Brian brushed his hand across his face, earnestly hoping that he was imagining his 'sister' standing on his doorstep, but as soon as she opened her mouth he knew that was not the case.

"Care to explain this, Brian?" she growled, one hand on her hip as she glared up at him. The folded up newspaper was clutched tightly in her other hand as she held it out toward him.

Brian eyed her calmly. "It's black and white and read all over," he intoned helpfully. "Now do you want to tell me what the fuck you're doing here, Claire?"

"You're an embarrassment to our family, Brian!" she snapped at him all of a sudden. "How could you?"

Brian shook his head, feeling a migraine coming on; why not? he thought – he already had a pain in the ass standing right in front of him. Why did he feel like he was replaying some scene from a horrid play over and over again in his mind? He sighed in disgust. "It's too early for damn guessing games, Claire – I repeat: what the fuck do you want with me?"

"You had to go flaunt it, didn't you?"

Brian held out his hands, palms up, in a silent gesture for her to elaborate.

"It was bad enough you had to search out your biological father, but now it's plastered all over the paper! Do you know how embarrassing this is? You're destroying Mom and Dad's reputations!"

Brian snorted in derision. "Their reputations? Do you really think I give a fuck about their reputations, Claire?"

She huffed. "Obviously not. Mom tried to tell Daddy what a mistake he was making, but he wouldn't listen – and now look! This is the thanks they get for taking you in!"

"Whoa…..back up here, Claire," Brian said as a painful, startling realization hit him full force. "You don't seem too upset – or surprised – over the fact that I'm the illegitimate son of a gay politician. In fact, you don't seem surprised at all! You knew….didn't you? You knew all along that I was adopted!"

"What if I did?" she asked snootily.

He stared at her incredulous. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Claire glared at him. "Why should I have? You've been a disappointment to Mom and Dad since you were a little kid; always shooting your mouth off, always getting into trouble, never caring about the problems you caused. You gave them nothing but grief! And after Daddy died, you never so much as lifted a pinky finger to help me take care of Mom! And when she found out you were gay, it about broke her heart; I think that's why she wound up drinking so much – and that's why she died, Brian! She couldn't take it anymore! Why should I care, then, about your feelings?

"Mommy Dearest drank herself to death starting a long time ago, well before she found out about me and Justin – I didn't force all that booze down her fucking throat! How long have you known anyway?" he asked her softly, unable to hide the pain from his voice. All this time, was he the only one who hadn't been told?

"Since I was a teenager," she told him to his astonishment. "Mom always said the only reason why she agreed to the adoption in the first place was to make Daddy happy; he always wanted a son to carry on the family name, and when she couldn't give him one, he kept hounding her until she finally agreed to it." She eyed him with contempt. "Of course, neither one of them knew what a major letdown you would be." She snorted with a laugh. "What a joke! They adopt you in hopes of the Kinney name being passed down from generation to generation and you wind up being a fucking queer!"

Brian felt like he had been punched in the gut, but he refused to allow the tears stinging his eyes all of a sudden to show as he told her sarcastically, "Yeah – looks like the joke's on all of you; the old man must be turning over in his grave. Of course, he knew before he went, too."

She gasped. "You told him?"

"Yeah, I did," he told her matter-of-factly. "I told him his kid was a fairy. Of course, now I know that's not true, don't I? I never was his kid in the first place," he reminded her smugly, ignoring the painful lump that inexplicably appeared in his throat; he had never felt like a part of the Kinney family anyway. "Talk about poetic justice."

"You think this is funny, Brian? You think it's funny that you've besmirched the family name just so your real, queer dad can get some publicity for his campaign? Don't try to deny it; this has got your name written all over it!"

Brian walked a couple of steps closer to stare down at her face to face as he told her with deadly quiet, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "I'm so distraught that you're disappointed in me, Claire, but it doesn't matter to me whether you think I did or not. I'm not going to lose any sleep over it and I'm sure as fuck not worried what you think of me. You've never respected me since the day I was born; was it because I wasn't related to you? Did you resent the fact that Dear Old Daddy wanted a big, strapping son to mold into his image rather than some prissy, whiny little girl?"

"Shut up, Brian!" she snarled. "Daddy always loved me more than you! You never gave a damn about him and he knew that! I'm glad you know now, because now I don't have to fake it anymore!"

"Fake what, Claire? Sisterly love for your little brother? Don't make me puke! You've hated my guts for a long time!"

Claire smiled. "You're right, brother," she retorted, ice dripping from her voice. "You were a disgrace to the family then and you're a disgrace….."

