you very much," Danny interrupted. "Besides, one of us obviously had a good night, interruptions notwithstanding, while one of us..."

"Pax," John held up his hands. "You win. No need to rub it in."

Danny laughed then sprinted past his brother to open the door at the top of the third flight of stairs. Turning, he made a sweeping gesture, "Miguel, welcome to my home. It's now free of all rugrats, monkeys and homo sapiens under the age of consent. And females, for that matter, unless some have sneaked in while I was out running. Bri, you hiding any women in here, you wild naked man?" A hopeful note crept into that gorgeous voice as he followed us inside, calling out to Kinney.

Now, I firmly believe that New York City has the best looking men in the world... on the average. But based on the quality of male standing in that townhouse living room once Brian Kinney walked into it, wearing just a pair of low cut black jeans...I would have given an affidavit that Pittsburgh was the gay mecca of the world. Juan had gone on about that very point after seeing the Babylon Benefit, but I'd kind of blown him off, pointing out that a lot of those performers were probably New Yorkers in town for the day. Seeing the two O'Keefes and Kinney in person...and Kinney when he hadn't been traveling all night looked a hell of a lot better than when he had...I was now a believer in Pittsburgh's entitlement to bragging rights. They were three of the hottest guys I'd ever seen. Kinney had this whole sultry thing going on that hadn't been as obvious in his suit and tie yesterday. Or when he was doing the paternal thing with Justin in June. Totally oblivious to the sweat, he pulled the Dark Angel over to him for a steamy kiss while John O'Keefe walked over to the kitchen where another tall guy was cooking. I was in the land of the giants.

"Emmett, this is Miguel Martinez, he's the guy who helped out with Justin Taylor the other month up in New York. Are you making breakfast, perhaps? I'm starved and I'm sure Miguel would like something to eat, as would Danny if Kinney ever lets go of him so he can shower. Miguel, this is Emmett Honeycutt, Danny's best friend, and resident chef, when he does eat."

"Miguel, pleased to meet you! Aren't you the cutie! You're the one looking out for our little Justin up there in New York? God knows someone has to; boy seems to have left his brains here in Pittsburgh. We spoke during that nightmare evening when he got some bad E or whatever it was. I think the boy wanted to fuck everything but the bedpost from what I can recall. Remember, Danny, he offered to blow even you if you came to New York?"

Danny O'Keefe looked over from what he was doing. I saw him glance at Kinney's face, which was devoid of expression, before he walked over and gave his friend a kiss on the cheek. Then he grabbed a bottled water from the counter before answering mildly.

"Can't say I remember much about that night, actually, Em. In my collection of Justin Taylor memories, that's another one I've blacked out, I'm afraid, and let's just leave it there, okay? I'm going to grab a quick shower, then come back out and be sociable...how much time do I have?"

"If you're grabbing a quick shower, what does it matter? How long does it take to shower?" John objected, grabbing a bagel and taking a bite. He indicated the plate of muffins and breadstuffs for me to help myself. "Make yourself at home, Miguel. Take your jacket off. As you can see from Kinney and Danny, clothing is optional around here."

"Yes, isn't it lovely?" Emmett chimed in with a wide grin. He waved Danny on to what must have been his room. "Go on, I'm making frittatas, in honor of Miguel, so you have a good half hour, plenty of time to do your push-ups and crunches. I know how to interpret 'quick shower' after all this time, even if your brother doesn't."

After grabbing another water bottle, the gorgeous almost naked man took off. I couldn't think of any good excuse for following him, but it wasn't for lack of trying, that was for sure. Like, can I hold that water bottle for you, Mr. Dark Angel and watch you do your push-ups? Meanwhile, John was rolling his eyes as he slathered cream cheese on his bagel. Kinney nodded to me as he came over and accepted a cup of coffee from Emmett, which I was surprised to have handed to me by the aloof one, before he reached for a second one for himself. Meanwhile, John was bitching to the room at large.

"I should know that quick shower means he's going to work out for another fifteen minutes at least? And this is why? So his stomach muscles stick out an extra eighth of an inch? If he wore a shirt like a normal person, it wouldn't matter."

"And this," Kinney informed John O'Keefe after he added about four teaspoons of sugar to his coffee cup, "is why you will never be mistaken for a gay man, your priorities are really messed up. Of course it's important to be able to go shirtless. And to look good while doing so. Although I'll grant you, Danny carries it to extremes. But he's a perfectionist." Kinney shrugged as he drank that impossibly sweet coffee.

"Not that I'm crushed that I'll never be mistaken for a gay man, in fact, trust me, I'm counting on it, but I can't help noticing that you don't work out like a fiend. We didn't see you up running at the crack of dawn, Kinney, nor does your torso look like I could review for an anatomy test on musculature merely by looking at it." John shook his head at him mockingly as he bit into his cream cheese laden bagel. Man, I wish I could eat like that. Of course, this was just his pre-breakfast snack too. Kinney was right, no one would ever mistake John O'Keefe for a gay man-it wasn't even light cream cheese. How the hell he stayed that skinny was a mystery.

