Escapade, Chapter One
Yes, it's my birthday, f-list! And, in keeping with a tradition I began in 2007, here's your present! :)
SUMMARY: Oh, shit. I look a little harder at the picture of this guy: dark hair, tall, lean, well-muscled, brooding demeanor. Fuck, there is a resemblance, so does that mean-?
WORD COUNT: 4,935
RATING: PG-13 for language
CHARACTERS: Brian Kinney, Justin Taylor, Brendan Connelly, Daniel Colbert, Sean Connelly, Jennifer Connelly as well as six children!
TIMEFRAME: This takes place approximately three years after the end of Equilibrium, which is one of many sequels in the Mirror-verse. If you haven't read this series, you may be confused and you will definitely be spoiled!
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS: My thanks to the world’s best beta, Suzanne ( sevigny7), who provides so much in the way of friendship, expertise, advice, and encouragement that I'd be lost without her! ♥
SPECIAL THANKS I also want to thank my former beta, Maxiekat, who had an idea many years ago that’s turned into this story. It’s done a lot of growing and changing since then, Elaine, but I hope you still see the “bones” of your original story! ♥
EXRTRA SPECIAL THANKS!!! to The Supreme Court of the United States for making this even more timely by refusing to get involved in decisions made at the District Court level and thus upping the number of states that allow gay marriage to THIRTY!!!!!!! I appreciate it, justices!!!!
DISCLAIMERS: All characters and situations from Queer As Folk are the property of Russell T. Davies, CowLip Productions, Tony Jonas Productions, Showtime Networks Inc. and others. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
§ § §
Escapade
“Remember what Bilbo used to say: It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don't keep your feet, there's no knowing where you might be swept off to.”
J.R.R. Tolkien
~ 1 ~
Sweet revenge, Gus!
Walking into a fancy hotel like the Luminaire, especially a hotel in an upscale area like Big Sur, ought to be one of the highlights of my celebrated life, right? Oh, sure, especially when I have an entire fucking entourage with me. There’s only one problem with that scenario: the entourage isn’t assorted assistants, security guards, agents, and hanger-ons, no. Shit, I should be so lucky. Instead, I’ve got what looks like the entire cast of a reality show about Mormons: Gus, Cian, Aran, Lillie, Rosie, Ronan, Brendan, Daniel, Mom, Dad, and, yes, my “better half,” Justin. Well, okay, I guess the same-sex aspect might make it more like a group of rogue Mormons, but still, what is up with this shit? I’m stuck up to my eyeballs in domesticity with a fucking capital D. How in hell did this happen?
“Damn, I can’t believe how hard it’s raining,” Justin, aka, Captain Obvious, says as we approach the Luminaire’s front desk.
Even though we pulled up in front of the hotel and ran for the front doors like there were demon dogs from Hell snapping at our heels, we are all soaked. Justin, who turned thirty-one last March, looks like a bedraggled ten-year-old. I give him my best withering stare. “Don’t despair. It’s only been doing that for the last five days.”
Justin comes back on me with his patented you-know-you’re-having-a-swell-time look. “Brian, cheer up. We’ve had fun, haven’t we?”
“Sure.” As I put on my phoniest smile for the front desk clerk, I review what’s looking more and more like a terrible decision. Yes, the guy who owns this hotel, Roman Ketterling, wants to give KINCTC his considerable business. He’s got an entire chain of these fuckers, not only up and down the Californian coast, but throughout the western states as well as in Mexico, Canada, and overseas. And every single one of them is like this one: an old hotel that’s been refurbished back to its old-world charm, while modern amenities have been added such as high-def flat screens, Wi-Fi up the kazoo, indoor pools, spas galore, two ultra-modern gyms, play areas for the kids, and an assortment of restaurants. But Mr. Ketterling? He’s a tough old coot who insisted that any advertising agency that wanted his business needed to experience first-hand the magic the hotels provide and, no, that couldn’t be done by a lowly minion who’d obediently trek through the one in Anaheim, the one in L.A., and this one in central California’s Big Sur. That, of course, had to be done immediately and it had to involve not only the head honchos-Brendan, Daniel, Justin, and me-but their families too. Nor could it wait until a more appropriate time of year, now, could it? Of course not! The fact that, after a drought that’s lasted so long we’ve been shipping in our bath water via FedEx, an El Nino* has arrived mid-October, bringing with it a veritable deluge of rain to the parched California landscape, doesn’t change the plan one wit. Ketterling? He told me that he’d be glad to cross my name off his list if I couldn’t be grateful that he was offering me, my partner, my kids, my brother, his husband, their kids, not to mention Jen and Dad, an “expensive gift.”
