Part 1 - Eliza/Welmach

Charting New Boundaries

The Discipline Project

Jason grabbed his carry‑on bag from the overhead compartment and turned an impatient scowl on his brother and Dale. The plane was virtually empty and the two of them were still settled in their seats with their heads together. He could hear John whispering reassuring words to his partner.

"Don't tell me you're still afraid to fly in Philip's plane," Jason said in disbelief.

"I'm not afraid," Dale snapped.

"Good. Then let's go."

As Jason made his way down the aisle he tried not to give in to guilt. Maybe he shouldn't have been so short with Dale. It was only natural that the young man was worried about flying in a small plane...look what happened the last time. It had been three months and he was still recovering from his injuries.

Maybe Jason was wrong to badger John into this trip. But, it was an opportunity Jason couldn't miss. He wanted to see Philip again. Okay, he could have gone by himself, but he wasn't sure if he had the nerve to meet the pilot by himself. He needed his brother there for support.

And it wasn't as if John didn't have a good reason to return to Alaska. A follow‑up article for the Sierra Club was quite an opportunity for the writer, and Jason wanted his brother to achieve the success he deserved. If John refused to leave Dale behind, well, Jason, being the good brother he was, had to make sure Dale came along. And Jason did...eventually...convince him. If the rare threat or crazy promise came into play...well, desperate times called for desperate measures...and Jason was desperate.

But not now.

Now he was headed off the plane and on his way to meet Philip.

Almost.

"Jason! Slow down!"

The sharp tone brought the mathematician to a halt and he moved to the side so other passengers could pass. He waited impatiently while Jason and Dale made their way down the terminal.

"Philip's waiting," Jason told them.

"And he'll wait a little longer," John assured him.

Dale, still stinging from being called afraid, added, "You sure are getting worked up over a pen pal."

Blue eyes glared at him. "He is not my pen pal."

Dale shrugged. "Internet playmate."

"Enough you two," John ordered.

"He started it," Dale defended himself.

John gave his partner a stern look then turned another on his brother, but Jason didn't even notice. His eyes were fixed on the end of the terminal.

With a resigned sigh, John said, "Let's go find Philip."

That was enough for Jason. Without a backward glance, he hurried along the terminal but stopped dead in his tracks when he reached the gate.

He was there. Philip was there, just as tall, sexy, handsome, sexy, strong, sexy, and sexy as Jason remembered.

A smile brightened the pilot's face as he greeted them. "Welcome back to Alaska."

When Jason gave no response, John held out his hand to the man. "It's good to see you again, Philip."

"You too, John," Philip replied, shaking his hand and smiling at the man by his side. "Hello, Dale. It's good to see you up on two legs and looking so well. How are you feeling?"

"Fine thanks," Dale said and smirked at Jason. "Well, just don't stand there. Kiss him or something."

Jason turned bright red and glared at Dale.

"I'm glad you're here," Philip said, hoping to alleviate Jason's nervousness.

Jason smiled and found himself engulfed in a warm hug, one he eagerly returned. This felt good...no better than good, he decided. It felt right.

When the too brief hug ended, Jason asked, "So did you get the Otter?"

"Yep. She's fueled and waiting for her first group of passengers," Philip told him as they began their short trek through the airport. "I have a friend on the ground crew who will be delivering your bags to the hanger."

"What's the Otter?" John asked.

"A DeHavilland Otter. My new plane."

"A bush pilot's dream," Jason added. "Two engines. A cruising speed of 209..."

"How do you know all this?" Dale inquired.

"I read about it," was the dismissive answer.

"I didn't know you were so interested in planes."

John shot his brat his patented behave look and noticed that Dale was a little pale. "Are you okay, sweetheart?"

"I'm fine," the young man said, but he didn't look fine.

And by the time they arrived at the hanger, he looked downright awful and was clinging to John's arm.

"Dale?"

His panic got the best of him and he exclaimed loudly, "I'm not going!"

"What?"

"I'm not getting on that death trap!" He pointed at the small plane.

"It's perfectly safe," Philip assured him.

"And why should I believe you!" Dale demanded. "That's what you said the last time and look how that turned out!"

"It wasn't Philip's fault." Jason jumped to Philip's defense. "The weather was bad."

"I don't care! I want a real airline and a real pilot!"

******

Carl sat at the bar of “The Diner” with moose stew and a cup of coffee. His cousin Vincent, the diner's owner, was settled across the bar discussing the upcoming World Eskimo Indian Olympics.

"Michael said you're participating in two events."

"So it appears," Carl stated.

"And just a few months ago you said you weren't participating at all," Vincent chided.

"I wasn't."

"So what happened?"

Carl took a sip of his coffee and said, "Michael."

At Vincent's questioning glance, he explained, "He felt that I should sign‑up, but he forgot to tell me."

"So he initiated your participation?"

"Down to filling out the registration form and signing my name."

While he had participated in the games in previous years, the Inupiaq had decided he would be an observer this year. Michael, however, had other plans, which Carl discovered when he received his member's packet.

The evening of the packet's arrival began with Michael arguing that he had Carl's best interest at heart then moved into a discussion about trust and the sacredness of one's signature. It culminated in a long painful spanking and tears.

After so many years together, discipline was not a frequent visitor in their home, but there were times when Michael needed a reminder that he couldn't control everything and everyone around him.

Now, a month later, sitting in his cousin's diner, Carl could grin and admit he was looking forward to the games.

"I'm getting old, Vincent," he sighed.

"Who's not," was the unsympathetic response.

"Not what?" Michael settled on the stool beside his partner.

"He says he's getting old," Vincent informed the younger man.

"Bullshit," Michael stated then added, “I thought we were meeting Philip and the guys for lunch.”

“I’m just trying out the new recipe,” Carl explained.

”Right. Big bowl for a taste,” Michael smirked and took a bite of Carl's stew. "Not enough pepper."

"The white man always wants spice," Vincent complained teasingly with shake of his head.

“And did you say bullshit?” Carl asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yep, bullshit," Michael countered. "You say the same thing every year when the games come around, and every year you kick ass."

"Afagua, the games are not about kicking ass, as you so eloquently put it. It's about appreciating one's heritage..."

"And the traditions of the past," Michael added. "I know all that. But you also enjoy kicking ass, especially when Ken Alquest is your competition."

"He's right. Even if he doesn't know a thing about moose stew," Vincent told Carl and moved away to greet newly seated customers.

"You should listen to your cousin," Michael advised. "He's a wise man."

"I can tell him about the few times you've been less than right," Carl assured him.

"But you wouldn't change a thing," was the response.

"Nope. I plan to keep you."

"Oh you'll definitely think that when you see this," Michael assured him and placed a receipt on the bar.

The older man looked it over and whistled. "How did you get Murphy to shave so much off the price? When I talked to him, he was adamant about the cost."

Michael wiggled his eyebrows and swallowed another spoonful of stew. "I offered him my wares."

Carl leaned towards his partner and growled, "I'm the only one who gets to see your wares, afagua."

"Oh yeah you are, afayuq," he agreed.

"So, why did he make the change?"

"He has friends coming up next month and they want to experience the real Alaska. The final frontier, with no electricity, dogsleds, living by one's wits. In an exchange for an excellent price on the building materials, I'll provide them such a tour and for an excellent price. It's the barter system at its finest," Michael explained proudly.

Carl couldn't knock his partner's resourcefulness. The younger man had an excellent head for business and negotiating. Unfortunately, he wasn't as strong when it came to scheduling and pacing himself.

"How many tours is that for next month?"

"Seven," he said.

"Plus training for December's race..."

"Which I could run in my sleep," was Michael's cocky reply.

Carl knew that was true, but he wasn't going to encourage him. "Plus rebuilding the kennel..."

"I have a foolproof daily schedule that we'll follow. It ensures that the kennel will be finished by the end of this month."

The Inupiaq decided to ignore the schedule...at least for the time being. "Helping Mercy with the addition to her house, working with the juveniles..."

"I can manage," Michael assured him.

"I know you can, but I don't want you wearing yourself out."

Michael smiled playfully and said in a husky voice, "I leave wearing me out to you."

Carl wasn't quite ready to be distracted. "And I will be wearing out a certain part of you if you don't take care of yourself. Understand, afagua?"

"Understood. I promise to take nothing else on my plate, okay?"

Carl considered the offer for a moment then nodded. "Fine, but I'll be watching to make sure you don't."

"I'm sure you will," Michael sighed and pushed the empty bowl. "Are you ready? Philip will be arriving soon. I want to take a quick shower and clean up before we meet him and the others."

As Michael headed over to bid their goodbyes to Vincent, Carl glanced down at the remains of his stew and shook his head. "Not enough pepper, my ass."

