Same Time – Fin’s Campaign RV

Justin glanced out the large front window of the RV to observe Fin and Brian walking over to the campaign bus, Fin’s hand resting lightly on his son’s shoulder. His heart couldn’t help fluttering over that small gesture; it seemed that despite all the backstabbing that Turner’s campaign had been conducting lately, it had managed to create something that they probably had never anticipated – father and son were becoming closer together during all the hatred and bigotry that had been generated.  That was one fact that he was grateful for at least and provided them with just a little bit of poetic justice to offset the horridness of what the other camp had tried to do.

“You think we should have gone with them?” he heard Tony say behind him from his place at the small kitchen table. 

He watched Brian and Fin disappear into the campaign bus before he turned around to face his friend and shook his head.  “No,” he decided.  “I think it’s best we stay out of their way for a while.”  He walked back over and, pouring himself a mug of coffee from the coffeemaker on the counter, pulled out a chair to join his friend.  He smiled.  “When Brian is in full take-charge mode, I’ve found that it’s best to let him have his space and get his job done.  When he’s like that, he’s focused on one thing and one thing only.  Besides, if I did show up over there, all he would do is tend to worry about me – despite what he might say otherwise – and the last thing he needs right now is to have something or someone else diverting his attention away from what he needs to do.  It’s more important right now that he and Fin try to straighten this mess out.” 

Tony nodded pensively as he took a sip from his own mug.  “Yeah – Fin’s the same way.”  He sighed.  “Sometimes he’s a little too protective of me.  You’d think I was some fresh-faced rookie just out of law school instead of a senior partner in my own firm.”  He glanced over at Justin.  “So Brian treats you that way, too, huh?  You’re the last person I would think of as fragile.” 

Justin huffed in amusement.  “Thanks,” he told him.  “Brian doesn’t normally think of me that, way, either; but it always seems like his common sense flies out the window when he thinks I might wind up in harm’s way.”  Silently, he thought that quality was kind of endearing, even though it could also be exasperating at times.  He hadn’t been a wet-behind-the-ears kid in a long time now, but to Brian he supposed he would always be someone needing protection from the ‘big, bad, world.’ 

He let out a deep breath before he told Tony, “It’s probably just as well we stay here while they’re over at the bus strategizing; it’s not the roomiest place in the world with all those staff members and equipment over there anyway.  And I still get a little uncomfortable in situations like that.”  He shuddered a little at the thought.  He had gotten much better over the years at being in masses of crowds of people, but when he had no elbow room to move around in sometimes the sensation of almost drowning fell upon him and he found himself almost smothering as a result. 

Tony eyed him curiously.  “Why?  I would think with all the success you’ve had with your artwork that you would be fine in big crowds.  I’ve read about your gallery showings, Justin; they draw people in the hundreds sometimes.” 

Justin blushed, a little embarrassed over the attention as he told Tony, “That’s different.  My agent knows if it starts to get too overwhelming for me I can always escape to the rear of the gallery or go outside for a while until it subsides.”  He let out a long, slow breath before he explained, “It goes back to the bashing at my prom.  I got all this unwanted attention afterward and for the longest time I could barely show my face in public; I felt like the walls were crashing in on me every time I went inside a bar or restaurant; anyplace that was crowded with people.  And every time I was out in public, I felt like all these eyes were watching me; every time I got jostled or bumped into, my heart would start to pound and I’d break out into a cold sweat.”  His eyes peered out through the window of the RV as he was lost in another time and place.  “If it hadn’t been for Brian,” he murmured, his voice soft and distant as the memories came flooding back, “I’m not sure if I could have found my way back to any semblance of normalcy again.” 

Tony was stunned; Justin had told him about that awful night and the long road he had faced toward recovery afterward, but he had had no idea of the psychological problems that had occurred.  “Justin…I’m sorry you had to go through that.” 

Justin shook his head in dismissal, refusing to dwell on that horrible time.  “It’s okay,” he told him with a slight smile of reassurance, making it clear he was done discussing it.  “That’s over and done with,” he insisted.  “I just think it’s best to wait a while.  But I would like to attend the press conference where Brian and Fin get up to rebut those two assholes’ ridiculous statements – AND most of all I want to be there when they give Turner the big heave-ho, because I think that’s exactly what’s going to happen once his part in all this is revealed.”

Tony nodded with a grin; he was definitely looking forward to that, too.  “Yeah – I don’t want to miss that, either.  I can’t wait, in fact.”  His eyes darkened.  “You know, I never would have considered myself naïve when it came to politics.  I’ve certainly encountered my share of blowhards during courtroom proceedings as well as ass-kissers at political fundraisers.  But Turner really takes the cake; this is beyond down and dirty in my book.”  He eyed his friend quietly for a moment before asking Justin, “How do you feel about Brian getting up and having to air all his – shall we say – colorful past in front of a national audience?  Because you know that’s exactly what’s going to happen; Fin’s press conference is no doubt going to be all over the web as well as the T.V.” 

Justin sighed.  “Well, if I said I was happy about it, obviously I’d be lying,” he admitted.  “I’m not sure, for instance, how his grandparents are going to feel about it.”

“I thought Kathy and Sean were very supportive of him,” Tony pointed out as his fingers idly played with the rim of his mug. 

Justin nodded with a smile, remembering how welcoming they had been to Brian and Gus, at least once their initial shock had worn off about their newly-found family.  “They were – they still are, in fact,” he told him.  “Gus is spending a few days with them right now; he and his grandfather are having a grand old time doing some fishing from what I hear, and I’m sure Kathy’s having a blast spoiling him rotten as well.”  He had spoken to them a few days ago just to keep in touch, finding out to his surprise that Lindsay had allowed Gus to come visit them while she and Mel were out of town in Memphis attending some legal conference for Mel’s law firm. 

