DEDICATION:            To Chris for inspiring us to write this fic. To Lizzy for all of her suggestions and support on this fic.  To the entire MW Group.  They are the greatest group!!!  
 
FEEDBACK:  lelarose47@hotmail.com; zeezee65@yahoo.com; thebombdiggity84@yahoo.com
 
 
OCTOBER 26TH
 
Brian turned the key in the ignition one more time.  It sputtered but didn’t turn over.  Brian let out a sigh. He’d followed a trick home and fucked him but he hadn’t paid a lot of attention to the directions.   On the way home he’d gotten lost on the twist and turns of the street; now this. He’d turned down a dead end and there were only three houses on the street.  He was stuck on a dark road and not quite sure where he was.  He tried his cell phone again.  The battery was dead and he didn’t have his car charger.  He couldn’t believe that he’d forgotten to put it in the car; as a matter of fact he didn’t recall taking it out of the car to begin with.
 
He angrily beat the steering wheel with his fists.  It was cold as fuck outside.  He doubted his silk shirt, 501 jeans, boots and Hugo Boss leather jacket would keep him warm if he was stuck in this weather for any length of time.  His clothing was designer and fashionable, but certainly not meant to ward off cold.  He locked up his precious ‘vette and started towards the houses.  He tried the first two houses.  The doors and yards had tacky Halloween decorations from jack-o-lanterns, witches and ghosts.  Brian smirked.  *Another advertising success, he thought.*   No one answered the doorbell to either house.  In the distance he saw the lights of the last house on the street.  He shivered against the biting wind as he reluctantly made his way to the path that led up to the entryway of the house.
 
He looked at the exterior of the house as he approached.  The yard looked overgrown and unkempt; the house itself appeared to be in serious disrepair.  There were no lights in the bottom part of the house but there were some in the windows on the top floor.  The place was a little eerie and actually was giving him the creeps.  Brian zipped up his leather jacket and pulled up his collar.  He felt colder than usual standing on the porch of the house.  The house gave him a chilling, unsettled feeling.  Brian looked around.  This house reminded him of something he’d seen in one of those crazy ass Halloween movies he used to watch as a kid.  He looked around the dilapidated house.  All it needed was the eerie music.   He started to turn around but thought better of it.  
 
“Stop being a fucking drama queen,” he muttered to himself.  
 
He needed to call AAA and get his vehicle towed.  He braced himself against the eerie feeling the house was gave him and pressed the doorbell.  It didn’t seem to be working so he knocked soundly on the door.  He stood for a few minutes waiting for the door to be answered.  When no one came he knocked again, only harder. 
 
Justin tried to ignore the knock. He wondered why in hell anyone would be knocking at the door to this house anyway.  No one ever came to this house unless it was a bunch of teenagers looking for a place to get laid or wanting to visit a house were an unsolved murder had occurred. That was how he’d first met Daphne.  Justin let out a sigh and looked out the window to see what fool was knocking at the door.   
 
Justin had never seen anyone as beautiful as the man standing at the door. His body was long, lean and fucking luscious.   His hair wasn’t just brown; it was naturally highlighted with a mixture of reds and golds. His skin was smooth and tan.  He had a strong jaw line; an arrogant chin and his lips were full and pink.  Justin’s mouth watered just thinking about kissing him. Yet what held Justin’s attention were his eyes.  Hazel couldn’t begin to describe the color of his eyes. His eyes were a mixture of smoky greens, vibrant golds, and warm browns.  Looking into his eyes Justin understood the phrase, *the eyes are the windows to the soul.* In his eyes Justin saw pain, heartache, disappointment, but most importantly he saw love, caring and a passion for life.   Justin didn’t know his name but he knew who he was…what he was to him.  
 
Justin hesitated before opening the door, he had a feeling this person was not here by chance.  Just knew the man would be better off mentally if he left him standing on the porch, but it was unseasonably cold outside tonight and the man didn’t seem to be dressed for the weather.  He slowly stood back and opened the door.
 
Brian was about to give up when the door opened.  Brian found himself looking at the most beautiful ethereal kid he’d ever seen.  Brian guessed he was about 5’7” or 5’8” in height.  He had beautiful long honey blonde hair, full luscious pink lips, porcelain skin and the clearest, most amazing blue eyes he’d ever seen.  He felt impeccably drawn to him. The kid was absolutely beautiful.  Brian also noticed there was something a little eerie about him.  The air around the kid seemed to be cold…very cold and very still.   Eerily still.  Brian shook off his thoughts.
 
“I hate to disturb you but I saw the lights to your house.  I was wondering if I could use your telephone?”
 
Justin was so mesmerized by Brian’s beauty that for a few moments he didn’t hear his question.  The words finally registered to Justin.  “You saw the lights to the house?”  He asked incredulously.
 
