THE GENTLEMEN'S CLUB Julian Written by Lady Poetess egiggles at moose-mail.com /~bbp Please do not reproduce on any website without permission. This story has no resemblance to anyone dead or alive. PROLOGUE The man on the floor was close to death. There was too much blood pooled on the floor, black crimson that tainted everything it touched. Christian Kane couldn't even muster the grief anymore as he watched the man die second by second. Blind to the blood he was stepping on, he went down to his knees beside the man. For a brief moment the cold moisture seeping through the fabric at his knees struck him. Shouldn't blood be warmer than this? His brother's blood. He touched Gilbert's cheek - cold. Gilbert was already slipping away. "Don't speak, Gil. It's okay." He was surprised his voice was calm, a far cry from the violent fury and grief he was feeling inside. "It'll be okay. You'll be fine," he whispered. "Jules - " Gilbert whispered. "Jules - " "Sssh." Kane closed his eyes as a drop of tear fell down his cheek. Don't die, he wanted to scream. But he couldn't. He ran his fingers through Gil's hair awkwardly. "Jules knew - " Gil tried to say again. "I know," Kane said. Gil shuddered that one time, his face contorted into an expression of agony. It lasted one second, then his face eased as his body fell limp. He was gone. Kane couldn't bear to see his younger brother's eyes, blue eyes now gray with death, he couldn't bear it, so he gently reached out and closed them. "Rest in peace, brother. I'll find Jules," Kane said quietly. He knew Julian McMahon. Gil had told Kane all about his newfound love in their emails. It was a beautiful moment, the first time Kane found his usually depressed brother feeling upbeat. Only last week, Gil's last email came, a teary, bitter email that told Kane more than clearly that the relationship was up in smoke. Kane dashed home too late - to find Gilbert like this, one clean gunshot through the man's forehead. He could curse the traffic jam that delayed him. He could hate himself for not trying to break his assignment in Serbia sooner to get back to Gil. But now was not the man for regrets. That would come later. For now, Kane had Gil's death to see to. Three man lay dead and one more would be soon. "I told you he's the best man with the gun," Jeremy Northam told Noah Wyle. Both were key players in this recent security problem that went wrong. "He creeps me out," Noah said. "And that's saying something." Both men were wounded. Jeremy's right shoulder was bleeding where a bullet went through, and Noah was gently nursing his bleeding right hand where a knife cut it deep. Noah was out of his league. He had handled guns before, but it was in the safety of a target ring or once when he - he had never been under a situation like this, where he was fired upon openly by terrorists. Usually they would let the Navy SEAL troops handle the hijack of the German embassy. Yet in the forty minutes since the hijack took place, Jeremy, Noah, and one more, Julian McMahon, had to be in the building. And while Noah was all for waiting until the SEAL or whoever come in, Jeremy and Julian decided to play hero. Noah was a computer type of guy. He didn't do this. But he had as much at stake in this as Jeremy and Julian. The J guys co-owned Wildcard Securities, a small-time security firm that specialized in high-tech gadgetry applications and skilled expertise and manpower. Noah's own security firm dealt with the software of a security program. Both of them were small-time names slowly climbing up the hierarchy on the account of their reliable track record. It made sense that Noah found himself working with those two guys and their company often. They shared mutual clients and they enforced rather than hindered each other's efforts. Noah provided the software, and the others carried out the dirty work. Now everything - their reputation as well as lives - was going down in flames. But not if Julian had his say. Noah had long learned that in Wildcard, Julian was the wild card in question. Calm, controlled, and always emotionless except for the hungry gleam in his eyes, he reminded Noah of a hungry panther who could pounce any moment. Both he and Jeremy shared a history of unorthodox service in armed forces, but while Jeremy was nonchalant and well adjusted, Julian seemed to be withdrawn as an effect of his past. The latter was not emotionless - far from it. He could be, if his buttons were pushed correctly, the most loyal, passionate, and dangerous man one could find. A perfect assassin. And between the three of them, they had actually cleared the terrorist defenses in a feat worthy of a Jerry Bruckheimer movie. It was a matter of breaking into the computer room, gunning down who was in the way, and letting Noah loose into the mainframe. A few minutes and the countermeasure procedures were underway. The terrorists as well as their hostages were now fully