Brian did not go back to the mayor's office for several days.  He said he needed some time to recover, and secretly he told Justin that he didn't want anyone to see him with his face all black and blue once again.  He jokingly said he had a reputation and standards for his appearance that he had to uphold.  Justin knew there was a lot of truth in the joke.

 

Cynthia brought him a stack of reports to read.  She insisted on coming in and making sure for herself that Brian was all right.  Brian could see her blanch when she saw the condition of his face.

 

"Does it hurt?" she asked.

 

He made a face.  "Only when I laugh."

 

"Want me to kiss it and make it better?" she volunteered and he made an even worse face.  She saw him grimace in pain.

 

"No thanks," he said and tried to smile. 

 

She knew he would appreciate her treating him as she always did, not making a fuss or being upset at what she saw.  "You'd think they could pick on some other part of your body instead of that grumpy old face of yours."

 

"You mean my classically beautiful, chiseled face, don't you?" he teased.

 

That was exactly what she meant, but she would never admit that to him.  "So when do you think you might start coming in to the office again?"

 

"Day after tomorrow maybe," he said. 

 

"Are you sure?  You could stay off a little longer.  I'll bring you whatever you need.  In fact I could work from here if you want me to."

 

"Do I look that awful?" Brian asked her.

 

"You don't look awful at all.  I'm so happy you're alive that I wouldn't care what you look like and I'm sure nobody else will either."

"Gee, thanks … I think."

 

"You know what I mean," she stammered.

 

"I know.  I'll be back in a couple of days and I don't need you here.  Just hold the fort for me at the office."

"Will do, boss," she said and got her coat to leave.

 

As she pulled open the loft door he said, "Thanks, Cynthia.  I do appreciate the concern."

 

She smiled and pulled the door closed behind her.

 

Brian looked at the stack of reports Cynthia had brought.  He knew he should start on them, but he didn't want to.  There was something more important he needed to know about.

 

He flipped through his stack of business cards and found the one he wanted.  He dialed the number and told the person on the other end to whom he wished to speak.  She put him through.

 

"Carl?" he said when he heard the familiar voice.  "I need to talk to you.  Could you come to the loft to see me some time today?  That would be great."

Brian hung up.  He hoped Carl Horvath would be able to supply the answers he wanted.  He'd be there in a couple of hours and he had plenty of work to do while he waited for the policeman to arrive.  He opened the first report and with a sigh began reading.  He hoped he could stay focused on the report and not let his mind wander to Kip Thomas.

 

When Carl arrived to see him, it was a little after noon.  Brian realized the detective was giving up his lunch hour to accommodate the mayor, so he had a couple of sandwiches and a pot of coffee ready.  They sat down at the dining room table.

 

"You didn't have to make me lunch, Mr. Mayor," Carl said.

 

"I told you to call me Brian," he was told.  "I want to get some information from you and I thought we could both eat while we talked."

 

Carl smiled.  He had grown to like Brian a lot since he had become mayor.  He no longer thought of him as one of Debbie's "lost boys".  He thought of him as a man who needed his help and protection.  He only knew some of what Brian had been through, but he had learned to respect this man and the backbone that was becoming more and more evident to him.

 

Carl took a bite of the chicken sandwich that Brian had made from the leftovers of Justin's dinner last night.  "This is good," Carl said.  "I didn't know you could cook."

"I can't, but I do know how to butter bread and fill it with Justin's chicken."

Carl smiled again.  "So I guess you want to know what's happening with Kip Thomas."

 

Brian nodded.  "Are you going to nail the fucker?" Brian asked.

 

"Without a doubt.  Phydeau caught him red handed in your office.  We have his print from the car that hit you.  He doesn't have a leg to stand on."

"But what about the Stockwell connection?"

"That's a different issue," Carl said with a frown.  "So far he refuses to admit any connection between them.  He refused our offer of a reduced charge if he gave up our illustrious chief of police.  He just won't bite."

"Shit!" Brian responded.

 

"Exactly," Carl agreed.  "We're going to keep working on him, and keep looking into any possible connections, a meeting where they were seen, phone records…"

 

"Good.  I know they were working together."

"What makes you so sure?" Carl asked wondering why Brian seemed so confident in his statement.

 

"I asked Kip."

"You what?"

"I was trying to keep him busy, keep his mind occupied when he had me trapped in the office.  So I brought up anything that might fluster him or catch him off guard."