The heavy wooden door, which had been left ajar as the two talked, was suddenly flung open wider, startling both of them. A disheveled Justin appeared at the door, eyes blazing and face red as he stared daggers into the woman's eyes.

Brian smiled. "Claire, I'd like to formally introduce you to the little hubby, Justin Taylor-Kinney. Justin, you remember my dearly departed ex-sister, Claire."

Claire glared over at the blond contemptuously. "This is none of your concern…..Mr. Taylor," she said, saying his name like it was an infectious disease. "This is between Brian and me."

"The hell is it!" Justin roared instantly as Brian's eyebrows shot up in surprise at his tone. He had seen Justin before when he was in one of his queen outs, but none quite like this; the veins were actually threatening to pop out of his neck and his face was scrunched up in fury as he yelled, "I want you off our property…..NOW! Or I will personally throw you off!"

She snorted, giving the petite, slender blond a quick study; she had to weigh more than he did. "You wouldn't dare…"

"Oh, no?" he countered, basically ignoring Brian as he stepped out onto the small, concrete front porch and stared down at her. "You're a homophobic, uncaring, narrow-minded, frigid bitch!" To Brian's shock, Justin actually gave her a shove as Claire stumbled backward awkwardly, narrowly able to catch her balance before she fell. "Get the fuck out of here NOW!" he bellowed; Brian had to physically grab Justin by the shoulders to keep him from shoving his 'ex-sister' again as he lunged toward her.

"You're crazy!" she yelled at Justin as she backed up in wariness. "You both fucking deserve each other! I hope you both rot in Hell!" She abruptly whirled around and stomped over to her car, yanking the driver's side door open and hurriedly getting in before she quickly turned the ignition and put the car in drive. A few seconds later, the only evidence that she had been there at all was the now-discarded paper lying near the front door and the exhaust smell from her used car's tailpipe. Well, that and Justin's chest that was still heaving with righteous indignation for his husband.

"That motherfucking asshole!" he growled. "How DARE she? How dare she show up like that and say those things to you! If she ever shows up again, I swear I'll kick her ass from here to the street!" He continued to mutter under his breath, curses erupting as he spoke. Brian could feel him actually shaking in anger as he pulled Justin back against his chest and wrapped his arms around his waist.

"Shh…..It's okay," he murmured, softly rocking his husband in his arms. "She's gone, Justin. She won't ever bother us again." As he continued his attempt to calm Justin down, though, he couldn't understand why after all the horrid things Claire had just said to him why it hurt so much; why should he care about her or his former family now? He had a man he loved deeply, and a son he adored; he even had a new set of grandparents who cared about him and even a father that he would have the chance to get to know better and maybe eventually learn to consider a part of his real family. Why, then, should he care about what this horrible person thought of him? As he felt the pangs of pain and regret bubble to the surface, though, he realized he wasn't mourning what had been – he was mourning what might have been…..

He suddenly turned Justin around in his arms and hugged him in a fierce embrace, his hands gripping the blond's back almost violently as he sighed and a few tears escaped his eyes. He was finally comfortable enough in his relationship with Justin, however, not to be concerned with whether or not Justin noticed the wetness as he continued to hold him tightly against his body for several more seconds. At last, his silent tears spent, he pulled back enough to rest his head above the mop of golden hair. Justin instinctively nestled his head under Brian's chin and laid it against his chest, feeling the brunet's heart beating rapidly underneath him as they simply stood there in each other's protective embrace.

Finally, Justin raised his head and pulled back just enough to look into Brian's face; remaining silent, he slowly reached up to gently brush the shed tears from Brian's cheeks with his hands as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "Ready to go back inside?" he whispered tenderly as if he didn't even notice Brian had been crying. He knew precisely why Brian was upset, and he also knew Brian wouldn't want to talk about it right now or have him make a big deal out of it.

Brian gazed into his husband's eyes; God, he was so lucky to have this feisty, protective man by his side…He leaned down to kiss Justin lightly on the lips as a silent thank you for what he had done and simply for loving him. "Yeah," he told him softly. "Let's go back to bed." Right then, at that moment, he was holding what he needed most of all in his arms and what he needed to do most of all was show this man just how much he meant to him. The door was soon closed firmly, the discarded paper of contention and hate fluttering softly in the still-wet, dewy morning grass…..