Shit.
“This place is gorgeous,” Brendan says next to me while I check the paperwork. Yep, two suites, one with three bedrooms, the other with just two, as well as a separate suite for the grandparents. No nannies are involved, but then, the youngest child in this brood is Ronan, who’s three and will be sleeping with his dads.
“Yeah.” I sign the final form, get the key cards, and hand one to Brendan, the other to Dad. “It’s still raining like hell out there.”
Brendan, who’s sporting a full-on beard these days and looks like a neater version of my alter ego, Max Walker, gives me his normal cheerful smile. God, we’re different. “It’s still been fun, Brian. The kids are having a blast.”
I slide my eyes to the right, then quickly back. “Most of the kids,” I say in a soft tone.
Brendan looks to where Gus is sulking with his cousin, Lillie. “He’ll get over it.”
“You’ve been saying that since the day this journey began.” I’ve got a fourteen-year-old son and I’m still in shock about that. Tick, tick, tick, indeed. Three more years and he’ll be the same age Justin was when we met. The idea makes me itch all over. “He had his heart set on attending that soccer camp while Mel and Linds were in France.”
Brendan raises an eyebrow. “Hmm, I think it was more that he’d get to do something on his own.”
I’ve got three kids and one of them is a teenager. Yeah, that’s high season for sullen I’ll-do-the-exact-opposite-of-what-you-want behavior and Gus? He doesn’t disappoint. “You mean, spend a week on his own romping around in Southern California?”
“With his old man up here, far from San Diego.”
“Yeah, that didn’t happen.” Believe it or not, my initial reasoning was kind of sentimental: Gus is getting older, so how many of these trips are left before he skips merrily out of our lives? Justin agreed, but Gus? Not happy at all and, like my dear brother says, he’s been doing his surly adolescent bit since this trip started. So much fun!
Right then, Justin slips an arm around my waist. “Let’s go see the rooms. I bet they’re terrific.”
As per usual, Justin has a Brian-angst detector that tells him when I’m doing my own broody impersonation of a middle-aged man who used to dance the night away, but now sees himself caught up in family life everywhere he turns. “Good idea.” I give him the smile he almost always gets. “Mom and Dad are probably tired.”
“Oh, hey, look at this!” Gus says just then, the first time I’ve heard any excitement in his voice. He’s pointing at a large sign that’s propped up on a tripod to the left of the front desk. “They’re having a huge supernatural convention: Spooktacular Fun, 2014! It starts tomorrow!” Gus tells everyone, the chortle clear in his tone. “Look at all the people who’ll be here. Isn’t that great?”
I glare at him.
He grins at me.
Terrific. Just what I need: zombies, werewolves, vampires, and witches.
§ § §
It took about an hour before Gus was able to get away from the grownups. Thank fucking God. With Lillie in tow, he went back down into the hotel’s lobby, because he wanted to see what else he could find out about this con. Lots of TV and movie folks were going to attend and good stuff, too, not that stupid sparkly-vampires shit. It’d be so cool. Even if he couldn’t find a way to get into the actual event, he was bound to see lots of people cosplaying all over the place, there’d be tons of merch, and the whole thing would be fun, especially if he could get Lillie interested. She tended to be pretty conventional and she thought vampires were “icky.” Don’t even ask her what she thought about zombies. Okay, she wouldn’t be thirteen until January, so maybe she was just having her last moments as an innocent child. Ugh.