In a way, though, he wasn’t all that shocked that they had.  The older couple had an easy-going way about them that immediately put people at ease; he had been impressed as well as relieved over how well they had accepted his and Brian’s relationship and how they had embraced the idea and even rejoiced over having an unknown grandson and great-grandson. And Gus, who normally was a very happy child but still somewhat cautious around strangers, had seemed to take to them – and their dog, Butterscotch – very quickly.  How Sean and Kathy would react to Brian’s previous ‘unorthodox’ lifestyle, though, was yet to be seen.  And even he had no idea just how much detail Brian would have to go into at the press conference.  He DID know that Brian wouldn’t layer lie upon lie just to avoid some unpleasantness; he suspected some of the details his husband would have to divulge wouldn’t be the easiest ones to reveal – Brian wasn’t exactly proud of some of the things he had done before – but he also knew that Brian wouldn’t avoid a full disclosure of his previous lifestyle just to try and defer any further criticism of him. 

Justin brushed his left hand through the hair at the back of his neck and sighed as he glanced over at his friend.  “I think Brian has mixed feelings about what they’re going to have to do later today,” he told Tony.  “I think he’s looking forward to setting the record straight about exactly what happened between him and those two morons, but he’s also not particularly relishing the idea of having to dredge up some activities that he’s not especially proud of.”

“Justin, we all have things in our past that we would rather not relive,” Tony pointed out as he cupped both hands around his mug.  “That’s only human.” 

Justin eyed his friend intently.  “I suppose,” he replied.  “Although you don’t seem like the wild and crazy type to me – at least if you overlook all those weird disguises Fin described.”  Fin had spent one evening regaling him and Brian with entertaining tales of the various disguises his partner had resorted to in an attempt to keep their true relationship hidden.  Ever since Fin had finally come out with the truth about the two of them, though, Tony had pretty much retired all his ‘outfits.’ "I hear those are in mothballs now, though."

Tony smiled.  “Well, they're almost retired anyway; there’s always masquerade parties for Halloween.” 

Justin smiled back at him.  “Yeah, I guess they would come in handy then.”  His smile lessened as he thought about what Brian and his father were about to undertake.  While the idea of putting Turner and his cronies in their place held enormous satisfaction for him, he worried nonetheless about how the media – and the public – would react. 

As if he were reading his mind, he heard Tony say softly, “You’re worried about the press conference, too.” 

Justin nodded; all seriousness now.  “Yeah, a little I guess,” he admitted.  “I know Fin and Brian can both take care of themselves…”

“Then what?” Tony asked curiously.  “I don’t see Fin OR Brian backing down; that’s not the way they operate.”

One edge of Justin’s lips curled up in amusement as he replied, “No, neither one of them knows the meaning of the word quit, do they?  But that’s part of their charm.”  Tony grinned back at him in agreement as he glanced over at a small, round, brass-colored clock hanging over the kitchenette sink.  “It won’t be too long before the press conference,” he observed.  Scooting back from his chair, he wiped his hands on a nearby disposable napkin as he picked up his coffee mug and stood up to carry it over to the kitchen sink.  Placing it down, he turned to his friend.  “Ready to go greet the jackals and see Brian and his father knock them down a peg?” 

Tony grinned as he too, stood up and carried his mug over to the kitchen sink.  Placing a hand on Justin’s shoulder, he gave it a brief squeeze before dropping his hand to his side.  “Can’t wait,” he told him.  “Let’s go see the O’Connor-Kinney team kick some ass.”

Justin smiled back at him as he reached over and, grabbing his lightweight black and white jacket, followed Tony over to the door.

====================

Fifteen Minutes Earlier – Staff Campaign Bus

Adam Stewart seethed as he sat on one of the bus’s vinyl bench seats and tried to plaster a neutral expression on his face; inside, however, he was itching to call Underwood and give him a heads up that their so-called, well-constructed, foolproof plan to discredit O’Connor and his arrogant son was about to be shot to hell.  Having just taken both a smoke break as well as a bathroom break, however, he couldn’t think of a legitimate reason why he would need to go outside again, and he didn’t want to throw suspicion on himself at the moment.  He had tried to make a call in the small, cramped bathroom to try and warn Turner about this disturbing turn of events, but he had discovered to his dismay that he could not obtain a signal in the sheltered, confining space.  Thinking that he might need to maintain an element of anonymity just in case he had to take matters into his own hands at some point, he ultimately decided for the time being to keep his mouth shut and his eyes open for an opportunity to somehow still turn this pending disastrous situation around.  One thing he did know:  O’Connor could not be permitted to come out the winner in this election.  Just the thought of that perverted queer and his partner cavorting in the governor’s mansion and flaunting their queer lifestyle for all the world to see filled him with disgust. 

He turned his attention to the man and his son as they finished up their strategy meeting.  O’Connor was about to appear at a press conference with Kinney to try and put out the fire that Turner thought could not possibly be extinguished.  Thanks to his camp’s incompetency, however, the promising direction he thought Turner’s campaign was taking was now about to suffer what he feared was a mortal wound.  The worst part of it all was that there didn’t seem to be a damned thing he could do about it, either.  Maybe that was true, though, and maybe it wasn’t.  He bit his lip as he watched the easy-going type of banter now reverberating throughout the room; what he thought was going to be akin to a death knell for the man had quickly turned into almost a celebration.  He turned his face toward the window, observing the massive crowd of media now spilling onto the side lawn of the Allentown Civic Center visible to their location.  He couldn’t see how many people were already congregated at the front entrance, waiting to get in to hear O’Connor speak, but if the amount of boom trucks and camera crews interspersed throughout the area was any indication, it was obvious there was going to be a huge amount of media attending the press conference coming up.  Before it would have filled him with extreme satisfaction; now, however, it only provided him with a sense of impending dread. 