Philip saw that Dale was close to a panic attack, the sweaty pale complexion and shallow, rapid breathing. “Hold up guys. I parked my car back here. I was going to give you a ride but we can do that another time. And Jason, Dale has every right to be stressed about riding in one of these again after his last trip. It didn’t do much to instill confidence in my flying. I’m not taking it personally.”

Dale stopped his tirade for a minute, about to say he wasn’t afraid, when he realized that he wasn’t being accused of being afraid. Stressed, yes stressed is a good word. “We aren’t going up today?”

John gave Dale a hug, to give some emotional and physical support, answered quietly for Philip, “No, we’ve got reservations at a bed and breakfast for tonight and then we’re going to drive to Carl and Michael’s lodge tomorrow.”

Dale looked a little sheepish, the first look at the small airplane made him forget everything they talked about on the plane. He remembered the fear when the plane crashed into the side of the mountain and the pain of his leg breaking. Giving a nervous laugh, and shakily said, “Ok, ok, I remember, sorry about what I said.”

“Maybe you could show Jason your plane while Dale and I put the bags in the car,” John suggested, wanting some quiet time with Dale.

Jason jumped at the chance, threw his bag at his brother and said, “I’d like that.” The two couples wandered off in opposite directions.

“How did Dale handle the flight out? Has it turned into a flying phobia?” Philip asked.

“Well, it was shaky for a bit. Their doctor gave Dale a light sedative so he could fly. He was out cold for our last flight home, because he was in so much pain. They just knocked him out completely. John’s really patient with him about his fear.” They spent a few minutes talking about specifics of the new airplane. Philip was impressed with everything Jason had learned about the new plane and flying in general. He glanced up to see that John was signaling them they were ready.

“Let’s go eat lunch. There’s a diner around the corner that has a great moose stew. I thought you’d like to renew some old friendships.”

“We didn’t have a chance to meet many people. No, you don’t mean Carl and Michael? I mean Carl is cool and all that but Michael rubs me the wrong way, always knows everything, Michael can hook all the dogs up to the sled, mush the dogs, perfect Michael.” He was embarrassed about seeing them; he wasn’t sure how they thought of him. After all, he threw numerous temper tantrums that would put a 2 year old to shame, drank a bottle of alcohol that had emotional value to someone, and let’s not forget blowing up the kennel, loosing the dogs...oh, yes not a good way to start a friendship.

Philip grinned, “Perfect Michael might just be there but Carl will be too. I’m going to fly a load of supplies out to their place today. You do remember the little incident with their kennel? They roughed in a building when the weather broke after you left so the dogs could sleep outside. They want to finish it this month.”

Perfect Michael was there.

Jason swallowed and asked Michael how Kimi and the pack were doing.

"Fine, thanks." Carl answered when Michael looked utterly gob smacked. "Well, they're blowing coat, which is to be expected at this time of year, and we both feel like we're living in the middle of fur city, but other than that, great. Lonnie, the Anglo woman with the silver hair over by the bar, is after us to let her male stand stud to Kimi come spring. We're giving it thought."

"Puppies?" Philip asked, "I thought y'all had decided to wait before becoming four‑footed parents?"

"We had," Michael answered, "But Lonnie and Jenna's male finished his AKC championship at the national specialty last year and his working dog title even before that. Gorgeous lines on him. And they'd produce incredible sled dogs. We'd probably regret it if we didn't stand Kimi to him."

"But we haven't decided," Carl continued, signaling for menus, "and we probably won't for another month or so. After all," he grinned mischievously, "Unlike ‑SOME‑ people I could mention, ‑Kimi's‑ not in season for another three months or so."

Michael blushed. Bright scarlet. It was the first time either Dale or Jason had seen Michael embarrassed, and they both had to smother chuckles. Success was brought at the expense of the arrival of the brats' drinks, all three of which were hurriedly gulped.

Licking foam from his lip, Michael asked how John's work had been going lately.

"Plus ca change etc...,"(Note 1.) John replied. "Writing is like real estate. Either you're going to Europe, or you're living on beans and rice. I'm looking forward to the Games, though. Not only are they gonna be a hoot and a half, but no one, and I mean ‑no one‑ in the Guild is doing anything like them at all. What are the first events?"

"Well.... Krabloonik's favored to win the race segment, quell surprise...." Carl began a sports writer‑like précis of the upcoming events, with favored odds, backgrounds, and likely interview prospects for the lower-forty writer's benefit. John gave into the urge about five minutes into Carl's low‑volume monologue and pulled out his notepad to make sure he caught everything.

Michael took advantage of the break to indulge in a little mechanic mania. Having not seen Philip's new plane up close and personal, he asked for “all” the details.

"She's a DeHavilland Otter," Philip said, " I had the modifications done at Bedrock this time, not fly‑by‑night‑central down in Anchorage. She'll go through a blizzard for me, and land “safe” to boot." He grinned, "I've even gotten skis for her for year round touring. They're the hot‑swappable sets, too. Takes all of an hour to swap out wheels for skis, and with that kind of time lead, I've got a lot more flexibility for take offs and landings. What are y'all thinking of kitting out for out at your place?"

Michael grinned, and looked at Jason. "Don't take this the wrong way, Jason, but torching those kennels was probably the best thing anyone's ever done for us. Carl, with his typical over-protectiveness, had us insured out the wazoo on the kennel. Per cap value per dog, which came in at near 75k. With that, we've come up with this." He pulled out blueprints. "This is the long term plan for the main competition for Krabloonik in 2010. We figure it'll take us seven years to build a pack to compete with ‘em."

Jason looked at the plans, and then at Michael, and then whistled softly, pointing. "Separate whelping pens?" He asked, somewhat breathlessly, "I thought you and Carl only had the one brood bitch?"

"Just now we do," Michael, answered, "But Carl's got his eye on this tres‑snazz Kotzebue out of all places, Maine. Dam finished second as second dog on the Iditarod. You know what that is?"

Jason nodded, eager to show off what he'd learned about Philip's chosen home. "The 1,100 mile sled‑dog race between Anchorage and Nome held in late February or early March. Commemorating a run made with the vaccine against diphtheria. Second? Wow."

Michael nodded. "Most of the really good Kotzebues are out of the upper peninsula of Michigan or Canada these days. And we're going all Ciecely, too. Thinking about B&B'ing, genuine sled‑dog race experience of Alaska, that sort of thing."

Dale, wearing his Banker's Hat, nodded. "Even down turned as tourism is, you ought to get plenty of takers." He grinned just as mischievously as Michael had, eyes twinkling, "provided, that is, that you and Carl are willing to invest in some serious sound proofing. Data so far has shown that the gay market is almost immune to recessions when it comes to travel."

Jason giggled. "Fergit the unemployment, we're going to make like bunnies in springtime?"

Dale giggled back, some of his older, more carefree humor restored. "Something like that. And God knows, Krabloonik's done damn brilliant at the same thing in Snowmass. You and Carl are about 8 times smarter than they are, and are smart enough to bring in a chef that's not going to go whole hog on wild boar. Who've you got in mind?"

Carl finally finishing his conversation with John, answered, "Of all things, a woman, name of Andi Harrison. Not quite flatlander ‑‑ but she did her chef's training at the CIA."

Jason blinked. "You're hiring a spy to do your cooking?"

Michael burst into laughter at this point. "No, silly." He elbowed Jason in the ribs, just as their moose‑burgers arrived. "A graduate of the Culinary Institute of America. She's got good game ‑‑ her elk with marionberry sauce is to die for ‑‑ but nonetheless, the girl's white bread. Good thing her girlfriend's all Inuit. Nunavit family and all."

Carl made a sound like he had pneumonia and was trying to bring a gob of particularly nasty phlegm up from his lungs. Jason, Dale and John all looked at him in alarm. He repeated it. "Millaaraq Saumiq: accountant, lawyer ‑‑ and approaching this table at approximately 5 MPH, with what looks like documents in her hands. Be afraid, gentlemen. Be very afraid."

"Oh good god Carl," Michael said, rolling his eyes and then standing up as the woman approached the table. He held out his hand with a smile, "Millie, it's great to see you again."

She smiled back and shook his hand, "Michael, what a pleasure. I saw you and Carl and I wanted to say Hi. I was just running in to pick up some lunch." She waved slightly her other hand holding two file folders. "This case is finally done and I thought I'd reward myself with some food, not from the vending machine, before I walked these over to Al Luther's office."

"Please allow me to introduce you to our friends. They've just come up from the lower 48 for a combo vacation and work trip. This is John, his partner Dale and John's brother, Jason. This is their second trip up here."