“You should be nicer to your dad,” she said right then as they stepped off the elevator, proving his point.
“Why?” Gus walked right up to the big room where they’d hold the convention and pushed on the door, surprised when it opened. They went inside. “My dad is being a dick.”
“Your dad wants you to be part of the family. Come on, Gus, remember all that time he was gone? You were so upset then, you wanted him around and he wasn’t.”
He loved Lillie and all, but she could be a real pain in the ass. As they walked toward the stage, he gave her his best Kinney frown. “That was a long time ago and I was a stupid kid. Besides, how about taking my side? He promised me I could go to the soccer camp in San Diego.”
“You just wanted to hang around with Christopher and Marlowe, because you think they’re cool. Those kids are bad news and you know it. They’re always smoking weed, drinking, feeling up girls. You shouldn’t hang with kids like that.”
“My dad used to do all of that and worse … except for the girl part. What’s the difference?”
Lillie opened her mouth to answer him, but right then, two girls popped up out of chairs in the front row. “Hi!”
Gus stopped. “Hey. Who are you?”
“I’m Phoebe,” the redhead said and indicated her petite, blonde friend. “This is Joëlle.”
“Hi,” Lillie said, all smiling and cheerful, “I’m Lillie and this is-”
“Oh, we know who he is,” Phoebe cut in, her voice rising like she’d turned into a cartoon character. With her huge black-framed glasses and prominent freckles, that’s what she looked like to Gus: a Warner Brothers cartoon. “You’re Bryan Burke’s son!” She glanced at her friend, a smirk in place. “He looks totally like him, right?”
The other girl, smaller, fairer, less cartoon-like, nodded. “Totally.” She smiled, showing off her braces.
Gus and Lillie exchanged a look. Lillie shrugged. Typical. The kid always had her face buried in a book and rarely knew anything about anything that didn’t involve J.K. Rowling or Jane Austen. Gus, though, was another story altogether. “How come you’re saying that?” he asked in his most I-don’t-give-a-shit voice.
“Because we saw him come in!” Joëlle had a deeper voice, but also seemed way too excited. “We read all the online sites-Twitter, Tumblr, Instagram-so we know he’s gay and everyone says he’s gone off to marry his lover, a good-looking blond guy named Terry.”
“Oh, that’s not-”
“Hang on.” Gus put a hand on Lillie’s arm. “Uh, I thought that was a huge secret,” he said to the two girls, his brain whirling. This could be fun. Lots of fun.
“Not from us! Everyone says he’s gone to the Maldives, but as soon as we saw him come in with all his people, we knew something was up.” Phoebe crossed her arms, nodding in a way she thought made her look smart. “We knew.”
“And we know why he picked this place to get married,” Joëlle added, nodding like a little bird pecking at seed. “It’s because Domingo Vallien shot Blood Vista here, back in … “ Joëlle paused, gaze softening as she seemed to drift off, “… a long, long time ago, right? Even before my grandma was born. Bryan will be doing the updated version of Blood Vista, so what better place to get married and get into the whole vampire thing than here?”
Both girls looked beyond excited. Smiling, Gus gave Lillie one warning look, then threw his hands in the air. “You’ve got me. Fuck, he tried so hard to keep it a secret, but, oh, well!”
“Gus …” Lillie, the good girl, now had his arm in a death grip, “you can’t-”
“Lils, I’m sure, uh, Joëlle and Phoebe will be discreet about this information,” he told his cousin in a fake concerned tone. “They wouldn’t want to ruin my dad’s wedding.”
“Oh, of course not,” Phoebe said, her tone matching his in fakeness. “Getting married is a great thing and me and Joëlle? We totally support gay marriage, right? We do, right?”
