Brian stared out the window of the loft. The federal election had been over for three days now, and the bitter taste in his mouth still lingered. He had heard the concession speech of John Kerry. He had listened to his words of hope and determination to make America a better place. But he was the loser and he would hold no real sway in events from here on out. He could say all the things he wanted, but he could make none of them happen.

And then there was the winner, the smug bastard from Crawford Texas who promises to do all the things that he's promised before, very few of which came to pass, and even fewer are likely to do so over the next four years. Hope he enjoys himself, because it will be a long, hard road.

And there were all the state votes about same sex marriage. All eleven of the states holding a referendum voted to ban gay marriage. Was that a kick in the head or what? The level of tolerance had somehow taken a nosedive, and all the marriages performed over the last months would probably be invalidated. Not that Brian really cared. He would never stoop to the lowly hetero tradition of marriage. It was not for him, or for Justin. They would make a life together and they didn't need society's approval for any fucking thing they did. Society could go screw itself. He didn't care one iota what anyone else thought.

But then there was that wrench in his gut as he thought about all that might have been but now would not be, probably not in his lifetime. It would have been nice to have equal rights and privileges just like every other citizen. It would have been nice to feel that he and every other gay man was accepted as a man without making any distinction as to sexual preference. And every gay woman too, even if they were dikes.

Brian ran his hand through his hair. This was worse than the run-up to his election. It was worse than the whole Stockwell "Make Pittsburgh Family Friendly" campaign. It was almost a national repudiation of everything that Brian was. He was glad he wasn't going to run again. He probably wouldn't be elected again in this political climate. Not that he really cared, because he didn't, except that at some basic level he really did.

He had learned a lot over the last two years. He had learned about having a social conscience and about making a difference in people's lives, but it didn't seem like the populace had learned anything from him.

He thought back to his face on the cover of Newsweek heralding the "winds of change". Those winds seemed suddenly to have blown away. He wondered how things could have gone so wrong. All the liberal ideas would be quashed by the current administration and the long term ramifications of the Supreme Court appointments almost took his breath away. He groaned.

"Brian," Justin said standing at the top of the stairs to the bedroom. He was wrapped in a sheet and looked so young and so innocent and so perfect. "Brian, it's three-thirty in the morning.

"I know."

"Come to bed."

"I can't sleep."

"I know the election was a bummer, but life goes on."

"Yeah," Brian snorted.

"Come on," Justin wheedled. "I'll help take your mind off it."

"Go back to sleep."

Justin sighed. "It's over. There's nothing we can do about it. You need to let it go."

"I thought things were different, that I had made a difference. Obviously I was delusional."

"You have made a difference and getting elected here in Pittsburgh was a major victory."

"And now, if I ran again, I couldn't even win. The winds of change are blowing the other way."

Justin drew in a quick breath. "You're not thinking of running again, are you?" Justin asked a little fearfully.

"What would be the point?"

"You are thinking about it," Justin accused.

"I'd like to rub their fucking noses in it and show them that it can be done," Brian declared.

"So you are thinking…"

Brian could hear the fear in Justin's voice. He knew he had put his partner through a lot since they had embarked on this adventure of running Pittsburgh. "No," he said quickly. "No, I'm not going to run again."

Justin let out a breath of relief. "That's good."

"You don't think I could get elected again, do you?" Brian asked finally turning to face Justin instead of talking to his faint reflection in the window.

"Actually, I'm worried you would get elected again," Justin said with a little grin.

"Liar."

"I'm not lying. I think you can do anything, you know."

"Just like Rage?" Brian asked.

"You know who Rage is based on, and that's exactly how I feel about you."

"It's not realistic. I can feel the change in the climate of the country."

"But you're not going to run again, so what does it matter," Justin said. "Right, Brian? Right?" he repeated when no answer came from his partner.

"Go back to bed."

"Not till you come with me."

"I'll be up in a few minutes."

Justin sighed and turned back towards the bed. He could see Brian standing in the same spot staring out into the blackness. And Justin knew that that blackness had taken over Brian's core. He had been shaken by the results of the election, and there was nothing Justin could do to change that. All he could do was let Brian ride out his pain and disappointment, and be there to pick up the pieces when Brian was through flagellating himself.

He just prayed that the man would not decide to run again. That would be something that Brian typically would do. When he saw an insurmountable challenge he had to take it on. And that was how he was looking at his re-election, as impossible. And that could mean that he would have to accept the challenge.

The real concern in all of this was Brian's feeling that the last two years had been wasted. He seemed to feel that he hadn't changed anything, let alone attitudes towards himself and other gays. Brian was taking it as a personal defeat, and that really worried Justin.

Justin snuggled down into the warmth of the bed wishing Brian was there draped all over him. That was when he slept best, when they both slept best. He would have to let Brian work this out on his own. Hopefully the man would pull out of his funk … soon.

-----

"Morning, Boss," Cynthia said as Brian passed by going into his office.

"Hm," was the only reaction.