Emmett turned around from whatever it was he was doing at the stove that smelled so good to squeal with delight. "Oh my God, John, you're so right! Brian! How is it we know you're gay? Tell John and Miguel."

The tall auburn haired man leaned over the counter, stared at the two of us and whispered low and sexy, "I fuck men."

"Your cock-sucking skills are pretty good too," an amused voice called in from the other room as John shook his head at Emmett and Kinney's matching smirks.

"How does he do that?" Brian wondered, picking up a piece of mushroom and staring at it for a second before biting it. "He can hear anything when he wants to..."

"But when he is focused on something, you can talk to him for thirty minutes and he doesn't hear a word? I know. Used to drive Dad crazy. Mama used to claim he learned to tune out extraneous noise in the cradle, growing up in such a busy, full household, but Mary Kate said it was likely he picked up the sharp hearing trying to eavesdrop on us older ones with Angel."

"It was more likely I developed it while playing look-out for Jamie, Angel and Joey, to let them know if Mom or Dad were coming," Danny protested from the doorway. He wore only a towel.

"Are you getting a shower sometime today?" His brother asked, "Or are you just going to pose all stinky? I do have work to get to eventually and would like breakfast." He was the only one who minded the view; I had no objection to his brother standing around all morning in a towel, stinky or not. Sweat was good in my book.

Danny just grinned at him, unrepentant. "I need some juice, brother dearest. And quit bitching, I'm being very good, I put a towel on to protect your sensibilities, and have refrained from dragging Brian back into the bedroom so you can have breakfast. Had someone told me we were having company this morning before the minute I was heading out on my run...."

"Boys, boys, no family bickering. Danny, Emmett has your juice, now take it and then go get ready since we do have something specific to talk about. Miguel isn't here just for a social visit," Kinney's voice started out light, but by the time he finished, the tension was showing. He seemed to be sending some kind of message to Danny with his look because instead of balking as I expected, the younger O'Keefe simply nodded, grabbed the glass Emmett was holding out, and walked quickly from the room.

Kinney looked over at the older O'Keefe. "Excuse me for a minute. Don't worry, I'm not going to be molesting him, I just need to...fuck. I'll be right back."

*********************************************

(POV/Danny)

Something was going on and I wasn't going to like it. That much was clear. I was trying really hard to hold onto my temper but it wasn't easy, despite the great mood I had been in, and my run, which normally left me feeling mellow. I hated when things were kept from me, and it was clear that everyone in the other room knew something I didn't. I took a deep breath and stepped under the strong stream of water from the shower. Brian was freaked out over something. He'd seemed stressed last night but I thought it was just the kids. I considered suggesting he come over later, after they were settled down, but in truth, I wanted him with me. As it turned out, we had a good time. Fuck, we had a great time. I couldn't help smiling just recalling it. We made love for hours, even with the interruption caused by Julie's escapade.

It must have been something else upsetting him, something to do with Miguel's visit. He wasn't here to interview for jobs in Pittsburgh that was for sure. The guy was New York, to the bone.

Hot guy. Amazing that little Justin Taylor merited so much of his attention. First Brian and now this guy? I couldn't see it, but there must be something to the little prick besides a plump ass. Either that or some men just have a blind spot when it comes to blonds.

"Danny?" Brian's voice was still tense; I could always tell from the pitch. His face never revealed when he was upset, but his voice went up a consistent half note. Some people speak flat when they try to control their emotions; Brian goes a half step sharp.

"Almost ready, just need to rinse my hair...I'd ask for your help but that would slow me down, don't you think?" I kept my voice light and teasing, and I'm much better at faking it than Brian is. I'd decided that whatever was wrong, it wouldn't help to get pissy over my ego. John and Brian were both protective of me; together, the effect was more than doubled. I might as well accept it. They weren't going to change, and in truth, I don't know that I'd want them to.

"You're not mad?" The relief in his voice made the effort worthwhile. God, I must be such a drama princess. Need to work on that, I decided. Even though I don't like getting ordered around, I don't have to have a snit fit over every misspoken word. Brian didn't need that.

"Nah, you can't help being bossy, it's your nature. But if you're sorry, I was thinking of inviting you to karate practice with Hunter and me this afternoon. You could let me toss you around the mat a while to make it up to me. How's that sound?"

He laughed, the warm sound going straight to my cock. Damn, I wish there were time for fucking. I was rock hard just from being naked around him. Of course, part of the arousal had started with having Miguel eying my ass and crotch as appreciatively as he'd been since I'd run up to John and him outside. I shook out my hair and stepped from the shower, still dripping, and stood in front of him.

