"I'm telling you, Johnny, you have to go with me or I'm going to commit Hari-Kari!" Bruce exclaimed.

Stifling his grin, Johnny pointed out, "I thought only women could commit hari-kari?"

"C'mon, man, you know what I mean!" Bruce groaned.

Feeling particularly evil, Johnny decided to drag things out even more. Pointing to the brace on his leg, he said innocently, "You told me to stay off the leg."

Bruce looked at him a moment, then his head dropped and he muttered under his breath.

"What was that?" Johnny asked, trying not to smile.

"I said, I've got 'sucker' written right across my forehead," Bruce answered loudly, making a face. "You were going to go when I asked you the first time, weren't you?"

Laughing now, Johnny nodded.

"Figures. Look man, I do not appreciate the aggravation right now."

Relenting, Johnny apologized, "I'm sorry, Bruce, I've just never seen you this worked up about something."

"Well, my mom's never come to Maine before, has she?" Bruce snapped.

Seeing how stressed his friend was, Johnny awkwardly got up and moved towards Bruce with, "I'm sorry, Bruce. I would love to escort your mother to dinner while you show off, um, Cassandra is it?"

Bruce's glare lasted all of ten seconds before a rueful grin surfaced. "Yeah, it's Cassandra. She's a professional black woman with a degree who makes more money than I do. Mom's going to love her."

"What about you?" Johnny cursed the words as soon as they left his mouth.

Startled, Bruce didn't answer for a few seconds, then shrugged. "She's really nice. We can hang out and talk about pretty much anything. The chemistry's there, too."

"But...?"

"No buts, John. I like her," Bruce admitted.

Johnny blinked in surprise at the shy tone. It wasn't something that he'd expected, not given the number of women that Bruce dated. It took a few more seconds to get his voice back, but finally he said, "That's great, Bruce, I'm happy for you."

Arching an eyebrow at him, Bruce replied, "So happy that it took you almost a minute to figure out what to say?"

With a wince, Johnny said, "I'm sorry. It's just...you date a lot, Bruce. I didn't think you were serious about her."

"Well, I think I am."

"Then I'm happy for you. Honest."

A relieved smile broke out on Bruce's face and he gripped Johnny's shoulder, saying, "Thanks, man, that means a lot."

* * * *

Johnny waved to Bruce from the front door, waited until he was in the Cruiser, then shut the door and leaned heavily on it.

His head was throbbing to the same rhythm his leg had picked out, but it didn't have to do with any physical malady. It had to do with Bruce settling down with a nice, professional woman that his mother would approve of, getting married and having kids. It had to do with lying to his best friend's face about something really serious. It wasn't like he could say, "I hate her, stay with me instead," after all.

Sighing, Johnny headed slowly for the first floor guest room where he was temporarily located. That spill he'd taken the other day had caused a lot of damage and Bruce was still ticked about it. But hey, it wasn't like he'd done it on purpose. Not like he was subconsciously hurting himself to make sure Bruce stuck around.

Oh shit. Was that what he was doing?

"Great. Not only are you turning into Boo Radley, but a lying hypochondriac, too."

The phone ringing scared the crap out of him, and after he got his breathing under control, he aimed for it. "Hello?"

"Johnny?"

Johnny frowned at the weird tone in Sarah's voice. "Sarah? Everything all right?"

"Yeah, everything's fine."

Johnny waited, but when she didn't elaborate, he asked, "Something I can do for you?"

She sighed and answered, "Sorry, just having a rough day."

"Did you and Walt fight?" he questioned, concerned.

"Yeah, and it was a doozy."

"You want to talk about it?"

"No, not really. I just...just needed to hear a friendly voice, you know?"

"Yeah, yeah I do," he agreed.

There was a brief hesitation, then she asked, "Are you all right? You sound different."

"Different? Me? Nah. I'm fine. My leg hurts a little, but other than that, everything's good."

"Okay. Well, I'll let you go, then."

"Sure. Look, if you need to talk..."

"I'll call."

"Good. Good night."

"Night, Johnny."

He listened to the dial-tone for a few seconds then hung up with a sigh. Oh yeah. It was just a peachy night all around, no doubt about that. Shaking his head, Johnny headed for the guest room.

* * * *

Bruce frowned at the tired circles under Johnny's eyes and finally decided to brave the man of single-syllables. "You not sleeping lately?"

Frowning at him, Johnny answered, "I'm sleeping fine."

Oh yeah. Definitely a touchy subject. "Nightmares keeping you awake again?"

The frown upgraded to a minor glare. "No."