Joëlle nodded.
“We just wanted to know, that’s all. We won’t tell a soul.” She zipped her lip, then raised her hand. “Scouts’ honor.”
“Okay, great,” Gus said with a big smile, totally not believing her. With any luck, they’d have it up on all pertinent Internet sites within the next ten minutes. “My dad wouldn’t be happy if this got out. This is kind of, you know, a sentimental thing he’s doing. He even brought his parents.”
Phoebe’s eyes widened. “I saw that. So sweet. No, we only wanted to know if our guess was right. He’s not part of the con, is he?”
“No, he’s, uh, checking things out, seeing how others feel about Blood Vista being rebooted, that kind of thing. But quietly, you know?”
Joëlle wrinkled her nose. “It’s so old, most people don’t even know it.”
“And Domingo Vallien is dead,” Phoebe added, not looking the least bit sad. “That was back when they didn’t have TV or computers, or anything fun. All they could do was talk to each other, or go see a movie … but only at an old-timey movie theatre.” She gave them her most mournful look. “I don’t even think they had popcorn,” she whispered in horror.
“Well, it’s up to the studio if Blood Vista gets rebooted. I’m here because Dad is marrying his longtime boyfriend.” Gus tried to look happy about this amazing event. “Don’t tell anyone okay? It’d be a mob scene and everything would be ruined.”
“We promise.” Phoebe crossed her heart this time. “Uh, we better get back. We’re on vacation with my aunt and she’s kind of old, so we have to keep checking up on her.”
Because otherwise the old bat would keel over? “Okay, well, I guess we’ll see you later.”
“Definitely.”
Gus watched as both girls skittered off, doing their best not to run down the aisle toward the exit. “Think they’ll wait until they find their aunt before they start texting and tweeting?”
“Gus, that’s a horrible thing to do to your dad,” Miss Lillie-Two-Shoes said. “You know he’s already in a bad mood. My dad told me we have to try and cheer him up.”
Gus gave her a frosty smile. “Well, he might be in an even worse mood come tomorrow.” Then with a grin that he hoped was wicked, he turned and went down the aisle. “Come on, Lils.”
§ § §
I’m helping the twins unpack when Gus and Lillie return. “So, did you find out anything?” I ask as I hand a stack of folded shirts to Cian.
“Find out?” Gus replies in a vague tone, as if he thinks he’s fooling someone.
“About the con. That’s what you wanted, right?”
Gus gives me a wry smile. “Uncle Justin, you’re too smart.”
I chuckle. “I may be old, Gus, but I haven’t forgotten how a teenager’s mind works.”
“We’d just like to see some of the stars coming to this con,” he says, including Lillie in the thing, even though it seems obvious that she doesn’t care. With a calculated nonchalance, Gus shrugs. “Whatever.”
Wow, he wants this, bad. It’s probably one-hundred-percent because his dad is so pissed about it. “That’s great,” I say to Aran when he informs me the clothes are all in their appointed drawers.
“Can you ask Daddy for McDonald’s, Daddy Justin?” he asks. “That’s what me and Cian want.”
I still have trouble believing my cute little baby sons are now eight years old. Damn, they’ve grown. At least, they’re still children, unlike their sometimes-petulant brother. “I don’t think there’s a McDonald’s anywhere around here, Aran. We’re kind of in a place that’s like when we went camping, except this time we have a jazzy hotel instead of a tent and camp stove.”
Aran looks disappointed. “So what will we eat?”
“You know, I seem to remember that there’s a restaurant here in the hotel that’s got kids’ food: hamburgers, French fries, milkshakes, all that good stuff. Maybe we can eat dinner there.”
“Milkshakes?” Cian asks with genuine enthusiasm as he comes up to stand by his brother. “Do you think they have chocolate?”
“I’m sure they do. Let me talk to your dad and see what he wants to do. Lillie? Do you know your parents’ plans?”