Brian wondered what was wrong with the kid in front of him.  He seemed a little weird.  A little spaced out.  His eyes had a wild glow.   Brian wanted to ask the kid what he had taken.  Sometimes there could be some bad shit out there.  Maybe the kid had gotten a bad batch of E.  Hell, Anita had passed him some bad shit once.  He decided to give the kid a little friendly advice.  “Look kid you must have gotten some bad shit.  You have to be careful about who you buy your drugs from.”
 
Justin stood stunned.  Then finally he laughed when it hit him that the man thought he was high.  He decided to let him think it.  “Yeah, me and my friends were smoking a little,” he said.  Brian stood on the porch waiting for the kid to invite him in.  When the kid made no move to do it Brian took matters into his own hand.
 
“I’m Brian Kinney and you are…?” He reached out his hand to shake the kid’s hand.  Instead of taking his hand the kid stepped away from him.  Brian was surprised at the kid’s skittishness.  He slowly dropped his outstretched hand.
 
“I…I’m Jus…Justin Taylor.  It’s nice to meet you.”
 
“Now that the introductions are over I just need the use of your telephone.  My car stalled and the battery of my cellular is dead.”
 
Justin seemed to come to his senses.  “Oh, I’m sorry please come in,” he stepped aside to let Brian into the house. 
 
Brian looked around the house.  It was in as much ill repair as the outside of the house.  The house smelled old and musty and the furniture was covered with sheets. The floor seemed to be worn and dirty.  It didn’t even look lived in.
 
“This way,” Justin directed.
 
Justin turned and led him up a flight of steps.  Brian noticed the steps were dusty but basically sturdy. What he noticed most was the delectable bubble ass in front of him. He loved the kid’s ass.  The kid wasn’t his usual taste in men.  Brian preferred men close to his age, his height with dark hair and eyes.  The kid was probably barely out of his teens, he had blonde hair, blue eyes, lithe figure, medium height with a luscious bubble ass.  Brian was so busy watching the kid’s ass he missed the dust, dirt and cobwebs along the staircase.  
 
They came to the top of the stairs and Justin opened a door. Brian hesitated only for a moment before following Justin through the door.  Brian stopped immediately surprised by what he saw.
 
The space was bright, warm and homey.  The furniture was in bright vibrant jewel tones.  The floors were dark warm wood grain. The walls were covered with paintings and sketches some in charcoal, some in watercolors and others in oils. It was an open circular room divided into three sections with glass block walls.  Double French doors led out onto a balcony flanked by an ivy-covered trellis.  
 
The circular room had a simple floor plan.  There was a cozy seating area with a large sectional sofa piled high with pillows, a rug in a vibrant swirl pattern covered the floor.  A group of large floor pillows faced a large big screen Television.  The bedroom was decorated with a large king-size bed with a thick multi-colored bedspread in deep rich colors.  At this moment the bed was in total disarray.  Two night tables flanked the bed and a large wardrobe and chest completed the bedroom ensemble. Near the floor to ceiling windows several easels were set up.  The place looked warm, inviting and lived in.  Far from the immaculate, sterile designer furnished loft he lived in.  For some reason Brian liked it.  
 
He turned to Justin.  “Nice place. Of course the rest of the house needs some work,” he teased.
 
Justin blushed, “Thanks.  I just got the place.  I need do some repairs.”  It was the first time that anyone other than Daphne had seen his place.  “Ah, the telephone is over there,” he said pointing to the desk in a small alcove. Daphne insisted on installing the service for him. Why, he’d never know.  She was the only person he spoke to. 
 
Brian walked over picked up the telephone and called his auto club.  He gave the location of his car and ended the call.  Brian turned around and caught the kid staring at him.  Brian knew that look.  He’d seen it millions of times.  He had grown used to the effect his looks had on men and women.  The thing was the kid was giving him mixed signals.  He was coming on to him yet physically he kept his distance from Brian.
 
“They will be here in about thirty minutes,” he informed the kid.
 
“Ah, okay,” Justin, answered.  He’d never felt like this before not even with Ethan.  He wasn’t quite sure how he was supposed to act.   Truthfully he’d never been in this situation before.  He could tell that Brian was attracted to him by the way he watched him.  He just didn’t know what to do about the attraction they were feeling.
 
Brian smiled at the kid’s nervousness. He decided to try to put the kid at ease.  He walked over to the paintings.  Two of paintings were of fields, trees and flowers.  There were sketches and paints what must have been Justin’s family.  It was a painting of Justin, an older man, woman, and a little girl.  They all looked alike.  They looked happy to be together.  Brian smirked they seemed a far cry from his family.  Brian found himself liking the family.   He wondered if the kid would be willing to do a few sketches and paintings of Gus.  He’d asked him about before he left.
 