"I'll bring your coffee right in," she called.

Brian went into his office without response, closing the door behind him.

Cynthia went to get the coffee. She actually missed the usual snarky comments that she would get from Brian. The last few days he had been so quiet, so … depressed. He seemed to be constantly thinking about something dark and important. She worried about him.

She carried the mug of carefully prepared coffee to his door, tapped once and opened the door.

"Brian," she said. He was nowhere in view.

"Leave it on the desk," said a voice from behind the door.

Cynthia turned to see Brian sitting on the couch. He never sat there. "Here," she said handing the mug to him.

"I said to leave the fucking thing on my desk." He refused to accept the mug she held out to him.

"Fine," she said depositing it in the center of his desk.

"You have a meeting with the transit commissioner in half an hour."

"Cancel it."

"What?"

"You heard me. Cancel it."

"But … he's probably on his way here right now."

"I don't give a fuck if he's standing outside the door. Cancel it."

"Sure … sure. Is there anything I can do? Anything you want?"

"To be fucking left alone! Get out."

Cynthia couldn't remember when Brian had ever been in a mood like this, but she knew better than to push him when he was tense and angry. She quickly walked out and closed the door behind her. She went to cancel Brian's meeting before the commissioner could arrive. She didn't want to have to explain to his face why Brian wouldn't see him, especially since she didn't know what the real reason was.

-----

Brian dragged his ass into the loft. He had done nothing all day but sit in his office and tell Cynthia that he was "in" to nobody. He had tried to read reports and had surfed the net a bit, but nothing had helped to bring his mind around to a functional level. He plain felt like shit.

As Brian opened the door, he could smell dinner already in the oven. He groaned inwardly. That meant that Justin was home and he would want to eat and talk and fuck, and Brian didn't think he was capable of any of those things.

"Hey," Justin said with a warm smile.

"Hey."

"Dinner should be ready in twenty minutes," Justin said.

"Not hungry."

"Brian…"

Brian made his way up the steps to the bedroom. He pulled off his clothes and dropped them on the floor in front of the closet. He pulled back the duvet and climbed into bed. He said a silent prayer that Justin would leave him alone.

"Brian, you can't keep going to bed and never sleeping."

"I can fucking do whatever I want. Piss off."

"This is the third day that you've done this. Please, get up and talk to me."

Brian pulled the duvet over his head and tried to shut out the persistent little shit who didn't know when to leave him alone.

"Brian…" Justin waited. He was about to repeat Brian's name when he thought better of it. He had tried for the last two nights to get Brian to talk and all he had been able to do was to anger Brian and cause him to retreat farther into himself. He decided to ignore Brian and see if that did anything.

Several hours later Justin had eaten his dinner, finished his homework, sketched for a while, watched some TV, and finally climbed into bed beside a partner that pretended to sleep and refused to speak to him.

Justin had not been in bed very long when Brian got up and went into the bathroom. When he came out, he walked down the steps and took up his familiar position in front of the windows staring out at the night sky. Justin wanted to scream at him, shake him until he returned to his old self, find him help, but he knew none of those things was likely to work. Brian would have to want help before it would do any good to try to provide it. Justin pulled up the covers and tried to sleep. What more could he do?

-----

Brian sat at his desk in the mayor's office. He refused to see anyone as he had for several days. Cynthia buzzed and Brian answered angrily, "I told you I will not speak to anyone and that includes Geoffrey."

"It's not Geoffrey. Mr. Langdon is here."

"Charles?" Brian asked. Charles Langdon had been responsible for Brian running for mayor. He had been his guide and mentor ever since. Brian hadn't seen much of him lately. He owned a large company in Pittsburgh and was one of the accounts that Brian was banking on if and when he and Justin opened their advertising company together.

"Yes, he wants to see you," Cynthia said gently.

"Um…" Brian wanted to turn him away, but even he couldn't be that rude. "Send him in."

Moments later the door to his office opened and Charles Langdon stepped inside. "Brian, I hear that you have been in a … funk," Charles said, never one to beat around the bush.

"And who the fuck has been talking to you?"

"Justin."

"Justin called you?" Charles nodded. "I'll kill the little fucker."

"He's worried about you, and hearing what he had to say, so am I."

"He should mind his own business."

"You are his business."

Brian glared at the floor not wanting to look into Charles' eyes. He knew the man was right, but there was nothing he could do about anything.

"Brian, I understand depression. I've been there," Charles said in his most sympathetic voice.

"You have?" Brian asked. "And who says I'm depressed?" Brian then demanded.

"Well, aren't you?"

"I … I suppose. I can't believe that fucking election. The moral majority is taking over everything, and that means that the bashings and beatings won't be far behind."

"You've lived through it once. This too shall pass."

"I'm not so sure."

"Then fight it."

"What? How the fuck do you think I can fight it? It's like the last two years meant nothing," Brian said shaking his head.

"How do you figure that? You're gay. You were duly elected mayor of a major city, being out and open about everything."