He looked up as he observed father and son standing up.  “Gentlemen, let’s get this dog and pony show started,” Fin told his staff.  He looked over at Brian with a grin as he added, “This is one press conference I can’t wait to start.” 

Don Meyers, Fin’s old college chum and current bodyguard, stood up.  “Just a minute,” he told him as he walked around the two.  “Let me go first; I’ve got some supplementary security detail staff who are waiting to join us outside.”  Don was a former policeman with the Harrisburg P.D.; he had attended the police academy fresh out of school after flunking out of his LSAT exam for the bar and had found to his surprise that he really enjoyed the down-and-dirty world of being a beat cop on the downtown streets.  Thirty years later he had been able to retire at the fairly early age of 55; finding himself oddly bored with his more sedentary life until his old friend, Fin, had called him a few months ago with a request for him to handle his security detail.  Now as he found himself ensconsed in the day-to-day operations of the Senator’s campaign, he was having the time of his life.  That didn’t mean that he didn’t take his job seriously, however.

Fin clapped one hand on his old friend’s back.  “Okay then, Matt Dillon – lead the way,” he teased him as he and Brian held back long enough for the tall, rather imposing figure of his friend to open the door and emerge out onto the pavement of the rear parking lot.  He took a cursory look around the secure area, noting to his satisfaction that no was one lurking about, before he nodded up at his friend to follow.  “We’re going in through the rear entrance,” he told Fin as he and Brian walked alongside him, the rest of their staff closely in tow behind them along with approximately a dozen other off-duty policemen that Meyers had procured for tonight’s event. He wasn’t sure if they would be necessary, but in light of the bombshell information Fin was going to drop on the press, he felt it was a prudent precaution to take.  “The press is being kept segregated from that area.”

Fin nodded as Mark Leon, his ‘jack-of-all-trades’ assistant, caught up with them.  “Where exactly will Brian and I be speaking?” he asked Mark.

“You’re all set up in the Oakwood Banquet Room,” Mark told his boss.  “There’s a raised stage at the front that is already equipped with a podium and microphone.  The major networks will be utilizing the same camera feed to capture yours and Brian’s statements.” 

As Fin nodded in understanding, Brian asked, “Did you relay the protocol for the press conference?  Not that I really expect them to actually follow our request,” he muttered.  The press hadn’t exactly been in their camp from Day One; but something told him by the time they got done they just might start to obtain some converted recruits.

Mark grinned.  “Yeah, I don’t either; I suspect that following the rules isn’t exactly their specialty,” he added with a smirk.  “But each credentialed press representative was provided with a copy of our stipulation to hold off on any questions until both you and the Senator are finished making your statements.”

Brian nodded as they continued walking toward the rear entrance; he could see cameramen recording their every movement now from the side of the building.  He intentionally turned to gaze directly into the camera, concentrating on making the public realize that neither he – nor his father – was going to back down in the midst of what seemed like an unequivocal public relations fiasco.  If everything went as they hoped, soon enough, the press – as well as the public – would know the entire story and what could have been a total nightmare will be turned around in their favor.

“Fin?” 

Brian’s father turned around slightly to face Kirk Littleton, his speechwriter.  “You have the revisions done, Kirk?”

Kirk nodded.  “Right here,” he told him as he handed the senator four sheets of typewritten script; several hastily-scrawled notations were made throughout the text, reflecting changes that Fin had asked him to make earlier when he had met with his staff.  He had ultimately decided to rely at least somewhat on prepared notes, but a large part of what he had to say would also be based on Brian’s comments beforehand.  His son – for better or worse – had decided to talk off the cuff, without virtue of any official notes.  Brian had assured him that he could more than take care of refuting what the two other men had had to say about him, and Fin’s documentation about the specifics should more than compensate for any damage they thought they were going to do to his campaign. 

“Thanks,” Fin told him as he quickly perused the changes to make sure they were what he wanted.  Satisfied, he looked over at Brian as they arrived at the back, double-door entrance.  “Ready to take on the world, Mr. Campaign Manager?” he asked him, lifting one eyebrow in a perfect Kinney-esque imitation of his son.   

Brian curled one side of his mouth upward.  “Damn right I am,” he growled.  He hesitated, a sudden thought occurring to him.  In their rush to get ready for this hastily-called press conference, he and Fin had been immersed for the past hour in preparations and hadn't had time to think about anything else.  “I thought Justin and Tony would be here.” He looked around, noticing both men were absent.

Fin turned around to look, but he was having trouble seeing around his staff and the extra security people that his friend Don has procured for protection.  He knew his partner and son-in-law wouldn’t miss this for anything.  “I’m sure they’ll be here shortly,” he told him, glancing down at his watch to notice how late it was getting.  Being featured on the evening news broadcasts was one of their goals this evening, so time was of the essence if they were going to finish up before then.  “We’d better get going,” he told Brian somewhat reluctantly.  “I’m sure they’re right behind us,” he told him.  “I’ll make sure Mark keeps an eye out for them.”  He turned to Mark who nodded that he would before he lightly grasped Brian’s lower arm.  Brian took one quick look back once more before he nodded and followed Don and Fin into the civic center.

======================================

Same Time – Near the RV

“Shit!” Justin proclaimed in part amazement/part disdain as he noticed the ever-burgeoning crowd that had swelled since the last time he had looked out the front window of the RV.  He stood in the open doorway of the RV’s entrance at the top of the steps, waiting for Tony to join him. 