Leaning against the pillar, Bruce studied his friend for a few more moments before giving up the ghost. John was a kind of master of the non-answers when it came to something he didn't want to talk about. Whether that was how he was raised, which in New England had to at least be partly responsible, or because he thought it was something too private, Bruce didn't know. He'd thought that mid westerners were stoic when it came to talking about how they felt, but New Englanders had them beat hands down. All that taciturn seamanship, even in the burbs.

Snorting to himself, Bruce looked back at the gate and finally saw that it was unloading. Practically bouncing in anticipation and nervousness, he pushed the matter aside to think about later, and looked for his mom. He recognized the hat first and grinned broadly, nudging Johnny with, "There she is!"

Without another thought, he rushed forward and met her at the ropes, pulling her into his arms for a long hug.

When they broke apart, she beamed up at him and demanded, "Have you been eating? I swear you've lost weight."

"I have not lost weight in the two months that I haven't seen you," he teased, putting his arm around her waist. Johnny arrived just then, and Bruce introduced, "Mom, you remember my friend John Smith, right?"

Rose smiled, though the expression was a little strained as she held out her hand and replied, "Of course, Mr. Smith. How nice to see you again."

Johnny took the hand with his own smile. "You as well, Mrs. Lewis. I hope your flight was all right?"

She nodded, turning slightly towards Bruce as she answered, "The flight was fine, but I am starving. Where did you say you were taking me?"

Bruce frowned a little at the odd dismissal of Johnny, and tried to smooth things over. "There's a great seafood restaurant right in town that Johnny and I are going to treat you too. Cassandra is going to meet us at the restaurant. She wanted to be here, but there was a problem at work that she had to take care of."

"Cassandra?" Rose questioned lightly.

Smiling, Bruce answered, "I wanted to surprise you. Cassandra Michaels. We've been dating for a couple of months and it might be getting serious. I think it is, anyhow."

The smile was no longer the least bit forced as she said, "That's wonderful, Bruce! I'm so pleased and can't wait to meet her!"

"I knew it. See, John? She's already picking out the grandkids' names," Bruce exclaimed, grinning fondly.

Johnny returned the smile and commented, "As well she should. Cassandra's wonderful, Mrs. Lewis, I'm sure you'll just love her."

Rose looked at him for a second, then her smile broadened and she replied, "I'm sure I will. Now then, why don't we collect the luggage?"

It didn't take long to get the bags, and Johnny was moving at a decent clip, so it only took another hour or so to escape Manchester Airport. It wasn't, thank God, as bad as Logan; then again, nothing was. Bruce guided the Cruiser towards the restaurant, listening as Johnny and his mother made small talk. He brushed off the earlier sense that his mother had a problem with Johnny as jet-lag.

Why wouldn't she like him? Everyone liked Johnny.

* * * *

The restaurant was small enough to be cozy, but big enough for a dance floor. After Bruce spun his mother around a few times, he and Cassandra started dancing. Johnny watched them wistfully for a few moments, then turned his attention back to the sharp, spry woman who'd been making him dance on tenterhooks all night.

It was like the second she'd seen him after disembarking from the plane, Rose had known exactly how he felt about Bruce. It was more than a little unnerving to be under such close scrutiny.

"So Mr. Smith. I understand from Bruce that you took a nasty spill recently?" Rose asked.

Johnny shrugged. "Not so bad as all that."

"You're limping more than you did at the funeral."

"I've been worse."

"Would that be before or after you fell in love with my son?"

Johnny choked on his coffee in shock and coughed heavily. When he regained his breath, it was to find Rose staring at him intently, those dark eyes not giving up a whit. Clearing his throat, Johnny said softly, earnestly, "Mrs. Lewis, I can assure you that I..."

"Should find a way to leave him alone," Rose interrupted firmly. "Mr. Smith, I'm going to be blunt because I like you and think you deserve honesty. Bruce is a nice boy and sees the best in everyone, especially those that he cares about. And while I believe that you wouldn't knowingly harm my son, simply being around you is dangerous. I've read about some of the things that you've gone through and it frightens me that Bruce is around you at all, never mind so...closely involved."

All things that Johnny had already gone through in his own mind a hundred times, wondering just how selfish he could be to keep Bruce in his life as he did. But how could he give the other man up? He grounded Johnny in ways that no one else did, kept him from getting too crazy or obsessed.

"Mr. Smith, Johnny, I know that it's a difficult thing to be in love with someone who can never love you back. For both your sakes, you should break off this friendship before either of you is seriously hurt," Rose finished almost gently.

Shaking his head, Johnny countered, "It's not that easy."

"Yes it is."

"Bruce is his own man, I can't force him to do anything."

