Chapter 2: Ash & Other Disasters...

Fall 2007...Pittsburgh

Wednesday, 8 days to the Thanksgiving holiday...

“I am about to sound like a complete and total sentimental lesbian, so you better pay attention, Sunshine – I wish you didn't have to leave, I miss you already and you better get your sweet bubble butt home next Tuesday as planned, because for the first time in my entire fucking life I am actually looking forward to the damned holidays. It's entirely your fault and you...”

“Owe you big time? Yes, Brian, I know...” Justin stood up on his tip-toes and kissed him hard on the mouth, completely disregarding any onlookers standing in the airport security line nearby. “I promise you will collect as soon as I get home. Your wish – any wish – will be my command and I will gladly and happily fulfill it; I will give you whatever your heart, or your cock, desires. I also promise that nothing, absolutely nothing on this earth will prevent me from being with you for the holidays now that we are finally together for good, OK?”

“OK, Sunshine. I'll hold you to your promise. Actually, I feel like it's my fault and I fucking hate that feeling.”

“Why?” Justin asked, bewildered.

“Because, I wish I was coming with you, but I promised Leo to have my team come up with a revamped campaign before Thanksgiving. I just can't let him down, Justin, Brown Athletics has been with Kinnetik since the beginning...”

“Brian, I know! You've already explained this to me, though you really didn't have to. Don't worry, I understand. This is work and it's important to both of us. Besides, it's just a few days – a weekend really. I'll be back before you know it and I'll drive you completely insane within a day trying to cook the Thanksgiving meal. Now, I better get in line and get through security as fast as I can or I might miss my flight. I love you, Brian. I love you more than I can say.”

They kissed again quite fiercely, then Justin disengaged himself from Brian's tight embrace and went to the back of the security line. Brian watched him for a few minutes – the line suddenly started to move quickly as a second security gate opened and within five minutes Justin was at the front of the line, shoeless, belt-less, jacket-less and taking off the bulky, blue cable-knit sweater he was wearing to ward off the unseasonable cold. The tight white t-shirt that Justin wore underneath the sweater rode up with his movements, briefly exposing a slender, elegant, alabaster back, sending Brian's libido instantly into overdrive. Then, the sweater was off, the t-shirt was yanked back down and Justin was about to step through the metal detector. “I can't let him go like that!” Brian thought and quickly walking up to the roped off security fence said loudly, heedless of the crowd around him:

“Hey, Sunshine!” Justin quickly turned around, smiling quizzically, “I love you, you hear me? I love you! I'll see you on Tuesday.” Then seeing Justin's face break out into an incandescent smile, he smiled back, waved and swiftly turning around strode out of the terminal.

~*~*~*~*~

Pittsburgh...

Monday, 3.5 days to the Thanksgiving dinner...

Brian worked all weekend long, shutting himself in his office at Kinnetik and then in his home office at Britin, even though the promised campaign revamp for Leo Brown was finished late on Friday night. He told himself that he was working so much in order to have his schedule completely clear for Thanksgiving dinner, for the family and invited friends. In reality, he just refused to think how much Justin's absence was affecting him, so he forcefully pushed any melodramatic and melancholy thoughts away and concentrated on work.

On Monday morning, he walked into Kinnetik and was surprised to find most of the office congregated around the large conference table in his office, watching the large flat screen TV mounted on the wall.

“Cynthia, what the hell is going on here?” He asked irritably.

“Eyjafjallajökull.” She answered absently, still riveted by the news coverage on screen.

“Gesundheit! Again, that's going on?”

“For fuck's sake, Brian, I wasn't sneezing! Where have you been all weekend long? Eyjafjallajökull is a volcano in Iceland that erupted on Sunday morning...”

“OK.” He interrupted, completely confused. “What the fuck does an Icelandic volcano eruption have to do with all of you idiots gathering in my office to watch television, instead of doing what I pay you a lot of money to do, which is to create brilliant advertizing campaigns? And why my office, by the way?”

“You have a 64 inch LCD - a much better option than the 32 inch one in the staff break room. And you might want to pay attention to what's going on with Eyjafjallajökull...”

“Cynthia, repeating the name won't make you seem smarter, you know?” Brian interrupted, smirking.