Lillie gives me a typical look, one that says she’s way ahead of me. “I think they were talking about room service. Everyone’s tired.”
“Oh, okay.” I know that “everyone” means Rosie and Ronan, the two little kids in our group. Shit, I’m glad we’re out of that stage, although they’re so cute when they’re little. “Uh, you guys hang out here, okay? Gus, no trips outside with your brothers, please, let’s just all stay put. It’s too early for dinner. See what’s in the mini bar, or eat snacks out of your snack pack, and watch TV-” I point at all three boys, “-but no porn!” They got an eyeful at an earlier hotel, thanks to Gus, and I’d like to avoid another sex education lesson if possible. Cian, for one, was scandalized.
Back in the suite’s huge living room area, I find Brian standing at the window watching the rain. Going up to him, I put my arms around his waist and give him a backwards hug. “Hey.”
He turns around and smiles, arms around me in a gesture that’s as old as the relationship. I reach for his face and, up on my toes, kiss him on the mouth several times as my thumbs massage his cheekbones. “Too bad we don’t have a barn handy,” I murmur, meaning the one on our property we’ve been using forever as our blowjob facilitator.
“I spotted a utility closet down the hall,” he murmurs between kisses as we go through a ritual that never gets tiresome. He kisses my nose. “So did you get the boys settled?”
“Yeah. They’re disappointed there’s no McDonald’s nearby, but I told them there’s a burger joint on the premises, so maybe we can eat there.”
“We can do that.” Brian walks with me to one of the couches and we sit down. “And Gus?” he asks as he puts an arm around me again. “Still stewing?”
“Yes, but I have an idea about that. You know the convention he spotted, the ones with vampires, witches, and the like?”
“Spooktacular Fun? Yeah.”
“How about we see if we can get him some passes to the thing?”
Brian purses his lips. “Yeah, they always have some lying around. Too bad we’re here under deep cover, because otherwise, I’m sure we could ask Ketterling for help.”
“You forget he’s on that super-secret spiritual retreat somewhere out of the country.” Once we agreed to take this tour of his hotels, part of Roman Ketterling’s instructions were that we do it as ordinary vacationers, not as ad-agency wannabes out to conquer a new account. So we had to book the whole thing, pay for it ourselves-but not on KINCTC’s dime-and promise not to say who we were. No special treatment, right? Which sucks. “Uh, let’s check with the concierge. Maybe she could help.”
“For you, she might help. You’ve still got that boyish charm.”
“Brian, I’m thirty-one. I think boyhood has finally fled, but I’ll call her in a few minutes.” Turning, I kick off my shoes, then prop my feet on Brian’s lap, lying against the couch’s arm. “So why’re you in such a mood?” I ask him, knowing he can’t avoid the question. Ever since all the fugue episodes, now, thankfully, several years in the past, he’s been forced by me, Brendan, and, especially, Dr. Parrack, to be more upfront about his feelings. Part of keeping him “psychologically fit.” Which, of course, he hates.
He grabs my feet, massaging for a moment, then shrugs. “I don’t know. Bored, I guess.”
“Brian, we’ve got KINCTC chugging along in four cities now. Shit, it’s embarrassing how successful New York, Chicago, and L.A. have been, not to mention Pittsburgh. Now we’re opening a Dallas branch. I don’t see anything boring about that.”
“It’s boring because I’m not there, doing the work. I’m an observer these days.”
“You’re overseeing all of it. Besides, you’d pop a cork if you got hands-on with even one of those startups and-”
“-walk off and become the manager of a Piggly Wiggly somewhere in Georgia. I know.”
“That’d be pretty tough, since you’re a vegetarian,” I shoot back, picturing the Piggly Wiggly sign, pig and all. “Your last alter-ego would be horrified.”
“In a fugue state I wouldn’t know the difference. Look, I get that, but it’s … sometimes, it’s depressing. I miss the old life.”