trapped in this building. Then it was a matter of sniping down the terrorists one by one. And that was Jeremy and Julian's specialty. Noah jumped as he heard gunfire. Then the thud of a body hitting the floor. The lights were dim as a result of power outage, and he was grateful for that. He thought he was cruel. He hadn't seen these two in action. "Gotcha," Julian said in a voice free from his native Australian accent, and then kicked open the boardroom door. Noah instinctively threw himself across the floor as Julian opened fire. There were six terrorists in the room along with several hostages. Julian took down four in just as many seconds - his aiming eerily superhuman perfect even in the dim light. The two remaining men, taking a hostage each as a shield, were easy target for Jeremy's surprise attack from behind. It was an art perfected by these two, it seemed: get everyone's attention on the seemingly invulnerable Julian, and Jeremy would sneak up from behind. "Is it over?" Noah asked. He survived this. Wow. At that moment, there was a click of a gun behind him. Noah turned, feeling death just around the corner and wishing he wouldn't die like this, to see the outline of a gunman. Julian's gun clicked - empty. "Fuck!" the man cursed. Noah closed his eyes. "Goodbye Birkoff," he thought even as he counted the seconds for the end. Ten, eleven, twelve. he opened his eyes, unable to believe that he was still alive. He was. He stared at the face of his very dead would-be killer. A very well aimed heel of a high-heeled shoe pierced through the spot between the man's eyes. Noah turned to Jeremy, who shrugged - the man probably smiled in the dim light, Noah couldn't see. And the shocked Ambassador was watching Noah - or rather, the dead gunman, her bright yellow stockinged foot still awkwardly splayed at an angle where Jeremy wrenched her shoe off. "I need to go home," Noah said numbly. ONE Julian McMahon stood at the roof of his penthouse apartment block and looked down forty stories to the world below. The night sky was clear and there was a perfect full moon, and light breeze caused his coat to billow, giving him the air of a brooding, Byronesque hero. The romanticism was lost on him, however. He only felt the cold to his bones. That and the weariness that cut deep into his soul. He was thirty-two, and he had lost count of how many people he had killed without any second thought. Thirteen two nights ago - and they called him a hero. It was fucking too bad that the thrill was lost. Once, he would have given anything to be a hero. Now, it was just fucking too bad. His feet inched forward towards the edge. "I wouldn't jump if I were you. You will be hit by the traffic as well. The pressure of the fall will cause internal bleeding. Getting hit by cars will definitely make you look stupid in the coffin." The silent voice startled Julian. He slipped, and just as easily, his right hand reached out and caught the ledge as he fell over the building. With an easy bound, he swung himself back up. And smiled to the stunned look of Gilbert Kane who had shouted and ran over the moment Julian fell. "I can't die. My self-preservation instincts are too good to let me die," Julian said slightly bitterly as he dusted his clothes. "Gil. You died a week ago." He said that aloud in a matter-of-fact tone. If anyone thought it ludicrous that he was speaking to a ghost, he wasn't one. It was only natural, he guessed, that he either went mad or there really were ghosts around and Gil had come back to haunt him. He welcomed the haunting - he embraced it. "I - " Gil started to say, then closed his mouth as he stared at Julian in what seemed like shock. "I read about it in the papers. They said it was suicide." Julian wanted to touch Gil, but he savagely kept his impulses in check. "And what do you think it was?" Gil asked quietly. "You tell me," Julian said simply. "Are you dead?" "No, I'm not," Gil said just as simply. With that, all his control broke free, like ice melting under the rising summer sun. "I never meant to hurt you, Gil. I'm sorry," Julian said. If his voice held an urgency that made it hard, it was an accurate reflection of his turbulent emotions. "Why the fuck did you kill yourself anyway? I'm not worth it, damn you." He clenched his fists, only to relax when he realized that there was nothing to hit. "I said we are just friends. Never meant to lead you on." "Are you drunk?" Gil asked quietly. He actually placed his hand on Julian's arm. Julian was momentarily diverted by this touch. Gil had never dared touch him this way. The man was all nervous ticks and paranoia that irritated Julian more often than not. Apparently death had a calming effect on Gil. He liked that. "No, just depressed," he answered honestly. "Look, want to - I don't know - listen to my CD collection? I'm so tired, and I don't want to be alone tonight. I don't expect you to say yes, not after - you