"I promised your brother I wouldn't molest you and delay his breakfast," Brian said softly, his gaze dropping to my cock, which was begging for attention.

"I didn't make any promises...other than to be ready in thirty minutes and I still have at least ten. I don't need ten minutes to throw on a pair of jeans," I pointed out in my deepest voice as I placed my hands on his shoulders. I walked him backward to the bedroom and spun us around so that I fell backward onto the bed, my legs spread wide and pulled him down over me. I leaned up on my elbows as he slid down my body. His breath was warm around my cock. His hands played over my abs, stroking and caressing them. I held my breath and watched him intently, so turned on by everything about him. Fuck the time, fuck breakfast and fuck everything; all I cared about was this man between my legs. Well, actually, fucking him would feel really good right now.

Brian licked along my cock and balls, whispering in his beautiful voice. "Let me taste you, touch you...I could see Miguel looking at how perfect you are, wanting you, and I was so hard, knowing you're only mine. Only I get to lick this perfect cock, to taste your come, to suck you until you make that deep breathless moan you make...yeah, that one, come for me, Danny, come in my mouth."

He closed his mouth around my head and the sight of those lush lips around me, those long lashed eyes looking up to catch my every reaction made me so hot, I forgot all about fucking him. I couldn't hold back, I came hard, gasping as I watched his long throat swallow again and again. God, I loved watching him suck me off.

I collapsed back against the covers. "Fuck me now, before I die...."

Brian leaned over me and kissed me. "I'd love to, but...we can't. Damn, I hate how responsible I've become. We are staying in this bed for the rest of the weekend after you do your karate thing, but right now, we do have to talk with Miguel, so pants...and a shirt. You are too sexy for New York boy to be able to concentrate if you are only half dressed."

"What about you?" I objected, as I caught the jeans he threw at me. I had to laugh; they were probably my baggiest pair of jeans. I wondered how he found them so quickly. Of course, that meant they hung down really low and actually were pretty hot. I wondered if I should wear them or humor Brian and grab something bland to wear instead? Nah. I put on the baggy jeans and a tight t-shirt, tossing Brian a shirt as well.

"If I have to be covered up, so do you, hot stuff. I saw him looking you over, too. Although any man capable of having a thing for Justin Taylor..." I stopped right there.

Brian grinned at me. "Realized you'd better not finish that thought, huh?"

"Come on, you just worked to restore my good mood, why ruin it again?"

"Believe me, it wasn't work," he murmured as we exited the room together. I leaned back and gave him a quick kiss as John looked up from the plate Emmett was just placing in front of him. Emmett squeezed his shoulder to stop him from saying anything. I love Emmett.

"Perfect timing, boys. Though your hair needs a little attention, Danny. Maybe tie it back for now?" Emmett suggested brightly. Shit, forgot all about my hair. I made a face. It was going to be a mess to comb later. I accepted the tie that Em offered me and sat down at the table where Em placed another plate of food. Miguel was already served.

"This tastes great, man. Where'd you learn to cook like a Mexican?" Miguel smiled at Emmett after taking a bite. Emmett sat down with his own plateful, after serving Brian a small portion.

"Certainly not in Hazelhurst, Mississippi, that's for sure, but I've learned a few tricks since then," Emmett conceded modestly. They sat chatting about hometowns while I ate quietly, looking at everybody. There was something weird going on. Why would Justin Taylor's Miguel just show up with my brother out of the blue? John and Brian kept exchanging glances like they were waiting for a sign. After several minutes of this, and giving everyone enough time to do justice to Em's food, I decided I'd had enough. I pushed away from the table and stood up.

"Which one of you wants to explain to me what is going on?" I asked pleasantly, enjoying the brief guilty looks on three of their faces before the masks dropped back into place. Emmett, God bless him, looked clueless, so he probably had no more of an idea what was really going on than I did. Knowing him, I bet he was already planning a salsa competition at Babylon tonight. He did love having something or someone to plan a theme around.

"Well?" I cocked an eyebrow at the trio of culprits. Miguel took a deep breath.

"Do you remember a young singer they called the Silver Angel?"

I frowned. I really hated Edward's "angel" names and how everyone up in New York adopted them. "Please. Do you mean Steven? His name was Steven Elliott Frame. Sure, I remember him. He was Pete Jenson's friend. Well, and Angel's friend too. Good counter-tenor. Kind of wild. Dropped out of school to become one of Edward's boys and party. I heard something about reconciliation with his parents since he went home, wherever that was. Somewhere in Vermont, I think. Never heard of him again."

"That apparently isn't quite what happened, Danny," John's voice was tense.

"What do you mean? That's what Angel told me." I had a sick feeling in my stomach. Soon enough, after I heard the whole story from Miguel, with John filling in what he'd been able to learn through Michelle's contacts and our cousin Dennis, who worked in New York as a detective, I was feeling a hell of a lot worse.