“Pay attention, Brian!” Cynthia barked, completely ignoring his barb. “The eruption itself wasn't a major one, but the ash that it spewed into the atmosphere is a pretty fucking big deal. The ash cloud is moving towards Europe, disrupting air traffic due to visibility being about nil. CNN International reported five minutes ago that Heathrow canceled half of their flights, and there are predictions that it will be closed entirely. Now which airport is Justin flying out of tonight, pray tell?”

“Fuck!” Brian suddenly realized why his mailbox was full of ignored voice mails – he was just about certain that Debbie and the rest of the gang have heard about the volcano and were calling him for answers he clearly didn't have.

He didn't want to talk to anyone on Sunday, so he turned his phone to silent and avoided any phone calls that didn't come from someone at Kinnetik. The only person he spoke to was Justin for all of two minutes on Sunday around noon and nothing about a volcano was said at all. Justin had a busy few days and he was running a bit late for the gallery. He hurriedly said that the show was still going great, his paintings were selling very well and the show promised to be a rousing success, even without him being there for half of the 10 day run. He asked Brian how the Brown Athletics project went and when Brian said that it has already been finished, Justin quickly congratulated him, told him he loved him, that he couldn't wait to see him on Tuesday and promptly hung up. That conversation, though Brian was loath to call it as such, painfully reminded him of many similar phone encounters during their long long-distance relationship, when they were both too damn busy to spend more than five minutes on the phone with each other. Those memories more than anything made him avoid any contact with the outside world and closet himself with work until he actually fell asleep at his desk.

Brian truly hated feeling like some sort of a co-dependent housewife, but the last month with Justin at Britin has been so good, that he truly didn't want it to end. This weekend was supposed to be a short separation and he was actually looking forward to the mayhem and the craziness that Thanksgiving

promised to be; but now, he was afraid that none of it would happen, if Heathrow were to completely close.

“Fuck!” He cursed again. “I really need to talk to Justin!” he thought. Brian's desk phone suddenly rang and he knew, somehow, he just knew that it would be Justin. He sprinted towards the desk and picked up the phone on the third ring.

“Justin?”

“Yeah, it's me, Brian. Wait, how did you know? I'm using a calling card.”

“No idea. I just found out about the damn volcano blowing up at the most inopportune time and I was just thinking about you.”

“Oh!” He sighed, in an awed, somewhat surprised way. He always sounded like that when Brian said something uncharacteristically sweet or romantic. That almost half-breathy “oh!” instantly reminded Brian of the first time he told Justin that he loved him amid the ash and smoke of a charred out Babylon.

“Earth to Justin!” Brian said gently, when the phone line went silent for about 30 seconds.

“Right...about the volcano. Brian, Heathrow just closed – BBC announced it a minute ago. Nothing is coming in or going out of London by air until the ash cloud passes. They say it could take a week, maybe more.”

“Damn! So much for you being home tomorrow. What about other airports? Paris, perhaps, have you heard anything?”

At that moment Cynthia came up to his desk and said that CNN International just announced that Heathrow, all other British airports and Paris Charles de Gaulle were closed; all flights in and out canceled.

“Never mind, Sunshine, Charles de Gaulle is closed too. Let's face it, you are not going to be home for Thanksgiving, so I better cancel the whole thing.”

“Don't you dare, Brian! I promised that I would be there, that nothing on earth would stop me, right?”

“Well, there's your loophole, Sunshine – it's the fucking volcano ash in the fucking air that's preventing you from coming home! Not exactly an earth-bound disaster.” Brian said, suddenly angry. He wasn't angry at Justin, but at the situation and at himself for being so irrationally upset.

“Hey, hey, don't give up yet, Brian! Ash or no ash, I'll try to figure out something. I'm not going to just give up like this. We don't break promises to each other, right? So, I'll do everything I possibly can to be there. It'll just take some creativity on my part and maybe some time, but unless every single airport in Europe closes, then I'll find a way to come home. OK, Brian?”

“Yeah, OK, Sunshine. Keep me posted.”

“I will. I've gotta go. I love you!”

“I love you too...” he said into an already dead phone line.

Within the next two hours it was announced that most European airports were closed or were soon closing. Flights to Europe already in the air were being redirected where possible and flights out of many European countries, were being canceled left and right. England was completely on lock down, at least as far as air traffic was concerned and Brian's heart was sinking with every passing minute.

