Chuck dropped Brian off in front of City Hall.  It was early, before seven o'clock.  Brian had called just after six and told Chuck he wanted to go in early.  He still had a lot of reports to read.  Chuck had gotten him to his office as quickly as possible.

 

Brian noticed the guard was just coming on duty as he entered the building.  He assumed he had just taken over from the night person.  He nodded at the man and caught the elevator up to his office.  He pushed the door open and walked across to his desk.

 

"Good morning, Mr. Mayor," a voice from behind him said.

 

Brian whirled around.  There sitting on his couch was Kip Thomas.  "You!" Brian said in disbelief.

 

"You remember me.  I'm flattered," said the smirking man.

 

"What the fuck are you doing here?  Get out!"

"Tsk, tsk!  Such an attitude," Kip smirked some more.  "We have unfinished business," he said losing the smirk and his voice taking on a much more threatening tone.

 

"We have no business," Brian said through gritted teeth.

 

"You still owe me for that sexual harassment suit," Kip said with a malicious grin.

 

"I owe you nothing," Brian spat out.  "In fact I'm going to call the police and have you arrested right now," Brian threatened reaching for the phone.

 

"Don't touch that," Kip ordered.

 

Brian turned to look at him and found a gun pointing directly at him.  "Isn't this a bit over the top?  Your normal weapons arsenal includes lawsuits or threats or a stolen car, but a gun?"

"You're going to pay for all the trouble you and your little twink have caused me."

 

"What do you mean?" Brian asked not liking the reference to his twink.

 

"I never knew who the little underage shit was that threatened to have me arrested for messing with him.  I figured you paid him or he was related to you.  Then, when you were running for mayor, there was this article in the paper about a bashing at some guy's prom.  And there in front of me was said little shit, and he was now your partner.  Did he tell you about letting me suck him off?"

Brian tried not to blanch, not to let this asshole rattle him, but the urge to wring this fucker's neck was almost too great.  "Get out!" Brian seethed.

 

"So, did it take you two long to plan that, to figure out how to trap me?" Kip asked.

 

Brian remained silent for a moment.  He could tell Kip wasn't going to leave until he had said what he came there to say.  He wondered if he had also come there to shoot him.

 

"Come on, man.  What's the story?  How stupid did you think I was?" Kip asked.

 

"I never thought you were stupid, Kip … till now."

"You fucking asshole!  You always think you're so bloody smart.  Well, we'll see how smart you are when you're dead!"  Kip stood up and waved the gun at Brian.

 

"You did excellent work at Ryder, but you were no more ready for that promotion than…"

 

"Shut the fuck up!  You are a lying son of a bitch!"

 

"Kip…" Brian tried to reason with him.

 

"I said shut up!  Now!"

Brian closed his mouth.  He could see there was no point in trying to reason with the man.  He was way beyond that point.  Now what he had to do was try to figure out how to stay alive until help came.  He was pretty sure Cynthia would arrive at the office in less than a half hour, maybe sooner, but he didn't want her to walk into the middle of this.  What could he do?

Kip had been watching him.  "Plotting how to get away?" he asked sarcastically.

 

Brian was surprised.  He had tried to keep his face from giving anything away.  Obviously he hadn't done a very good job of that.  "I was just thinking that my assistant will be here soon, and I don't want her caught in the middle of this."

 

Kip instinctively looked over his shoulder to see if she was there.  Brian took a step but Kip waved the gun again and said, "Don't!"

 

Brian held up his hands and stopped dead.  "Okay," he said quickly.

 

"Sit down in that chair," Kip said pointing the gun at one of the chairs in front of Brian's desk.  "Stay still and keep your hands where I can see them."

Brian sat down.  "What are you planning to do?" Brian asked trying to keep his voice level.

 

"Make you pay for everything you've done to me," Kip said through clenched teeth.

 

Brian felt his blood start to boil.  "What the fuck have I done to you other than tell you the truth?"

 

"What have you done?  What have you done?" Kip shrieked at him.  He looked like he was about to blow a blood vessel in his head.  "Are you so fucking stupid that you don't see that you have taken my job, my self-respect, my future?  I … have nothing left … except this," he said waving the gun in Brian's face.

 

Brian knew he had to try once more.  "Kip," he said keeping his voice low and level.  "You can still have a future.  You're bright.  You can get another job and fix all this."

"You fucking expect me to start over?  My reputation is ruined.  Nobody will hire me, and it's your fucking fault."

"But…" Brian started.

 

"Shut up!  Don't even try to cajole me.  It's way too late for that."

Brian realized he was getting nowhere and merely making Kip madder.  He decided to take a different tack.  "So how did you hook up with Stockwell?" he asked suddenly.

 

"What?" Kip looked surprised.

 

"You heard me," Brian replied.