The other sketches and paintings seemed to be of a young beautiful girl, with tan skin, long curly reddish brown hair.  She came to life on the canvas; a testament to Justin’s talent.  She had sparkling chocolate brown eyes and an infectious smile.  Justin had put a lot of love into the renderings of the girl.  Maybe he had been wrong about the kid.  Maybe the kid was straight.  Or perhaps the kid was hiding from who he was.  Brian shook off his doubt.  He was never wrong about these things.  He knew the kid was Gay.  Maybe the kid hadn’t realized it yet.
 
“These are wonderful.  Did you do these?” Brian asked.
 
Justin basked in his praise, “Yes.  I did.”
 
“Do you take commissions?”  Brian asked.
 
“Ah, well.  I’m not a real artist, but I guess I could,” Justin answered.  “Why?”
 
“I’d like you to do a few sketches and paintings of my son Gus.”
 
Justin was taken aback at the mention of his son.  He was new to the Gay thing but he thought Brian had been checking him out tonight.  Maybe he was wrong.  Brian had a son.  Brian had to be straight.
 
Brian saw the look of confusion on Justin’s face and laughed.  “I’m Gay,” he answered with out preamble.
 
Justin wondered if Brian could read his mind.  He found himself blushing again, “Oh, it’s not my business.”
 
“No it’s not,” Brian agreed.  “I just wanted to make things clear.”  Brian went through a quick narrative. “Gus’ mother, Lindsey is a good friend of mine.  She’s a lesbian.  She and her partner, Melanie wanted a baby.  I supplied the sperm.  I jerked off in a cup.  Melanie fathered via turkey baster, and viola!  Nine months later they are mothers and I’m a father,” he ended the narrative with a flourish.
 
Justin laughed.  “That’s quite a story.”
 
Brian thought about Michael, Debbie, Vic, Emmett and Ted.  “Wait until you hear about the rest of my family and friends.  They will either have you running away screaming or laughing so hard you’ll piss your pants.”  
 
Justin burst out laughing at Brian’s description of his family.  Justin knew he’d love to meet the people that Brian described.  Brian found himself lost in Justin’s deep rich laughter, his sparkling eyes and Sunshine smile.  
 
Brian was a little shocked at how much he was divulging to this kid. He didn’t even know why he explained Gus’s conception.  Or mentioned his family and friends. It was something about the kid that made him want to share everything with him.  
 
“Where is your family?”  Brian asked.
 
Brian saw the sad look that came in the kid’s eyes, “They moved away a long time ago.  We haven’t seen each other for years,” he said despondently.
 
Brian thought about that.  Justin drew and painted his family so lovingly, but Brian knew that impressions could be so false.  He thought about his family.  To the outside they looked like a perfect Catholic nuclear family.  No one would have suspected the emotional, mental and physical abuse that went on behind the walls or his home.
 
For a moment an awkward silence followed as Brian’s eyes literally devoured Justin.  He wanted to fuck the kid until they were sweaty, sated and exhausted.  Brian turned away from Justin. Not quite comfortable with the intensity of his emotions for the kid.  He decided to get back on safe grounds.
 
Brian pointed to the picture.  “She’s beautiful.  Is she your girlfriend?”
 
“Ah, yes.”  When Brian raised is eyebrow Justin hurriedly continued, “but not in that way.  She’s a girl that’s my friend…my best friend. Her name is Daph…I mean Daphne…Daphne Chanders.”
 
“So, your best friend is a girl?”
 
Justin thought about how he’d met Daphne over seven years ago Halloween. She was now a junior in college.  Over the years she had stood by him, kept him company, did research for him.  If it wasn’t for Daphne he knew he’d probably be very lonely and most likely insane.
 
“Yeah, she’s the best.  A little hyper, a little crazy, a complete Diva Without A Cause…but still she’s the best.  I’d do anything for Daphne”
 
Brian laughed at his description of Daphne.  Brian also was amazed at the depth of the feelings he expressed for her.  Brian wondered if anyone would ever feel like that about him. He looked at Justin.  There was something about the kid that just pulled him.  Made him want to be with him, be near him.   He felt comfortable in the kid’s presence.  He’d spent more time talking to the kid than he did to most of the people he knew.  He wondered if he had enough time to fuck the kid.  He wasn’t much into chicken but the kid was hot.  He’d salivated as his bubble ass had preceded him up the steps and he knew the kid was interested.  Justin’s eyes were eating him alive. He just had to work on getting the kid over his skittishness.  Then another thought entered his mind. 
 
“How old are you Justin?” 
 
Justin wasn’t sure where this was leading, but he answered the question, “I’m 18 and how about you.”
 
Brian smiled, “I’m 29.  I’ll be 30 soon, practically and old man.”
 
“That’s not old at all.  Besides you are a very nice man.”
 
Brian laughed sarcastically, “Many people would disagree with you.  They all think I’m a heartless arrogant asshole.”
 
“Maybe they don’t know you very well.  I think you are a good person,” Justin said sincerely.
 