know, but I'd be grateful." And to his surprise, Gil shrugged and said, "Okay." At that moment, Julian Augustus McMahon felt an unfamiliar lightness in his soul. It was as if the rusty chains in his soul had finally broken. For the first time, he felt lighter and freer, as if a sense of well-being had enveloped him in a protective cocoon. He gave Gilbert a curious look, before determination took hold. This was something new. An indefinable emotion, and one Julian intended to explore. Julian McMahon was mad. Christian Kane could only think of that as a reason why Julian would mistake him for his twin brother. Julian knew Gil was dead - that sealed it. The man was insane. A starkly beautiful insane man, Kane admitted. He knew now why Gil was attracted. He himself was, a surprise considering how he and Gil had diverse tastes in everything in life. As he watched the man sleep on the bed, his fingers itched to feel the tight musculature of the body he remembered pressed against him as Julian staggered, drunk, into the house. Julian's shirt had loosely fallen open, fastened together by a few buttons still intact, and the man's fur-lined chest tempted Kane's fingers to dig and bury themselves in the warmth of those dark curls. No gentle tapering of fine hair towards the groin for Julian - thick hair liberally coated the man's chest and stomach without any elegant patterns, just whorls of untamed strands. And Kane wondered if the man was any less hairy where the jeans hid him from Kane's eyes. Julian's elegant face and primal beauty wouldn't touch him this badly. It was the man's hunger that broke down Kane's defenses. Stark, yearning hunger and desperation that burned from Julian's eyes and emanating from every inch of that tall, elegant frame. Here was a man who wanted, craved, and yearned all his life for something intangible and impossible. Like. what? Love? Kane's harsh laugh startled even himself. Love. What a joke. Love was the most sadistic curse one could wish for in this life. Look at Gil. Gil. Julian knew something. What was it that he said earlier? "I'm not worth it. never meant to lead you on." Vague clues, but nonetheless, Kane wouldn't discount them. He had cracked Gil's code and accessed his twin's files. Everything suggested that Gil was on to something sinister. Kane didn't know what, but he would find out. Julian was his only clue, and until he knew more, his only suspect. And for the first time in his life, Kane prayed that he had the strength to withstand this dark and demonically handsome visage. But even as he closed his eyes to look away from the man, his fingers curled, as if in protest. They wanted to touch, and they wanted what his heart wanted but didn't dare. TWO "Good morning," Julian said cheerfully. He was cheerful. Best fucking sleep he ever had, and when he awoke, he saw Gil sleeping on the couch. "Want some breakfast?" he asked as he watched Gil warily raised himself from his couch. "Waffles, strawberry jam, toast, pancakes - I outdid myself in the kitchen today. You do eat, right, Gil?" It struck him as ridiculous, he talking to a dead man. Maybe this wasn't Gil, but someone else. A twin, perhaps. However, he just couldn't muster the energy or inclination to even ask who this man was. It was easier - for now - to believe that this man was Gil. Far better to live in denial than to face reality - the man that made him feel this good was probably a lie, like most everything else in his life. "I eat," Kane said. The man was good looking, Julian acknowledged to himself. The most beautiful he had ever seen. Sullen yet looking like a brooding Gothic hero, he made Julian wonder what he would look like if he smiled. Or when Gil came as Julian fucked him. Julian paused at that thought, and just as easily shrugged it off. Fine - he'd fuck Gil too. No big deal. Cold orange juice splashed onto his hands, and his momentary and unheard of carelessness disconcerted him. "Let me get that," Gil said, taking the jug away from him. The man was small, Julian thought stupidly. Not small, but compared to Jules' six-feet-two, Gil would reach just around his shoulder. He never noticed how delicate or vulnerable Gil was before. "Okay," he could only say. "This is crazy," he couldn't help saying. He couldn't help saying, staring, and stammering - his control had deteriorated more in two days than his entire life. "I should ask who you are. In fact, I should rightly put my gun to your head. But I won't." He lifted one leg to a stool and pulled out his automatic from the holster strapped to his lower left leg under his trousers. And grinned, knowing he was coming off a complete sociopath, at Gil's stunned look as he removed another from the holster around his right lower leg. And one more, he wouldn't tell Gil where that one came from, he thought mischievously. "Three guns - always on me. And that's on a good day." Gil only shrugged. His left hand absently