"Yes you could. He's always been a sensitive boy and I'm sure that you could find a way to drive him off. If you wanted to."

Before either of them could say anything else, Bruce and Cassandra returned, sitting in a cloud of sweetness that caused Johnny's teeth to ache. They were honestly happy and Johnny could see it all, even without a vision. The life they would have together; the kids, the house, the fights and the joys. Bruce was a forever kind of man and Johnny was pretty sure that Cassandra was just as serious-minded, even though they'd only met a few times.

Getting abruptly to his feet, Johnny said, "I have to go."

Surprised, Bruce asked, "What? Why? We're having fun, here!"

"I'm sorry, Bruce, but my leg is killing me," Johnny lied.

"Oh. Well, sure. Let's just get everything together and..."

"No," Johnny interrupted. Bruce was obviously taken aback by his sharp tone and Johnny forced a smile. "Sorry. Look, there's no reason for you to spoil the night, it's still young. I'll take a cab home."

Frowning, Bruce insisted, "It's not any trouble, John."

Johnny saw the irritated expression on Cassandra's face, even as quickly hidden as it was. He also knew that Bruce's mother was waiting for him to get out of the way, to let Bruce live his own life. Add to that his own despair and guilt over everything, well, it was a pretty powerful combination and his shook his head. "It's fine, Bruce, really. Stay, enjoy, and take your mom out for another spin on my account, okay?"

Still concerned, Bruce nodded and agreed, "Sure thing, man."

He deftly avoided Bruce's hand, which had reached for its customary arm grip in leave-taking, and nodded to the women politely. "Good night."

"Good night, Mr. Smith. You take care, all right?" Rose said, a hint of gratefulness in her tone.

Johnny's lips quirked, but he didn't reply as he turned and left the restaurant. He could practically feel Bruce staring after him with worry, but forced himself not to turn around. This was for the best.

Even if it killed him in the process.

* * * *

Something about the entire night out bugged Bruce and he couldn't stop thinking about it. The drive back to his apartment was quiet and his mother dozed in the front seat on the way back. From moment one when his mother had stepped off the plane, Bruce knew that Johnny had been off balance, though he still didn't know why.

He glanced at the older woman and wondered what exactly had happened between them at the dinner table. It had sure looked intense. First Johnny almost spewing coffee, and then the subsequently shell-shocked expression. He knew his mother could be hell on wheels when she got a notion into her head, but couldn't for the life of him fathom what might've gone down. He hadn't like the look on his friend's face, though, and had cut the dance short.

Biting his lip, Bruce returned his attention to the road. He would stop by Johnny's house the next day and straighten everything out.

* * * *

Bruce felt like he'd been hit with a bomb as he stared into space. His security code still worked, so he'd just walked into Johnny's house calling out for his friend. The house had echoed his voice back to him in a way that only a truly empty house could. After a rapid search turned up empty drawers and closet, panic set in and he'd scrambled for his cell phone.

Johnny's cell was disconnected, no forwarding number.

He couldn't get through to Reverend Purdy.

Sarah claimed no knowledge of where Johnny was.

Basically, the other man had disappeared into thin air. And despite his recent police observations, Bruce was no cop. He had no idea how to go about looking for Johnny.

"Son? Everything all right?"

Jolting back to awareness, Bruce shook his head and glanced at his mother. "No, everything's not all right, not by a long stretch. Johnny's gone."

Rose frowned. "Gone?"

"Yeah, gone. Vanished. Disappeared," Bruce snapped, getting to his feet and striding passed her into the kitchen. "There was no message for me, nothing letting me know where he went or even if he's all right. Sarah hasn't got a clue where he is and Purdy isn't talking. And that tells me that Johnny told the old buzzard that he didn't want to be found."

Hesitant, Rose suggested, "Maybe he just needed a break. You keep telling me how serious he takes things."

Rubbing his eyes, Bruce nodded slowly. "I guess that could be it. But it's not like Johnny to just take off without telling me. I mean, I'm his best friend for fu- ah, for cryin' out loud."

"I'm sure he's fine," Rose soothed, rubbing his back. "If something was wrong, would he really leave without telling you?"

Bruce snorted and answered, "Yeah, he would. If he thought I was going to get hurt, then absolutely."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that Johnny has this thing about me being hurt. Any time he thinks that something bad might happen to me, he tries to get me out of the line of fire," Bruce answered. Rubbing his eyes, he continued, "Johnny's so damned protective of me and I don't know why. It's not like I couldn't kick his as- ah, butt around the block if I wanted to, but he just has this idea that I need to, oh hell, I don't know... You're right. I'm sure he's fine."