"God damn it!" I threw my chair across the room as I stood up. It wasn't so much learning that Angel lied; I was almost immune to that after all this time, but George's involvement...that was what really upset me. I couldn't believe that. Luke always said I could trust George. Implicitly. I did trust George. I stood looking out the balcony. I really didn't feel like looking at their pitying faces.

"How do you know he was being drugged by George? Other than what Pete and the others said? Couldn't he have been taking something himself? Steven was a fucking wild teenager, out to try everything he could and he took everyone for everything he could, not unlike a certain other person I could name."

Well, that comment wasn't going to win me points with Brian or Miguel, Emmett either probably, but it was true. I ran my hands through my hair, pulling out the tieback, trying to calm down, as I kept my back to the others. Thinking back, I tried to remember how everyone acted when they told me about "Silver." The funny thing was, no one did tell me about him, now that I looked back on it. I had asked when I got back to town, wondering what had happened to the kid, especially since Angel had asked me to call Pete and tell him he was out of control. I remember that she gave me an evasive answer the next time we spoke. She said he was doing better, nothing really specific, and when I asked again a few weeks later, it was like no one wanted to talk about him. Damn, I wish I'd been paying closer attention to it all, but I left for France right around then. With George's strong encouragement, actually. Fuck. George had looked like shit back then but I figured Edward was just running him ragged.

"Calm down, Danny, throwing things doesn't help, nor does yelling at us or insulting Taylor." John was right behind me and put his hands on my shoulders, his voice level. I hadn't realized he had moved to stand behind me. Must have zoned out. "With the extra information you just gave us, we can do more checking into the evidence given at the time of the restraining order, and possibly even the medical records can be obtained. Miguel didn't know what state Frame was from or what Pete's last name was. He felt awkward asking, obviously. I'd like to be able to locate this Steven, find out where he is today and how he's doing. Physically and emotionally. Maybe he did just go home after an epileptic seizure. Maybe Angel didn't know any more than she told you and maybe your friend George didn't give him anything but it's worth checking out, given that Brian and Miguel both think Justin's been acting progressively stranger over the past couple of months."

I took some deep breaths and tried to center myself. The others were quiet. I turned and looked at Brian, although my question was directed at all of them. "What if you find out that Steven did take something else? Or rather, was being given something else? What do you want to do next? It still doesn't get you any closer to getting Taylor out of there, does it? He won't see Edward for what he is unless he's forced to. None of them ever do. He won't believe you if you tell him that some kid was drugged unknowingly six years ago. I have a hard time believing it and I knew the kid. If Taylor isn't following Edward's rules, then I agree with Miguel, he isn't safe. Edward isn't rational and he isn't someone to play games with. He won't take kindly to someone cheating on him that he is supporting. He isn't you, Brian." Emmett winced, and Miguel looked slightly shocked, but Brian just looked at me stone faced. "I'm sorry, but this isn't the time to mince words. There is a reason Taylor thinks he can get away with this kind of behavior when in most circles, the players know how the game is played. Miguel knows the score, and he's been smart enough not to fuck Justin if I have a read on him. Or at least, he's been trying to be smart." Miguel nodded. Brian and John looked surprised. I looked at Miguel. "Tell them why you didn't."

Miguel looked uncomfortable. I rolled my eyes. "Personal attraction issues aside, Miguel, why wouldn't you touch Taylor with a ten foot dick, and why were you unhappy that Juan was involved with him, you can't fool me that you weren't. I know people in New York too."

The handsome New Yorker took a deep breath, then confessed, "I didn't want Juan to have anything to do with Simon or by extension, Justin, because it's known in the clubs and on the street that you don't touch one of Simon's boys. You do, you get hurt…badly. What Juan did with Justin and Simon was different; it was by the big man's invitation, so that was fine. I was pissed off when I heard about it because it smacked of hustling but I figured it would cool the friendship between Juan and Justin, so it would be okay. Instead, Juan felt sorry for Justin. He got me involved more, and when I saw how Simon went to such lengths to remove Juan from New York, when any idiot could see there was no threat there to him, that the two of them were really just fuck buddies, with the emphasis on the buddies part, it got me worried. It was like he didn't want Justin to have any contacts outside his place at all. That was unusual. Then when I learned of the connection to you," Miguel nodded his head at me, "through Kinney, I got more interested and kept up the contact with Justin. Then, I guess the puta kind of grew on me. But, no, I haven't been eager to sign my own death warrant yet, which sleeping with Simon's property would mean. So far, I've been lucky; I don't think Simon knows of my existence. I had a close call with him, but I faked being Juan and I don't think he guessed the truth."