Each man stood as they were introduced and shook hands, murmuring greetings before sitting back down.

Millie smiled at them, "It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm sure you're having fun catching up with your friends so I won't hold you up any longer."

"Would you like to join us?" Michael asked.

Philip nodded, "You should Mill, it's been forever since I've had a chance to see you."

She smiled but shook her head, "I'm sorry but I can't and I see my order is ready. Give me a call tomorrow Phil and we'll do lunch in a few days." Giving the pilot a wink, she added, "I'm going to put it on my calendar so you can't forget."

"Will do," he said, smiling back.

"It was a pleasure meeting you all and seeing you all," she said smiling at Carl, Michael and Philip, "again. Have a good day."

Sitting back down at the table, Michael smiled at his partner. "It would have killed you to say a few words to her?"

Carl gave him a cool smile, "It seems like you were doing enough talking for the both of us."

"She's nice," Michael said with a shrug. "She's never done anything to us and has been nothing but helpful."

"She flirts with you," the older man said pointedly.

Philip snorted, "Please Carl. Millie is just friendly and lightly flirts with everyone. She's happily married with two sons and isn't any more interested in Michael then I am."

"Hey!" Michael said in a hurt voice before laughing.

Jason laughed too, "Good, I'd hate to think I've got rivals."

"No," Philip said simply with a small wink and smile.

Thirty minutes later, the remains of lunch evident on their empty plates, John patted his stomach, "That was a great burger. I didn't realize how starving I was."

"It was great," Dale agreed, "and as much as the pie in their case looks wonderful, there's no way I can fit in a piece."

"Jason, do you maybe want to take a walk around town? Work off some of this food and I'll show you around?" Philip asked.

He nodded, "That sounds great."

"If you two don't mind," John said, looking at Carl and Michael, "I think Dale and I should go check into the B&B and get settled."

"No, not at all," Carl said. "I was just thinking a nap sounded good after that lunch."

Dale yawned slightly, "Sorry, it's not the company. A nap sounds like a good idea."

They all stood, and after a brief, friendly argument after Dale insisted on picking up the tab for lunch, they left the restaurant with plans to meet up later.

Carl and Michael looked at the four men as they left.

"What do you say afagua, ready to head home?”

Michael looked at his watch before glancing back to his lover with a guilty look that he tried very hard to conceal and then said with studied casualness, "You go on ahead. I told Bert I'd stop by this afternoon."

Carl tilted his head in inquiry.

"Umm, I told him I'd help him withaummasomething."

Michael could see Carl tracking his words and filing them into a mental slot, "Afagua, helping Bert, too? And yes, I know what you're helping him with, but that is yet another slice out of your day and you're too busy as it is."

With almost a combative air Michael defended himself, "I told you I can handle it Carl. I have a schedule and everything's going to be fine. And my schedule says I should be by Bert’s now, so I'd better go. It'll probably be a couple hours."

Carl nodded slowly and gave his partner a Look. "You're taking on too much Michael."

Though Michael, who had faced down the enemy without flinching in his former occupation, quailed inside when he saw Carl's look, he remained resolute. "It's a foolproof schedule and I won't fall behind on anything, okay, including our projects." With a final brush of his fingers along Carl's hand, Michael waved a quick goodbye and left.

Carl remained grim not at all assured by Michael's careless confidence. He made a note to himself to monitor his lover closely. Michael's enthusiasm and desire to help others often led to a lethal combination where he became overwhelmed with just trying to keep up with his obligations.

Heading to the hotel, Philip kept his companions entertained pointing out the various storefronts and giving a truncated biography of the store or its owner's history.

"And here you are, the last stop on the tour, your home away from home at least for tonight."

John looked at the pilot and his brother. "Thanks, Philip. I'm sure we'll see you before we fly up to the lodge. Tomorrow Dale and I plan to do some exploring so it'll be an early start for us." Taking charge of his suitcase and Dale, John took in the picture of his brother hovering uncertainly next to Philip. "I'll check you in Jason and take care of your bags."

When the flurry of good‑byes had given way to silence, Philip stood next to a silent Jason. They had been corresponding for three months, long chatty e‑mails, and suddenly Philip had nothing to say.

Jason twisted his fingers nervously and willed himself not to begin babbling. There was so much he wanted to say.

"Your plane's beautiful." Jason smiled uncertain about Philip's mood and said tentatively, "If you're busy for the rest of the afternoon, I can go in and work on an abstract I am submitting to JOM."

It was as if Jason's words released his paralysis, "No way. I cleared as much of my schedule as I could so I could devote time to you," Philip grinned roguishly, "and to your brother and his partner, of course, and also to Carl and Michael."

Jason lips curved into a warm smile and he lectured Philip gently. "If you devote all of your time to me, then you won't have any other time to give to anyone else. Remember I was teaching you about null sets and non‑reciprocity."

"Uh huh." Philip nodded, wisely holding Jason's arm as the young man launched into an impromptu explanation of set theory, while the two men retraced their steps to the car.

This was what their e‑mails didn't capture, Jason's voice as he spoke passionately about Mathematics and the article he planned to submit to the Journal of Mathematics. Months of e‑mails and he felt that he had not yet begun to scratch the surface of knowing this complex young man.

Blinking in surprise when their forward motion stopped, Jason stopped speaking and looked at Philip. "Where're we going?"

"Remember I told you I'd show you my favorite view of Lake Clark when you came back to visit."

"Yeah," Jason was excited, "I'd love to see it."

"Get in." Philip patted the side of his vehicle. "By the way how was your presentation to the Mathematical Society?"

Jason waited until Philip got in on the driver's side before he began to tell him about the prestigious ceremony that he'd attended the day before.

Twenty minutes later, Philip was nosing his vehicle onto a barely discernable path. Suddenly the path curved and laid out before them was a view of the town and Lake Clark.

"This is beautiful." Jason enthused and he hopped out of the car.

"Be careful Jason. There're patches of black ice and it's slick in certain places on the path. Not many people come up here, and at this elevation not all the ice has melted, so wait for me."

Walking away from the vehicle, Jason called out gaily, "Philip, I am wearing very expensive boots guaranteed to guard against spills and chills. Why don't people come up here? This view is fantastic."

"This is a partial view of the lake. If you travel a few miles down the road, there's an overlook where you can see the entire lake. Most people prefer that view. I like this spot because it's solitary and when I stand here I can almost imagine I'm flying." Philip noted that his companion had not stopped walking along the narrow path. His voice sharpened, "Jason, I told you to stop."

Wiggling his fingers in dismissal, Jason chided, "Philip, don't be such a worrywart. I'm used to‑"

Almost as if he'd scripted the accident, Philip saw Jason's feet begin to slide out from under him and mere seconds later he was sitting on the hard‑packed icy earth.

"‑ice." Jason blinked in dazed confusion.

Heart slamming in fear against his chest, Philip picked his way quickly and carefully to Jason. "Are you ok?"

"Yes. I think so." Jason moved his limbs experimentally.

"Let me help you up." Philip assisted the young man who struggled to his feet and the pilot patted his hands over the narrow hips checking for injuries. All he found was the wet seat of Jason's pants. Now that the small crisis was over, Philip was toweringly angry. "Jason, you willfully put yourself in harm's way. I told you to stop and you didn't."

"Philip, I've walked in snow and ice before." Jason defended himself.

"This is not an argument you're going to win, young man. There are so few impurities in the atmosphere that the ice freezes clear without much of a sheen and one doesn't get much warning about frozen patches. You have to know what to look for. Now, place your feet exactly where I do. When we get back to the car, I have a towel you can use to dry off and you change into other pants." Philip's voice hardened even further, "We'll also discuss your not listening to me."

Jason set his face in a mulish pout and followed the pilot. Three months of e‑mails had somehow blinded him to all of Philip's bossy faults. In fact, Jason sniffed righteously from his position behind Philip; he was beginning to wonder what he ever saw in this overbearing despot.

******

John prowled the small hotel room. Everything that could be unpacked was and Dale was currently using the shower. With innate honesty John tried to isolate what was disturbing him. He liked Carl and Michael, seeing many similarities of spirit between him and the older man. Smiling to himself he thanked his lucky stars that he was with Dale. Michael was a handful who still kept Carl hopping. John sighed. It wasn't that he was against a match between Philip and Jason, precisely. He had seen that Philip could handle his brother's outbursts three months ago. In fact, Philip seemed as if he would be a firm Top, but he didn't want Jason to get hurt when the relationship failed as long distance relationships often did once the novelty wore off.

Stepping out of the shower, Dale rubbed his hair with a soft towel. "Hey John, I recall some outrageous promises you made to get me on the plane. So far I've only been fed," he challenged from behind the closed door.