She smiled at him reassuringly and agreed, "He is. I'm sure he just...took a vacation or something."

"What did you two talk about last night, anyhow?" Bruce asked abruptly.

Moving to the sink, she started putting the dishes in the dishwasher. "Just this and that. Why?"

Bruce frowned, not liking her tone of voice. His mother wouldn't outright lie, but she'd fudge the truth as much as she could when it suited her purposes. You didn't get to be a preacher's wife for forty-odd years without knowing exactly how far you could stretch the truth. He reached across her and turned off the faucet. "What did you say to him?"

Facing him, Rose crossed her arms over her chest and looked up at him. "I said that I thought it was too dangerous, you being around him so much."

"Is that it?"

"For the most part."

"Mom. Spill it."

Sighing, Rose took his hand and exclaimed, "I'm just worried about you, baby."

Bruce groaned. This couldn't be good. Withdrawing his hand, he demanded, "What else did you say?"

"That I thought he should let you alone so that you'd be safe," she explained. "It's not right, how he always calls on you, how he expects you to just drop everything for him!"

Praying for patience, Bruce said, "Mom, Johnny doesn't expect anything. I'm his friend. I'm there for him because I want to be, not because he's forcing me."

"He's not good for you," she insisted stubbornly.

This wasn't like his mother and Bruce couldn't figure out what, exactly, the problem was. Not yet anyhow. She wasn't the only one who could be stubborn about important things. "I want to know exactly what you said to him and how he responded. Now, Mom."

"I will not! And don't you take that tone with me, young man!"

Bruce followed her out of the kitchen, anger rising as he realized that somehow, his mother had driven Johnny off. She continued to the second bedroom where she was staying and he just walked in behind her.

"Bruce! I am going to get ready for bed," she snapped.

Shaking his head, Bruce stated, "You're going to tell me what happened so I know how much damage control I need to do."

She gave him an incredulous look. "Damage control? Son, you should be thanking me."

"For what?" he exclaimed. "Driving away my best friend?"

"For saving you from a sinful man!"

Bruce's jaw actually dropped at the exclamation. From the set to his mother's jaw, he could see that she actually believed what she'd just said. "So, what, his visions make Johnny a sinner?"

Drawing herself up, Rose replied, "No. The fact that he practices perversion does."

Feeling like he'd somehow walked into the Twilight Zone, Bruce shook his head, trying to clear it. "You know, I honestly don't have a clue what's going on here. Why don't you explain it to me in ten words or less?"

Lips tight with displeasure, Rose looked at him for a moment then sighed and leaned against the dresser. "Bruce, I know that you think the world of this man, but he's deceived you on the most fundamental level."

Bruce couldn't help it. He laughed.

Glaring now, his mother snapped, "He's a homosexual and he's in love with you."

That stopped the laughter cold as shock ran through Bruce. "Excuse me?"

Nodding in satisfaction, Rose said, "You heard me perfectly well, Bruce. There's nothing wrong with your ears."

"Yeah, okay, I did hear you. I just don't believe you," Bruce exclaimed.

"Believe it. He admitted it to me at dinner last night. I told him to leave you alone, that you deserved a chance to live your own life and be happy. That it was too dangerous and wrong for you to be around him anymore."

Disbelief warred with the anger and Bruce had to stop himself from yelling at his mother. Turning from her, he stalked from the room before he said something that he would regret, no matter how true it might be.

Why hadn't he gone over to see Johnny the night before? He'd known that something was wrong! Fuck!

"Son? Bruce? Are you all right, baby?"

Keeping his back to her, Bruce said quietly, "I don't want to see you right now, Mom. Could you just...give me some space, okay?"

There was a brief pause, then, "Of course. And, I'm sorry Bruce, but it's for the best."

That did it. Rounding on her, Bruce snarled, "You haven't seen me in ten years, Ma! Ten years and yet you think that you can just come in here and rearrange my life to how you think it should be? I'm trying to see where you have that right, but I can't! Johnny's my best friend, do you hear me? You played on his fears and his insecurity and his guilt like a pro. Do you know how long and hard I fought to keep him from becoming a recluse? Do you? Do you have any idea how much trauma this man has been through and yet somehow, somehow, he still remains the best, most decent man I've ever known? God, Ma, how could you!?"

Surprise and guilt flittered across her delicate face as she apologized, "I'm sorry, baby, I just..."

"Do not call me that, okay? I haven't been your baby in a long time."

Hurt now, Rose took a deep breath and answered, "You're right. I don't even know you anymore, Bruce, don't know the man that you've turned into. I'm sorry if you think I did the wrong thing, but I was just trying to look out for you, to protect you."