Same Time – Fin and Tony's House – Harrisburg

Tony wriggled his nose as he momentarily felt something ticklish across his cheek; he soon, however, nestled back into the mattress as the pesky insect flew way. A few seconds later, however, it was back, along with a soft rumbling chuckle. His eyelashes slowly fluttered open as he oriented himself to the early morning sunlight streaming in from the French doors of their bedroom and realized who the tormentor was. "What do you think you're doing?" he asked, spotting Fin lying on his side in their bed, nude as usual and wearing only a mischievous grin as he propped his head up with one elbow. His partner normally abhorred sleeping in clothes and was quite comfortable in his own glorious skin; thank God they had security throughout the grounds or no doubt the relentless press would have long ago discovered his little predilection for not wearing nighttime attire and broadcast that fact all over the web and in the newspapers.

Fin held up part of a bright pink feathered boa in his free hand as he trailed it lightly this time over Tony's chest as the blond's skin rippled in response at the ticklish sensation. "You've been in my costumes again, haven't you?" Tony accused his partner, recognizing the distinctive piece of apparel he had used during a masquerade party they had been invited to last year. Of course, back then he and Fin had had to arrive – and mingle – alone; this was long before Fin had actually come out as gay and had revealed that he had a (gasp!) partner he lived with. They had managed to steal a few moments of privacy alone that night for a couple of quick kisses and some serious petting, but they had wound up leaving separately as usual to avoid any hint of impropriety or risk any chance of Fin's sexual orientation being revealed. He was relieved, then, that at last neither of them had to lie or hide who and what they were. That didn't mean, though, that for the next several months both he and Fin wouldn't be dogged constantly wherever they went during the campaign. Perhaps he shouldn't put up all of his disguises away just yet, then….

"If you wanted to borrow my boa, Fin, all you had to do was ask," Tony teased his partner with a smile. "I think you'd look hot in shocking pink." Of course, his sexy partner looked hot in whatever he was wearing, clothes or not….

"I think YOU look pretty hot right now," Fin murmured huskily as he hungrily gazed at the pale, smooth skin; his eyes swept down from the toned chest to the flat belly and then lingered on Tony's gloriously thick cock, which was springing to attention the longer he admired it. He looked up to see Tony blushing in response, adoring the way he could still make him do that even now.

He put the boa down behind him on the mattress and leaned over to bestow a kiss on the warm lips. "Why don't I try and cool you off?" he whispered against his partner's mouth as he heard the blond chuckled.

"No," Tony replied as Fin raised his brows in question. "But you can fuck me, though."

Fin laughed as he quickly pounced on top of his lover and proceeded to tickle him mercilessly with his bare hands until finally he couldn't help reaching down to once more kiss his partner's lips thoroughly in triumph, their passion quickly igniting as usual into a round of strenuous lovemaking….

One Hour Later….

"Fin?" Tony was lying in Fin's arms, their sweaty skin quickly cooling in the chilliness of their bedroom; neither man had wanted to get up to turn on their gas fireplace to ward off the chill, preferring instead to generate some body heat of their own to keep warm. The blond lightly stroked his fingernails across Fin's chest as the brunet held him in his arms against the side of his body. Tony cherished moments like these – too often, they had to rush out of the house for some important trial or voting session, and did not have the luxury of lying leisurely in bed after making love. Today, however, was Sunday; the one day when they could look forward to a little down time for just the two of them, and Fin had been religious about adhering to their unspoken rule not to schedule anything that would interfere with their private time, at least in the morning.

Fin slowly rubbed Tony's upper arm with his thumb as he raised his head to peer into the blue eyes of his lover. "Yeah, Baby?"

"Justin and Brian should be back by now," he reminded him. "You're still going to talk to your son about what we discussed, aren't you?"

Fin sighed as he gazed at his persistent partner fondly. "You're not going to let that drop, are you? Why do I have this sneaking suspicion that you and maybe another hot little blond are conspiring against both me and my son here?" It seemed that Tony and Justin had formed a rather close bond since they had met, almost in some sort of mutual protection of each other in light of being involved with two rather formidable, stubborn, and pig-headed men. Well, he and Brian were related after all…..

"I have not," Tony said rather indignantly as he sputtered in protest. "I haven't even talked to Justin since they got back." Although, he had to admit, he had thought about it. He would still consider it, too; he dearly wanted to get Justin's opinion on making Brian Fin's campaign manager. He thought with Brian's expertise as an advertising genius – and by the looks of his company's profitability he had to be approaching that status – and his personal stake in Fin himself, he thought it was a brilliant idea. He had managed to persuade Fin to ask his son about it, but he would love to know what Justin thought Brian's response would be. If Brian declined, it wouldn't make any difference what he or Fin thought…..