I nodded. "So, you see, if Miguel, who has done so much for Justin hasn't been able to get him to listen to reason, he isn't going to be easy to remove from there. He isn't going to believe he's being drugged unless you can do a drug test on him, and you won't be able to do that unless we get right in there, in the studio with him. But, you don't necessarily have the time to wait out his year as you thought and Edward's game may well be different since he is treating Justin differently. He may not let Justin go after a year, first of all. And he may not be treating Justin well, nor may Justin be safe if he is taking drugs, or if he isn't playing by Edward's rules. I also don't think we can assume Edward didn't know all along that Justin was connected to Brian and that Brian was connected in some way to me. He may be using Justin to bring me to him, and there is no way to free Justin unless..."

"Unless what, baby?" Emmett was the first to ask me, as the others were still sitting there, rather stymied by my question. I think they'd gotten themselves so worked up about confronting me about Steven that they hadn't gotten past that point. For Miguel, making the trip down here was probably as far as he thought. But even if what they were saying about "Silver" were true, and in my gut, I knew the essence of it was, that didn't help much with Taylor. He was just as screwed-and screwed up-- as before. I thought of my promise to Jennifer Taylor to help her son if it were in my power to do so. I slumped back down in the chair that Em had picked up for me.

"Unless I do exactly what he has been plotting to achieve, and go up there willingly, eyes wide open, making myself the bait so Edward reveals exactly how much of a nutcase he is."

"No fucking way!" Brian exploded.

"Danny, you can't do that!" John kept his temper in check, but not by much. He shot Brian a warning glance and Bri sucked in his bottom lip. I almost laughed. He looked like he was sulking. I caught Emmett's eye and I could tell that he was amazed that John was able to get Brian to shut up. Such was the power of someone knowing you when you were still a skinny teenager, which even the mighty Kinney was...a long time ago. Brian could intimidate all of his friends, but for John, who was several years older when they met, and a kind of straight version of the same type of tough guy by that time, Brian was just like another younger brother to boss around. Brian didn't always allow it, but sometimes, like now, it worked. John turned back to me, his voice at its quietest.

"You know how that man affects you. He scares you, and for good reason, Danny. I don't need to remind you what he did. You are scarred because of him. It would be too dangerous for exactly the reason you stated, Edward Simon truly is a mental case, and there's no way you could reveal that to Justin Taylor without putting yourself at serious risk of harm, which is unacceptable." John shook his head. "We can't allow that."

"It isn't a question of what you and Brian will allow. I make my own decisions, John," I reminded him in just as quiet a voice. We stared at each other for a long moment.

"What would be your plan for doing that?" Miguel looked at me hopefully, ignoring the others. Brian glared at him while John rubbed his eyes tiredly. Em got up and poured him some tea. I think he'd been trying to get John to cut back on his million cups of coffee a day habit. Lots of luck. To my surprise, John actually starting sipping it as Brian started in on Miguel.

"It doesn't matter what type of plan he has. There's no way he's exposing himself to Simon. I'll go up and talk to Justin and try to get it through his thick head that this guy is dangerous. I'll haul his ass off for a urine test if I have to..."

"Brian, he's not a minor, and you're not his guardian. You know you can't do that and you'd ruin what relationship you do have with him if you tried," I pointed out patiently. "Lindsay was saying just the other day that she was asked by Simon's people to work on Justin's show since she was familiar with his work. She hinted around about wanting a piano player, wondering if my friend Sam would do it, but I know she really wanted me to volunteer, as Edward already mentioned that possibility at the Benefit. Vince got a call about it too, but he knew to say no. He called me to say that they offered to donate a large sum to the charity of my choice in addition to my fee. So, Edward is really pulling out all stops to get me up there for Justin's opening next month. If I do it, it allows us to be prepared, with plenty of protection for Justin and me. John and Jamie can be there, in addition to you, and Miguel, as well as cousin Dennis. Hell, we can have half our big New York cousins on back up if he tries anything. It is an opening, we can control who is there to some extent. And I don't care what you say, I trust George not to allow anything to happen to me. But if Edward does try something, we can catch him in the act, and prove to Justin just how sick he is. More than that, I can get him put away once and for all. I'm not a kid any more. I'm a man with my own influence now and I will press charges if he tries to harm me again."

I talked to them until I was blue in the face, but they wouldn't agree that I should accept the offer to play piano at Justin's opening for his gallery show. I left them arguing over it and went to meet Hunter for our weekly karate lesson. I'd had enough of Justin Taylor and Edward Simon for one day. For that matter, I was having trouble controlling my temper with Brian and John. I knew they cared about me, and their protectiveness arose from that, but the bottom line was, it was my life, and my choice to make. I was sick of running.

***********************************************

(Setting: Same Day, GLC; POV/Hunter)

"So, tell me again, why the fuck you want to go up to New York and make yourself a sitting duck for this guy who is, like, your crazed stalker? And don't expect me to think it's so little Sunshine will see the light and stop acting like a grade A asshole idiot, because one, that's never going to happen, two, that's not worth your time, and hell, three, that's not worth your exposing yourself to too much sun, much less a stalker."