Disappointed, Bruce pointed out, "Since when did love become something I needed protecting from, Mom?"

The silence was thick and heavy, and finally, she just offered a sad smile and returned to the bedroom.

Sick at heart, Bruce sat on the couch and rested his head in his hands.

* * * *

Johnny stared at the envelope that was addressed to him in Bruce's heavy scrawl. It was unmistakable and called to him, but he was afraid to open it, afraid to even touch it. It had been a month since he'd left Cleaves Mill for Boston and he'd been hiding out ever since. It was almost funny how with glasses and a darker hair color, people didn't even recognize him.

He still had visions, he still helped people wherever he could, but he'd taken a different tact and tried to disappear as soon as possible after a favorable outcome. It helped that Gene had hired him a personal assistant who was there strictly to help facilitate things for Johnny in whatever fashion he needed.

It was amazing how much simpler it was to get the cops to believe you weren't a lunatic when the Chief of Police was around for a reference.

The letter had arrived almost three weeks ago, but Johnny hadn't been able to bring himself to open it. He was positive that Rose had spilled the beans to Bruce, that his friend now knew the feelings that Johnny harbored for him. It was the black man's reaction to that, that Johnny was afraid of facing.

Not that he thought Bruce would cast him off, it was the opposite in fact. Johnny knew that this wouldn't change anything about their friendship and he was almost wishing that weren't so. He wanted Bruce to react to the revelation. He wanted some kind of explosion. He wanted...

Johnny snorted derisively and rubbed his eyes, tired. He wanted Bruce to make some kind of passionate declaration that he'd only been waiting for some kind of sign from Johnny to reveal secret feelings of his own.

"Mr. Smith?"

Looking towards Karl, Johnny found the older man standing hesitantly in the bedroom doorway. "Yes, Karl?"

"There's a young man demanding to speak with you and he's being quite forceful with the hotel staff," Karl reported.

Shock ran through Johnny as he realized that it had to be Bruce. "Ah, do they know who it is?"

"It's Mr. Lewis, sir."

Shit! Johnny definitely wasn't ready for this. He glanced at the letter, but left it where it was as he took a deep breath and ordered, "All right. Send him up. I'll be in the main room."

"Yes, sir."

Taking a breath, Johnny got to his feet and walked painfully out to the main suite. He hadn't been able to find another therapist that he could tolerate, let alone someone who could touch him without provoking endless visions or who was even as good as Bruce. He had just settled on the couch when he heard the door open behind him and stiffened.

Bruce walked into his line of sight and took the loveseat opposite Johnny, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest expectantly. "You didn't open my letter."

Well. That was blunt enough. "Ah, no. I didn't."

"Do you even still have it?" Bruce asked.

"Yes."

"Read it."

"How did you find me?" Johnny stalled.

Obviously amused, but willing to go along with it, Bruce answered, "Oh you know. I know this nurse who dated a cop that was a cousin of the EMT who fished your sorry ass out of the Charles last week."

Johnny winced at the exaggerated Boston accent. Bruce was an uncanny mimic sometimes. "You heard about that, huh?"

"Yeah I heard about that. Now where's the damn letter?"

"Why don't you just tell me..."

"Johnny. Now."

Swallowing nervously at the dire tone, Johnny motioned vaguely towards the bedroom. "On the dresser."

Bruce hopped up from the loveseat and crossed easily to the bedroom. It seemed to take a long time before he came back out, but finally he held the letter out to Johnny, who eyed it like he would any dangerous thing. He hesitantly took it. There wasn't any vision, thank God, but he didn't open it right away.

"Where's the guy who let me up?"

"Karl? I don't know," Johnny answered.

"I'm going to go find him and ask him something. I expect that letter read by the time I get back, Smith."

Not that Bruce wasn't a take-charge kind of guy anyhow, but there was an extra...oomph to the other man that was sending a thrill through Johnny. He firmly told his hormones to back down and flipped the letter over. When the door closed behind Bruce, he took a deep breath and tore open the letter.

Hey John,

My Mom told me what went down between you two and I can't believe that you would just back down like that without at least telling me what happened! Jerk. It's probably a bad idea to write this when I'm drunk because all kind of things will come out that probably shouldn't, but what the hell. You only live once, right?

Okay. First. You're in love with me? When and how did that happen, and where the hell was I when it did??

Second. Did I mention you're a jerk? Because you are. Sometimes you're even an asshole. I think this time qualifies.