 

"What makes you think I'm working with someone?" Kip asked trying to look nonchalant.

 

Kip's lack of denial told him almost as much as if he had admitted it.  "I know who my enemies are," Brian stated, "and he's the main one."

"I'm your worst nightmare," Kip insisted.

 

"Isn't there some old saying about protesting too much?" Brian asked.

 

"You don't know shit!" Kip said.

 

Brian merely smiled.  Kip looked ready to smash him in the face with the gun.  Brian decided he would be wise not to press it any further.  He was beginning to think it would be about time for Cynthia to arrive and he didn't know what to do to try to keep her safe.  He swiveled a bit in his chair so he was facing more towards the door.

 

"What are you doing?" Kip asked immediately.

 

"Just shifting positions.  It gets tiresome sitting the same way," Brian tried to make his movements seem logical.  He wanted to be able to see Cynthia if she came to the door and maybe be able to shout fast enough to warn her away.

 

Kip walked around Brian's desk so that he was facing the mayor.  That suited Brian fine.  It meant Kip's back was more or less to the door, more time for Cynthia to duck or escape before anything could happen.

 

"Don't think you're going to escape because you're not," Kip said getting in Brian's face.

 

"Then just do it," Brian dared him.  He was getting sick of this.

 

"When I'm ready," Kip responded.  "I'm making the decisions now.  I have the power." Brian grimaced.  "You don't like not being the one in control, do you?  I remember when you fucked me.  You were a control freak even in that.  Maybe I should fuck you before I finish you off.  How'd you like that?"

 

"You're not man enough," Brian sneered. 

 

He heard the whoosh as the barrel of the gun connected with the side of his head.  For a moment he wasn't aware of the pain, and then his head felt like it was exploding.  He groaned and sank back against the chair barely conscious. 

 

Suddenly the room exploded more.  There was noise and shouting and movement all around him.  He tried to focus, but his eyes wouldn't cooperate.  And then Justin was holding him and he moaned leaning into the strong embrace.

 

"Brian, can you hear me?" Justin's voice asked.  "Brian?"

"Yeah," he managed to get out clinging to his partner and to consciousness.

 

"Stay still.  Paramedics are on the way," Justin told him.

 

"No," he moaned.  He didn't want to go to the hospital again.

 

"Be quiet and stay still," Justin repeated.  "I won't leave you."

That was the best thing that Brian could hope for.  His eyes closed and he didn't remember anything else until he woke up in a hospital bed with Justin holding his hand.  His head pounded like a son of a bitch.  He blinked and prayed for death.

 

"Brian," Justin whispered looking at him through worried eyes.  "Can you hear me?"

"Yes."  He hoped that was audible.  "Hurts."

Justin pushed the buzzer for a nurse.  When she arrived, she took Brian's pulse and looked into his eyes. 

 

"He's in pain," Justin told her.

 

"I'll get the doctor.  We have to be careful.  This is his third concussion in a short time."  She bustled out.

 

"I'm so sorry," Justin whispered.  "I should have got there sooner."

 

Brian didn't know what Justin was talking about and it was too much trouble and pain to try to ask.  He closed his eyes.  He felt Justin brush his brow with his hand.  It felt good and he sighed.  Justin must have understood that he liked him to gently rub his forehead because he continued his soothing strokes. 

 

Brian felt something damp hit his face.  He forced his eyes open to see tears rolling down Justin's cheeks and dripping down onto him.  He tried to speak to find out what was wrong, but the doctor charged in.  He gave Brian the once over, as Justin turned away to hide his tears and wipe his face.  The doctor asked some questions to which Brian was able to give monosyllabic answers.  He administered a shot and was gone.

 

Brian closed his eyes.  He could feel whatever the doctor had given him taking effect.  It made the pain fade into the background, but he knew he would be asleep soon.  He forced his eyes open and did his best to smile at Justin.  The young man had resumed his seat at the side of the bed.  He wasn't crying any longer, but he looked forlorn.

 

"It's all right," Brian whispered squeezing the hand that held his.  That was all he could get out before he fell asleep.

 

He finally awoke some hours later and almost felt human.  Justin was still holding his hand, but had fallen asleep with his head leaned against the back of his chair.  His mouth hung partially open.

 

"I need to stop doing this to him," Brian thought.  He didn't know whether to awaken the young man or not, but he wanted to know what had happened.  He gently applied pressure to Justin's fingers.  He felt him stir and blink his eyes open.

 

"Brian," he said, "is something wrong?  Are you in pain?"

Brian tried to smile.  "Feel much better," he managed to get out.

 

"That's great," Justin said.  "Do you want a drink?"  Brian nodded and Justin held the straw in the glass of water.  "Just sip a little bit," Justin cautioned.

 

Brian drank a little and then sighed.  Justin set down the glass.

 

"What happened?" Brian asked.