I flopped down on the mat, exhausted. Memo to self, never work out with Danny when he's really flipped off at the world. I caught the water bottle he tossed to me before he sat down on the mat next to me and started doing stretches.

"What would I do without you to put things in perspective for me?" Danny laughed as he moved into a split. Damn, it was fun watching him do stretches. It was almost worth having him kick the shit out of me in sparring to watch him do his cool down. I should be doing that too, of course, but I was too wiped out. Of course, no sooner did I think that, then he was pulling my legs out into a v-shape and forcing me into a stretch. I moaned...and it was not the good kind of moaning either.

"You have a real sadistic streak, you ever notice that?" I asked him.

"Well, that works well then. It goes with my masochistic streak that you were just pointing out," he grinned back at me as he forced my head down to the mat. Now instead of staring at his crotch, I was staring at my own. And it fucking hurt, since every muscle in my body hurt. Why did I ever think I liked this guy?

"Let the kid up, O'Keefe, you're killing him. Not everyone is double-jointed like you are," a lazy voice drawled. My savior. Danny laughed and eased up the pressure on my back.

"Fine, you make him do some stretches, Brandon. I thought you were a firm believer in them."

"I am, but you are nuts today. I watched your work out. Head gently down to your knee, Hunter, hold for ten, you too, Danny." Brandon kneeled next to me and moved my head over to the side, instead of the harder center position Danny made me do. Nice Brandon, good Brandon. I gave him a grateful look and he smirked down at me.

"You will owe me. Next time the gay bashers come to town I fully expect you to defend my honor, and my beautiful body with all these new skills of yours. My muscles are purely decorative."

Danny snorted at that.  "It wouldn't hurt you to learn self defense as well," he told him.

"Yes, I believe it would. Hurt, that is. I've watched your lessons," Brandon replied in a pensive tone that made us both laugh. He'd moved my head to my other leg in the meantime and now we were on our final arm stretches. I was going to be glad to get this over with; Danny really had pushed it today. He also had not answered my question.

"Danny isn't always this bad. He's in a mood today because he has to play hero and he won't explain why," I shared with Brandon, figuring he'd help in getting Danny to open up or really lose his temper. Either way, I would get more information out of him. If he lost his temper with me, he would be sorry and tell me later when he apologized. One way or another, I would find out what was bugging him.

"So, who you saving this week? Kinney or his blond twink?"

Danny glared at me. He flopped down flat on the mat. "What makes you think either of them has anything to do with it, Brandon?" Brandon leaned back on his elbows and gave Danny a steady look. The two of them had the strangest friendship. Of course, Brandon had nothing but strange friendships, including his with me, I guess. He was one strange person. He kept people at even more of a distance than Brian, and it was only the fact that Danny and I refused to be kept at arm's length that made him give up on keeping us there. Emmett was probably his only other real friend. Brian tolerated him for Danny's sake.

"Well, Hunter sounds disapproving, so my guess is, it's Taylor, since the kid approves of you and Kinney. Also, there is a hot looking New Yorker being seen around Liberty with Emmett today, and it's my guess he has something to do with Kinney and Daphne's big adventure in the City a few weeks ago that everyone was talking about. Tell me if I'm getting warm."

"Everyone knows about that? How?" Danny was frowning.

"Novotny. Radio free Liberty Avenue. His mother found out, and she told her son, and then he told everyone. Whoever isn't told something by one is told by the other," Brandon told him. "I first heard about it in the baths, but it was talked about everywhere. Schmidt's friend, the drug counselor, what's his name again? Burke?"

"Blake..." Danny grinned. Trust Brandon to start picking up Brian's bad habits. The name thing was one of them he'd adopted lately.

"Yeah, he was in the diner one day and trying to hush it up but he's too nice and polite to be successful. Kinney came in and everyone shut up. Then the Blake guy tried to tell him that the word was all over the street about it but Kinney misunderstood him, thought he was trying to gossip about it and froze him out, poor guy."

Danny winced. I did too. Blake was pretty sensitive. Brian probably shot him down harshly. He still hadn't forgiven him fully for the Ted overdose incident, although he's fairly decent to him around the rest of the gang. I wasn't around then but I'd heard about it. It was hard to imagine somber Blake as a meth addict.

"Anyway, since we all know I'm right and we're all one big happy fag family, no point in keeping secrets.... which I, by the way, do keep, so you can tell me and it won't go any further. What stupid thing are you going to do now for Taylor since your big touching number at the benefit didn't convince him to come running home to Kinney. Really, O'Keefe, I've been meaning to ask you, a Meatloaf song? Couldn't you have come up with something better than that? I'd have gone running back to New York and my billionaire too. You saved Jerome Kern for yourself and gave him Meatloaf? No fucking wonder you got Kinney and Taylor left with the crypt keeper!"