Third. Okay, even drunk this one's difficult because you know, despite all that new-age stuff that I'm always spouting, I'm still a man and feelings are hard to talk about. Let's get blunt and use all those crappy labels that I hate with a passion. I'm bi. I love women, definitely, but I love men too. Just so happens that it wasn't something I wanted to do anything about up here. You know, being black in maine was enough fun all on its own. There wasn't anyone I wanted to open that door for.

Well, except for you. Which leads us back to the asshole part, because I've dropped enough hints to be anvils, man. Dancing with the girl I came with, does that sound familiar? Or maybe the whole Angel thing? Oh, well okay, I didn't tell you about that. Ask me about it when I'm sober sometime.

So anyhow. I'm not in love with you, but I could be, so damn easy to do with you, man. You're the best man I know, right up there with my Dad. Not that you're like my dad, cause you're not, except for that. Oh shit. Let's just leave that whole Daddy thing out of this, okay? I'm drunk and it's really starting to show.

Just - come home, John, please come home so we can talk about this, okay?

Bruce

Johnny stared blankly at the letter for a few minutes, unable to think about anything except that it wasn't impossible. That Bruce said it wasn't impossible. That he wanted Johnny to go home.

"So?"

The guarded tone was new, and Johnny looked over at his friend feeling just about as cautious as Bruce looked. Clearing his throat, Johnny croaked, "Angel?"

It really was possible for a black man to blush, though of course not as spectacularly as a white man. Johnny grinned as Bruce's skin darkened and an embarrassed look crossed his face.

"Shut up, man," Bruce grumped, a reluctant grin of his own surfacing. He sat beside Johnny, half turning to face him and continued, "During the vision with my Dad. It was...you were the one constant thing. You're my own personal angel, John, the man with the higher calling, the one that shows and reminds me what's good and right in this world. And you know what? My Dad, he liked you, man. He told me that it was my job to watch out for you."

Frowning a little, Johnny said, "Bruce, I don't need anyone to protect me."

Bruce snorted. "Yeah, Johnny, you do. But that's a discussion for another time. The point is, you should have talked to me instead of deciding for me what was best."

"What about Cassandra? I thought it was getting serious between you two," Johnny pointed out.

With a nod, Bruce admitted, "It was. But John, you've always been my first choice. Why do you think I drop everything when you call? To earn brownie points with my boss? Not. Cassandra is a fine woman, a good woman, and I like her a lot, but if I've got a shot with you then I have to take it."

Johnny looked away from the earnest, dark eyes. The last time he'd had such emotion directed at him, he'd been taken from it and he was scared.

"Johnny? Talk to me, man. Do I have a shot with you for real?"

Swallowing, Johnny nodded raggedly. "But..."

"But...?"

"But I'm terrified. What if it gets taken away again? I couldn't go through that again, Bruce, I wouldn't survive it!"

Bruce groaned in understanding and suddenly, Johnny was wrapped in strong arms, pulled tight to Bruce. Pressing his face against the other man's chest, Johnny held just as hard, unable to speak as he was slowly, soothingly rocked.

"I'm not going anywhere, John, I swear," Bruce murmured into his ear. "If you fell into a coma tomorrow and stayed that way for twenty years or more, you'd wake up to find me waiting for you. I love you, John."

That startled Johnny enough to break the embrace and look at the other man. "But I thought...in the letter you said..."

Half-grinning, Bruce interrupted, "Even drunk I've got enough self-preservation instincts not to come full out with the truth in a letter. If my mom was wrong about how you felt, or if you'd discovered on this little retreat that you were mistaken, well, I wanted to be able to keep our friendship intact."

Astounded, Johnny asked, "So, you do love me?"

In answer, Bruce leaned forward and pressed their lips together. It was a short, sweet kiss, almost chaste, before he pulled back and smiled. "Yeah. I love you, Angel."

Johnny blushed at the new nick-name, but couldn't stop grinning like a mad-man. "Me too! I mean, I love you too, Bruce."

Chuckling, Bruce answered, "Really. Well that's good to know cause I'd've had to kick your ass if you put us through all this for no reason."

Knowing there was one sure way to wipe the smirk from Bruce's face, Johnny grabbed his shirt and hauled him in for a real kiss. Sarah had always said he was a great kisser, and he put all his skills to the test then and there. It worked, because suddenly, he was flat on his back and Bruce had straddled him, kissing him back just as passionately.

Knowing hands tweaked his nipples through his shirt and Johnny moaned, shivering at the sharp caress. He was already hard, though he didn't really remember it happening, and instinct drove his hips up to rub against Bruce's ass. Bruce left his mouth to trail kisses down his throat to a bare chest. Johnny grinned wildly as he realized that Bruce really was a great multi-tasker. He hadn't even remembered that they were clothed during that kiss, never mind had enough presence of mind to start unbuttoning his shirt.