Casting aside his worry about his brother, he walked across to the bathroom and pushed the door open. "Am I hearing a note of challenge there, lover?"

Body still damp, his head and face obscured with a towel, Dale replied judiciously, "There was no challenge, man. You need to get your hearing checked. I'm simply reminding you of certain promises of sexual obligations which remain unfulfilled."

"Why you. Come here." John grabbed a conveniently crooked elbow, manhandled his partner onto the bed and followed him down.

Dale tried to maintain a serious expression but a gust of laughter spoiled it. "All I'm saying is that for a man of your advanced years you may not be able to, and I quote 'show me how to fly higher all night long.'"

John swooped in for a deep soul‑stealing kiss. Lifting his head after a satisfactory interval, he took in his partner's loving look.

"You were saying?"

"I just love to fly." Dale smiled blissfully and pulled John down for advanced 'flying' lessons.

Jason tried to keep his eyes on where Philip was placing his feet. He really didn't want to fall again but he couldn't keep his eyes from wandering up those muscular legs. He'd forgotten just how nice the view from back here was.

A low double squeak of metal as Philip opened the car door reminded him that the owner of the gorgeous butt was a bossy ass. If that man thought he was going to meekly get into the car just because he told him to then he had another think coming. Jason continued walking past the car, reached back and waved his fingers. "Thanks, but I'll walk back."

"It's miles. Get in the car."

Remembering the charity walk‑run that John made him enter while he was working on his Masters, Jason turned his head and yelled, "I've walked farther." Then he turned back around and quickened his pace.

"Maybe on nice safe, paved city streets but this isn't either. Please get in the car."

"I'm not falling for that one. It's plenty warm. There isn't a cloud in the sky so I don't need to worry about a storm and I doubt a terrorist will jump out from behind the next tree. I'll see you around town."

A couple minutes later, Jason heard the engine crank over. He carefully kept his head up, his shoulders back, and his pace quick. He wasn't going to let Philip see how much he didn't want to be deserted on this almost path in the middle of nowhere.

*****

Carl heard the dogs barking. He might not be as good as Michael with the pack but he easily recognized the "where's dinner" chorus and looked up at the clock. The fine detail work on the bracelet had demanded his entire concentration so he hadn't realized until now that he'd been at it for a full five hours. He needed to complete the commissioned piece before they left for the lodge tomorrow and had planned to work through the evening to finish it but Michael's foolproof schedule hadn't even lasted one afternoon.

Carl briefly considered calling Bert's place but he didn't want to embarrass his lover. He put away his tools and carefully set the tray holding the partially crafted bracelet on a shelf in the cabinet. Locking the studio door behind him, he grabbed his jacket and headed for the kennel. All the while thinking about the discussion on schedules, responsibilities, and consideration that he really wished he didn't need to have with his wayward lover.

*****

Jason couldn't believe that Philip was still following him. For the umpteenth time he circled his arm in the universal pass‑me sign. He didn't even know how the infuriating man could drive a car that slow.

Jason walked over to the left edge of the rough path and looked through the trees. A couple hundred yards over and maybe a hundred feet down he could see where the path looped back around. It wasn't all that steep. In fact he could see a walking path that connected the two pseudo‑roads. The short cut would save his feet some wear and tear but best of all, Philip couldn't follow him. Without a second thought and with a sly smile on his face he stepped into the trees and ignored the bellowing behind him.

Five peaceful minutes later he heard a loud crack from down and to his left. There was no way that Philip could be down there but it sounded like someone had broken a small branch. He looked over and his eyes popped wide open. A huge black bear was standing on his hind legs and sniffing the air. He opened his mouth to scream but no sound came out.

Jason was still frozen in place when he heard Philip's calm voice say, "Don't look at him. Slowly back towards me." Philip was walking steadily toward him with a large stick in his hand that was about the size of a baseball bat. About 50 feet further to his right and just a little bit higher the car idled. It was the closest the road approached his current position and was nearly the opposite direction from the bear. He felt his pounding heart race and thought to himself that wasn't such a bad idea.

He'd only taken one running stride when the back of his jacket was grabbed. "Walk. Don't run. Go to the car. Close the door and wait for me." His jacket was released with a pat of encouragement and he realized Philip was now between him and the bear.

Jason was about halfway to the car when Philip started banging his make shift club on trees and singing instructions, "Keep walking steadily and get in the car. You'll be fine. You=re almost there." The guy was crazy. There was no way the bear wouldn't realize they were here now. He should know that a stick was no match for a bear. A gun would be better. A great big gun was what they needed. Philip had been in the military. He should have had a gun. It was Philip's own fault if he got hurt.

Jason carefully opened the driver's side door and eased himself into the car. He closed the door as quietly as he could and slid across the seat to the passenger side. He looked out at Philip and noticed he was only about ten feet from the car but he'd dropped the stick and had picked up some stones. The bear was no longer standing upright. Instead he was ambling closer. Jason's pulse raced and his palms were so sweaty that they were soaked. He was in the car but Philip was still out there with the bear, with just sticks and rocks.

Then Philip started shouting and threw the stones. Jason closed his eyes. It was his fault that Philip was about to be mauled and not only wasn't he helping; he couldn't even make himself watch. The next thing he knew he heard the car door close. Philip was safe.

As Jason felt the car start rolling down the rough dirt road, he began shaking. He was perspiring heavily and couldn't catch his breath. He felt Philip's hand on the back of his head pushing it down between his knees. The next thing he noticed were soothing, circular rubs on his neck and back.

"Take slow deep breaths. You're okay. It's just the adrenalin rush wearing off. That's it."

With a quivering voice Jason said, "You saved me from a bear. I should have listened to you."

"You're right. You should have but don't worry about that now. Besides when you get right down to it, you did listen when it mattered the most."

As the car continued down the trail, Jason eventually stopped shaking and decided that he liked Philip's hand rubbing his back.

"I think I love Alaska."

John laughed, the movement rumbling Dale, who was sprawled across his chest. The curtains were drawn against the late afternoon sun, but light streamed through the cracks anyway. "Oh, really. It must be the invigorating weather and the fascinating new culture, right?" John asked.

Dale grinned and nuzzled closer. "Um sure, yeah."

"I love `Alaska,' too, then," John said, pushing Dale's damp hair off his forehead. He stretched slightly, relaxing against the softness of the pillows under his head. "Want to know what else I love?"

Dale pushed himself up on his elbows, then trailed one finger down John's side. "Maybe I can figure it out," he suggested.

"John! We're back!" Jason yelled; the vigorous stomping as he cleaned his boots by the front door echoed down the hall.

"John!" he called again. Jason started unlacing his boots impatiently, and then toed them off the rest of the way.

Philip closed the door behind them, sealing off the gust of wind threatening to follow them inside. "Jason, maybe…” he began, cut off by a wave of Jason's hand as he turned and bolted down the hall.

"Man, you're not going to believe what happened!"

He pushed the bedroom door open.

"What the!" Dale grabbed the sheet from the bottom of the bed and yanked it up. "Get out of here!"

John swung his legs modestly off the other side of the bed. "Jase, just give us a sec, okay?" he asked calmly.

"But I"

"Get OUT!" Dale's natural modesty was overwhelming his patience. Couldn't they get a moment alone?

"Dale," John said quietly. He put a hand on Dale's sheet‑covered thigh. "Jason, we'll be out in a minute. Close the door and wait outside, please."

Jason paused for a second, then turned on his heel, closing the door harder than necessary behind him.

He leaned against the jamb for a moment, breathing heavily.

"A bear!" he shouted through the door finally. "I got attacked by a bear, okay?"

With that, Jason stormed back to the kitchen, muttering to himself.

Inside the bedroom John slipped into his sweats, then turned to his partner with a quizzical glance. The expression that met his looked about as happy as the man who'd just slammed out of the room. Dale hadn't moved from the bed; clad only in a dark green bed sheet, he scowled.

"Dale," John began gently.

Dale patted the space beside him John had vacated. It was still warm. Maybe the afternoon could be salvaged. "Come back to bed. Come on, John."

Instead John crossed to Dale's side of the bed and sat down beside him. "Give me a few minutes, Dale. Why don't you get up and take a shower?"

Because I'm not ready to get up, Dale sighed to himself. Out loud he said: "John, look, Jason obviously didn't get attacked by a bear. He's in one piece, isn't he? And can't we get one minute alone?"

John took a deep breath. He knew it was important how he handled this, knew that the already somewhat sensitive Jason‑Dale dynamic had been further challenged in the last few months.

"Sit up, Dale." John waited, then put an arm around his seated lover. "We had a wonderful afternoon together," he said quietly. "A whole lot of very nice minutes alone. It's time to rejoin the group. We'll be together later, again."