moved to rubbed the left side of his neck as he poured orange juice into their glasses. It was an absent gesture, but one that made Julian's eyes follow the movements of those fingers along the slender curve of the neck. His mouth dried, and his cock hardened, causing his him to reel slightly from the abrupt light-headedness he felt. "I'm not Gil," the other man said finally. "I'm his twin brother Christian." "I know," Julian said. "Not who you are, but I guessed you aren't Gil." "Really?" Gil - Christian - looked at Julian curiously. "So you are sane." "That is still up to the jury. Last night I wasn't feeling. like my usual self." Julian turned at the bell chime of his toaster and removed two well-done light brown pieces of toast. He made to toast two more slices of bread and returned his attention to the man. "So Christian - " "Please, Kane. I never liked that name Christian." "Kane." Julian grinned. "Christian Kane. A contradiction." "My parents aren't that imaginative," Kane said, his tone one of bemusement. "You aren't going to ask why I know you aren't Gil?" Julian asked. "No." Kane studied the plate of toast before him, as if steadying himself. Then, "I'd like to ask whether you killed Gil." There, he had done it. With one easy, careless question, he had placed his life in Julian's hands. In a way, he welcomed the end of the charade. The burden of pretense was another excruciating burden he wasn't willing or able to endure. Not when he was already grief-stricken with Gil's death, his own life, and hell, the whole existence in general. Maybe the oblivion promised by the three weapons rested incongruously on the table would be a better alternative. He had been so tired and cold all his life that he just wanted it to end. But Julian only shrugged. "I didn't. I like that fellow. The only way I hurt him was to tell him that his love for me was all on his side." He was layering jam on toast, and the sight of him holding a knife was mesmerizing and terrifying - a promise of violence as much as hospitality. Yet, watching the smooth gliding motion of blade on bread, Kane only felt a calming reassurance. Life or death - it didn't matter to him anymore. "I'm sorry I hurt him that way. You want to shoot me for causing him to go kill himself?" Julian asked, startling Kane. And the man pushed an automatic towards Kane. "Go ahead." With a flash of insight, Kane knew. Looking into Julian's eyes, he knew - Julian didn't want to live anymore than he did. The man's eyes seemed ancient in their tightly leashed pain and torment. Both of them could be soul mates if Kane was a foolish romantic. Both wanting it to end but couldn't fight the courage to do it. Both waiting for someone to offer them a way out. "I don't think Gil killed himself. One clean accurate shot through here." He gestured at the center between his eyes with his hand. Strange, it didn't hurt so much to talk about it. "Your trademark." "Yes. But didn't you hear? I'm a hero now," Julian said mockingly. "I saved people. I don't kill them." More sober, he added, "And there's no reason for me to kill Gil. But there's no reason for you to believe me, is there?" "No," Kane said honestly. He didn't know what to say or think now. "No," he said again, this time a whisper as he closed his eyes and tried to focus. What should he do now? At that moment, there was a ring of a phone. He opened his eyes and watched Julian pull out a cell phone from one of his back pocket. "Yeah? Jeremy, yeah, it's me. I know I'm running late, but there's no important - shit, I forgot about the Myers contract." Kane couldn't help smiling at the look of dismay at Julian's face as he argued with the man on the phone. It was nine thirty in the morning, but obviously Julian was running late for some important business event. And the man at least showed concern in that. Maybe he wasn't that inhuman after all. He looked around the house. Clean, beautiful, and sterile were three words he could use to describe Julian's luxury penthouse. Julian might want to die, but he wasn't above making his life as comfortable as possible while he lived. "I think I better go," he said stupidly when Julian hanged up. Not that he had anywhere to go. He had resigned from his job and was currently living in a cheap motel room. "No. Don't go," Julian said. "I can help you solve whatever this is about Gil." Tempting. But Kane wasn't sure if he could trust Julian. But he had to start somewhere, and he would make sure he would be on his guard at all time. right? How hard could that be? "Gil thought he loved me, and I turned him down," Julian said. "But if you happen to think you love me just as much, I won't turn you down. That is the difference between you and your brother, Kane. Gil may look like you, but he is just a tolerable friend to me. But you, you make me burn like no one else." He grinned. "Watch your back." THREE "Three hamburgers, two large Coke - the