“What? Tony asked curiously as he walked up behind him.  Justin didn’t have to provide him with an answer, however, as Tony peeked his head around the open doorway and saw for himself.  “Unbelievable,” he exclaimed as he surveyed the mass of bodies, camera boom trucks and even a helicopter circling overhead like some giant, silver vulture surrounding its carrion.  “There must be twice as many people as the last time we looked.”

Justin nodded, his lips pursed tightly together.  “Try to conduct a civil town meeting somewhere and a few hundred citizens show up; get just a whiff of scandal and possible tabloid fodder and the whole fucking state shows up.”  He watched now as the previously cordoned-off side entrance of the building was  opened up and several of the people began to scurry inside the civic center like rats searching for cheese.  “Great,” he muttered to Tony.  “Even if we go in the back entrance, we’ll have to negotiate our way around all those other people.  I knew we should have left a little earlier.” 

Tony placed a hand companionably on Justin’s shoulder, knowing Justin’s need – just like his own – to be near his partner.  He had a sudden urge to be there, too; he had no idea until right then just how big this whole situation had become.  He eyed all the local and national news trucks parked outside and the numerous reporters mingling around the perimeter of the building, their microphones thrust in front of their faces as they began to tape their initial, preliminary reports, no doubt frothing at the mouth over the thought of what might be disclosed at the press conference, and he knew he had to let Fin know somehow that he was there in full support of him. 

“It’ll be okay,” he softly reassured his friend, realizing after what Justin had told him earlier that he wasn’t feeling too comfortable about being surrounded by such a large mass of people in such tight quarters, but also knowing Justin would forge ahead anyway to be near Brian.  “I’m sure once one of Fin’s staff recognizes us at the back door they can find a short cut somehow to get us to the back of the podium area.” 

Justin let out a nervous breath, feeling the unwanted and all-too-familiar clammy feeling washing over him.  “I hope so,” he said.  “Okay, then, let’s get going,” he decided as he squared his shoulders.  “I want to be there when they start; I want to be there for the whole fucking thing.”  Despite his feelings of apprehension, there was no way he was going to miss any of it – or let Brian know that he was firmly standing behind him, both figuratively and literally.

Tony nodded as he let go of Justin’s shoulder and reached to close the door behind them.  Feeling several pairs of curious eyes on them as they began to walk toward the civic center, he intentionally turned to stare down the crowd unflinchingly, almost daring them to challenge his and Justin’s right to be there.  He noticed Justin doing the same thing, despite his uneasiness, and he couldn’t help the almost proud feeling that welled up inside him over his young friend's courage and determination.  He could certainly see how his partner’s son had been so attracted to this amazing man, the same man who had emboldened him to give Fin an ultimatum to either be honest with himself and others or risk seeing the end of their relationship.  He couldn’t help thinking in a way how ironic that was.  If he hadn’t insisted on Fin being so open about his sexuality and their relationship to the public, perhaps they wouldn’t be in this vicarious situation now.  But he also knew he wouldn’t change anything; he was glad they were no longer living a lie, despite what the repercussions might be. 

A few minutes later, they reached the back double doors of the civic center; to his disappointment as well as his surprise, he noticed two uniformed policemen standing guard to either side, both of whom he did not recognize, rather than the familiar face of Don Meyers, Fin’s old friend in charge of security.  He and Justin gave each other a puzzled look as they walked up to the closed doors.

“Sorry,” one of the men, the taller of the two sporting a close-cropped head of dark-blond hair and piercing eyes of gray, told them gruffly.  “There’s no admittance for the public this way.”  He peered at the two men suspiciously, wondering how they had even gotten inside the blocked off area of the parking lot.  It had been his understanding that this area had been strictly reserved for members of the Senator’s campaign staff. 

Tony huffed out a soft sigh of frustration.  “We’re not the public,” he said almost with disdain since that word only conjured up unpleasant behavior lately.   He pondered just how to introduce the two of them and finally decided that to hell with it; he wasn’t hiding anything anymore.  If these two men didn’t like it, then screw them – at least figuratively speaking.  “I’m the Senator’s partner and this is the husband of Brian Kinney, the Senator’s son and campaign manager.” 

The man who had spoken to him stole a glance at the other policeman that to both Tony and Justin appeared to contain a bit of disgust in it before he told Tony icily, “I don’t care if you claim you’re the fucking Pope; I was told by Mr. Meyers that no one else gets in through this entrance.  If you want to get in you’ll have to go through one of the other public entrances.  No one gets in this door until I’m told it’s okay.” 

Justin’s eyes flashed; he had had more than his share of this treatment over the years and he was sick to death of it.  “Listen, you asshole,” he growled as Tony gripped his wrist in a silent bid to calm him down a little, “Did you not hear what Tony said?  He’s Fin’s partner – as in lover, boyfriend, whatever the hell you want to call it – and I’m Fin’s son-in-law – that’s what you call someone who’s married to a person's son.  Now let us in the fucking DOOR!” 

But to both men’s consternation, the taller policeman defiantly stood his ground.  “Look, I have no idea if you’re telling me the truth; believe me, when it comes to the press and their underhanded tactics, I’ve heard it all.  Now I repeat:  go around to one of the other entrances.  No one is getting in this way until the press conference is over.”

“You have GOT to be fucking kidding me!” Justin retorted in disgust as he glared up at the man, his hands on his hips.  “Call Don Meyers and ASK him who we are!  He knows us both!”  He turned to look at Tony whose face reflected the same sort of disbelief that he was feeling. 

“Nice try,” the man told him.  “You can drop names all you want; that still doesn’t prove you’re who you say you are.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Tony exclaimed in indignation as he flipped his cellphone open to call Fin’s private number.  “I’ll prove it to you, then, you idiot!”  Being an attorney, Tony normally had a lot of respect for the blue’s finest, but this man definitely was not worthy of such an acknowledgement; he was not only stubborn as hell but apparently some sort of homophobic prick to boot.  He sighed in dismay as the phone began to ring and then immediately went to voicemail; apparently his partner had turned his phone off in preparation for his press conference.  “It’s going straight to voicemail,” he told Justin.  “Try and see if you can reach Brian; maybe he can at least send someone out to persuade this gorilla that we are who we say we are.”