~*~*~*~*~

Around 11:30 am Pittsburgh time, Justin called again. Brian picked up the phone and plastered a fake smile on his face, determined not to sound upset and make things more difficult for Justin. He was determined to weather this ash cloud mess with his usual aplomb and if Justin were to be stuck in Europe for the next two weeks – that's how long the news media were predicting this disaster could last – he'll take the disappointment and the separation like a man. “I'm Brian fucking Kinney, I can do this!” he thought as he returned Justin's hello.

“So, any news, Sunshine?”

“Brian, I have a plan! I managed to get a seat on a flight from Madrid to Atlanta Wednesday at noon. It seems it's one of the few flights to the US still available. With the time difference, I'll be arriving in Atlanta around 4:15 pm, then I'll be changing airlines and flying to Cincinnati – I swear, there was nothing, nothing I could find that would take me directly to Pittsburgh. It's as if the entire country has relatives in the Pitts and everyone collectively decided to spend their Thanksgiving there. Anyway, Cincinnati was the closest I could get, so I reserved a rental car and will be driving home from Ohio. My flight into Cincinnati will get there around 8:30 and the drive time to Pittsburgh is a little over five hours. Well, it might be a bit more with the holiday traffic, but it doesn't matter, because I'll be home around two or three in the morning on Thursday. I'll get a few hours of sleep and still have time to prepare the best Thanksgiving meal by the time everyone arrives at five o'clock!” Justin said triumphantly. “See, Brian, it will all work out, like I told you. The only thing is that you have to go to the grocery store no later than Wednesday and get all of the ingredients on my list. OK, Brian? I'll owe you another one.”

“Justin, that's a great plan, except you are in London and the flight to Atlanta is from Madrid. Nothing in England is flying anywhere, how exactly are you getting to Spain?”

“The train, babe, the train...well...and the ferry as well.”

“The ferry?” Brian asked in confusion.

“Yeah, there were no seats left on the Eurostar. My only option is to take the train to Dover tomorrow morning – I'm out of luck for tonight - then the ferry to Calais, then the train to Paris, then a night train to Spain. All these connections don't have a lot of time in between them, so I'm going to have to haul ass from one to the other, but I'll make it, I promise. Just get the groceries and we'll have the most amazing Thanksgiving together.” Justin said confidently, his voice clearly excited that he's found a solution to their dilemma.

“Justin...” Brian sighed, “listen, are you listening?”

“Of course, Brian.”

“Your plan is brilliant, but you'll be traveling for two days straight, you'll be exhausted...”

“We are not canceling dinner with the family, Brian!”

“I am not suggesting that. I am suggesting that we let Deb do the cooking, or mother Taylor, or both. Hell, I'll hire Emmett to do the food – he'll be ecstatic...”

“No way, Brian!” Justin was adamant. “This is our first Thanksgiving together, in our home, after a long-ass time apart. I love Deb, I love my mom and spending the holidays with them the last few years has been nothing short of amazing, but this is for us, Brian. This is our time! I want to start our life together in our home with a celebration that we, or I, create for our family...”

“There's still Christmas, Justin, and then New Years. It's only a month away. We can do this then...”

“No!” Justin was adamant, “I have a lot of things to be thankful for in my life, Brian. It may be sentimental or stupid, or whatever, but for some reason, this holiday has become very important to me over the last few years. I want – no, I need - to do this for us, for our family and friends. It's important to me, Brian.”

“OK. You got it, Sunshine. I'll get everything you need on the list.” Brian promised. “Get some rest tonight, Justin, it sounds like you'll need it.”

He had a suspicion that Justin's appreciation for the Thanksgiving holiday had a lot to do with the bashing. The very first year they met, Justin actively complained about participating in any sort of a celebration, calling it hypocritical, commercialized bullshit. A year later, though, he actually insisted on being at Deb's for Thanksgiving and although he never said it out loud (when everyone around the table was stating the one thing they were all most thankful for that year, Justin only mentioned still being a student at PIFA), Brian clearly saw in his eyes that he was most thankful for just being alive.

Brian couldn't care less about Thanksgiving himself, but for Justin, he would do just about anything. Therefore, if Justin wanted to travel for 48 hours straight across several countries and an ocean, and then spend hours cooking a traditional meal for 20 people, he wasn't going to argue much. Instead, he decided, he would help him.

~*~*~*~*~