Dale stared at the floor. "Jason did *not* get attacked by a bear," he muttered.

"Dale." John tightened the arm around his shoulders. "Did you hear what I said?"

Dale paused. He didn't want to spoil their afternoon. Their lovely, *private* afternoon.

Nor did he want John running to Jason's side.

He weighed his choices.

"Yes, John," Dale said tightly.

John kissed him. "Thank you. Why don't you jump in the shower, love?" he suggested. Having Dale at his side while dealing with Jason would hardly be optimal. "I'll go and see what I can do to get dinner started," he added, tactfully avoiding focusing on the main task at hand.

Dale rose slowly to his feet, still holding the sheet around him. John detached it from him gently, then kissed him again, turning him toward the bathroom. "Go on."

He's getting rid of me, Dale thought, annoyed. Jason calls, and John goes running.

"Come on out and join us when you're dressed," John said, as if reading the other man's mind. "And don't be long."

"I get mauled by a bear and all they can think about is pillow talk." Jason ignored the steaming cup of coffee Philip placed in front of him. Glaring, he propped his feet up on the chair across from him.

Philip tapped the offending feet and then settled into the chair when Jason, a little more slowly than he needed to, dropped his feet back to the floor. Philip stirred his own coffee thoughtfully.

"I'm not sure that's a completely fair statement, Jason," he said mildly.

"Yeah, well, what the hell do you know?" Jason stabbed his spoon into the sugar bowl.

"Okay, Jason." Philip took a deep breath. "That kind of remark really isn't productive; I think you know that."

Jason blushed in spite of himself, staring into the depths of his mug. No matter how much they'd spoken on the phone, on the computer, face-to-face was something else entirely.

"Whatever, sorry," Jason mumbled. "Don't freak out, Philip, it's not like we're a real couple yet," he added, anxiously.

"All I'm saying," Philip said gently, "is that if we were a `real' couple, as you call it, you'd be spitting out soapy water right about now."

Jason laughed, one quick outraged burst, then fell silent. "You're serious," he said.

"Jason," Philip leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. No matter how much they'd hashed out long‑distance, they had yet to sit down together and have this discussion. Now, conscious of where the conversation was heading and ready to take it in his direction, Philip continued in a serious, quiet tone. "Jason, we…"

"What's all this about a bear, Jase?" John strode into the kitchen, stopped behind Jason to ruffle his brother's hair. "You don't look injured to me. What happened?" He shot Philip a questioning glance.

Philip sat back in his chair, trying not to let his face visibly fall. Apparently their conversation would have to wait.

Carl worked his way through the pack, holding the first two bowls with dog food high over his head and tried not to trip over the overenthusiastic dogs, who probably would never understand that standing in the way of the two‑leg who carries the doggy food only delays the pleasure of filling their stomachs. But Carl moved with easiness around the four‑footed wiggling and bouncing obstacles. When he bent down to put the bowls on the ground he hesitated briefly, cocked his head and listened. Then, as if nothing had happened, he arranged the bowls on the ground and straightened to get the next ones from the nearby shack. The demanding barking of the dogs who refused to wait any longer for their dinner changed into a whine and yapping of welcome. Carl didn’t need to turn around to know that Michael was home. Finally. He grabbed the next bowls and left the shack again. Michael was crouching down outside and petting. As soon as Michael saw him, he straightened. He obviously had spent the last miles running home. His hair was damp and he was still panting a bit. And he was literally broadcasting bad conscience.

"Go inside, Michael, and shower and change." Carl said calmly as he passed his partner with the bowls.

Instead, Michael grabbed for the bowls. "Let me do that. I know - I am late. I’m sorry. After all, feeding the pack is my duty."

Carl quickly moved the bowls out of his reach. "It was your duty more than one hour ago,” he said with an edge in his voice. "Now, go inside and do what I told you." He added in his usual calm voice. "Let me finish with the dogs, then we will have dinner and then we’ll talk." He bent forward slightly and pressed a hard kiss on Michael’s still sweaty forehead. "Go."

Michael stood there for a moment, awkward and lost and watched Carl and the dogs. He hated this feeling of having messed up. He was late, yes, but Carl knew how tight his schedule was. He should have met him, Michael, with a bit more understanding and accommodation. After all, what was the deal with feeding the dogs? It wasn’t that Carl had an appointment this evening. He had been at home. Michael stopped in front of the door to their house. He took a deep breath and fought down the wave of defiance that swept his mind. 38-year-old men don’t get defiant, he reminded himself. They discuss the problems with their partners in a calm and mature manner. And, more important, they do anything to get the chance to revise their schedules on their own. Schedules revised by the Carl’s of this world were to avoid at all costs.

*******

"I got attacked by a bear." Jason informed his brother when he finally had his undivided attention.

"Jason, you didn’t get attacked, you only had an encounter with a curious bear who happened to get into your way. Or, truth to be told, in whose way you happened to get." Philip knew from experience that town people usually tend to exaggerate when it came to the local fauna.

John, accepting this view of the events since his brother was unharmed, asked curiously: "Really, a bear? Up at the lake? Was he fishing? He probably considered you as a rival for the fish, Jason."

"It wasn’t at the lake, we were already on our way back to the town and .." Jason got no chance to complete the sentence.

"The bear attacked the car?" John obviously couldn’t believe it.

"No," Philip answered. "They usually don’t come close to cars .."

"It was in the woods." Jason interrupted a little louder than usual to get his brother’s attention back. Something exciting happened in his life and he obviously didn’t get the chance to tell anybody.

"I was walking back home through a piece of woodland when suddenly.."

John held up a hand. "Stop, stop, stop. Why were you walking? What was with the car?"

"Nothing." Jason got frustrated. "Where was I? Oh, yes: I was walking through the."

"Did you have a breakdown with the car? Up there?" John looked at Philip. He now got seriously concerned.

"Oh, forget the car for a moment." Jason glared at his brother. "The car was totally ok and has nothing to do with this. It was not even close when the bear happened. I walked through the damn woods when suddenly a bear appeared and stood on his hind legs and growled .."

"He probably had appetite for some fresh brat." Dale said smugly as he joined the three other men.

John put his hand on Dale’s forearm to shut him up and glared at Philip. "Why was he walking through the wilderness? You know he has no outdoor experience. He should have been in the car, safe and sound."

Philip didn’t get a chance to reply to this. It took Jason two seconds to process Dale’s remark and one more to get to his feet. Planting his fists on the table he bent forward towards Dale he snarled: "I AM NO BRAT!"

Dale snorted. "Right. Tell that to someone who believes it. You're the biggest brat I've ever seen. Barging into people's rooms without knocking, making up stories just to get attention ‑ "

"I am *not* making this up!" Jason snapped. "There was a bear! It nearly attacked me!"

"And was his name Yogi? Or Boo‑Boo?"

Jason launched himself across the table at Dale, only to be grabbed firmly around the middle and hauled back down on his own side. "Hold on, Tiger," Philip's calm voice spoke in his ear.

"Let go of me!" Jason said furiously, struggling to break free of the steel‑like arm wrapped around his waist.

"Not until you calm down," Philip said coolly.

Dale had retreated to the safety of his lover's side when Jason started across the table. Seeing that Jason had been stopped, he looked up at John indignantly. "He tried to hit me!"

"You were baiting him," John said, frowning down at his partner. "You know how much he hates that."

Dale glared at him. "Me? *I* wasn't the one making up stories!"

"Jason may have been exaggerating a little, but I don't think he was making it up."

Dale gave him a look of disbelief. "You're taking his side again! You *always* do that!"

John sighed, feeling a headache coming on. "No, I don't," he said patiently. "However, we *do* owe him the courtesy of letting him finish his story. Without interruptions," he added as Dale opened his mouth. "If you don't think you can do that, then you can go back to our room and wait for me. There's a corner just waiting for you."

Dale pouted. "I'll listen. *And* keep my mouth shut."

"Thanks." John hugged him and brushed a kiss over his forehead. "I appreciate it." Dale smiled and snuggled into his side, and John turned his attention back to the other pair.

Jason had given up the struggle to get free and grudgingly admitted that it felt oddly comforting to be held like this. It was also curiously freeing to know that someone was there to keep him from giving into his worst inclinations. And it was completely unlike the way that arguments with Dale usually went when only John was there. His brother always tried to be fair and impartial to both of them ‑ that meant that either Jason or Dale ended up storming off and slamming doors. Philip wasn't trying to convince him to be fair, wasn't trying to get him to see someone else's point of view, he was just *there*. He relaxed into Philip's hold and couldn't help smiling when he felt lips brush his hair and a voice murmur, "Good boy."