Danny was grinning by the end of Brandon's speech, which was all the funnier since he spoke it in his usual deadpan.

"Well, clearly I owe it to Taylor then, to rescue him from said crypt keeper," Danny suggested, "Since it's my fault he's still with the man. Had I chosen my songs more carefully, perhaps sung Schwartz's Meadowlark, he would have decided to stay with the 'beautiful young man' instead of 'the rich old king'...or queen, as the case may be." Danny gave a half smile.

"You do sing that well." Brandon agreed. "But I'm sure it hasn't escaped Hunter's notice, tenacious little devil that he is, just as it hasn't escaped mine, that you aren't answering his question. Why are you helping Taylor? All kidding aside, point of fact is, you didn't owe it to him to rescue him at the benefit either. I was never clear on why in hell you would go through that charade when you and Kinney had just gotten back together. I've spent some time in New York, you know, and while I don't want to bring up unpleasant topics, I'm aware of the stories of Edward Simon and his 'angels.' I've also heard of his obsession with the 'Dark Angel.' Hell, they tell it to gai boi dancers at Juilliard to scare us into not breaking curfew."

I saw Danny's hand tighten around his water bottle. Brandon's eyes flickered as he glanced down at that white knuckled grasp and then away again. His voice softened as much as I'd ever heard it. "Tell me you aren't going to go up there, Danny. The word is that Simon has gotten even crazier as the years have gone by. That he even makes his angels..." He looked at me and shut up.

"That he makes them find guys who look like me and fuck or be fucked by them in front of him." Danny finished it for him. Ewww. "Yeah. I've heard that too. I wasn't sure if I believed it but I thought of that rumor when I met Miguel today. His twin brother was one of those guys. He's an actor and dancer, and last time I saw him, he wore his hair longer than Miguel, so I can see a resemblance if you ignore the eye color. We're the same basic height and build, and coloring. If Justin didn't have a clue as to exactly what Edward was looking for, I'm sure he thought he was bringing home just what the wacko ordered when he brought his friend Juan home for a threesome. Instead, it apparently got Juan a one-night stand, and as soon as Edward saw that Justin had made a real friend, someone who cared what was happening to him, he got Juan out of town. Fortunately, he didn't know Juan had a brother to keep an eye out for Justin."

"Good, then you let the brother look out for Justin and you stay here, where it's safe." I put in my two cents worth. I'd seen some real sickos in my hustling days, not least of whom was that killer cop. This Simon sounded like the genuine article. Danny had no idea that those types really would kill you as soon as fuck you.

"The kid is right, Danny. Taylor isn't alone and it's more dangerous for you than for anyone else. You're the object of this guy's obsession. Hell, pretty much everyone in the arts in New York, everyone gay in the arts in New York, knows this, and..."

"And as a consequence I've had to avoid New York for most of the past ten years. Edward Simon goes free and I live in hiding. Where's the justice in that?" Danny turned and looked at us both intensely. All trace of humor was gone.

"I'm not doing this for Justin Taylor...maybe I would do it for him, or for the other people Edward has hurt over the years, but I don't have to ask myself that question. I know that I'm tired of living like this. Tired of letting that bastard have any say in what I do with my life. He sits back like a fucking puppet master, and I can feel him pulling strings. Sure, I know he wants me to go up there, and he thinks I'm playing into his hands. But the thing is, I'm going into it eyes wide open, and expecting him to try something. Fuck, I want him to try something so he can be caught and put away this time and the whole long nightmare over. I don't want to be looking over my shoulder any more for his photographers, or worrying that he's going to have someone jump me in an alley, or God forbid, kidnap Briana to get to me. I want him gone. Somehow, I have to get Brian and my brother to understand this so they'll support me and not make it harder. But one way or another, with or without them, I'm going to be up there next month, and I'm going to get Edward Simon to show his true colors. Then, I'll finally be free of him."

Brandon looked over Danny's shoulder. "I don't think you're going to have any trouble convincing your two keepers after that speech."

I looked around, as did Danny. Neither of us had noticed Brian and Danny's brother John enter the work out room. They were dressed ready for a karate workout, but at the moment they had matching stunned expressions on their faces. Danny got to his feet...much more gracefully that I did, of course.

"I didn't hear you two come in...I was going to come find you and..." Danny paused.

"Come here." Brian held his arms out and Danny stepped into a hard hug. His brother looked a little lost but then Brian stepped back and allowed him in on the hugging, which kind of surprised me. That O'Keefe was kind of intimidating and not the most touchy feely of guys. But he did pull Danny into a brief hard hug before letting him go back to Brian's arms.

"I guess we should talk," John said quietly. The three of them excused themselves and walked off.

"Did you orchestrate that somehow?" I whispered to Brandon, who was looking especially smug.