When Bruce's mouth sucked at his nipple, Johnny's breath stopped and he arched into the caress. "Oh, God, Bruce!"

"Johnny!"

Neither of them were so far gone that the new voice didn't instantly penetrate the passionate fog. They both froze and Johnny pushed up on his elbows to look over the back of the couch while Bruce hid his face against Johnny's chest. Sure enough, Gene was standing a short distance away, a look of horror on his round, reddened face. Clearing his throat, Johnny managed to sound almost casual as he said, "Hi Gene. Uh, something I can do for you?"

Gene's mouth open and closed a couple of times before he finally demanded, "What the hell is going on here?"

"Uh, well, exactly what it looks like," Johnny answered after a mental shrug. Not how he'd planned to tell the older man, but as announcements went, it was memorable. "Bruce found me and we talked and, well, now we're, you know, making up. Or, actually, making out in this case. How are you?"

Bruce started shaking against him in silent laughter and Johnny pinched his hip viciously.

Obviously trying to find an appropriate response, and failing, Gene drew himself up and said, "I expect to see you downstairs in ten minutes, Johnny. I suggest that you straighten yourself out before coming downstairs."

As soon as the door closed behind Gene, Johnny collapsed backwards onto the couch and Bruce let out a howl of laughter. Aggravated, Johnny shoved the other man off and Bruce fell to the floor, arms wrapped around himself as he laughed until tears came. Glaring, Johnny exclaimed, "This isn't funny! Christ! It's like getting caught by my Dad or something, Bruce!"

Wiping his eyes, Bruce sputtered, "Straighten yourself out!" and promptly started howling again.

Trying not to laugh, and failing, Johnny sat up, grabbed a cushion and slammed it into Bruce's face. Grinning, feeling absurdly happy despite the interruption, Johnny complained without rancor, "Bastard. I still have to go down and talk to him about this."

Finally getting control of himself, wheezing until he caught his breath, Bruce sat up and knelt between Johnny's legs. "I'm sorry, man, but the look on his face!"

"How would you know? You didn't even look! Coward."

Still grinning, Bruce replied, "I didn't need to look. I know exactly what he looked like."

"Bastard."

"Oh, poor Johnny. C'mere, Angel, let me fortify you a little."

So saying, Bruce kissed him, slow and deep and sweet. When he pulled back, Johnny was smiling, the irritation factor considerably lessened. "Look. When I'm done with Purdy, why don't we just head home?"

Bruce kissed him again and agreed, "Sounds like a plan to me. I'll have the Cruiser out front for a quick getaway."

Snickering, Johnny shook his head in amusement.

* * * *

Johnny found Gene in the bar and grimaced. It was going to be bad if the older man was indulging this early in the day. Taking a breath, Johnny joined him, sitting awkwardly on the stool. The bartender appeared like magic, and Johnny said, "Just a coke, thanks."

The young man poured it and moved away discretely.

"I can honestly say that I never saw this coming," Gene began. "I thought the two of you were just good friends."

Normally, Johnny would have gripped the other man's shoulder in comfort, but he didn't know how Gene would react to that now. Instead, he toyed with the straw in his glass and answered, "We were. We are. I've had feelings for Bruce for a while now, but I didn't think that he could ever return them."

"And coming to Boston?"

"Was me trying to run away from my problems."

Gene nodded slowly. "So what are your plans?"

Shrugging, Johnny answered, "We don't have any right now. We're not going to move in together tomorrow, if that's what you're wondering. It's just like any other relationship, Gene. We're going to take it slow because it's so important to us both."

"It didn't look like you were going slow to me."

Despite the disapproval replete in the older man's voice, Johnny smiled faintly. "No, and while I know you don't want to hear this, going slow doesn't mean no sex, either. Going slow means that we're going to really get to know each other, to be sure of ourselves before making any visible changes in our relationship. Bruce has his work to think about and it's important to him."

"I can't...this isn't something that I saw coming," Gene repeated, almost desperate.

Pursing his lips, Johnny said, "If it helps, it's not really something I expected either. There was only Sarah for the longest time. She was my world, Gene, you know that. But she's got her own life to lead and I can't keep intruding. It's not fair or right to Walt, or Sarah, or JJ."

"What about Dana? Or other women?"

"Dana's a good friend that I slept with when we both wanted it," Johnny answered, quiet but blunt. "And as for other women...I don't trust easily, and you know that too. The one woman who stood a chance is dead now. I love Bruce, Gene, and there's nothing that'll change that."

