There's a man working at the punching bag, every hit sounding a loud bang. He's working fast; he doesn't stop, doesn't let up, doesn't seem to want to do anything but act (doesn't seem to want to stop to think).

Mahone almost hadn't believed his son was dead.

He almost hadn't believed his son was dead until he'd begged and begged and Lang had finally ( Read more... )

"Sonny boy," Brian murmured as he took Gus from Lindsey, only half listening as she reminded him of their son's proper feeding times. How hard was it to take care of a three month old? "Mummy worries too much." He pressed his nose against Gus' cheek. "Say bye bye, mummy." He gently pushed Lindsey out of his loft and rolled the front door shut, much ( Read more... )

It had been a while. A long while. But it had been on his mind to return, so finally he did.

Brian slouched against Bar, caressing her with his index finger as he ordered something appropriately manly, yet sweet. He perked a brow and observed the other patrons, picking out blonds in particular.

The cocktail party upstairs is in full swing.

"Well, this is new," Brian said to himself as he peered around the bar with one brow perked in amusement. It could've been one hell of an acid trip, or perhaps he'd finally found the result of where the bliss of one too many orgasms landed you.

The one thing he did know was how to behave at a bar. He squinted at the windows, which appeared to be ( Read more... )