John was talking to them now ‑ or rather, to Philip. "Just what was Jason doing walking through the woods? Bear‑infested woods, for that matter."

Philip hugged Jason once and then loosened his hold on Jason so he could move away if he wanted. "Hardly bear‑infested. And as far as what he was doing...well, I think that's up to Jason to answer or not. I've never been the kind to tattle on another, and I'm not going to start now." His eyes met John's squarely, not challenging him but just making sure he understood what Philip was saying.

Michael's thoughts as he showered wavered between defensive rationalization and guilty remorse.

He shouldn't have to drop everything and run home simply because an arbitrary number had been reached on the clock. What he and Bert had been working on was important and, by continuing another hour tonight, they had saved an hour or more next time. An hour or more that he could spend working on other projects, which would ultimately mean more free time with Carl. He shouldn't have to drop everything and run home simply because an arbitrary number had been reached on the clock.

But he should have taken the time to call, the guilty conscience pointed out. Carl would have understood, especially when he explained how revising his schedule would actually be a benefit. And he wouldn't have minded taking a few minutes to feed the dogs.

But how do you explain to your friends that you have to get permission to stay out past your curfew, like you're 8, not 38. "Excuse me, I have to go ask if I can stay out past my bedtime, pretty please. I'll be back in a minute, unless of course, he says no. Then you'll just have to do my share of the work along with yours. I'm sure you won't mind." Yeah, right. That *wasn't* going to happen.

You wouldn't have to tell them you're asking permission, his conscience objected. Just say that you need to give Carl a call and tell him you're going to be late. It's showing consideration for your partner and that's something most of your friends could learn to do, too.

Yeah, but‑‑

By the time he had dried off and dressed in clean sweats, the guilty remorse had won the argument. He mentally rehearsed his speech before entering the kitchen where Carl was mixing meatloaf. "I'm sorry, Carl," he said humbly to the older man. "We were making good progress and going overtime tonight means we won't have to work as long next time. That will free up a big block of my schedule later in the week, which means more quality time together. I think it was the right thing to do. And you knew where I was and what I was doing. If you were worried or wanted me to come home right away, you could have called. But‑" He raised his hand as Carl started to speak. "I was wrong not to call you and explain what I was doing and why. I was wrong not to ask you to feed the dogs for me instead of just assuming that you would take care of it. I neglected part of my responsibilities and screwed up my priorities. I apologize. Please forgive me?" He smiled hopefully, eager to be back in Carl's good graces.

"Of course I forgive you, afagua," Carl replied. "But that doesn't change the consequences, does it?"

Michael bit his lip. He knew that consequences were important and that he needed them as well as forgiveness in order to make things right again. But that didn't mean he had to like them or that it wasn't a struggle to accept them sometimes. "Lines?" he asked plaintively. He hated sitting still and writing the same phrase over and over again.

"You can do them while dinner is cooking," Carl confirmed as he put the meatloaf in a pan and set it in the oven next to the baking potatoes. "And cleaning the kitchen afterwards will give you some time to think about where you made your mistakes and how to prevent them in the future."

"But I already thought about it in the shower!" he protested. "And that'll take up the rest of the evening. I won't get to have any time with you!"

"But the consequences tonight will keep you from repeating the mistake later," Carl pointed out with the ghost of a smile. "To quote a wise man I know, "that will free up a big block of your schedule later in the week, which will mean more quality time together. I think it's the right thing to do."

"I hate it when you do that," Michael grumbled as he went to find paper and pen.

"I'm done with the kitchen," he said later that evening. "Do you want to inspect it?"

"No, I know you did a good job," Carl replied. He patted the couch next to him. "Come sit down. Maybe we can still have a little time together before bed."

Michael started over, then hesitated. "I should probably check on the dogs first," he said, anxious to have all his responsibilities out of the way first.

"Later," Carl told him. "We'll do it together, later."

John stared at Philip his jaw clenching in aggravation. They had been here less then twelve hours and already Jason was running wild. How could he have trusted Philip? Jason needed more than hugs and kisses. He needed a firm hand, which apparently Philip lacked. Instead of taking care of Jason the man let him go blithely traipsing through bear infested woods. And then instead of giving him an explanation Philip dared sit there with Jason all but in his lap and tell him that he wasn't a tattletale. It was unbelievable. All he wanted was a simple explanation, not Jason's dramatics. Well it just proved beyond a doubt that this trip was a mistake. Philip and Jason friendship was a mistake. Jason was going to get hurt and it would be his fault for not looking out for him.

"John?" The touch of Dale's hand on his arm and the tremor in his lover's voice broke into John's dark thoughts.

Reluctantly breaking Philip's gaze John glanced down at the young man cuddled beside him. Dale's face was pale with tension and his soft brown eyes were full of questions.

Dale tugged lightly on John's sleeve and leaned up to whisper in his ear. "Are you okay? You're not going to hit Philip or anything are you?"

Startled at Dale's question John glanced over at Philip who was still holding Jason but instead of calm and open, now looked as tense as Dale. The only one unaffected by the incident was Jason who was looking adoringly up at Philip like a lovesick calf. Lovesick, yes that described his Jason. John had seen his brother give similar looks to his other boyfriends. And that was what Philip was. He was Jason's boyfriend, not his lover, and definitely not his Top. John felt himself blush at his presumptuousness. He had no business expecting Philip to answer for Jason's waywardness.

Giving Dale a reassuring squeeze John sighed. "Sorry Philip." John smiled apologetically at the other man. "You're right. Jason should explain why he was walking in bear‑infested woods. Right Jase? Jason?"

Philip gave Jason a bit of a shake. "Your brother asked you a question." Philip prompted gently.

"What did you want to know?" Jason questioned confused.

"Why were you walking instead riding in the car with Philip?" John questioned patiently.

"Oh yeah the bear." Jason grinned. "It was huge! You should have seen it! It must have been eight or nine feet." Jason stood up and waved his arms towards the ceiling trying to estimate height of the monster.

"Jason!" John's voice stopped Jason in mid‑estimate. "Why were you walking instead riding in the car with Philip?" John repeated the fundamental question yet again.

"Why?" Jason repeated realizing that the bear was not the center of the story.

"Yes. Why?" John pressed.

"Well, umm. It doesn't really matter does it? I mean it happened and," he broke off as he saw John's lips tighten in annoyance. "I" he started and then stopped again. John looked expectant, Dale looked smug, and he suddenly didn't dare look at Philip. The childishness of his earlier behavior hit him and he paled. He couldn't tell John why. It would make it worse. He really liked Philip. If he admitted that he thought Philip was bossy Philip would be insulted and then he would leave. And Jason definitely didn't want him to leave. It just wasn't fair!

"You're just trying to make me look bad!" Jason snapped. "I almost got eaten by a huge bear and all you care about is embarrassing me! I hate you!" Jason abruptly stormed out of the kitchen.

Dale's eyes cut guiltily toward John.

My fault, Dale thought. I knew Jason was upset. But I had to push him, didn't I? I just had to have the last word. Jeez, I'm a bastard sometimes.

Philip kept his eyes fixed on this mug of coffee, staring into it as if it contained the answer to the riddle of the universe.

"Excuse me a few minutes." John broke the silence, his usually relaxed voice tight, and followed Jason.

Philip and Dale sat awkwardly, avoiding each other's eyes.

"I mean, this bear thing, it's a little too‑‑" Dale heard the defensive note in his own voice and trailed off. "I mean, a bear?"

Philip grasped at the slight conversational straw like a drowning man at a life preserver.

"We have them up here. No matter how much effort the park service puts into its public information campaigns, people are careless and lazy. They leave food around their campsites and the bears come after it. Once bears lose their fear of humans, they're a problem."

"Yeah, I've read about that. So there really was a bear?"

"And how," Philip said. "I've dealt with them before, but it was still a trip. And for Jason."

"Yeah," Dale said. "I can imagine." He sighed. "He's not going to like the back country any better after this."

"You and John do much hiking and stuff?" asked Philip curiously.

"John did when he was younger, Scouts, camp, stuff like that. I never really got into it, but I think I might like to," Dale replied.

"I'd be glad to show you two some of the good trails," Philip said. "Michael's actually your best bet, there isn't a trail he doesn't know, but I'm not bad, either."

"Thank you, we'd like that. I'll talk to John about it," Dale said.

Some of the tension had dissipated. Dale refilled his coffee cup, topped off Philip's. The two men lapsed into a now‑companionable silence.

John had trailed Jason to his room. He tapped on the closed door.

"Leave me alone!"

With the easy familiarity of brothers, John ignored Jason's protest and let himself in.