"What did he say?"

"It was more what he didn't say.  He didn't seem all that surprised that I asked the question and he didn't deny it.  He should have had a very different reaction if it was untrue."

 

"So you're sure he and Stockwell are working together?"

"Absolutely!"

"Well, as I said, we'll keep digging, but I'm not optimistic."

"As one policeman to another, you think Stockwell's too smart?" Brian asked.

 

"I think he's too savvy in the way we would track any connection, and he'd make sure those tracks aren't there."

"Isn't there anything we can do?"

 

Carl shook his head.  "I won't give you false hope.  It doesn't look good."

Brian stood up and paced the loft, his lunch forgotten.  Carl finished his sandwich and coffee and got up to leave.

 

"Thanks for lunch.  I'll keep you posted.  We'll do our best to nail the bastard."

"I know, Carl, and thanks for all your help."

"Just don't do anything rash."

 

Brian closed the door behind Detective Horvath and sat down to think out what he was going to do.

 

                                                              -----

 

Brian watched out the window of the loft until he saw the cab pull up.  He tugged the hat low over his face and threw on his leather jacket.  He quickly locked the loft door and ran down the stairs.  Once in the taxi he gave the driver the address and sat back running through in his mind what he was going to do.

 

He got out of the cab in front of City Hall.  He pulled his hat lower and walked quickly through the lobby.  Nobody paid him much attention.  That didn't make him feel very secure about his own safety if anybody could walk unchallenged into the building.  He would have to see what he could do about this state of affairs.

 

He rode the elevator to the third floor and stepped off.  He knew his way having traveled this path many times before.  He never hesitated at the reception area, just kept going with no one challenging him there either.  He pushed open the door to the office and saw the man sitting behind his desk.

 

"Hello, Jim," he said quietly.

 

"What the hell are you doing here?" Stockwell asked in surprise.

 

"I thought you might like to see the results of your handiwork."

"What … what are you talking about?"

That little hesitation spoke volumes as far as Brian was concerned.  "Don't you want to see what Kip Thomas did to me?" Brian asked and pulled the hat from his head.  The bruises on the side of his face were still very prominent.

 

Jim Stockwell stared at him apparently at a loss for what to say.

 

"Don't you like what you see?" Brian asked in his most sarcastic voice.  "Although I'm sure you'd much rather be looking at me lying on a slab in the morgue."

"Get out," Stockwell said trying to pretend to resume his work.

 

"I'm not finished yet, Jim."

"Yes you are."

"Oh no, not so fast.  I want to know why you would agree to work with a sleaze ball like Kip Thomas.  Or are you two cut from the same cloth?"

Brian watched as Jim Stockwell rose from his chair.  He had seen the man this angry only once before, the night he had found him and Justin fucking at the loft.  Stockwell leaned forward over his desk and spat out the following, "Get the fuck out of my office, you goddam fag!"

"Tsk, tsk, Jim.  Such language and such homophobic comments!  I'm surprised you could work with Kip.  He's a fag too, or didn't you know?"

 

Brian watched as the blood vessel in Stockwell's temple throbbed visibly.  He thought the man might have a stroke on the spot.  He should only be so lucky.

 

"I don't have to listen to this shit!"  Stockwell picked up his phone to call for help.

 

"Not yet!" Brian said as he closed the distance between them and pressed the phone plunger to cut the connection.  "You call someone and I'll see that you are on the front page of every newspaper in the city."

"What…what do you mean?"

"I may not have definitive proof that you were working with Kip, but I know you were.  I'm not above telling the papers what I heard Kip say in my office about your bargain with him."

"Bargain?"  Stockwell's eyes bulged out.  "He never said anything.  He wouldn't!"

 

"You weren't there.  There were only the two of us and only we know what was said.  Who do you think the public is going to believe, the mayor or a convicted felon?"

"You wouldn't dare lie!" Stockwell said with almost a whine in his voice.

 

"Just watch me, Jim," Brian threatened.

 

"Why are you doing this?"

"Violence seems to be the only language you understand.  You've done your best to take me out and I'm still standing.  But I'm getting a little sick of the hospital visits.  This stops here and now or I go to the press."

 

"You mean you won't if I say nothing else will happen to you."

 

Brian grinned.  This guy was such a dumb fuck when you got right down to it.  "Yes Jim, that's what I mean.  I'm not a liar by nature, unlike some of us.  But I'll do it if you force me."