Justin nodded as he glared over at the obstinate policeman, reaching inside his jacket to locate his phone and flip it open.  Punching the single number quick dial for Brian’s number, he brought the phone up to his ear as he, too, listened in frustration as it went right into his husband’s voicemail as well.  “Damn it!” he cried out as he slammed the phone shut. 

“Same thing?”

Justin nodded as he looked hopefully over at the other security guard who had chosen to remain silent during their entire encounter with his nasty counterpart.  “Look, can’t you just go inside and find one of Fin’s staff to vouch for us?”

The man, a slender, somewhat swarthy-looking black-haired man appeared sympathetic to their plight but after looking over at his fellow officer and seeing the look of scorn on his face, he crumbled under the other man’s icy stare as he shook his head.  “I’m sorry – we’re not allowed to leave our post.”

Justin shook his head and let out an audible huff.  It was obvious they wouldn’t get anywhere with these two idiots and it was getting later by the second.  Grabbing Tony’s sleeve this time, he pressed him, “Come on, Tony; the press conference is about to start.  Let’s go,” he urged him.  He stared up into the taller man’s face, seeing a look of scorn as well as almost pity there as he told his friend, “We can deal with them later.” 

“I’m just doing my job,” the taller man insisted as he glared down at the blond spitfire and crossed his burly arms over his barrel-sized chest, not willing to budge in his position.

Both Tony and Justin glared back at him before Tony finally nodded.  “You’ll never work another security detail for Fin again,” he told him with quiet resolve as he slowly turned and followed Justin toward the side door. 

“I can’t believe that asshole!” Tony exclaimed angrily as he walked next to his friend.  “Don Meyers would have never hired either one of them if he knew they were like that.”

Justin glanced back at the two men; the taller one was still staring back at them, no longer trying to hide his outright distaste for them this time.  “I’m sure Don didn’t know,” Justin told him as he turned back around to fall into place with the rest of the crowd pressing inside.  He deliberately kept a few feet between them and the group in front of them, not wanting to feel too overwhelmed by the impatient rush of people flowing inside.

As if sensing his discomfort, Tony placed his hand on Justin’s upper left arm to gently steer him toward the door.  “We can head toward the back once we get in,” he assured him softly as they followed a group of people toward the door.  “I’m sure we can find one of the guys on Fin’s staff.”

Justin nodded as they finally entered the building; his sighed in relief as they came out into a large, open hallway that afforded them some more elbow space.  He immediately migrated over to a far wall where less people were congregated so he and Tony could get their bearings. 

Glancing around, he realized they were hemmed in all over; from their position, he couldn’t even tell where the stage entrance was.  He sighed as he looked into Tony’s sympathetic face.  “This is fucking ridiculous,” he muttered to his friend.  “I think we’ll have to try and enter through the regular public entrance like everyone else and hope we can get Fin or Brian’s attention.”

Tony nodded.  “Yeah, I agree.”  He looked over at a side door nearby, noticing the interior was filling up.  “We’d better get in there,” he told him.  “Looks like it’s about to start.”

Justin nodded as he followed his friend over to the nearest side entrance for the large banquet room and slipped inside; he was astounded by how packed it was.  The room had to hold at least 500 people and every available chair seemed to be taken.  In fact, several members of the press were now standing up around the round banquet tables interspersed throughout the room, making it difficult to see the podium erected at the far side of the room up on the stage.  It was apparent that there were several constituents mingled among the media, too, no doubt dying to hear what Fin and Brian had to say.

“Shit, I can’t believe this!” Tony practically yelled in Justin’s ear; it was the best way to get his friend’s attention amongst the boisterous voices bouncing off the walls of the reception room.  “There’s no possible way we’re going to get any closer,” he told him.  “We’d better stay put right here, don’t you think?” 

Justin sighed.  “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”  He craned his neck as he watched a group of people coming out onto the stage approximately 75 feet away from them; his heart skipped a beat as he spied Fin and Brian following behind the rest of Fin’s staff to take their places side by side at the podium.  He grasped Tony’s sleeve to get his attention as his friend looked at him and nodded; his face was an almost exact mirror of his own as he noticed Tony’s gaze fixed on his partner’s commanding presence on stage, at once apprehensive for him but also extremely proud, too, of Fin’s resolve and strength.

Standing at Tony’s side, Justin was having similar thoughts.  This was the first time he had seen father and son standing together as one in such a public venue, and the sight filled him with a little trepidation but also a sense of fulfillment that he had had a hand in bringing them together.  The two men cut a dramatic, impressive picture at the podium as they both faced the oppressive, overflowing crowd with confidence as they waited for the crowd’s boisterousness to die down.  Justin could almost physically feel the hostility flowing from the media that were waiting for what they assumed would be a surrender to the inevitable after the explosive revelations earlier in the day.  Despite his nervousness for both his husband as well as his father-in-law, though, he still had to smile a little at the thought that the press was going to be in for a major surprise in addition to Turner’s camp; no doubt they were almost smelling victory at the moment.  Think again, assholes, he couldn’t help thinking as he subconsciously held his breath and waited for the start of the press conference.

The microphone on the podium emitted a brief, ear-splitting squelch for a few seconds, serving to help quell the noise as the press slowly quieted down and Fin began to speak at last.