He just gave me one of his smirks, before saying under his breath, "Saw them getting dressed in the locker room and heard them talking about the situation, so maybe."

"I don't agree with what he's doing, but I do think it's his choice to make. Ten years is a long time to have a sword hanging over your head, unless you're Damocles. Go on and shower, I'll buy you a burger at the diner and you can tell me all about Damocles, boy genius."

"Okay, give me five minutes."

"Make it ten and wash that hair."

I just grinned at him.

*******************************************

(Evening of the same day; Babylon; POV/Brian)

"Well, what do you think of 'Salsa Night' at Babylon?" Emmett grinned happily as he waved his Margarita at me.

"I think you're utterly impossible, Honeycutt, and totally predictable." I told him, shaking my head. Somehow, since the morning, Emmett had gotten in touch with Ted, and transformed the interior of the club into a Mexican themed nightclub, with a salsa band, and food and drink specials to go along with it. I had asked Danny why he was wearing tight black slacks and a red sleeveless silk shirt with black dance shoes to the club tonight and he told me he was working on a hunch. Miguel was in a similar outfit, but with a gold shirt, and the two of them were currently dancing a salsa that had the whole crowd going wild. They had danced a few dances with some women in the crowd, but now were dancing together in a way that was beginning to bother me. I hated feeling jealous. Damn, but that Mexican could dance. He looked good out there with Danny. The two of them were moving together sinuously, every inch of their bodies touching practically, drawing the eyes of every man, and women, in the room. Even the munchers were drooling.

"Ready to go cut in, Kinney? Before you combust up here on the catwalk?"

"Berman." I turned to give him a scathing putdown, but then looked him over. He gave me a cocky smile and leaned in to whisper in my ear, pulling my head down slightly to do it.

"One of these days you can drop the name thing…it gets old and you wouldn't want people to think it's a sign of advancing old age on your part, now would you?" I glared at him but he just ignored it. Fucker. He just continued with that cocky smirk of his. "I happen to know they're switching to a rumba next, and I also know you can do that dance...it's just like a hotter form of waltzing, which you do very well. Plus, your man would much rather be dancing with you, and I want to dance with the New Yorker, so let's go get what we both want, okay? You know we'd look pretty good together out there. Or, you could go out on the floor with Honeycutt, God bless him, and make do with that praise Jesus move of his."

I shuddered. I appreciated Emmett, but Brandon was right...better to fight fire with fire, and hot dancing with a hot dancer. "Come on, but I lead."

"Of course...you're taller," he murmured.

For all that I was leading, it was his skillful dancing that had us within feet of Danny and Miguel within a few minutes. I found that dancing with him was almost as easy as dancing with Danny. He too made it seem like he was following when he was really subtly leading me in the moves of a dance I had learned years earlier, but which were coming back to me quickly. Danny grinned to see us join them on the dance floor and the switch was very easily made, so that Brandon was soon rumba'ing to his heart's content with Miguel, who looked pleased enough with the substitution, and I soon had Danny in my arms again. Where he belonged.

Not long after, the music switched to a slow dance, and I could pull him even closer. He rested his head on my shoulder as he wrapped his arms around my neck.

"So...one problem with those two," he whispered with a laugh in his voice.

"What's that, in case I should happen to care at some point in the future?" I raised an eyebrow as he tugged on my hair in punishment.

"I think they're both avowed tops...could lead to a disappointment later." Danny grinned up at me. "Maybe we should warn them before they get too far along in their flirtation."

I looked over at them. "I think Miguel is flexible...and Brandon would bottom with the right motivation. I'm guessing that they'll take turns, and each will close his eyes and pretend he's with you tonight."

"Brian, that's gross. And Brandon looks nothing like me."

"No, that's why the eyes have to be closed. Duh. But he does move like you, and his body is very...limber," I smirked down at Danny. "I could be wrong. It's highly likely they'll pretend they're with me. That's okay, I'm used to it, it's been my cross to bear for years," I sighed.

"You're a pig," he laughed again before resting his head back down on my chest.

"But I'm your pig," I reminded him.

"True, and I wouldn't want it any other way." I tightened my arms around him as he tipped his head back, looking at me. "Danny, I should have understood sooner, and been more supportive, I'm...."

He kissed me, silencing my apology. Pulling away, he asked, "Do you understand now?"

I nodded.

"And will you be there next month in New York, looking out for me?"

I nodded again, a faint smile tugging at my lips. It was met by one of his dimpled ones.

"Then I don't see the problem. You understood plenty soon enough, pretty much as soon as I figured it out myself, and you're supporting me when I need you to be. No need for you to be sorry. It's going to work out fine...you'll see. Let's just enjoy our dance and forget about everything else for now."

"Sounds like a plan."

I pulled that hard body against mine and vowed that I wouldn't let anything hurt him…least of all, Edward Simon.

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