Brian didn’t know why but the sincerity of Justin’s words touched him. He never thought he’d want someone to call him a nice man and good person but yet coming from Justin what seemed like a small comment meant a lot.
 
“Thank you,” he mumbled awed by his feelings for this kid.
 
Justin shyly smiled.  “No thanks needed for the truth.  When is your birthday?”
 
“In five days. I’ll be thirty.”
 
Justin added it together quickly, “That means you were born on Halloween.”
 
“Yeah, the event was a horror for my father,” he laughed sarcastically.
 
“Do you know what time you were born?”
 
Brian didn’t know why it mattered but he answered the question.  “My Dad won’t let me forget.  He reminds me every year.  I was born at 10:31 in the evening.”
 
“Why?” he asked now truly interested.
 
“Ah, no reason,” Justin mumbled.  It now made sense to him.  He now understood everything perfectly.
 
Brian stared at him.  Something was going on with the kid.  If possible he looked as if he’d gotten paler. “Are you okay?”  Brian asked.  He reached out to touch Justin and Justin backed away from him.
 
“Yeah, fine,” Justin managed to get out.  “Maybe you better get to your car.  The tow truck should be there by now.”
 
Brian wondered what had happened.  All of a sudden the kid had gotten distant.  He couldn’t figure it out but the kid was pulling away from him.  With the answer of those two questions Justin’s brilliant blue eyes had taken on a hard cold distant look.  He’d completely shut himself off.
 
“I’m sure you can find you way out, Brian,” he said.  His voice seemed to reverberate around the room.  Brian watched as Justin slowly moved to the door.  He opened the door and stepped away from it.  Brian wanted to protest but he didn’t.  If this was the way the kid wanted it then this was the way it would be.  He was Brian Kinney.  The last thing he needed to do was run after dick and a nice piece of ass.  He shrugged it off.  “Sure.  Thanks again for the use of the telephone.” He walked out the door.
 
Brian walked out the room.  He trotted down the steps and out the house.  He stopped to look back at the house as he was walking away.  He spotted the silhouette of the kid looking out at him.  He couldn’t figure out what had gone wrong.  He thought he and Justin were connecting and then Justin turned distant and cold on him.  He didn’t understand what had happened.  Brian slowly walked to his car going over everything in his mind.  He didn’t have to wait long for the tow truck.  The driver was a very talkative an older African American man who introduced himself as Eddie.   After his car was loaded on the tow truck he climbed in the cab of the tow truck.  He turned to look at the house one more time.
 
“Why do you keep looking at that vacant house?”  Eddie asked.
 
Brian looked at him confused.  “That house isn’t vacant.” 
 
“Of course it is.  It’s been vacant for years.  That’s the infamous Taylor house.”
 
“Taylor house?” Brain repeated confused.
 
“Yeah, you know the Taylor house?” Eddie said trying to jog Brian’s memory but nothing was clicking with Brian.
 
“You are a young cat you probably don’t remember.  On Halloween night about 30 years ago the owner’s son walked in on a robbery in progress and was murdered.  The kid’s killer was never found.  Over the years a few people have lived in that house but not for long.  They all said it was haunted.”
 
This was sounding like some fucking Hollywood Halloween movie. Brian didn’t want the ask the question but it slipped past his lips, “What was the kid’s name.”
 
“Justin Taylor.”
 
 
OCTOBER 31ST (Thirty Years in the Past)
 
Justin decided to go to Philadelphia to hear his boyfriend Ethan play in his first major recital.  On the way he’d had a flat tire and had to pull over and change the flat.  Then he had to find a service station to repair the tire and put it back on the car.  He’d missed the recital but he had gone to Ethan’s hotel room to surprise him.  Justin had made up his mind he was ready to be with Ethan in every way. Ethan was a couple of years older than Justin and even though he tried to be patient he made it clear to Justin he was ready to take the relationship to the next step. Ethan was not expecting Justin to come to his show, so he would get a double surprise when he realized why Justin had come.
 
Unfortunately, Ethan had a surprise for Justin as well.  Ethan had opened the door with a towel wrapped around his waist.  Justin stood stunned as he took in the scene before him.  Orange candles were placed strategically around the room giving the hotel room a soft romantic glow.  An empty bottle of wine and glasses sat on the nightstand with a half eaten plate of fruit.  One of Ethan’s tapes played softly in the background.  Laying stretched out on the king sized bed was the guy Ethan had just fucked.  A guy much like Justin himself--young, impressionable, and idealistic--just the type of young man that was impressed by Ethan’s romantic gestures.  
 
“Justin let me explain,” Ethan had whined.
 
Justin had looked at him in disgust.  “What happened?  You tripped and your dick fell in his ass.”
 
The groupie on the bed piped in, “Ethan who is that?”
 
Justin looked past Ethan and answered the groupie, “I’m his ‘muse’,” Justin answered sarcastically.
 