original, not that fucking Diet ones, a large-sized fries, and a Fillet-o-Fish," Julian told the girl behind the McDonald's order counter and turned to Jeremy. "You have a stupid grin on your face. What is it?" "Nothing," Jeremy said. "It's just that I have never seen you like this before." At Julian's look, he elaborated. "You seemed different. Like a man who had just a jackpot at Vegas. Are you seeing someone?" "Not really," Julian said. He picked up his order and frowned at Jeremy's bemused look. "What the fuck is it?" "You planning on eating that all alone?" "Okay, there is a man waiting for me at home." He hesitated. He was a man who clung to his privacy tenaciously. "We're not fucking if that's what you are wondering." "I'm never that crass," Jeremy protested unconvincingly. "I've never seen you with anyone before. This is a first." "There are things about me that even you don't know, Jeremy," Julian told him. They had been through hell and back together, there were little of each other that they didn't know. But both weren't so na‹ve as to believe that the other didn't hold back a skeleton or two in his closet. "Is it so hard to imagine me with someone, living happily?" he asked quietly, however. Jeremy's words struck a nerve he never even knew he had. "Can we ever be happily in the conventional sense?" Jeremy asked back. "Look at me and Billy. We won't be holding hands and watching `Will and Grace' over popcorns, that's for sure. Come on, Jules, it's not that bad. Try to have fun while you're at it, okay?" "Yeah," Julian said, masking the heaviness he was feeling with forced levity in his tone. Reo Speedwagon was lamenting about lonely nights on the player when Julian walked into his place. He hated that song. It struck too close for comfort. He couldn't walk away, however, when he saw Kane asleep at the work desk. His laptop - his files. Normally such invasion of privacy would have Julian itching to bash the offender's teeth in. But this was Kane. He gave the screen a brief glance. Kane believed that Gil had come in contact with some incriminating information about some shady criminal figures, hence Gil's murder. Privately, Julian thought Kane had watched way too many Godfather movies. But he knew what it was to believe in something to the point of denial. He had heard about twins being close, and he could only imagine Kane's agony. And he wished he could take it away, if he knew how. His hands were stained with blood, and they brought death, not healing. Still, these bloodstained hands gently shook Kane awake. "I brought us dinner," he said tenderly. "Sorry I was late." "That's okay," Kane said. "I was just going through my brother's discs." "Found anything?" Julian asked. "Nothing." There was such heavy disappointment/despair in Kane's voice that Julian felt his defenses crack despite himself. And he had to make things right. He didn't know how, but he would. "I'll talk to some friends tomorrow," he said. "I'll see if anyone can dig up everything Gil had been doing this last year. Financial transactions, business contacts, anything. Just hand me a list of projects Gil was doing, with whom and where and how, and I'll see what I can do." "How can I trust you?" Kane whispered. A thoughtless statement, Julian guessed, from a man too weary to think of subtleties. Just like he was. "Because I will never hurt you. I know this is crazy, and I just met you recently. But trust me, Kane. I will blow my own brains out before I do you harm." "You make a very compelling case for yourself. But I don't trust easily. Never have." "I know." "Yeah, I think you do." Julian reached out and touched Kane's cheeks. That was all he wanted to do, he'd swear. But his lips grazed Kane's, a brief touch that caused him to close his eyes, his heart hammering in his chest from the suffocating intensity of his pain. yearning. something. He briefly registered Kane's acquiescence, but all was drowned in the roar of blood in his head when he felt Kane's tongue slowly danced in a slow, sensual abrasion against his. He was drowning in the taste and feel of Kane. Every curve of Kane's neck and shoulders - Julian pulled the man's shirt roughly apart - he explored with the nibbling of his teeth or the sucking of his lips on the tender skin. His hands were already pushing Kane down to the floor, pressing the man down as he reached down for - "Ouch!" "Jeez, sorry," Julian said. Heat flushed his face as he groggily raised to his feet and tore at his shirt. Kane just watched, brows lifted in a mien so sardonic, as Julian pulled off the holster he had around his left shoulder. And the swift discarding of his trousers and briefs followed. "Oh my," Kane could only say. Julian was one of the most hirsute man he'd seen. But the man's cock strained high and proud in a prodigious erection, the wide tip already oozing drops of lubrication in anticipation. His own fingers were clumsy on the fastening