"Okay, okay.  Truce," Stockwell said in a low voice.

 

Brian wanted to spit in his face.  Instead he turned on his heel, pulled his hat low over his eyes and stalked out of the office.  He made his way to the elevators and quickly got one.  When it happened to be empty he leaned against the wall and let out a long breath.  He realized his knees were shaking.

 

As soon as he arrived at the lobby he hurried out of the building.  Someone was just getting out of a cab and he jumped in giving the driver the address of the loft.

 

                                                              -----

 

When Justin arrived home from school he found Brian reading reports.  He asked how his day had been.

 

"Cynthia brought me these and checked out that I am still alive and kicking."

"Did you pass inspection?"

"I think so.  She even volunteered to come here and work out of the loft if I needed her."

"She's great.  What would you ever do without her?"

"I don't want to have to find out."

"Should I order some takeout or should I try to make something out of last night's leftovers?" Justin asked.

 

"Takeout," Brian replied.  "There's no leftovers … left."

"Oh, why not?"

"Order some food and I'll tell you."

 

Justin called in an order and Brian finished up the paragraph he had been reading.  When he had ordered the food, Justin grabbed a couple of beers and joined Brian on the couch.

 

"So what did you do with my leftovers?" Justin asked with a grin.  "Are you secretly pigging out?"

"No, twat," Brian said with a grin.  "I had company and made him a sandwich for lunch."

"Him?"  Justin wasn't sure he liked the sound of that.

 

Brian grinned.  He was going to let Justin go on thinking he had been entertaining some hot, hungry hunk, but then he thought better of it.

 

"Yes, Carl Horvath."

"Oh," Justin giggled.  "That's not quite who I was imagining."

"I guessed as much, and I was going to let you stew, but you've been so nice to me since I was wounded that I just couldn't in all good conscience do that to you."

"You are so full of shit!" Justin said with another giggle.

 

Brian gave him a kiss. 

 

"So what did Carl have to say?" Justin asked.

 

"They're sure they've got a good case against Kip.  He should be put away without any problem."

"That's good, but what about the Stockwell connection."

"Not so good.  Kip won't admit to any connection.  Carl says that he will keep looking for evidence that links them, but he doesn't think they'll find any."

 

"Why, is Stockwell that smart?"

"He's a dumb fuck, but he is a policeman.  Carl thinks he will have covered his tracks too well."

"Shit!" Justin responded.

 

"My sentiments exactly."

"So what can be done?"

"Basically nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Yep."

"Well, that sucks big time."

"Carl says he'll keep looking, but I don't think they'll find anything."

"Are you worried?"

 

"Not really.  We've taken away Stockwell's right hand man.  He will have to be more careful in the future."

"You sound pretty confident about your safety."

"I am."

Justin looked at him carefully.  Something was different.  He wasn't sure where this confidence was coming from.  "You're going to keep Chuck and Phydeau, aren't you?" Justin asked suddenly afraid that Brian might think he was totally out of the woods.

 

"They stay."

Justin breathed a sigh of relief.  "Good, but I still don't understand why you think Stockwell won't do anything else."

"It's just a feeling I have," Brian said before capturing Justin's lips in a long, sensual kiss.

 

It was time to redirect his partner's attention.  He didn't want to have to explain what he had done today.

 

He felt Justin relax into his kiss and pressed more insistently against the boy's lips.  When he finally let him up, Justin gasped for air and asked, "Are you trying to distract me?"

Shit!  Sometimes he was too smart for his own good.  "Of course not," Brian said trying to project his most innocent face.  "I just felt the sudden urge to kiss you.  Those lips of yours are so hard to ignore."

Justin studied his partner.  He was sure something was up, but it didn't seem likely that Brian was going to tell him.  "Did you go out today?" Justin asked suddenly, fishing for information.

 

"Where would I go?  You have the car."

"There is Chuck, and taxis and buses."

"Buses?  Are you nuts?"

"No, some of us mere mortals do have to ride them."

"Not anymore."

 

Justin had the distinct impression that Brian was trying to answer his questions without really answering them, and without lying to him.  He was about to pursue his line of questioning when the buzzer announced that their food had arrived.

 

Brian breathed a sigh of relief as his partner got up to buzz the man up to the loft.  He might be able to get through the night without telling Justin what he had done.  He knew he would get shit if Justin ever found out.

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