Brian goes through this every so often. He longs for the “glory days” when he was a young stud making his way to the top of the heap, forgetting about all the bad parts of that journey. Like me getting gay bashed, for instance, which he didn’t like at all, or the enemies he had in Professor Carroll and former Chief of Police/Mayor Stockwell, not to mention all that nastiness with Senator Harwell and the fucking Cressmans. Oh, yeah, it was so much fun. “You’ve got a thriving furniture business here in California, three kids to raise, a partner who’s doing pretty well on the art front, and lots of friends and family both in Ojai and back in Pittsburgh. Your life-and mine-are pretty damn full.”
“But nothing that’s particularly challenging or different.”
“In other words, it’s all hum-drum and domestic.”
He bites his lower lip. “Even this discussion fits the bill.”
“Because we have it over and over again?”
“Guilty as charged.”
Ever since the Supreme Court made it possible for gays to marry here in California, Brian has felt under pressure to do just that, although that pressure isn’t coming from me. Then, the Supreme Court, just last week, extended the number of states that allow gay marriage to thirty! Wow, but, yes, even more pressure to do what Brendan and Daniel already did. Sure, there are good reasons to do it, reasons that have little to do with how much we love each other, but, rather, that it would protect everything we’ve worked for as well as protect our kids. However, I’m not going to be the guy that strong-arms him into that, no way, no how. Hell, we even have a marriage license, which Brian felt compelled to get, because he wanted to prove a point to all the homophobes who originally put Prop 8 in place. That license will expire soon, so maybe that’s in the back of his mind? Not sure. So, rather than argue, I pivot to the happiest married couple we know: Mom and Dad. “Let’s check with my mom and see if they’re up for hamburgers tonight,” I say with a little smile. “There’s other restaurants with a more romantic vibe if they’re so inclined.”
He gets what I’m saying. “Let’s do that.”
Nodding, I jump up to walk down the hall, happy that I managed to avoid a major meltdown or heavy discussion, which neither of us need. After all, we’re on vacation.
§ § §
Mom and Dad wanted to go the more romantic route and told Justin they’d order room service. I suspect they’d like a little peace and quiet. A couple of hours later, around six, as we head down to the burger restaurant, Justin, me, and the three boys, I have to admire how well the older Connelly couple have put up with all the long drives in a SUV that includes three rather rowdy boys. The twins can be a bit much, even for me, so I can only imagine how their grandparents’ eardrums have been assaulted. Makes sense that they’d want a little downtime. Fortunately, all the grandparents, including Craig, appear to adore these kids. Me? Of course I feel the same and Justin does too. To him, their behavior is just a natural part of childhood, to be endured and controlled when it threatens to get out of hand. To me, it flashes back to my own childhood, where the wrong move at the wrong moment could bring on an abusive response in a sickening heartbeat.
Yeah, I’m full of laughs.
“Good evening Mr. Bur-er, Mr. Kinney,” the maître d' says right then, a bit flustered. Wait. Maître d'? A guy wearing an expensive dark suit, crisp white shirt, a guy with an eighty-dollar haircut? In a burger joint? Blinking, I look around and remember that this hotel is high-end, expensive, and meant for a particular clientele. That’s one reason Ketterling wanted me visiting several of them, and, yes, one of his specific requests was that we eat in all the restaurants. Then my brain plays back this man’s words. “What did you call me?”
The guy’s face is stoic. “Sorry, sir. Slip of the tongue. How many in your party?”
With a mental shrug, I look back as if to count my “party.” Yeah, stupid. I think by now I know how many people are in my family. However, when I do, I notice that Gus is still outside the restaurant. Through the glass door I see him talking to a couple of girls, but, no, not those type of girls, ones he, at fourteen, might be interested in. These are kids, both of them, maybe Lillie’s age, but certainly without any body parts that’d arouse the interest of my teenage son, who, I think, is straight. That, though, is another story. “Justin,” I say, pointing to the eldest boy, who’s … yes, he’s smiling. My sulky teenager is smiling! What the hell?