of his jeans. "That's. nice." Julian only grinned, a crooked roguish grin, as his hands pushed aside Julian's clumsy attempt at unfastening his pants. Julian didn't lack finesse - he had Kane out of them in a flash, and one hand pushed to bury itself in the warmth between Kane's thighs, under the man's balls. As he kissed Kane, he raised to move over Kane. Julian didn't know where he was aiming, but Kane guided him. Too busy drowning in Kane's taste, savoring the man's mouth and responding kiss like a dying man's last drop of water, he was shocked at the tight, searing burn of his cock's penetrating the man under him. Tight - so tight that Julian was surprised he didn't tear his foreskin altogether in his forging up Kane's anus. He plunged hard, testing the waters, and Kane only met him every inch, lifting his hips until Julian was submerged completely in that fucking hot ass. Then Kane gave a choked cry of impatience, his hands pressing into the back of Julian's neck urgently. He began thrusting his cock and felt Kane's shuddering spasm with each thrust. "I'm sorry," he whispered into Kane's ear. "I'll let you hurt me the way I did you the next time. I swear." "I'm not hurting," Kane gasped, laughing or sobbing Julian didn't know. "Okay, I am but - God! Harder, damn you! Fuck me, Jules, and yeah, I'd hold you to that." Julian tried to grin, but couldn't. "You'll get your chance," he said instead. "I don't let many guys fuck me," he said, hoping Kane would understand. "But I'll let you fuck me." How could he tell Kane that he found anal penetration by someone he had no control over too vulnerable and too discomfiting? Why should he be telling Kane this, anyway? But he couldn't think, not when his balls were on fire. And not when with one last hard thrust, his orgasm broke forth. It was fabulous. just fabulous. Julian was still dazed hours later as he lay back on his bed and absently rubbed his sore anal pucker with his hand. He contemplated his wet fingers, but Kane surprised him by beating him to it. As Kane licked his fingers, Julian turned to look at the man lying beside him. "Gil and I always were together in everything," Kane said later. "There was no one else that will look out for us. And I always had to protect Gil. Sometimes I wonder if." "I know. Sometimes I wished I haven't told Gil so bluntly that he was wrong," Julian said. Kane turned to look at him, and then sighed, burying his head in the soft, dense curls of Julian's chest. He didn't say anything, and Julian didn't need to hear anything more. Kane's crosses were his to bear, same with Julian and his own crosses. Whatever guilt they nurtured, it wasn't theirs to give and it wasn't the other's to exonerate. He hadn't been to a fair in years. A lifetime ago, really, when he was eight and still living in Brisbane, and an uncle took him to a simple fair. He was struck by the lights and the sound of this larger scale fun fair, and for a brief second he thought he was back in hell-torn Ireland. Then Kane laughed and the demons faded. Kane laughed because the boy manning the target-shoot stall was literally begging Julian to stop playing. "You want that?" Julian asked, nodding at a glittery and probably inexpensive watch at the prize stall. "No problem." And indeed, there was no problem. Put a gun in his hand, real or not, and he would solve everyone's problems. "What are you thinking?" Julian asked, determined not to let old demons haunt him tonight. He had been sleeping with Kane - living with the man, in fact - for two weeks now, and he didn't want this to screw up. For the first time he was remotely pleased with the way his life was going. "Nothing," Kane said. Becoming very aware of the toy gun and the way he had unerringly toppled all the targets in rapid-fire speed, Julian felt his blood freeze. "I didn't kill Gil," he begged Kane to believe it. "What will it take to make you believe me?" "I don't think you kill Gil," Kane said. "Maybe I'm an idiot, but I just can't bring myself to believe you do, despite all the evidences to the contrary. I wouldn't sleep with you if I do, Jules. And I don't know what to think. All this is so strange and new." Julian numbly shoved the toy gun back to the boy in charge and roughly told the boy to keep the watch. To Kane, he walked up to him and asked, his voice low, urgent, "This is new to me too." He didn't care if they were talking about the same thing. Hope, an insidious trait, once aroused was impossible to tamper. "But - " How to put it in words? "It's not that bad, really?" "No. It's not. But it's something terrifying." Kane looked at Julian. "It won't last. They never do." So they were talking about the same thing. Julian felt his guard ease. "I know. But I don't care. You?" Kane's answer was a tightening of his grip on Julian's arm. Julian tampered the laugh bubbling in him. "Let's go check out the roller coaster," he said instead. FOUR "Gil was