Midnight Whispers
QAF Brian and Justin Fanfiction
Story Notes:

DISCLAIMER: QAF and its characters are the sole property of Showtime and Cowlip Productions; no copyright infringement is intended.

 

In this story, Brian is nineteen and Justin is seventeen and has an older brother rather than Molly.  His parents are actually still married in this story and are fairly supportive of both him and his older brother.

 

Author's Chapter Notes:

Just a little taste of the new story I will be writing.  Hope you like it!  In this chapter, Brian is forced to accept the lesser of two evils...

 

Alleghany County Courthouse – Downtown Pittsburgh

 

“Order!” was the booming cry from the uniformed bailiff as everyone in the small courtroom rose.  “The Honorable Judge Winston Harris presiding!”  The salt-and-pepper haired, tall, distinguished-looking judge emerged from his private chamber to take his seat behind the podium as the bailiff instructed the dozen or so people in attendance to be seated.

 

“The defendant will rise,” the bailiff intoned authoritatively as Brian rose to stand next to his attorney, a well-known defense lawyer that his father had secured for him.  He stood there stiffly, uncomfortable in a black suit, white shirt and black-and gray pinstriped tie as the judge critically gazed down upon his slim, tall figure, thinking how nonchalant and unconcerned the young man seemed, considering the seriousness of the crime he had pled guilty to.

 

He shook his head in disapproval over the young man’s bored look on his face as he glanced down at the plea agreement paperwork in his hands to make sure it was in order.  He wasn’t totally convinced that this was the most favorable option for this cocky-appearing kid or if he even deserved it, but if the unorthodox arrangement helped to straighten him out, perhaps it would be worth it.  From what he had read in his chambers earlier, the defendant, Brian Kinney, was highly intelligent with an I.Q. of 140 and came from a well-respected, long-established Pittsburgh family.  That hadn’t apparently kept him from taking an impromptu joyride, however, in an expensive sports car a month ago, a ride that had resulted in the vehicle being totalled.  Perhaps, though, by signing off on this agreement between the defense and prosecuting attorneys, he could manage to keep this know-it-all kid from delving into even deeper trouble.  It might be worth a shot, he thought silently; he normally was a good judge of character, though, and this young man staring back at him so defiantly didn’t seem too likely a candidate for rehabilitation. 

 

“Mr. Blackstone, you are in agreement with this plea arrangement?” he asked the assistant prosecutor as he peered down at him through his half-rimmed glasses. 

 

Mark Blackstone, the young assistant prosecutor, nodded as he glanced over at the defendant.  “Yes, Your Honor. We are in agreement.  We feel this arrangement would be in the best interests of everyone involved.  Mr. Kinney’s grandfather has agreed to provide full restitution for the damage to the plaintiff’s vehicle as a result of the theft and subsequent accident.” 

 

The judge nodded as he turned his head to eye the defendant and his defense attorney.  “Mr. Wyatt?  Your client is prepared to adhere to all the terms of this agreement?” 

 

The judge noticed a momentary expression flitter across the young man’s face that resembled annoyance or disgust before the defendant plastered a more neutral expression on his face.  He watched as the boy’s father, who was standing behind him in the courtroom, leaned over and whispered something in his son’s ear, his displeasure obvious, before the defense attorney responded, “Yes, Sir.  He is aware this will be his last chance.  I have been assured by my client’s father that he will be well supervised.”

 

“He’d better be,” the judge admonished him sternly as he stared down at the defendant standing next to the attorney.  “Young man, before I pass sentence, are you prepared to adhere to all conditions of this plea agreement as outlined by your attorney and the prosecution?”

 

Brian sighed heavily; actually he fucking hated the arrangement, but he had finally been ‘persuaded’ by his father and his attorney that it beat going to jail for stealing the ‘Vette; if it hadn’t been raining at the time of the accident, he would have beaten that arrogant Simpson kid on the curve without a problem.  It had been the first drag race he had ever lost in the past two years.  Now he’d be lucky if he ever saw another four-wheeled vehicle again; where his father was forcing him to go, he’d more likely be riding on a damn tractor than in a car.  His father had already told him in no uncertain terms that if he fucked again up this time he didn’t care if his ass rotted in jail for the next several years or not. 

 

The judge glared at him impatiently as Brian remained stonily silent.  “I’m waiting for a reply, young man.  Do you agree to abide by the terms of this agreement or not?”

 

Brian huffed out an annoyed breath as his father jabbed him in the back.  “Yes,” he grudgingly acknowledged. as the judge's piercing eyes continued to bore into him expectantly.  He felt a harder nudge to his upper arm as Brian finally added, “Your Honor” almost as an afterthought.