Jason was gathering his books and slamming his suitcase with reckless abandon.

"Jason, slow down," John said. "You're overreacting."

"Leave me alone, John. I'm going home. This was a mistake. I'm leaving and you can't stop me."

"Uh huh," John said, a hint of a smile ghosting over his face.

"What, you don't believe me!" Jason glared at John.

"Jason, Jason, take a few deep breaths," John said quietly. "Sit down. You're working yourself up and it's not helping anything."

"Okay, okay." Jason's furious energy was burning out, leaving a sad and sheepish man in its wake. He slumped down on the bed, legs splayed, head in his hands. "I made a fucking asshole of myself. Shit."

"Language," John said reflexively. He moved the suitcase to the floor, lending Jason his comforting, steadying presence.

"I made an asshole of myself," Jason said mournfully. "Philip probably hates me."

"Not as much as you hate yourself right now." John shook his head. "Jason, you've got to get a grip."

"I can't, John!" Jason raised his eyes to his brother's. "I try John, I really try. I can't do it. I'm not normal, John, I swear there's something wrong with me."

"There's nothing wrong with you, Jason," John said. This was an old conversation. "You can do better, you have done better, and you will do better. Beating yourself up for being who you are is a waste of time."

"But what should I do?" Jason asked plaintively.

John sighed inwardly. Jason needs more than I'm giving him, he thought to himself. He needs someone who's all his. Someone more than a brother.

"Wash your face. Comb your hair. We're going back out there." John's voice left no room for debate.

Gratefully, Jason followed John's instructions.

His tense shoulders the only sign of his discomfort, Jason reentered the kitchen, John at his back.

"Hey," said Philip.

"You want fresh coffee?" asked Dale, not meeting Jason's eyes.

"That'd be good," Jason mumbled.

Philip's cell shrilled.

"Yes. O'Malley's? I don't know, hold on a sec?" Philip looked at the three men in the kitchen. "It's a friend of mine. He just got to town and is over at the bar having dinner. You want to join him?"

Dale looked at John; read his slight head shake correctly.

"No, I think John and I will stay here," Dale said.

"Jason?" Philip asked.

Jason looked from Philip to John.

"Go on, you'll enjoy it," John said encouragingly.

"All right. Yeah. That sounds good. Let me change my shirt." Jason sprinted down the hall.

"Thanks," Philip said to John.

Jason reappeared, looking good, and the two men took off.

"How about some of that coffee, John?" Dale asked.

"I've had enough, thank you. And so have you. We need to talk, Dale."

"Yeah." Dale's shoulders slumped dejectedly. "I'm sorry, John. I didn't mean to set him off. He just gets to me."

"It isn't fair, Dale. You know he's vulnerable, you can't push him like that. I expect better of you."

"I know," Dale looked at John apprehensively.

"We talked about this," John said.

"I know."

"All right then. Let's close up the kitchen and take care of this while we've got some privacy," John said, clearing the cups from the table.

"We don’t have to do this, John. I'll remember next time. He pushed me too, John, it wasn't all one-way," Dale fretted.

"We talked about this. We both agreed this was something you needed to work on," John said implacably, steering Dale to their bedroom with a gentle hand at the small of his back.

"But I don't want you to spank me," Dale said unhappily. "John. Listen to me. I won't bug him again. Give me a break, come on, I don't want to do this."

"But it's not your decision, is it?" John asked gently. "We talked about this, we agreed that you'd stop teasing him, and that if you didn't stop, I would spank you. Come on, let's get this over with."

With exaggerated slowness, Dale stepped out of his jeans and underwear, his expressive face showing how unhappy he was. Settled himself uncomfortably over John's lap.

John rubbed Dale's back reassuringly and then, taking a deep breath, brought his hand down firmly.

It was over quickly. John cuddled his sobbing lover close.

"I love you, Dale." John rubbed Dale's back in reassuring circles. "I love you so much."

After a pleasant couple of hours at O'Malley's, Philip suggested that he and Jason go for a walk. Jason agreed enthusiastically, looking forward to an opportunity to spend some time alone with Philip.

Both men were wrapped up warmly against the chill of the night air. They meandered along the sidewalk slowly, bumping shoulders as they walked, chatting about nothing much.

'This is nice,’ Jason thought to himself, sneaking a sideways peek at Philip's profile. Despite the earlier hiccups, he really enjoyed Philip's company and was enjoying getting to know the pilot better.

Philip eventually stopped next to a store on the edge of town, resting against the wall. "Do you like stargazing?" he asked Jason softly, smiling at the mathematician.

"Huh?" Jason looked up in surprise, he'd been lost in contemplation of Philip's body and missed the question.

"Astronomy," Philip said patiently, his smile deepening. He knew exactly what Jason had been looking at and had enjoyed the scrutiny.

"Oh, yeah," Jason replied. "I know all the constellations." There was a slightly boastful note to his voice as he said this.

Philip raised an eyebrow, but didn't otherwise respond. Jason took his arm and pointed to the sky, immediately starting to name constellations. Philip watched him closely, impressed by the younger man's knowledge. He did, indeed, know all the constellations.

"You talk too much," he suddenly cut across Jason's lecture on the history of some star or other.

Jason looked at him with wide‑eyed surprise mouth slightly parted. Philip groaned. He couldn't resist, and, leaning slowly forward, he brought their mouths into gentle contact. Although he had given Jason plenty of time and opportunity to retreat, Jason refused the invitation, instead he closed his eyes and leaned forward into the kiss.

Seconds later, the sound of people leaving a bar disturbed the quiet evening and the two men jerked apart, startled.

Philip chuckled ruefully. "I'd better get you back before John sends out a search party."

"Phillliip," Jason whined, pouting.

"No, come on Jason, let's go, it's getting late and we've both got an early start tomorrow."

Jason sighed dramatically and gave in. "Oh all right," he muttered. "But you're not off the hook here." Turning back towards the B & B where they were staying, he started to stomp off.

"Jason, hold on," Philip hurried to catch him up. He put a hand on the other man's shoulder. "I'm sorry, okay, I didn't want to stop either, but this isn't the time or the place for anything to develop."

Jason shrugged off the hand. "Whatever," he mumbled, not slowing his pace.

Philip sighed. Hadn't he known this wouldn't be easy? He continued to stride alongside the mathematician, determined to see him back to his brother safely, whether Jason wanted him to or not.

"Not a bad day's work, huh girl?"

Kimi barked in agreement.

By eight a.m., Michael had arrived at the lodge and begun work on the kennel. Now, nearly eight hours later, he stood back and took in the project. The frame of the kennel was up and the floor almost complete.

Of course, he couldn't take all the credit. Carl's nephews, Simon and Thomas, were very eager to help. The two teenagers were hard workers and well‑schooled in construction, so Michael could let the boys loose without much worry.

Unfortunately, he'd lost his two assistants two hours ago so they could get back to town and pack for a class trip to Anchorage.

Well, additional help would be arriving soon. He knew Carl and Philip were good to go. The previous day, Jason had mentioned that he had taken classes in architecture and drafting. Michael wasn't sure how much experience John and Dale had under their belts though.

Oh well, he could always find a job for them to do.

Kimi's bark brought his attention to the pick‑up truck making its way towards the lodge.

There they were, Carl and their guests and only an hour late.

As Carl stepped out of the truck, Kimi began yipping and jumping about like a puppy, something she would never do if the other dogs were around to see her. Michael couldn't blame her. He often found himself wanting to yip and jump when Carl was around. However, just like Kimi, he suppressed the urge in front of others.

"I was expecting you an hour ago," Michael said and made his way over to the truck.

"We ran into Aunt Freida," Carl told him.

"Ah."

Carl's Aunt Freida was a feisty eighty years young who flirted with all the men in town, especially the young handsome ones.

"She's a sweetheart," John said.

"You can say that because you've never seen her angry," Michael told him.

"Carl mentioned that she took on the oil company."

"And won," Philip added and whistled. "You've done a hell of job on the kennel, Michael."

"Thanks to Tom and Simon."

"We saw them in town," the pilot told him. "They looked beat."

"They worked hard. Unfortunately, I'm not where I should be. I wanted to have the floor completed by now."

"It looks pretty much done," Dale said.

"Pretty much isn't good enough," Michael stated.

Carl smiled and shook his head. "Michael is on a schedule, and neither hell nor high water will drive him from it."

"Only overbearing partners," Michael laughed and headed towards the lodge. "Come on in and get settled. Are you hungry? I have some stew simmering."

While Carl showed their guests to their rooms, Michael checked on the stew and took bowls from the cabinet.

"I'm sorry I wasn't able to come with you this morning," Carl said as he entered the kitchen.