murdered," Julian told Kane two nights later. "These will tell you who killed him, et cetera." He tossed the fax absently to Kane and turned away without waiting to see Kane's reaction. "Will you?" Kane just asked. "Anything," Julian answered, his hands absently toying with the curtains as he watched the world outside his window. "I hated it, you know. Killing people," he said quietly. "They told me I was the best, that I have an aim like no one else. And it's always for some greater good. Killing people, that's what I do, and I hated it." He turned to look at Kane. "I like shooting, Kane, but I hate killing people." Kane didn't say anything. He just walked up and put his arms around Julian' waist. He placed his chin on Julian's back and breathed in deep. "Gil is a friend," Julian said. "And I'll do anything for you." He sighed and let the curtains fall down on the world outside. He turned and took Kane in his arms. As he kissed the man, he'd like to imagine that here, in this dark room, nothing else would matter except for he and Kane. A womb-like nebulous sanctuary where there would be no accountability, no regrets, no guilt, just he and Kane. Maybe if he closed his eyes and wished hard enough, he would believe his own delusions. The man was distinctly English, tall, and handsome in an arrogant way only the English could perfect. So this was Julian's business partner. Kane stepped back - Jeremy Northam's face was pleasant but there was a distinctly dangerous gleam in his eyes now. "So you are the one sending Julian to his death," Jeremy said simply, still at the doorway. He looked at Kane insolently, his eyes raking Kane from face to toe and back to his face again. Then he shook his head. "I never knew he would actually don his armor and play the knight to you." Julian left two hours ago. It was a week since he'd told Kane what happened to Gil. It was just what Kane suspected, a plot right out of a bad gangster movie. Gil was laundering money from a drug dealer, and paid the price when he was discovered. Kane never knew Gil had it in him to do this. He never knew he had it in him to manipulate Julian in avenging Gil for him. He refused to feel guilty. He had no regrets in this. Julian made this choice himself. Like he said, Gil was his friend too. Really? A small voice sneered at him from the darkness of his mind. "Julian swore that nothing would make him voluntarily take up a gun and kill, Jeremy said, seating himself on a couch. The same couch where Julian had desperately asked Kane to make love to him the night before. Again, guilt tore at Kane. Julian's face, the resignation and the despair in his ever so expressive eyes, as he seemed to touch and memorize every imprint of Kane's touch on his body - they never said anything, but they both knew Julian could never come back. And again, Kane wondered how he could let Julian do this. Gil was his brother, all he ever had. Surely, a closure of a lifelong bond was worth more than a man whom he had only known in a month. A man who offered him his very life for a promise of reciprocation Kane never actually offered verbatim - surely that wasn't worth giving up the memory of a twin for, right? "You must be one hell of a guy to make him do this," Jeremy said, ruthlessly driving the blade of conscience into Kane's armor. "He almost never recovered from the incident at the German embassy, but he did, for which I thank you." "What are you doing here?" It came out as a choked gasp from Kane, however. "I'm asking you to leave. Now. Because if he goes on a shooting spree, he will never get over what he did. If he doesn't get killed himself." Jeremy's voice was distinctly harsh now. "You haven't seen him spending all those hours on his knees in some small church or chapel every time we finished some gig. Bombing houses full of kids and women, yeah, we've done that. We've taken part in some friendly part time genocidal parties too. No big deal. It's always for some greater good. The lives of a few for the sake of the rest of the country, or world, or what fucking ever. But he couldn't take it. He's not strong." He shot a venomous glance at Kane. "He was on his way out of it when you came in and asked him to go kill people for you." "I - " "You don't intend to be here when he comes back, do you?" Jeremy asked bluntly. "I don't know," Kane admitted. "So you will leave him to his own private repercussions. Some grand love Julian has." Jeremy lifted a mocking brow at Kane's pained look. "He told me, you know. Your birthday was in two week's time, and he asked me how he should go about making it the best day of your life. Because he fucking loves you, that stupid fool. He has changed these few weeks. Poor bastard. Let's hope he dies tonight, because what awaits him back here isn't going to be any better." "Shut up!" Kane shouted then. "Oh God, shut up!" He fell onto his knees as all his strength left him. "Shut up," he