A slightly bitter laugh escaped Gene as he said, "You say that, but Johnny...if you think people are hard on you now? Wait until this gets out, because it will. Celebrity relationships, even traditional ones, don't last long on the whole. Add to that the extra strain of the relationship being a, a gay one. I'm sorry Johnny, I really don't think you're going to be happy in the long run."

Johnny shrugged again and commented, "Despite my Dead Zone, I don't know what the future holds for sure, Gene. About anything, never mind this, but I'd like to think I have your support. I love Bruce and he's a good man, he makes me happy. It's going to be hard on Bruce because I doubt his mother is going to support us. My parents are gone, but I care about you."

"Bruce doesn't."

Johnny half nodded in acknowledgment. "Bruce has problems with organized religion as a rule, and the Faith Heritage in particular. That doesn't mean he thinks you're a bad person, and he knows that you're part of my life."

"Even though he doesn't like it."

"About as much as you like him in mine. I mean, be honest, Gene. Even before this happened, you were never thrilled that my best friend was a black man," Johnny stated.

Stiffening, Gene exclaimed in a low voice, "I'm sorry you think so little of me as to believe that."

"Tell me it's untrue. That the dread locks and the music and his attitudes, even toned down as they are, didn't bother you."

Gene looked as if he'd swallowed something unpleasant. "We're very different people, Bruce and I, but I never had a problem with him being black, Johnny."

Eyeing the older man for a long moment, Johnny nodded slowly and said, "I'm glad. And like I said, I hope to have your support because, as you pointed out, this is going to be difficult for us. But not having it isn't going to stop us."

For a long time, Gene just stared into his glass as though the amber liquid would give him answers that he desperately sought. "I can't pretend to be happy with this, Johnny, but give me some time, all right?"

Relieved, Johnny nodded and agreed, "As much as you need."

With a deep sigh, Gene offered a weak smile and observed, "You never do anything the easy way, do you?"

Johnny thought wistfully of his life before the accident. His life had been very easy back then, but it didn't hold nearly the same amount of satisfaction as it did now, despite the problems and danger he faced on a regular basis. "What's the saying? That nothing good ever comes easy?"

Gene nodded and said, "I'll call you when I return to Cleaves Mill. It'll be in a couple of days."

"Good. And thank you, Gene, I really appreciate this," Johnny replied, daring a touch to the other man's shoulder.

The bar disappeared into Gene's office at the Faith Heritage. Gene was at his desk and Stillson was pacing in front of it.

Stillson stopped pacing to glare at Gene and exclaimed, "You never said anything about him being a fag, Gene!"

"That's because I didn't know," Gene soothed. "We'll be fine, Greg, I promise. There's nothing that we can't put a positive spin on, you know that."

"You better, because this can't hurt my campaign!"

"It won't. Hell, it'll probably secure you votes from the liberals who otherwise think you're too religious."

Stillson paused, a thoughtful look overcoming him. "You could be right."

The vision vanished when Johnny yanked his hand away.

Frowning, Gene asked, "Johnny? Are you all right?"

With a sick feeling in his stomach, Johnny forced himself to smile. He couldn't let Gene know that he'd seen anything. "Fine, I'm fine. Sorry, I didn't get a lot of sleep last night and it's been an emotional morning."

"Of course. Are you heading back now?"

"Yeah. Bruce is driving me. Oh, and tell Karl he's been a Godsend. I really appreciate his help," Johnny added.

"You could keep him on," Gene suggested.

Shaking his head, needing very much to get some fresh air, Johnny said, "I'm going to go. I'll see you later, Gene."

He didn't wait for a response, no longer caring what Gene Purdy thought of his behavior.

* * * *

"You look like you've seen a ghost, man," Bruce observed as Johnny got situated in the passenger's seat.

Still unsettled, Johnny nodded, hunched in on himself. "Might as well have."

A strong hand gripped his shoulder, massaging the muscles as Bruce asked, "You all right?"

Shivering a little, Johnny took a deep breath and then released it, looking at Bruce with a faint smile. "I will be."

Bruce returned the smile then pulled his hand back and started the car. "All right then. Homeward bound."

"We are," Johnny agreed, grinning at Bruce's groan. "You knew that was coming."

"You know what, man? Your taste in music..."

"Oh come on, that's a classic!"

"It's dusty man, musty, dusty and old."

"It is not!"

"Yeah, it is."

Settling in happily for a familiar debate about his bad taste in music, Johnny took Bruce's hand and smiled. Things weren't going to be smooth for them, but at least there was a 'them' for things not to be smooth with. And it's a good thing he didn't say stuff like that out loud, because it barely made sense in his head.

Boston faded quickly into the background as Bruce drove onto the highway towards Maine, back towards home.