“Huh?” The groupie asked confused his eyes darting from Justin to Ethan.
 
Ethan had stood in front of him looking stupid.  
 
“Fuck this,” Justin muttered.
 
Justin turned on his heels and walked away. He didn’t even give Ethan a chance to try to lie his way out of the situation.  Justin let out a sigh and shook the thoughts away.  There was no need to beat himself up about his stupidity and naivety now.  He’d have plenty of time for that later.
 
Justin parked his car in the driveway instead of pulling it into the garage.  He was tired, angry, hurt and disillusioned.  He looked up at the large home he lived in with his parents and younger sister. They had all gone to a Halloween Party at the country club, though Justin had stayed behind.  He opened the door and walked inside the house absently tossing his keys in the bowl on the console table.  He thought about going over to the country club to be with his family but he knew he wasn’t in the mood to be around people; the pain and hurt hadn’t had a chance to settle in yet.  He knew that by tomorrow he’d feel the emotional pain and feeling of hurt and betrayal.  Until then he welcomed the numbness he was now feeling.  
 
Justin looked around the house. Something felt wrong. He couldn’t place it but something was wrong.  He walked further into the large room.  The cool air hit him and he noticed the French doors leading to the patio were open.   A breeze was ruffling the curtains.  Justin looked around apprehensively.  He couldn’t imagine his Mom forgetting to secure the house.  She as very diligent about making sure the house was secure because of the rash of home robberies in the area.
 
Justin looked around the room again.  Everything seemed to be in order.  He shrugged it off.  His Mom was probably so busy getting ready for the Halloween Carnival and putting the finishing touches on Molly’s costume.  Justin smiled thinking about Molly’s costume. She had surprised everyone and instead of wanting to go as a princess or something girly she had wanted to be a pirate.  Satisfied with his rationalization Justin walked over and shut the door.  He grabbed some Oreos and soda from the kitchen and headed to the family room.  As soon as he entered the room the wrongness of the room hit him.  The room was in shambles.  Things were strewn around the room.  The bookshelf had been turnover its contents littered across the floor.  The wall safe was open and most of the things it had held were now gone.
 
Justin started backing from the room. He heard a noise and turned around.  He didn’t see his assailant. The only thing he focused on was the gun pointing at him.  Justin had no time to react as the bullet tore through his chest slamming him against the wall with such force it knocked the breath out of his body.  The Oreo cookies and the soda fell to the carpet floor the soda bursting and spraying across the assailant. Justin didn’t notice it.  What he noticed was the burning sensation in his chest.   
 
Justin looked down at the red stain quickly spreading over his white button down shirt.  He bumped into the table.  A bowl where they kept keys and odds and ends fell to the floor.  Some of the contents of the bowl spilling on the floor.
 
Before he could register the pain from the first shot another bullet tore through his body a few inches from the first one.  The metal burning into his chest on impact.  He let out a gasp and grabbed his chest his fingers came away covered in his hot red blood.  He looked at the man that had just shot him.  His face was fuzzy and clouded.  Justin couldn’t make it out.  He saw something drop from his assailant’s pocket. He doubted if his assailant noticed it.  
 
Justin realized that he was dying.  He glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner.  It was close to 10:31 p.m.  With his last cognizant thought the irony of it hit him before his mind began to blur.  He didn’t have time to think or to be afraid.  He only had time to crumble to the floor and die.
 
 
Jack and Joan had been arguing most of the day.  Claire had wanted to go trick or treating.  Joan had been too tired to take her and Jack had been too drunk.  Eventually, Debbie Novotny, came by with her four-month-old infant son in a pumpkin costume. She’d moved in next door recently, having relocated when she’d lost her husband in the Vietnam War.  Once she realized little Claire wanted to go out she’d volunteered to take Claire with her. Joan had jumped at the offer.  A couple hours later Debbie had dropped Claire off with a bag full of Candy.  Joan had let her eat a few pieces and then put her bed.
 
Joan was sitting in her chair trying to ignore the bellows of her husband.  He had been calling her for over thirty minutes to get him another beer.  She had been trying to ignore him.  All she wanted was a little rest from her demanding, unappreciative daughter and her equally demanding unappreciative husband.
 
She heard Jack stomping through the house she knew he was coming to her.  She struggled to her feet.  He came to her his face was red, splotchy, flushed from too much to drink and anger.
 
“Didn’t you hear me tell you to bring me a drink?” he raged.
 
She looked at him.  He had once been so handsome.  That’s why she’d gone after him.  That’s why she had wanted him.  Lately she couldn’t remember what had made her chase him.  Give her virginity to him.  Trap him into this hell they called a marriage.  She had made her bed and now she was forced to lie in it.  She let out a weary sigh, “Jack if you want a beer get one.  You are more capable than I am.”
 
He looked at her protruding stomach in disgust.   “It is your fault that you are fat and out of shape.  I told you to get rid of it,” he spat.
 