whispered, doubling over in pain more psychological than physical. "Oh, Julian, what have I done?" "Come on," Jeremy said, more kindly now. "That's okay. We all make mistakes. Tell me where he is, exactly, and I'll take care of things." Kane nodded through his tears. Two shots in his right leg, one in his shoulder, and three broken fingers in his right hand. Good thing he was ambidextrous and his left hand was as adept at handling a gun as his right. Not as good, okay, but good enough. But there was no question of him not surviving this night. Six guns were aiming at him now. He would be dead if he wasn't pressing his own weapon at the temple of their big honcho. It was a stalemate, but one that was fast running out on him as he was increasingly dizzy from loss of blood. He wondered if Kane would appreciate this. Maybe one day he would tell whoever lucky enough to spend his life with him, "This is Julian McMahon, a nutcase who actually died for me." He had so many things to tell Kane. And things to do. He wanted to do so many things too. "Okay, party's over." Julian's head shot up, stunned. Jeremy and the guys from their company had surrounded the gunmen, their own weapons trained to shoot. "Let the man go," Jeremy said, his voice pleasant as always, as if he was addressing a group of friends at a party. But there was no mistaking the icy steel in his voice. "I say do it." The guns were dropped to the ground. "You too, Jules," Jeremy said, much gentler now. "Come on, you don't want to do this." "He had Gil killed. Kane said - " "It's okay." Kane walked out from behind Jeremy. "I'm sorry, Jules. I was a selfish coward." "No," Julian started to say. "It's okay, Jules. It doesn't matter anymore," Kane said. "Just let him go, and we'll go home, okay?" "You and me?" Julian asked, hope creeping into his weary voice. "Yeah," Kane said. "Please, let him go." Julian hesitated, lowering the gun slightly. That was when the man in his hold elbowed him in the stomach hard. Julian fell back, and watched as the other man reached for the gun on the floor. The man didn't make it. Jeremy's aim was accurate, as always. "Why the fuck do I always end up doing this?" Jeremy said. "Fuck." Julian looked at the pen embedded three inches into the very dead man's forehead, and started to laugh. Or tried to, since he was dripping blood from his mouth. Kane gave a cry and ran to him. Julian wanted to tell him this was okay, he'd suffered worse, but he then decided that having Kane weep and fuss over him was a much more enjoyable alternative. He lay back in Kane's arms. "I didn't kill anyone," he said. "Good for you," Kane said between sobs. He was tired. Too tired. And in the comforting arms of Kane, Julian finally slept EPILOGUE "First we smashed a terrorist ring, and now we smashed a drug dealing ring," Jeremy said happily. "We're famous and people are calling in. I think we can give ourselves a raise by the end of this year." Julian looked up from his cleaning of his ever-present favorite automatic. "Whatever," he said absently. "Look, you think it's okay? Not too fast or excessive?" "For the fuck knows how many millionth time, Jules, yes, go for it," Jeremy said. "There's no rule saying there must be a fixed period of time before you pop the question. You have the ring?" "Yeah." Julian made to reach for his pocket, but Jeremy quickly stalled him. "You don't wanna see it?" "I have seen it," Jeremy reminded him. "I have - " "Green or blue?" Julian pulled out the ties and placed one by one onto his neck. "Come on, you know this better than me. Which looks better on me?" "That's it. You're mad. Snap out of it!" Jeremy said. "What are you doing?" "Planning for Kane's birthday tonight. Green or blue?" Julian eyed the reflection of himself with the blue tie critically in the mirror. "Green," Jeremy said. "What happened to the real Julian McMahon anyway?" "Silver or gold?" Julian raised two pairs of cufflinks. "You can't even fuck," Jeremy told the man. "I don't think you should be walking around doing this. Your wounds aren't healed yet. Gold." He shook his head. "I see you're doing okay here. Guess I'll head back to the office." "Yeah. Hey, Jeremy," Julian said, stopping the man at his tracks. "Thanks." "No problem," Jeremy said. "I can get it up," Julian couldn't help telling the man's back. "Not too much, but I could get it up." "I don't want to know," Jeremy said. "Take care, buddy. See you at the office soon." Jeremy hesitated and turned around at the doorway. He saw Julian frowning comically at the mirror as the man tried on several shirts. This was so unlike the old, melancholic Julian who blamed himself for all the sins in the world. For a moment, Jeremy was struck by the carefree, gaily look on his friend's face. Julian would be okay, he decided. And for that, he would work at being nicer to Kane in the future. He had the feeling Kane was going to be around for a long, long time.