"Uh, huh," Fin replied with a smile. "I'll bet it's not for lack of trying, though; if I recall correctly, Justin mentioned that he had made Brian promise NOT to hang on his cell phone while they were gone. He was going to let everything go to voicemail, so I imagine Justin did the same. Are you going to stare back at me with those sexy baby blues and tell me you haven't at least left a message for Justin to call you when they got back?" As Tony flushed with guilt, he knew he really didn't need a verbal reply to his question….

Tony reached up to place his hand against Fin's cheek in admission. "Okay, maybe I did," he said sheepishly. "But only because I wanted Justin's opinion as to whether he thought Brian would consider it."

Fin sighed. "I figured as much. Tony….please – just let me do this myself. I should be the one to ask my son about it, without any coercion or persuasion from Justin, whom I'm sure has his finger tightly wrapped around him just like someone else I know that can talk ME into doing just about anything."

Tony's mouth twisted into a resigned pout. "Okay," he reluctantly agreed. "But that doesn't mean Justin and I can't continue to compare notes."

Fin rolled his eyes "That's what I was afraid of," he replied with a stern face; both men knew, however, that it was merely a façade; Fin could no more be mad at Tony than he could avoid kissing the asses, at least metaphorically speaking, of financial bigwigs at his upcoming fundraisers. "Just give me fair warning before you and Justin throw me under the bus with my son, then, okay?"

"We just like to compare notes," Tony countered, his eyes twinkling. "You two keep us on our toes." He reached down to curl his hand possessively around his partner's quickly-hardening cock, receiving the customary groan of pleasure in return; his heart as always did flip-flops over the power he held over this magnificent man. "But you can keep me off my feet as long as you want today."

Fin grinned. "Now that's the best rebuttal I've ever heard, Counselor," he said huskily as he leaned over and promptly began to ravage the soft, pink lips once more; as their arms wound around each other, just for a while the crazy world outside disappeared from view as the two lovers began their dance of passion once again ….

Monday Morning

"So, my happy little housewife, what's on the agenda today while I'm at work, slaving over my desk to put bread and milk on our table to keep food in your widdle tummy?"

Justin managed to land a pretty effective slap to Brian's hand in response as they sat at the kitchen counter finishing up their breakfast; fortunately, it was the one holding up the paper rather than his coffee. "Be careful what you say, Kinney," he growled. "Happy little housewives have used withholding sex since the days of Henry the 8th to get what they want. Why do you think he needed so many wives?"

Brian snorted. "Probably because he kept beheading them. We all know how cranky people are who don't have a good head on their shoulders, or any up their asses."

Justin rolled his eyes as he pushed him playfully, his eyes twinkling. "Isn't it time for you to go to work, He Man? Remember – longer commute." Actually, he would have liked nothing better than for Brian to stay home and keep him company, but he realized that was just wishful thinking. He knew Brian had to get back to Kinnetik to help keep his agency running smoothly. Brian was fortunate to have employees like Cynthia and Ted he could depend upon, but the major players he did business with wanted the personal touch and ego stroking that only Brian could give them.

Brian smirked. "Thanks for reminding me, twat," he said, sliding off the bar stool and swatting Justin on the ass. "Come here," he growled huskily as he pulled the blond off his adjacent stool. Justin fell into his arms as they came together for a passionate, tongue-dueling kiss that still made Justin's toes curls in delicious pleasure each time. As they reluctantly broke off their kiss, Brian couldn't help nuzzling Justin's neck briefly as he whispered softly in his ear, "I love you."

Justin raised his head to smile into the hazel eyes lovingly as his heart melted at the words and tone of Brian's voice. It had taken so long for Brian to say those words out loud, so fucking long, and even now, even after Brian was finally more comfortable saying them, each time he said them it made his heart do flip-flops. He placed both of his hands on either side of Brian's face to whisper back, "Come home soon."

Brian smiled as he gave Justin one more quick peck on the lips and nodded. "I'll be home before you know it, Picasso," he said softly. He reached over to take one more final gulp of coffee before placing the mug down on the counter and hurrying over to the kitchen planning desk to pick up his black briefcase and keys. "Let me know when the security people show up, okay?" he asked just before he turned to go. After his nasty encounter with Claire yesterday, he wanted to make sure they were aware of every person who showed up from now on. After the security people were done, no one would be able to enter their front wrought-iron gate without permission or a pass code and the total perimeter would be wired as well. He wanted to make sure that Justin was totally safe any time he was away from him; his husband tended to lock himself up in his studio and became oblivious to everything else going on around him when he was painting, and after the events of their recent honeymoon, something told him Justin was itching to get started on a new piece. "Justin?"

His husband nodded, already apparently distracted as he began to think of all the new ideas he had for his next painting. "Yeah, I'll call you," he reassured him with a smile.