His heart beating rapidly in his chest but hiding his nervousness, Fin inhaled a deep breath though his slightly parted lips and glanced over at Brian, who nodded, before he began.  “Ladies and gentlemen of the press and citizens of the state of Pennsylvania, as I imagine all of you know my name is Senator Fintan O’Connor and I am running for governor of what I feel is the greatest state in the USA.  I have always thought that one of the best things about this great country of ours is the freedoms that we all enjoy, including freedom of speech.  Lately, however, that freedom has been used perversely by my opponent’s camp in an attempt to destroy my and my son’s credibility.  Well, let me set the record straight regarding that, my friends; if you have all come here expecting a eulogy to be given in memory of my campaign, that is NOT going to happen.  Quite the contrary.  I have some enlightening information of our own that I think will put that notion to rest right now.”

He reached out to place his hand on his son’s shoulder; their similar frames and height instantly noticeable.  “I would like to first rectify an oversight that I should have corrected a long time ago; in front of you here today and this national audience I would like to formally – and proudly – introduce you to my campaign manager and most importantly my son – Brian Kinney.”

There was a murmuring in the crowd over Fin’s defiant and surprising opening volley that increased slightly in volume as he officially acknowledged his son standing by his side.  Justin and Tony glanced at each other, both aware of the significance of this moment.  Fin had, indeed, come a long way in a relatively short time.

Fin held up in his right hand in an effort to calm the crowd as he continued, “Brian has a statement he wants to make in regards to the accusations leveled against him earlier today, and then I will also have a statement.  I will permit an orderly,” Fin stated, emphasizing the last word as an admonition, “question and answer period afterward.  Brian?” he called out his son’s name politely; he gave his shoulder a brief, encouraging squeeze before he dropped his hand and stood back several inches from the podium as Brian stepped forward.

To the crowd, Brian’s steady gaze out upon the sea of faces appeared calm and collected; to Justin’s trained eye, however, he didn’t miss the clenching of Brian’s hand at his side or the single swallow of his Adam’s apple, signifying to him how anxious Brian was.  He knew, however, that his husband would not let Fin down and that he was also eager to set the record straight with no hint of apology for his previous lifestyle, although Justin suspected that he did regret some of it.  As Brian often told him, though, you could never undo what had already been done.  That didn’t mean, however, that you couldn’t set the record straight. 

Brian took a silent intake of breath as he eyed the crowd evenly; he could feel his pulse racing, partly out of nervousness but also from indignation as he began, “As my father just stated, my name is Brian Kinney.  I’m sure my name is already quite familiar to all of you after this morning’s vitriolic and inaccurate statements that were made by so-called reputable sources speaking on behalf of Turner’s campaign.”

The crowd was now listening in rapt attention as Brian spoke; it was in marked contrast to the animated conversation that had been occurring just minutes before.  The only sounds at the moment that could be heard were the soft whirrs and clicks of the cameras being used to tape the press conference for broadcast on the evening news.

“First of all, there are a few parts of both Mr. Thomas’s and Mr. Telson’s statements that are actually factual; I did have a business relationship with both parties.  Mr. Telson was a potential client of my former employer, the Ryder Advertising agency, and Mr. Thomas was a co-worker of mine as he stated.  That, however, is where the accuracies end,” Brian told them firmly, his clear voice carrying throughout the room.  “As was typical with potential clients, after our meeting that day I asked Mr. Telson if he wanted to attend a sports event as the guest of our agency and was turned down, only to be asked later if I would accompany him to a gay dance club in Pittsburgh by the name of Babylon.  Until Mr. Telson suggested that activity I had no idea that he – shall we say – preferred dick.” 

There was a tittering of nervous laughter from the audience as a tiny bit of a smile of amusement appeared on Fin’s face before Brian continued.  “Having frequented Babylon a multitude of times in the past, I offered later that evening to introduce Mr. Telson to anyone that he seemed interested in while we were there; it seems that the only one he was interested in, however, was me.” 

Justin took a deep breath, knowing Brian had to be honest about himself but also feeling inexplicably uncomfortable having Brian disclose his previous, promiscuous sex life for all the world to hear.  He was grateful to feel Tony place his hand on his shoulder and give it a squeeze, but his eyes were only for his husband as Brian continued to explain in painful detail what his life used to be like.

“At the time Mr. Telson asked me to come over to his hotel room the next evening for a little ‘entertainment,’ I admit I felt it might be beneficial in winning him over as a client.  We were too consenting adults who were free to do what we pleased and it wasn’t hurting anyone else.  However, when I discovered through a call he intercepted from his wife that he was not only married but had children as well, I promptly ended our encounter, despite Mr. Telson’s claim that I tried to keep him there.  Far from it; Mr. Telson was the one who didn’t want to leave, telling me that there was nothing he could do for his daughter who was injured and that it could wait until morning.”  Brian paused for a moment before explaining, “It was me who called the front desk to tell them Mr. Telson was checking out, not the other way around.”

Justin again heard the rumble of the crowd as he and Tony exchanged a nervous glance.  He wasn’t sure if the crowd was murmuring in doubt or suspicion over Brian’s claims, surprise, or both.  He did notice several people whispering amongst themselves, as well as several hurriedly writing notes down on paper or typing into electronic devices. 

“As far as Kip Thomas goes,” Brian continued.  “As I said, yes, he was a co-worker of mine, a very ambitious co-worker who wanted everything and wanted it yesterday.  And yes, he was quite intelligent and very driven to succeed; too much.   So much so that after we engaged in two instances of consensual sexual activities, he assumed that as a fellow gay male I would automatically recommend him for a promotional position at the agency.  When that didn’t happen – when I actually had the gall to suggest that he earn his achievements instead just like I had – he promptly turned around and sued me for sexual harassment, which was a total fabrication and distortion of the facts.” 