Justin turns, going back through the door to round up the errant teen. Meanwhile, the obsequious maître d' leads us to the best table in the place, a curved banquette done in dark wood and a burgundy fabric I don’t hate. As I slide into the space, I’m calculating his choice of seats for us. He didn’t put us in the middle of the room, but in a more private area, although one that still gives us a great view and isn’t anywhere near the kitchen. It’s a good choice, one you’d make for a person you didn’t want to offend, but didn’t want to show off either. I’m not a celebrity, of course, but does this guy somehow know who I am? He called me by name, which, now that I think of it, is a little odd. That’d put him ahead of the other folks in the earlier hotels. “Thanks,” I murmur as Cian slides in next to me, then Aran.
Justin arrives, Gus in tow. Thank God my son hasn’t decided to stage some kind of protest. Shit, he even has a slight smile on his face.
“I think they might be on to us,” I say to Justin as he takes his seat next to me.
Justin raises an eyebrow. “You mean, someone tipped them off to the fact that were here thanks to Ketterling?”
“Yes.”
“Terrific.”
“It won’t be if it gets back to Ketterling.”
Justin grabs the menu, but then looks over at me. “Because he’ll think we did it?”
“Exactly.”
§ § §
Ignoring Dad’s conversation with Uncle Justin, Gus grabbed a menu, hunkering down, and tried not to smile, but it was hard. Phoebe apologized to him! She’d posted info about “your dad, the famous movie star” on social media, thinking it’d been private, but, of course, it hadn’t been! And she knew it, he was sure of that. So it got lots of attention, which is what she wanted, and she told him that people were on their way to the hotel to get pictures of the famous Bryan Burke. Too funny! They’d even asked her to take photos with her cell phone, sneaky selfies, but she wouldn’t answer them, because she was so principled. Right!
Once the waiter came, Gus ordered a burger, fries, onion rings, and a Coke, in the best mood ever. Tomorrow those news people would be here. Oh, and Phoebe said that people from local newspapers were already in the hotel. Dad wouldn’t like this at all. Sure, it probably wouldn’t take that long for them to realize that he wasn’t the real Bryan Burke, because, duh, the Internet, but at least he’d be harassed for a while. Sweet revenge, Gus! You are so smart!
“These are from the concierge, Mr. Kinney.”
Gus looked up to see that the same guy who’d seated them was standing there with a brown envelope in his hand. “Thank you,” Dad said to the man and then opened the envelope, looking inside. “Yep,” he said to Uncle Justin as he showed him the contents. “Proves my point. We’ve been made. This was way too easy. Why’d she hand them over so fast?” He passed the envelope to Gus.
Fucking hell, what was this? Gus peeked into the envelope. “Oh, shit!” he said when he saw the con passes complete with lanyards.
“Gus,” Uncle Justin said, tilting his head to one side at the language.
“Sorry.” Gus pulled out the passes. Yes, they were for the con and, yes, they were full access to everything! “How did you …?”
“Justin spoke to the hotel’s concierge, and she was able to get them somehow. Not sure how we rated, but … we got them!” Dad had a slight smile in place. “Maybe Lillie would like to go, or your brothers. There’s enough for six people, so we can include an adult or so in the mix.”
“Thanks,” Gus said in a voice that sounded weak even to his ears. “Uh, thanks Dad.”
“You’re welcome,” Dad said, his smile a lot bigger. “What with all the rain, it’ll give you something fun to do.”
“Yeah …” Gus said, staring down at the tangle of passes, stabbed in the heart with an onrush of guilt.
Oh, shit.
What the fuck had he done?
TBC
Yes, this is a short series, probably about five chapters, so let’s enjoy our return to the Mirror-verse … and, in this case, a relatively angst-free Mirror-verse! :) ♥
*At this point, in the real 2014, the El Nino appears to be a bust and will, at best, be weak. :(