“You know that I couldn’t do that.  It is against my religion.”
 
“I thought sex out of wedlock was against your religion too but you didn’t have any problems doing that,” he taunted.
 
Joan pursed her lips in displeasure, “Don’t be crass Jack.  If you want to stay up drinking you go right ahead.  I’m going to bed.”
 
She tried to push past Jack but he was a mean drunk.  He was angry that she would try to dismiss him.  He grabbed her arm pulled her to him. She tried to shove him away.  In the tussle he pushed her.  With the excess weight she lost her balance.  She screamed as she flipped over the chair and landed on the hardwood floor face first. The force of the landing more painful than any thing she could remember.   She tried to turn over but she felt weak, disoriented.  In the distance she heard noises and realized she was blinking in and out of consciousness.  Time seemed to move fast and slow down at speeds she couldn’t quite keep up with.    She knew she was on a gurney then in an ambulance, and finally the hospital.  Her clothes were cut from her body and then a mask was placed over her nose and mouth.  She heard the doctor talking to her but his words were slow and distorted.  Then she heard the wails of a baby.  Someone told her “congratulations it’s a boy.”  She looked at the wall clock.  10:31 p.m.  She heard someone ask about a name.  
 
She mumbled a response, “Brian Aidan Kinney.”
 
 
OCTOBER 27TH (Present)
 
He’d made the call from that house.  He knew that.  There was no way that he’d been dreaming or fantasizing.  Barely 45 minutes had passed from what he’d calculated by his watch.  He’d talked to Justin Taylor.  Brian Kinney had a conversation with a dead man, except, he couldn’t be dead.
 
Right?
 
Brian rolled himself out of bed.  It was noon on a Tuesday.  Gardner had forced him to take his paid vacation days and though he’d fought it at the time, he was glad for it.  He never would have admitted it to anyone, but he was running himself ragged trying to prove that he was good enough to the new owner.  To prove that he was good enough to be partner.  Well, he’d achieved his goal, and right away Gardner had told him that he should take the week off for his birthday.  
 
As if he really wanted all that much time to contemplate his upcoming thirtieth birthday though.  What a crock of shit.
 
Walking into his bathroom, Brian stepped into the shower.  This was royally fucked.  The tow truck driver had to be wrong.  He must have been thinking about another situation, or a different story, or, well, something.  Yeah.  That had to be it.  After all, Halloween was right around the corner.  People were constantly trying to out spook one another, seeing who would piss in their pants first.  
 
Getting out of the shower he got dressed, satisfied with the explanation that he’d given himself.  It was logical, it made sense.  The tow truck driver probably didn’t know that someone had moved into the house.  The name thing…well…the house had probably been kept in the family, and Justin was probably a legacy.  A family name now.
 
Walking into the kitchen for some guava juice, Brian paused as he walked past his computer.  The monitor whirred to life suddenly.  Puzzled, Brian walked over to it and waited for it to load so he could shut it down.  He watched as all his various chat engines opened.  As his AOL Instant Messenger sprang to life, a blond head caught his attention in the new notification pop up that normally annoyed him along with a serious headline.
 
Rolling his lips into his mouth, he thought, ‘No.  Couldn’t be.’
 
Shutting all the other programs down, Brian scrolled through the headlines until he got to the one he wanted.  Sure enough, Justin’s blond haired, blue eyed, the 
smiling face stared back at him along with the headline,  ‘Thirtieth Anniversary of Young Artist’s Death.  Polls rise for Stockwell as he vows, ‘Never again!’
 
Well, shit.  Six hours later, that was exactly how Michael found his best friend.  Hunched over his
 
Well, shit.
 
Six hours later, that was exactly how Michael found his best friend.  Hunched over his computer, gaze focused on an article in some paper from about thirty years ago.  Noticing the various bottles of water and empty container of guava juice Michael spoke, “Brian, why haven’t you answered your phone?  Did you find some hot new porn site?  It looks like you’ve been sitting at that computer all day.”
 
Jumping slightly, startled, Brian shifted his gaze from the computer screen to stare at his friend.  Looking around he noticed the loft was layered in various purples, pinks, and golds cast by the setting sun.  Suddenly, he felt his eyes start to water.
 
“Fuck.  What time is it Mikey?”
 
Consulting his watch, Michael responded, “Six o’clock.  I’ve been calling you from the store since like, 2 or 3.  I was going to see if you wanted to meet at Woody’s.  When you didn’t answer, I got worried.  What are you doing?”

Michael walked over to Brian’s computer and looked at the screen.  Instead of the porn he’d expected, he saw a newspaper article. 
 
“‘Artist’s Killer Still At Large; Police Running Out of Clues.’ What the fuck is this Brian?”
 
“Nothing Mikey.  Just got caught up in a murder mystery.”
 
“Why?  What brought that on?”
 