Brian’s eyes swept around the room until he finally zoomed in on the person he was seeking; his face softened somewhat as he locked gazes with Justin, who smiled back at him tenderly in return.  Emboldened by his husband’s understanding, encouragement and love shining back at him, he admitted, “Part of what Mr. Thomas said about how he was forced to drop the harassment claim against Ryder Agency is true; he was encouraged by the man who would later become my husband to take him back to his apartment in hopes of engaging in a mutual tryst, only to be frightened into dropping the lawsuit against me in exchange for assurance that he would not be prosecuted for having under-age sex with a minor.  In reality, the actual age of consent at the time this occurred was seventeen, so the claims of possible prosecution or retaliation by my husband’s father were merely a sham to get him to drop the suit.  While I don’t condone what my husband did, I realize he was doing it as a way to extricate me from what he saw as an impossible situation and I have nothing but admiration for the courage he displayed in doing so.” 

The eyes in the room swept over toward Justin as he temporarily became the center of attention.  He flushed at Brian’s heartfelt words, feeling his pulse quicken and his body break out into a cold sweat as he realized everyone’s attention, including the cameras, were presently focused on him.  He knew Brian hadn’t meant to give his presence away necessarily, but he inadvertently had nonetheless.

Brian must have sensed his discomfiture, because Justin watched as his husband motioned for Don Meyers to walk over to him and, after whispering something in his ear, the man seemed to magically appear by his and Tony’s side about a minute later as Brian continued to defend his actions.  It didn’t totally eliminate his feelings of the walls closing in on him as Don stood protectively nearby, but at least it did ease his worry somewhat that a member of the media would pounce on him and Tony the moment the press conference was over. 

As if reading his mind, Don leaned over to Justin after a moment and whispered loudly, “You and Tony come with me.”  Justin nodded as the man lightly grasped his wrist and led the two of them over toward the side of the stage, keeping his body between them and the rest of the group like a moving shield. 

As soon as the trio reached the same level as Brian and Fin, Don said to them, “This way,” as he led them off-stage toward the left to stand approximately 25 feet away from their loved ones.  Both men could still see father and son on the stage, but no one in the audience could see them directly now, providing them with some much-needed privacy.  Meyers kept a close stance next to them, just as Brian had requested as he continued explaining their position over the morning’s allegations.

“I will not deny that several years ago I was very active sexually,” Brian admitted as the room again began to hum over that somewhat salacious statement.  “But at the time, I was a consenting adult free to do as I pleased with others who felt the same way; I at no time participated in any under-age sexual activity with anyone.  Nor did I ever force another sexual partner to do what they did not want to do willingly.”  He and Fin had discussed disclosing Brian’s predilection toward using recreational drugs at the time, too, but ultimately chose to hold off on openly disclosing that, electing to be up front about it if it were brought up later during the question-and-answer session, but feeling it would only muddy the somewhat clouded waters that were already churning with lies and deceit already.  He had been upfront with his father about it in private, but it had been mere luck that during the times he had had dalliances with both men he had elected for some reason not to imbibe in one of his favorite pastimes; he was sure if he had Telson or Thomas would have been more than happy to reveal all of the sordid details to the press.

“These man both had ulterior motives for doing what they did this morning, ladies and gentlemen,” Brian spoke out clearly.  “It’s very simple really – they did it for revenge over being rejected as well as for good, old American money.” 

As the crowd began to hum in anticipation, sensing a possible startling revelation coming, Brian felt his father’s hand once more on his shoulder as Fin stepped up to the microphone.  “My son is correct,” Fin told them authoritatively.  “We have irrefutable evidence from a reputable source that both men had $20,000 deposited into their respective checking accounts two days ago from a gentleman by the name of Alfred Kleemeyer, who is none other than the retired, former comptroller for Turner Logistics, Richard Turner’s own company.”

The crowd erupted into an uproar of shock and surprise as the walls rang with their voices of incredulity; Fin and Brian both noticed several reporters hastily keying in information into their portable electronic devices, no doubt beginning to transmit the startling news to their respective outlets in an attempt to be the first one to reveal this unexpected information. 

Fin held up his hand in an attempt to try and quell the tumultuous reaction to his statement as he added, “There’s more.  Mr. Telson’s $20,000 was deposited to an off-shore account in the Channel Islands, no doubt in an attempt to hide this windfall from his ex-wife who he owes several thousand dollars to in alimony payments.  As part of his divorce stipulation he was to sell his business, Telson Tires, and split the proceeds with her.  What he failed to tell her, however, is that he still owns the business through a mock shell company under the name of Quality Tires, LLC.”

The crowd once more began to speak at once as Fin raised his voice to be heard above the din.  “And as for Mr. Thomas,” he told them, his voice picking up volume again as he felt a second, victorious wind coming, “As for Mr. Thomas – we determined that Mr. Thomas was terminated by another ad agency by the name of Orbit Enterprises due to insubordination before coming to work for the Ryder Agency; the insubordination was due to his attempt to steal another co-worker’s ideas and claim them as his own.  And he has filed a total of ten lawsuits for various frivolous reasons in the past two years, during which time he has been unemployed on total disability due to a work-related accident.  He settled with his last employer for $100,000 in addition to his workers’ compensation.” 

Fin and Brian had wisely chosen not to reveal that Orbit had settled out of court with Thomas for $50,000, deciding that bowing under the pressure of Thomas’s claim over being fired erroneously might not reflect positively for their side.  To Fin, though, it really didn’t matter.  Both men were total assholes and not to be trusted anyway; they had more than ample proof of that.