 

"At the office?"  Brian nodded.  "Are you up to this?" Justin asked, concern written all over his face.  Brian nodded again.  "Okay, if you're sure," Justin said.  "After our little truth session last night, I thought I better add Kip Thomas to Phydeau's list of your enemies.  I called him as soon as you left and filled him in on what Carl had learned.  He kind of freaked and said he was going to call Chuck to make sure he didn't leave you alone at all.  I started to get this funny uneasy feeling and I jumped in the Corvette and headed to your office.  By the time I got there, Chuck had been up to your office and had seen Kip."

"He had?" Brian asked.  "I didn't see him."

"He was pretty sure neither of you had, but he called Carl and he was waiting for the police when I got there.  Phydeau arrived and he and I went up to your floor to keep an eye on things."

 

"You shouldn't have been up there," Brian said with a frown.

 

"Well I was, so too bad.  Anyway, we saw you shift around and get Kip to have his back to the door.  That was helpful."  Brian smiled a bit.  "But then he clobbered you with the gun and Phydeau launched himself into the office.  He smashed Kip to the floor and the gun went flying and he had Kip in some kind of hold.  Suddenly the police were there and Carl.  You were so groggy and I was afraid.  Finally the paramedics arrived and I rode with you to the hospital."

"Do you know what happened to Kip?"

"Not for sure, but I imagine he is being questioned.  I'm sure Carl will let us know."

 

"Is it all over?" Brian asked.

 

"All but Stockwell.  I don't know if Kip will implicate him."

"We can only hope."

"Yeah, if only he would, this nightmare might be over for good."

"Do you think we could ever be that lucky?" Brian asked.  Justin smiled at him and squeezed his hand again.  "When can I go home?"

 

"I think in the morning."

 

"That's a long way off.  It was barely dark.  What time is it?"

"Almost five o'clock."

"Couldn't I go home now?  I've done my sleeping and they've done their checking.  I feel better and I don't want to stay here."

 

"I'll go ask," Justin volunteered.

 

He returned in a few minutes with the doctor.  The doctor read Brian the riot act about what he could and couldn't do if he was released.  He said there were to be no more concussions.  Like Brian went out looking for them.  This one had been pretty minor, but he shouldn't have any more head injuries.  Brian promised he would do his best to avoid them.  He even said it with a straight face.  The doctor said he'd get the paperwork ready.  Justin called Chuck to come get them.

 

Chuck and Phydeau had the limo waiting as they came out of the hospital a little over an hour later.  Brian thanked both of them for saving his life.  They were duly modest about what they had done, saying it was their job.  Justin could tell that Brian was truly grateful, and so was he.

 

When they arrived at the loft, Brian told them he wasn't going to the office tomorrow.  He said he'd let them know when he needed them again.  Justin had almost expected him to say "if" he needed them again.

 

They rode up in the elevator in silence.  Justin had a feeling maybe Brian would want to quit as mayor again.  He hoped not, but he could hardly blame the man after all he had been through.

 

"Could you eat something?" Justin asked once they were inside the loft.

 

Brian shook his head and went up to the bathroom.  Justin put some toast in the toaster.  He thought Brian should take some food, especially since he would want some more pain medication before long. 

 

When the toast popped, he buttered it lightly, grabbed a bottle of water and took them to the bedroom.  Brian had put on some sweats and was looking at his face in the bathroom mirror.

 

"Why does everything happen to my face lately?" he asked.

 

"It could have been worse," Justin offered.

 

"I'm all black and blue down the side of my face … again."

"You look fine.  You always look great," Justin told him.  "Even battered you look better than ninety percent of the population."

 

"Only better than ninety percent?" Brian asked with a bit of a grin.

 

Justin was happy to see the touch of humor.  "All right, better than ninety-nine percent of the population."

Brian smiled his approval at these revised figures.

 

"Come eat a bit of toast and I'll give you your next pill."

 

Brian sat down on the bed and munched some of the toast.  He seemed to be thinking about something.  When he finished one piece, he said, "Justin, can I ask you something and get a no bullshit answer."

 

"Sure," Justin said seriously.  He thought Brian was going to say he would resign.

 

"Do you think I should quit?"

"Honestly, no, but only you know how much of this you can stand."

"Why not?  Why do you think I should stay?"

"Because you worked so hard to get here.  You have some great ideas, and I don't want Stockwell to win," Justin answered.

 

"I don't want to resign either," Brian said.

 

"Then don't."  Justin smiled at him.

 

"Can you take more of this?" Brian asked touching the side of his face tentatively.

 

"I can if you can."

"Then I'm staying."

 

"I like the sound of that," Justin said.

 

"Lie with me till I fall asleep?" Brian asked.

 

Justin snuggled into his arms.  Brian knew he could do anything as long as he had this wonderfully strong young man to do it with him.

 

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