Brian shrugged, he hated Michael’s constant onslaught of questions.
 
“I was looking for some action earlier, and the headline popped out at me.  He was hot.  Fucking waste of good ass if you ask me.  Obviously the killer wasn’t a fag.”
 
“Brian!  That’s disgusting.”
 
“Why?” Brian asked, confusion etched into his face.  His friend’s logic escaped him.
 
“Because, I don’t know.  He’s dead and stuff.  It’s like, disrespectful,” Michael replied, making a face as well.
 
“So?  Yeah, he’s fucking dead, so what does it matter?” 
 
“It’s like, dead people fucking or something,” Mikey responded, shuddering visibly.
 
Brian just rolled his eyes and walked to his bedroom to pick up his leather jacket.  Shrugging it on, he grabbed his keys off of his computer table and walked towards the door.
 
“So you’re coming to Woody’s then?” Michael asked grinning, previous conversation gone and forgotten.  
 
“No.”
 
“Well, where are we going then?”
 
Brian paused in the middle of adjusting the collar to his jacket.  Turning to look at his best friend, he replied,
 
“I don’t know where the fuck you’re going, but I’m going out.”
 
“Briiiiiiian,” Mikey whined, “you’re on the vacation.  We’re supposed to hang out!  We haven’t hung out in like weeks!”
 
“Mikey, quit being so fucking dramatic.  We’ll go out tomorrow or something.”
 
“Well, where are you going?  Are you sure I can’t come?”
 
Rolling his eyes and sighing, Brian pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger.  “I’m going to the library, Mikey.”
 
Michael scrunched his face up, thinking for a moment, “The library?  Is that a new place?  Did it just open, because I haven’t heard of it.”
 
Brian stilled.  It was a moment before he spoke again.  “Yeah Mikey, it’s new.  Not your crowd.”
 
~*~
 
Brian staggered into the loft around midnight.  Something was up, he was sure of it.  He’d found more and more articles on the mysterious situation surrounding the Justin Taylor murder.  The different articles swam around his head.
 
*Only 18 years old.  Not supposed to be home.  Murder unsolved.  Certain things missing.  Quarrel with his lover.  Suspect list exhausted.  Case left open.  No more leads.  Family never sold the house.*  The list just continued.
 
Making a decision, Brian turned on his heel, and just as quickly as he’d entered, he left again.
~*~
 
He couldn’t remember exactly how he’d gotten there, but it seemed like it was all instinct.  He’d just known how to get back to the Taylor house.  Now that he’d arrived, he remained in his loaner car, his Corvette still in the shop. Maybe he had been dreaming all of this.  Maybe he was crazy.  Maybe he had watched too much Sci-Fi.  This shit didn’t happen in *real life.* BUT it was happening…it was happening to him.  He folded his arms over the steering wheel and laid his head on them.  He let a sound between a groan and a sigh.  Turning off the car, he leaned back in the seat, not really sure what he was doing there.  Taking a deep breath, Brian opened the door and got out.  He wasn’t sure why he was there or what he expected to accomplish.  He’d been running on instinct; why stop now?
 
Walking up the steps to the house, Brian knocked.  He waited a few minutes before knocking again.  Ten minutes later, it was obvious that Justin wasn’t going to answer.  Instead of leaving or waiting any longer, Brian walked in.
 
“Justin!” he called out, walking slowly into the foyer, “Justin!  I’m not leaving, come out and talk to me.”
 
Brian turned in a circle, taking in the dusty furniture and outdated decorations.  Heading towards the stairs Justin had led him up the other night, Brian took them two at a time.  Reaching the bedroom, he walked in, prepared for the contrast between the house and the blonde’s living space.
 
He saw Justin standing by the window looking into the street, probably staring at his car. 
 
“What are you doing here?” Brian heard.  It was so faint, he couldn’t be sure that Justin had actually spoken or if he’d just imagined it.
 
“I came to see you.”
 
“That much is obvious, Brian.  I mean why?”  Justin turned, and Brian saw the brilliant blue eyes glistening with unshed tears.
 
“Why didn’t you say something?”
 
Justin laughed bitterly.  “And what should I have said Brian?  Please, tell me.  ‘Hi, sure, come in and use my phone.  By the way, I’m dead.  Glad to make your acquaintance’.”
 
The brunet rolled his lips into his mouth, not sure how to continue.  He stuck his hands into the back pocket of his jeans.
 
“If you are dead what exactly are you?”
 
Justin shrugged, “Take your pick, a spiritual aberration, a lost soul, a trapped spirit, or you can just call me a Ghost.”
 
“I thought ghosts just went through things? How did you get this room like this?”
 
Puzzled, Justin looked around.  “If I concentrate enough, I’m able to move things with my mind.  Daphne’s helped some too.”
 
“Ah yes.  Daphne Chanders, junior pre-med student at Penn State, best friend extraordinaire.”
 