“Now I ask you, members of the press as well as the voters here in attendance this afternoon; are these two gentlemen – and I use that word very loosely here – people that are to be trusted with the truth?  And more importantly – how much can you trust the candidate whose former employee deposited $20,000 into each of these men’s checking accounts two days before they issued these explosive allegations under his express direction?  I think that statement speaks for itself,” Fin told them as he completed his mainly off-the-cuff statement.  He took a deep breath, noticing a clear change of demeanor from the audience as he stated as calmly as he could, “I will now take questions that you may have.”  Of course he knew that was going to set off an avalanche as soon as it left his mouth and he was proven correct as a virtual torrent of questions were thrown his way, so much so that he couldn’t make out any of them clearly in order to answer them.

“So much for orderly progression,” he leaned in to whisper loudly in Brian’s ear.  Brian smirked at him as he raised his voice out over the hubbub immediately below them.  “One at a time!” he sternly directed them, in full Fintan O’Connor mode.  “Or I won’t answer ANY of them!”  For a change he finally felt like he was in command now as the crowd died down considerably.  Still, several media people attempted to thrust their questions out at once as they jockeyed to have them answered.

Fin finally pointed to one of the more well-known reporters standing nearby that he recognized as a national cable news network star investigator.  “Yes…Malcolm,” he stated as he pointed at the well-dressed, dark-haired man who was the current darling of the network.  Malcolm Jacobs was renowned for being a tough, bulldog-type of reporter but also a fair one. 

“How did you find all this information out, Senator?  Just how reputable is this source you’re quoting?” 

Fin nodded; he had pretty much been expecting that to be the initial question.  Of course Tony had promised Seavers that he wouldn’t divulge the exact source, and he had to honor that request.  Thank goodness the man had been true to his word and had emailed the pertinent document to Tony’s phone.  “The source this information was obtained from is quite credible,” he told Jacobs.  “They wish to remain anonymous; however, we will distribute copies of the actual documented evidence regarding both deposits as well as who made them available to members of the press shortly after this conference is adjourned.   If Mr. Turner wishes to dispute his knowledge of his former comptroller’s role in providing this unexpected windfall to Telson and Turner, then that will be up to him to determine.  But I think all of you here tonight will agree that the odds of him not knowing what was happening are extremely slim and defy common sense.” 

Cries of “Senator” erupted once more as Fin this time turned to the opposite side to take a question from a tall, slim woman with long blond hair and half-rimmed glasses; she was dressed in a red blazer and skirt with bright red lipstick and eyed him intently as she asked, “Senator, what is your response to those more conservative constituents who may now have questions regarding Mr. Turner’s involvement in this issue but at the same time are unable to accept a candidate as well as his son whom they regard as engaging in an aberrant lifestyle?” 

Fin let out a ragged breath, knowing this question, too, would likely come up but somehow hoping that it wouldn’t be thrust upon him once again today.  He tried to keep a neutral expression on his face and keep his voice calm as he responded.  “What I would say to those voters is to search their hearts for what is truly important in this campaign, what truly matters to them.  I am not downplaying their values and convictions at all – I respect their choices as I hope they would respect mine – but at the same time isn’t it more important that the people of Pennsylvania have someone in the Governor’s office who can lead them out of the economic muck that we are presently in?  Someone who has had years of experience maneuvering through the obstacles presented by bureaucracy and favoritism and refuses to buckle under to special interest groups?   Someone who has a clear vision of what is needed to lead this state in the direction it needs to go?  Or someone who resorts to outrageous and unscrupulous tactics to prevent someone whose lifestyle is contrary to his own from reaching the Governor's office?” 

Fin didn’t really mean for this part of the press conference to evolve into an impromptu speech but he found that he couldn’t help it.  He glanced over at Tony, who nodded in encouragement for him to continue; he of all people knew how he could get when he was passionate about something he cared about.  He bestowed a tender smile on his partner before he turned back to face the audience.  “To me, ladies and gentlemen, that sort of attitude smacks of intolerance and narrow-mindedness.  Is that really the type of person you want leading such a diverse state as this one?  Someone who places more priority on what a person does in private over the leadership qualities that will be needed to meet the challenges facing this state?  That is how I would respond to that question.” 

Another round of voices called out from the audience as Fin shook his head firmly.  He had said his piece as had his son; the ball was in his opponent’s court now.  He nodded over at Mark Leon who was standing nearby.  Speaking into the microphone, his assistant told the crowd authoritatively, “That’s it for now, Ladies and Gentlemen; copies of the documents discussed will be available shortly.  This press conference is adjourned.”  The loud din from the mass of people was ignored as Mark held out his hand to lead Fin and Brian back off the stage toward their partners in the direction opposite the rest of Fin’s staff, who, along with a majority of the constituents in the audience, were clapping their approval over his refusal to back down.  Once the media determined that their star attraction was, indeed, serious about not taking any more questions they all began to race toward the exits, determined to be the first person to obtain a live feed from their respective stations so they could provide the incredible scoop of the night.

As he watched Tony and Fin embrace as well and Brian Kinney bestowing a brief kiss on Justin Taylor’s lips, Adam Stewart’s face contorted with anger and contempt over their arrogant display of public affection.  So much for conducting themselves in ‘private,’ he couldn’t help silently thinking.  His hands clenched into fists at his side as he turned his face away from the sickening sight, not wanting to show his hand just yet.  He was anxious to contact Turner’s team to make sure they were aware of everything that had transpired this afternoon and to find out just what the hell they were going to do about it.  For the first time, he was beginning to doubt whether Turner could accomplish what he had set out to do; after what had just been divulged the man would be hard pressed to squirm out of this debacle intact. HE was going to be the one needing to do a lot of explaining now.

Taking a deep breath, he turned around to stomp off in the opposite direction, seeking a private space where he could make his call.  He glanced back one more time at the two smug-looking couples embracing each other before, with a disgusted shake of his head, he hurried off the stage, wondering if it would be up to him ultimately to stop what would undoubtedly be an enormous mistake.