"Make sure you lock the doors, especially while you're up in your studio," Brian demanded.

"How did you know I was going up to the studio?" Justin asked as he shook his head. He stared over at Brian sheepishly as the brunet raised his eyebrows in amusement with a distinct look of do you really have to ask? "Never mind….I promise," he assured him with a smile just before Brian gave him one final nod and escaped out the door heading into their garage.

Same Time – Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania

The tall, distinguished, older man with salt-and-pepper hair strode up to the rather nondescript, brick industrial building located on the outskirts of the city's manufacturing hub; although the eastern side of town had long ago passed the golden days of prosperity, it still retained a lot of the quaintness of its heyday with rows of townhouses and brownstones nearby, situated on mature, tree-lined streets. The beauty of the surrounding residential area had partially helped to keep the city from withering away completely, despite the rapid depletion of businesses that were dying off in the staid economy.

Conservative voters in the district, primarily firmly in the Republican camp, had helped create a groundswell of support for their hometown candidate, an affluent, no-holds barred businessman by the name of Richard Turner. Turner had never held public office before, and therefore seemed a highly unlikely candidate for serious contention as governor; however, through a mix of well-placed, influential contacts and constituents tired of the same old runaround from old-school politicians, he had somehow managed to come out of virtually nowhere to become the top Republican contender for governor against the Democrats' choice, State Senator Fin O'Connor.

The rather haggard-looking man who opened the front door to Turner's main campaign headquarters glanced across the room a little warily as he entered to see a likeness of the candidate plastered onto a large, white vinyl banner displayed on the opposite wall. Above the centered photo, which depicted Turner in a white business shirt with his sleeves rolled up, wearing black dress pants and sitting at a desk looking busily at work on the phone, was the man's name in big, bold, royal blue letters. Below his picture was one of his slogans in white letters with a red border: He will turn things around.

The tall man slowly walked up to a campaign worker, barely out of his teens, who was sitting at the wooden desk directly below the banner. He impatiently waited a couple of seconds to be acknowledged before finally clearing his throat to get the other man's attention. The brunet, wearing a small goatee and a button with Turner's likeness on it, raised his head to stare into the harsh-looking, dark-brown eyes; eyes that were somewhat confrontational and haughty in nature. "Can I help you?" he asked, finding himself just a bit flustered by the intense scrutiny.

The visitor opened his mouth to speak when he was interrupted. "Jim! Come on in! I've been expecting you!" He turned at the sound of his friend's voice. Richard Turner smiled and held the door open to his private office located in one of the larger rooms of the building. "In here," he said.

His guest nodded as he gave the younger campaign worker a sort of derisive sneer before walking over to join his friend; the worker gave him a curious glance as he left, wondering who this person was who had gained immediate access to his boss' inner sanctum.

As the door closed behind him, shrouding the two friends in privacy, he finally had the chance to speak. "Tell me that's not your campaign manager," he told the other man in distaste. If that was the best that Turner could do, he knew the man would be in big trouble against O'Connor, especially in light of who was no doubt going to be helping with his opponent's campaign.

Turner laughed. "No way, Jim," he said. "You know I have more sense than that. Now what did you want to see me about?"

"First of all, I need your promise to keep our discussions totally private," he warned the other man.

"Hey, as long as you keep finding all these big-buck supporters for my campaign, my lips are sealed; besides, I don't think it would be in my best interest to make it known that you're helping me with my election…do you?"

The other man glared at him defensively. "I'm well aware of that; do you want my fucking help or not?"

Turner held up his hands in surrender as he stated soothingly, "Of course I do, you know that. I'm as interested in making sure that fag doesn't become Governor as much as you are. Have a seat and we'll get started – I've got some coffee brewing – it should be ready soon." He smiled in an attempt to placate the glowering man staring back at him until finally his visitor nodded and sat down in a wooden chair facing his desk.

"Black?" Turner asked as his visitor nodded. Walking over to his credenza behind the desk, he deftly poured two dark-blue cups full of the dark liquid and brought them over to his visitor's chair, handing one to him as he took a seat in the empty chair next to him. "Now, my friend," Turner said as he took a small sip of his coffee and then balanced the cup on his left knee. "Tell me what you have in mind for my campaign."

Jim Stockwell smiled.

Two Hours Later – Britin

Justin beamed as he opened the door for his guest. "Hey!" Tony cried out with a smile as he impetuously reached over and gave the younger man a quick hug. "How was the honeymoon?" Of course, he really didn't have to ask; it was written all over Justin's radiant face. "Is Brian really as good an ad man as he claims?" He was actually asking for two reasons, only one of which had to do with the two men's honeymoon….