"And everything I stand for was repudiated in this election," Brian grumbled.

"Pennsylvania did not go to Bush, and it very well could have. I think maybe you had a small role in that."

"You do?" Brian asked with a little grin.

"I do."

"And then every state that voted about same sex marriage voted against it."

"That was a blow, but nothing really has changed. That's the way it was in all those states before. No gay marriages were allowed and they won't be now."

"And that's supposed to make me feel better?" Brian demanded.

"No, but I don't see the need for such despair."

"Despair!" Brian croaked. "I … I don't do despair."

"Get real, Brian. That's where your head has been for the last few days, at least according to Justin."

Brian glowered at Charles but didn't contradict what the man had said. "I feel like I need to do something, but there's nothing that can be done."

"You could run again," Charles stated.

"I … I promised Justin I wouldn't."

"I see. Well, let me tell you that if you want to run again you have my backing. But get Justin's approval first." Brian nodded and gave a small grin. "If you go back to advertising you've got my account."

"I appreciate that, Charles," Brian admitted.

"And if you want to really piss off the straight people who voted Bush back in, then make yourself the best mayor Pittsburgh has ever seen, or be the best ad exec in the country, or make Justin the happiest partner in the fucking universe. You can do any or all of those things, Brian. Don't doubt yourself."

Brian stared off into space for a few minutes or hours or seconds. He wasn't sure which it was. After a bit Charles cleared his throat bringing Brian back to reality.

"Sorry, Charles, I was thinking."

"More pleasant thoughts, I hope."

"Maybe … a little. Thanks for the pep talk and for taking the time to come here today."

"I meant everything I just told you. I'll support you whatever decision you make."

"Do … do you think I could win another term?" Brian asked.

"I wouldn't bet against you."

"Thanks, Charles. This has meant a lot to me."

Brian stood and shook Charles' hand warmly. He walked the man to his office door and quietly shut the door behind him. Brian had a lot to think about before he went home, and some important decisions to make. At least he had something positive to think about, and this was the first time in many days that he could say that.

-----

Brian stepped through the door of the loft. Justin sat on the couch reading a book.

"Hey," the young man said.

Brian said nothing. He strode around the end of the couch, snatched the book from Justin's hands, threw it on the floor and hauled his partner up and over his shoulder. He carried Justin that way up to the bedroom where he threw him on the bed. He knelt down beside the man he loved and began removing his clothes.

"Brian," Justin said softly. Brian refused to answer, and just removed the remainder of Justin's clothes. "Brian," Justin repeated, "what's going on?"

Brian continued the silent treatment and began removing his own clothes. Quickly he completed that task and loomed naked over the figure on the bed.

"Brian, did something happen? Talk to me. You're scaring me."

Brian's cock was red and erect. He stroked it a few times and Justin knew that he was going to get fucked into the mattress if not through it. He wondered if Charles had been to see Brian and this was his punishment for interfering. He could take it, he decided, and smiled up at Brian.

Brian reached in the drawer beside the bed and pulled out the lube and condoms. He quickly suited up and with little preparation drove into Justin's willing body. He found a rhythm and they both responded in the age old way that lovers did. Justin reached up and touched Brian's cheek, a gesture so simple and tender that it almost brought tears to Brian's eyes. Brian continued to pound into his lover pouring out all the disappointment and worry he had felt since the election. As they neared climax, Justin whispered Brian's name and they were coming, clinging to each other as the waves of pleasure claimed them.

When Brian pulled out and rolled away, Justin rolled up against him. "I've missed that," Justin whispered against Brian's throat.

"Yeah. I'm sorry."

"You couldn't help it," Justin said simply.

"I … I felt so lost. I didn't know what to do, and so I did nothing, day after day."

"That's why I called Charles. I had to do something."

"How did you know who to call?"

"I didn't. It was a lucky guess."

"More than luck. Sometimes I forget how smart you are," Brian said running his hand along Justin's arm.

"Do you feel better now?" Justin asked concern still visible in the blue eyes.

"Some."

"So what did Charles say to you?"

"Some things that we have to discuss," Brian admitted.

Justin smiled. He already knew what Charles had told Brian. They had discussed it on the phone. "I'm all ears."

"And very lovely ears they are too," Brian smirked.

"I've missed this," Justin admitted with a gentle smile. "You hardly said two words to me for days."

"I … I don't know what happened. The election hit me hard."

"So are you going to run again?" Justin asked.

Brian's eyes flew up in amazement. "You know? Just what did you and Charles talk about?"

"Everything."

Brian snorted. "I should be furious with you."

"But you're not. You love me. I'll stick by you whatever you decide to do."

"I'm not making a decision yet, and I want to talk all our options through before anything is settled on."

"Did you hear that?" Justin asked suddenly.

"What?" Brian asked looking around and straining to hear any unusual sound.

"The sound of Brian Kinney being a good partner."

"You think?"

"I know," and Justin's lips found Brian's. There would be time for talking later.

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