“I see you’ve done your homework,” Justin commented.
 
 “How’d she come into the picture?”  Brian walked around the room as he spoke, looking at the different paintings and pictures.
 
“It was years ago, she was 12 or 13 I think.  Around Halloween actually,” Justin began, grinning, “kids have always thought of this place as a great Halloween playground.  She was dared by her friends to come and spend the night.  She was new to town.  It was some sort of initiation process or something.”
 
“She was sitting in the front room, huddled into a corner,” he paused, smiling at the memory, “sobbing and shaking horribly.  She wasn’t going to make it, you know?”
 
Justin paused, watching Brian as he moved around the room.  He was so elegantly graceful; cat-like.
 
“I wasn’t born in the Pitts.  We moved here when I was around 10.  I know how hard it is to establish yourself.  To get kids to like you.  I never really managed to fit in completely.  Not only was I the new kid, but I hated sports with a passion.  And…” he trailed off, grinning again.
 
Brian stopped his explorations and turned to look at him.  Arching an eyebrow, he asked, “and…?”
 
“Well, I was gay.”
 
Grinning tongue-in-cheek, Brian replied, “No shit.”
 
Justin laughed giddily. Brian decided Justin had one of the most beautiful laughs he’d ever heard.
 
“You should smile more often Sunshine,” he said.  He watched Justin, and chuckled to himself.  ‘Well go figure,’ he thought, ‘ghosts fucking blush.’
 
“Anyhow, I showed myself to her.  She passed out at first.  When she came to, she was terrified.  I thought she was going to hyperventilate and pass out again.  I managed to get her to calm down and spent the night talking to her.  We’ve been friends ever since.  She became the coolest person in their little group.  She had been so tiny, no one though she’d make it.  She was a God in their eyes.  Ever since then, Daphne came everyday for a little while.  Now she tries to come once or twice a week.  It’s harder with her school work and stuff.”
 
Brian nodded, and he noticed a scrap of yellowed paper in a frame on the nightstand by the table.  Looking closer, he recognized it as one of the articles he’d seen in the paper.
 
“Who did it?” he asked, whispering.  Turning to look at Justin, he noticed the pained expression on his face.
 
“I don’t know,” he mumbled, not meeting Brian’s eyes, “whenever I think about it, I just remember a big shadow where the face should be.”
 
“Is that why you’re stuck here?  Why you’re a ghost?”
 
Justin shrugged, “Maybe.  Probably.  Who knows?”
 
Brian nodded once.  “I’m going to find out who murdered you.”
 
Justin turned quickly and met Brian’s gaze.
 
“No.”
 
Confused, Brian asked, “Why the fuck not?”
 
“It’s not safe.  Daphne started asking questions a few years ago.  Bad things happened.”
 
“What type of bad things?”
 
“She had this brown Lab named Chocolate.  She loved that dog.  A week or so after she started calling around and asking questions about the investigation into my murder she started receiving threats.  Someone calling her house telling her she was putting her nose where it didn’t belong.  They didn’t know Daph very well.  That just made her ask more questions.  She can be tenacious when she wants to be.  Anyway one morning she let Chocolate out in the yard.  After she finished dressing for school she called for him and he didn’t come.  She found Chocolate dead.  There was a note attached to him that warned her if she didn’t stop nosing around into the Taylor murder her parents would be next.  Daphne tested his food and water in the high school lab.  It had been poisoned,” Justin’s voice was pained when he finished.
 
“So she stopped,” Brian concluded.
 
“No.  She was angry as hell.  She wanted to continue but I was afraid for her.  I love Daphne.  She is the first friend I’ve ever had human or ghost.  I didn’t want to lose her.  I told her if she didn’t stop the investigation that I would stop seeing her and block her from the house.  She stopped.  She was a 17-year-old kid at the time Brian.  Whoever killed me wouldn’t have thought twice about killing her...or you.  So, Don’t do it.  Don’t risk it.  It’s not worth it.  I’m not worth it.” Justin replied, adamantly.
 
“I’ll make that decision.”  Brian turned abruptly and walked out of the room.  As he descended the stairs, he heard Justin call his name, anguish and despair clear in the tone of his voice.  Pausing, he turned to look back at him, arching an eyebrow in question.
 
“Be careful. Please.”
 
Walking back up the steps, Brian paused directly in front of the shorter man.  Looking down into the clear blue eyes, he brought his hand up and ran it centimeters over where Justin’s actual cheek would have been.
 
Justin squeezed his eyes shut.  If he concentrated hard enough, it was almost like he could feel the other man’s warm touch on his face.  Caressing him gently, softly.  Opening his eyes again, he stared into the hazel ones before him.  Bringing his hand back to his side, Brian just stared into the blue eyes for a few more seconds, before murmuring, “Later.”
 
Smiling, Justin resigned himself to what was going to happen.  He nodded, “Later.”