"Oh, my God!" Justin cried out in excitement, his blue eyes shining in recollection. "He is definitely an advertising genius! Wait until I show you what all he planned for us! Come on in," he invited his friend. Tony smiled as he followed Justin inside.

"I thought we'd eat on the back patio if you want," he said. "I've been upstairs in my studio painting and I'm ready to get some fresh air for a while."

Tony nodded as he followed Justin into the kitchen. "Would you grab a couple of beers out of the refrigerator?" he asked Tony as he snatched up a rectangular, metal platter with the words Ireland – It's for Lovers on the front that was holding a couple of Reuben sandwiches and some small bags of chips. When Tony had called Justin earlier to see if he might be free, Justin had hurriedly whipped up the two sandwiches for an informal lunch. In the short time he and Tony had known each other, they had become like kindred spirits – both involved with a father and son who were more alike than even they realized, and he had been looking forward to his visit.

Tony, also, had quickly come to admire Justin's tenacity, passion, and courage not only in his art but also his personal life. In fact, if it hadn't been for Justin's refusal to keep his and Brian's relationship or sexual orientation a secret, Tony might not have had the courage to give Fin an ultimatum regarding their own partnership. Ultimately, Fin had not only decided he couldn't live without Tony, it had also given him the impetus to admit to the public that he was gay and involved with someone. Now at least they could live more openly, although Fin was still cautious about publicizing it too prominently, needing to not only garner the liberal vote he mainly already had in his pocket, but also needing to at least grab some of the more moderate Republican votes if he were to have any viable chance of winning the election.

As he thought about the upcoming election, Tony sat down across from Justin at the patio's round table and eyed his friend thoughtfully. He wasn't sure how Fin would feel about him paying Justin a visit regarding this, but on the other hand, he didn't really think Fin would mind.

"Tony?" Justin asked, holding out one of the sandwiches. He had been trying to get his friend's attention for some time, but Tony's mind was obviously preoccupied elsewhere. "Something wrong?"

Tony smiled slightly in reassurance as he shook his head. "No…..Just something on my mind. I DO want to hear all about your honeymoon with Brian," he began, feeling somewhat envious over Justin's wondrous adventure when he was still trying to convince Fin to even consider getting married eventually. But I DO have something else I wanted to talk to you about, too." He glanced down and smiled in amusement at the tray holding their lunch. "Nice platter by the way. Honeymoon souvenir?"

Justin blushed. "Yeah….Brian had a fit when he saw it – said it was too tacky for his taste, but I insisted on a memento. I had to hide it in my own suitcase, though; it was the only way he'd let me bring it back with me." Justin took a sip of his beer before placing the bottle back down on the table as he eyed his friend curiously. "So…..what's up?"

"It's about Fin's campaign," Tony told him. "I had an inspiration while the two of you were gone and I wanted to run something by you. I figure you know Brian better than anyone."

Justin nodded. Yes, he felt confident that he did, at least now. It had taken a while before Michael's grasp as Brian's confidante ran its course; for the longest time, Brian still seemed to feel this pull to tell all his troubles and problems to his childhood best friend. Eventually, though, with Michael married to Ben and he and Brian drawing ever closer together themselves, Brian had finally felt comfortable coming to him first with his problems and worries. Now he could confidently state to anyone that he and Brian were not only husbands and soul mates, but best friends as well who shared everything. "What's up?" he said.

"Well, I remember you telling me that Brian had worked on some politician's campaign before, doing the advertising to help get him elected."

Justin shuddered. "Yeah….Jim Stockwell; don't remind me. Brian did such an effective job, he almost wound up getting the fucker elected. He was the biggest homophobic prick there was; if he had gotten elected mayor of Pittsburgh, the city would have been a major Gestapo destination." He shook his head, recalling how hard – and how much money – Brian had had to invest to reverse what he had done. Thankfully, Brian had finally realized how many freedoms they would give up were Stockwell to be elected and had gone to drastic lengths to secretly oppose the man's campaign– to the tune of $100,000 and at the risk of potential personal insolvency. Fortunately, partly through his own determination and a lot of financial help from his friends, a disaster had been averted just in time and the man had been defeated for mayor. Stockwell had ultimately wound up being incriminated in the death of Jason Kemp after his corrupt former partner, Kenneth Rykert, had killed himself. Due no doubt to his friends in both the police department and judicial system, however, the worse that had happened to the man was loss of his police pension and five years in prison. Justin figured the man was still rotting in jail somewhere, but he had long lost track of the guy as he concentrated on his art career and his marriage to Brian instead.