 

The judge stared at Brian skeptically for a few seconds before he finally nodded.  “Very well, then.  Brian Kinney, you are being given one more chance to redeem yourself and prove that you can straighten out your life.  This is highly unusual, but due to your family’s place in this community I am approving the plea agreement as agreed upon by your attorney and the prosecutor.  The sentence previously meted out to you is hereby suspended with the understanding that you are to be placed in the temporary guardianship of your aunt and uncle in Kentucky.  This court will expect regular updates from your attorney regarding your progress over the next six months.  If I catch wind that you have engaged in any nefarious, illegal activities while in their custody during that period, the suspension of your ten-year sentence will be promptly nullified and you will serve out your full term in jail instead.  Do I make myself clear, Mr. Kinney?”

 

Brian sighed again, turning his face away from the judge temporarily so he wouldn’t notice him rolling his eyes in disapproval. 

 

Derek Wyatt, the long-standing attorney for Brian’s family, leaned over to whisper in his client’s ear.  “You’d better appear more grateful for what he’s doing for you,” he told him firmly.  “This is rare for him, trust me.  They don’t call him the Hammer for nothing.”

 

Brian nodded finally as he peered up at the judge staring silently back at him from several feet away.  He sighed in resignation.  “Yes…I understand, Your Honor,” he finally said at last. 

 

The judge nodded, still unconvinced that this brash young man who had incurred several minor, juvenile scrapes with the law before committing this first-time, adult crime would actually be able to adhere to the conditions of the probation as set forth by the court.  “Very well then,” he responded curtly as he signed off on the agreement.  “Don’t screw this up, Mr. Kinney.  This will be your first – and last – chance.”  The judge pounded his worn, wooden gavel down firmly on the podium as he boomed out, “That’s all, gentlemen.  Court is adjourned.”

 

As he turned to go and the bailiff once more instructed the courtroom participants to rise, Brian tugged at the noose-like tie around his neck to loosen it, relieved at least that this part of the proceedings was over.  Somehow he suspected, though, that he was trading one sort of imprisonment for another. 

 

He turned as his father reached over the back of his chair to shake hands with the attorney.  “Good job, Derek,” Jack Kinney told him before his eyes bored into his son’s.  “I'm very grateful, even if my son isn’t.

 

Brian huffed out an annoyed breath.  “Well excuse me if I don’t kneel down and worship his expertise,” he growled.

 

“Brian Kinney, show some respect for this man!” his mother scolded him from her place at her husband's side, her voice frosty with disdain.  “Thanks to him, you were spared a jail sentence!  You should be thanking him for what he did – for what WE did,” she told him.  “Sometimes I wonder why we even bother with you.”

 

“Spare me the bullshit, Mother,” he growled back.  “We all know why you and dear Dad did what you did; you didn’t do it for me.  You did it to keep all your friends from knowing about it.” 

 

“Watch your language, Brian,” Joan Kinney spat out.  “You’re the most ungrateful child I’ve ever seen.  We should have just let you go to jail instead; it would have taught you a lesson.”

 

“Oh, but we couldn’t have that,” Brian reminded her.  “Everyone at Sunday mass would have been talking behind your back, then.”

 

“That’s enough, Brian!” Jack told him as he gripped his arm tightly and began to pull him toward the center aisle.  “Let’s go; you’ve got a lot of packing to do tonight.  You’re leaving first thing in the morning.  Your aunt and uncle will be at the bus station waiting for you when you get there.  You’d better not disappoint us, either.”

 

Brian rolled his eyes.  “I can’t wait,” he replied sarcastically.  “Did they have to empty the hay wagon out first to make room for me?”

 

“What did I tell you?” his mother replied scornfully as she turned to start walking down the center aisle ahead of them.  “He’s totally ungrateful for what we’re doing for him, Jack.”  She knew as soon as she got home she would have to take a drink; this had been one of the most humiliating and trying days she had had in a long time.  Wasn’t it bad enough that she had to live with a husband who didn’t give her any support or attention most of the time?  Now she was risking total humiliation if her friends found out about the disgraceful predicament her son was placing them in.  They had to get him out of town – quickly – before they all found out and she was totally embarrassed.  She turned to stare at her son and husband who were slowly walking behind her toward the exit; Wyatt had remained at the defense table, storing all his documents away in his briefcase as he, too, prepared to leave the courtroom.

 

“Can we please just go?” she entreated.  “This is much too public here, Jack.”

 

“Shit,” Brian muttered under his breath as his father began to propel him more forcefully toward the exit.  As they finally left the courtroom and headed for their sedan in the back parking lot, Brian suspected he was about to endure the worst summer of his life. 

 

 

 

 

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