"That's what I thought," Tony was saying in response to Justin's remark. "That's why I think he'd be perfect."

Justin reached down to pick up his sandwich and take a bite, noticing Tony hadn't touched anything yet. "Perfect for what?"

Here goes, Tony thought. "Perfect as Fin's campaign manager."

Justin almost choked on his Reuben. "His campaign manager? Tony, you've got to be kidding me! What does Brian know about running a gubernatorial campaign?"

"Nothing," Tony promptly agreed. "Just like the majority of everyone else who runs them knows. Think about it, though, Justin," he continued, his voice rising in passion as he spoke. "He's the best advertising man around – you told me he took his new agency and made it profitable to the tune of several million dollars within a fucking year! And he's out and definitely proud; he doesn't take shit from anybody, and wouldn't in the campaign, either. And he's got a vested interest in the outcome, because I'm sure he'd want Fin to win. He wouldn't back down from anybody, including the press or hecklers. He's articulate, intelligent, and has to be a whiz at multi-tasking and prioritizing. Justin, he'd be absolutely perfect! Fin has a lot of backers and infrastructure in place, but the man who ran all his state senator campaigns had a heart attack last year and isn't in good enough health to tackle the big one for Governor." He leaned over the table to stare at Justin's incredulous face. "Justin, don't you think he'd be ideal for it? With Fin as the candidate and with his popularity among the masses already, and Brian's expertise in advertising, it would be great! And we'd even get the added bonus that they would be given a chance to do some good, old-fashioned father-son bonding along the way."

Justin momentarily forgot his sandwich as he held it up in mid-air and supported it with his elbow. "I don't know, Tony," he said hesitantly; his friend was actually beginning to make sense, though. It would be a good match for father and son. Brian hadn't exactly had a lot of experience with political campaigns, but he was an expert at promoting products and had almost managed to single-handedly get that fucker Stockwell elected. Even with the propaganda posters he had made up and pasted all over town, the man was almost unstoppable. Only Brian's ingenious rebuttal to his own advertising campaign had managed to bring the man down. If he could do that for a candidate he really didn't have any connection with, just think what he could do for his own father…

Tony could see the vacillation in Justin's eyes as he saw his friend mulling over the idea. "You think I'm right, don't you?" Tony pressed eagerly. It was almost as if it were meant to be…

Justin laid his sandwich down on a paper plate and rubbed his hand through his hair restlessly. Was Tony right? Could Brian be the right choice to head his father's campaign? Perhaps more importantly, how would Brian himself feel about it? Because when it was all said and done, he was the only one who could agree or refuse. He raised one eyebrow and pursed his lips together as he mulled the idea over further. "I have to admit – the idea is sort of intriguing."

"See?" Tony replied, smiling, getting excited that he was hopefully starting to win his friend over. He knew Brian was a very independent, proud man, but he also knew how much Justin's opinion meant to him. If he could get Justin in his camp, he felt sure that Brian would probably agree to do it. "Justin…Fin had some doubts, too," he conceded. "But once I talked to him about it, he's warmed up to the idea now."

Justin twisted one side of his mouth up in amusement. "You've really gone to bat for this, haven't you? I have a feeling though, that Fin is just as stubborn about what he does or doesn't want to do as his son is. Brian always listens to what I have to say, and he values my opinion but in the end, believe me, he makes up his own mind. The most I could do is just lay out the pros and cons and let him decide what he wants to do. But I'll back him either way." He didn't really relish the idea of their private lives being invaded even more than they no doubt already would be now that Brian's connection to Fin O'Connor was out in the open. But he would go along with whatever Brian decided, especially if it meant he might possibly become closer to his father. That had been one of his most fervent wishes for his husband from the moment he had found out that he had been adopted. Brian deserved to have a real father, if that was what he wanted, and Justin had to agree with Tony – this could provide father and son with a great opportunity to get to know each other better.

"It just might work, Tony," Justin admitted. "I have no doubt that Brian could pull it off; he could sell ice cubes to an Eskimo," he stated with a laugh. "Whether he would want to do it is another matter, though. You said Fin's in agreement with you?"

Tony nodded as Justin added, "So you want me to talk to Brian and feel him out on it."

Tony nodded. "Yeah….will you do it? I mean, at least talk to him and see how he feels?"

Justin nodded back at him. "Sure….should make for interesting dinner conversation, anyway," he said, grinning. He took another quick bite of his sandwich. "Now….ready to see more photos of Ireland than you ever thought possible?" He had taken practically a photo for each inch they had traveled in the country; he had taken a lot of good-natured ribbing about it from Brian, but he couldn't help it. He wanted to remember each glorious moment of their trip together.

Tony grinned as he nodded. "Bring them on – may be the closest I get to my own honeymoon."

Justin rose from his chair and smiled, knowing Tony was trying to come off as teasing but realizing there was a little hint of wistfulness in his voice, too. Maybe someday, Tony, he thought sympathetically as he walked over to the French doors to retrieve his camera. Maybe someday…..

Next Day - Mid-Morning, Kinnetik

Cynthia glanced up from her desk as the handsome man walked in; even now after knowing who this man was, she was struck by the likeness. There was no doubt where Brian had obtained his good looks. She smiled politely. "Senator O'Connor. It's good to see you again."

Fin reached over to shake her hand. "You too….and please, call me Fin."

She nodded. "Fin, then…..I assume you're here to see Brian?"

Fin smiled. "Yes….I'm sorry for just dropping in unannounced," he said apologetically. "I was down here on some other business, though, and thought I'd take a chance that he was here. I believe he and Justin were due back from Ireland a couple of days ago. Is he in by chance?"

Cynthia nodded. "Yeah, he's here – you know Brian; you can take the man out of the business, but not the business out of the man. I'm surprised he managed to go an entire week without conducting Kinnetik business from abroad. Just shows how much influence Justin must have on him." Of course, that was no real surprise to Cynthia – she knew Justin had had a major impact on Brian for a long time now. She had been struck by how happy and rested Brian had looked when he had walked in this morning; his honeymoon – and marriage – had obviously agreed with him. He had even brought her back a small gift as a token of appreciation for her help during his absence – a delicate, silver bracelet with a Claddaugh design. Justin had definitely changed Brian for the better in a lot of ways. "I'll tell Brian you're here," she told him as he nodded his thanks.

A few seconds later, though, she glanced back up at her visitor. "I can see he's on the phone at the moment," she told him regretfully. "Why don't you take a seat over there on the couch? I'll get you some coffee while you're waiting, and as soon as Brian's off the phone I'll let him know you're here."

Fin shook his head. "No, thanks, Cynthia; I've had four cups today already. I'll just go have a seat until he can see me." She nodded as he walked over to take a seat on a soft-brown, leather couch. Picking up a publication lying on the coffee table, he noticed it was an annual profitability report for his son's company. Leafing through it, he was impressed at the sales figures; Brian really was amazing. He had taken a fledgling company and had quickly turned into a multi-million advertising agency; THE most profitable one in the city, if he recalled his information correctly. Perhaps Brian was the best man for the job he had in mind – he just had to convince his son of that…

"Fin?" He looked up startled as the object of his musing walked up to him unexpectedly. He must have gotten off the phone before Cynthia had a chance to notice. "What are you doing here?" Brian asked him curiously.

Fin stood up, feeling just a bit uncomfortable for some reason. He wasn't sure why, but he still felt a little nervous when he was around his son; perhaps it was because it felt so much like staring back at his own reflection. "I….I wanted to talk to you about something. Do you have a minute?"

Brian studied his father carefully; he almost seemed apprehensive about something. "Uh….sure," he said finally, holding his arm out in the direction of his office. "This way," he said as Fin nodded and began to walk down the hallway, slightly ahead of his son. He heard Brian tell Cynthia he didn't want to be disturbed, and he felt some odd sense of pride in that; at least Brian felt his presence was important enough to give them some privacy.

"In here," Brian instructed him softly as they reached a large, contemporary room. "Drink?" his son asked him.

Fin normally didn't drink during the day, but at the moment he felt like he could use a little confidence booster. "Yeah, thanks," he said as Brian nodded and walked over to his wet bar to pour them both a shot of Beam. Walking over to his father, he told him, "Have a seat," nudging his head over to his cream-colored couch. Fin accepted the outstretched glass as he turned and sat down toward the center of the couch; he eyed his son quietly. Brian took a swig of his own drink as he chose to stand facing his father for now. He wasn't quite ready to be buddy-buddy with him just yet – maybe never. "So….what did you want to talk to me about?"

"Did you and Justin have a good time on your trip?" Fin blurted out. That wasn't what he had intended to say at all, but it was a nice, safe topic; an ice-breaker until he could ask Brian what he really wanted to ask him about.

Brian stared at him a little suspiciously. "It was fine," he told his father warily. "But I'm sure that's not the actual reason why you dropped in here unannounced. What do you really want, Fin?"

Fin took a deep breath, deciding it was time to dispense with the pleasantries. He actually respected his son's ability to cut through the bullshit and get right to the point, so he owed him the same courtesy. Without preamble, then, he simply replied, "I want you to be my campaign manager."