"No problem. Kimi, Simon, Thomas, and I had a leisurely trip. Did you get the Coleman piece sent off?"

Carl had been working on a bracelet for an Anchorage client. He and his wife were celebrating their 40th wedding anniversary.

"Yes, and I picked up the mail."

"Anything important?"

Carl handed him a letter. "From you mother."

Michael never even glanced at the envelope; he merely shoved it into his back pocket. "I'll read it later."

Carl didn't answer with words. Instead, he leaned over and kissed the younger man. "I've been wanting to do that all day."

"Was it worth the wait?"

"Always, but I have to admit you could use a shower."

"I thought you liked my manly scent."

"There's a difference between a manly scent and a reeking man," he admitted.

"Fine, I can take a hint," Michael replied. "Work hard all day and what do I get in return? Insults."

Smiling, Carl watched his muttering partner disappear down the hallway. The smile disappeared as he thought of the letter. Michael's mother meant no harm, but her letters too often left his partner feeling raw and lost. At least they were at the lodge. This was Michael's favorite place. He found the solitude and openness a haven from the world.

"Do you need any help?" Jason asked.

However, they did not have the same level of solitude as they usually did.

"You can get some drinks from the fridge," Carl said as Philip, Dale, and John returned to the living room.

"Where's Michael?" Philip asked. "He didn't decide to finish the floor, did he?"

"No. He's showering."

"What would you like to drink, Philip? Beer, soda, ice tea, water?" Jason asked as he scanned the refrigerator's contents and grabbed a beer for himself.

"Beer's good."

"I'll take a beer," Dale told him.

"Not while you're still on medication," John stated.

"An antihistamine is not a real medication," Dale informed him.

"Oh really? Since when?" John countered.

"The FDA just announced the finding," Jason smirked. "Same time as they announced toad licking cures the common cold."

"Toad licking? That's disgusting!" Dale grimaced.

"It's a southern tradition."

"Really?" Philip inquired curiously. "I grew up in Florida which is, contrary to popular belief, a part of the south, and we never licked toads...the occasional gators, but no toads."

In the midst of the banter, Dale retrieved a beer from the refrigerator, only to turn and face his stern‑faced Top. With a deep‑felt, slightly over‑the‑top sigh, the younger man returned the beer to the fridge and opted for a soda.

With drinks and bowls of stew in hand, the men settled at the kitchen table. They were midway through the meal and discussing the local fishing when Michael returned. The ex‑Delta was dressed in jeans, flannel, and moccasins and towel drying his hair. Silently, he took a beer from the refrigerator, opened it, and took a long swallow.

Philip smiled. It was such a joy to be with Jason. He never knew what his lover would be passionate about next. Traversing the final steps to the door, he brushed his windblown cheek against Jason's temple and answered his lover firmly, "Jase, I think the math department would be out of their minds if they don't snap you up even with your checkered past."

"I don't have a checkered past," Jason stated indignantly.

Taking in Philip's wide grin, Jason groused at a lower volume, "You're making fun of me."

"Yes. Why yes I am," was Philip's teasing response.

"Oh!" Jason returned intelligently. He wasn't used to having a lover who responded so calmly to his fits.

Nudging the young man out of his way, Philip passed him and put the pizza boxes on the table then walked back to Jason who was staring at him. Tugging him further into the room and out of the way of the two other men, Philip hugged Jason, "Hello, babe. Why do you believe UAA won't have you?"

"UhhmYthis." Jason extricated one hand from the encompassing embrace and waved the envelope in front of Philip. "Everyone knows that a thin letter is a rejection. I don't understand why they would reject me," he wailed plaintively.

"Say hello to your brother and Dale, Jase."

"Hello," Jason said distractedly but did not turn to greet the couple.

"Hi Jason," John said evenly, "Don't wait dinner for us, Dale and I will be in our room. We'll get something later."

Dale's greeting was more subdued and the men's footsteps retreated down the hallway to their bedroom.

Plucking the envelope from Jason's fingers, Philip sealed his lips to Jason 's and shared a satisfying kiss.

"bled as soon as he surfaced for air and coherent thought returned.

Philip marveled at how sensitive and more mature Jason was now than when he first met him. The old Jason would have stormed off behind his brother to find out what was going on.

"I don't know, but they'll sort it out."

"Hmmm, I'm sure Dale did something wrong. He's alw

class=Section61>

ays quiet when he does something stupid. John's going to spank him isn't he?"

"Jason," Philip stated firmly, "we don't know." Searching for a way to distract his lover, he used the edge of the envelope to tickle Jason's nose.

"You won't spank me all the time will you? I mean that's if we agree to make discipline a part of our relationship?" Jason questioned.

"Jason, this is not the time to discuss the parameters of our relationship. It's too important to fit it into the 15 or so minutes before Carl and Michael arrive. Further I won't be drawn into a conversation about the similarities between your brother and us. Now let's find out what this letter says," Philip cajoled.

Unwilling to let go of the topic but realizing that Philip's tone was firm, Jason backed off. He knew they had to discuss discipline and its possible introduction into their relationship. But somehow in the last couple of days he had managed to sidestep the issue.

Philip had allowed him space and he had been reluctant to disturb the status quo. Talking about John and Dale's relationship was a way of discussing theirs but not. However, Philip wasn't having any of that.

Shrugging and a touch displeased, Jason pouted, "It's a rejection, I told you. Single page equals rejection."

"I believe we should open it, just to verify your facts," Philip teased.

"OK, open it. I was waiting for you, anyway."

Jason closed his eyes and waited for the bad news. The minutes ticked away silently and still Philip said nothing.

Eyes blinking open, Jason demanded, "WhatYwhat did it say?"

"You have a full panel interview with the faculty, dean and president of the university next week and you have to give a forty-five minute lecture on your current research." Philip grinned broadly and hugged his lover again.

"What?"

"They liked your CV and all your references spoke highly of you, so," Philip perused the letter again, "they want to meet you at your earliest convenience."

Jason's eyes rounded. Leaning forward he kissed Philip thoroughly and then spun away, picked up a pizza box and headed out of the kitchen.

"Jason?"

"Forget Bogey and Bacall. I've to prepar

class=Section62>

e for a lecture and I don't have all of my notes andY." Jason lapsed into mumbling as he made him way quickly down the hall to his room.

Grabbing napkins and a beer from the fridge, Philip followed his lover down the hall with a light heart.

Philip stood in the doorway to Jason's room and watched his lover's tongue sneak out to lick the pizza sauce off his upper lip.

Jason was sitting on the queen bed with his back against the wall. His right knee was bent and he was staring at the notebook, which was balanced precariously on it. He reached blindly into the open pizza box with his left hand while continuing to rifle through his notes with his right.

Philip shook himself from his revelry and quick stepped to Jase, reaching out with a napkin, just in time to prevent sauce from dripping onto the comforter. Jason looked up as he felt his hand redirected away from his mouth, back toward the pizza box. Philip couldn't resist the sauce beckoning from the corner of Jason's mouth, leaned forward to lick it and met Jason's tongue reaching for the same blob. As any good military strategist would, he followed his target to its warm, moist, delicious home. He sat on the edge of the bed and felt the notebook slide into his side.

Jason leaned back and away, picked up his notebook, shook it, and said, "I don't know why I'm even looking in this. I know they aren't there."

"What's not there?" At the scowl from Jason, Philip tilted his head slightly and asked, "The notes you need for the lecture?@

Jason glared at him and began making 'well duh' noises, as they heard a swat, quickly followed by a yelp through the wall. Jason jerked forward startled, and then leaned back directly against the connecting wall.

Deciding distraction was the order of the day, Philip asked, "Do you have an assistant that could send you the notes you need?"

"It's summer."

"Yes, it is, but your school isn't closed."

Jason said louder, "I'm on vacation."

Philip pointedly looked at the text on the desk an

class=Section63>

d said, "But you're also working. Isn't there anyone you could ask to send you the notes?"

The look plastered on Jason's face had to be the one he reserved for particularly dense students, and with frustration in his voice said, "My office is closed, locked for the summer because I'm not there. I'm in Alaska, on Vay-Ca-Tion."

"Calm down. There's no reason to talk to me like that. I obviously know you're not there. That you're here, with me, in Alaska. I was asking if you had a friend that could get the notes for you. Maybe the guy whose text you're proof-reading."

"He's a colleague." Once again they heard a loud swat through the wall but this time it was clearly followed by a firm "Enough" in John's firm voice. "What do you think Dale did?"

"That's between John and Dale. They'll work it out."

"John's obviously spanking Dale. Will you spank me, a lot? I mean when we're together."

"Remember, I told you that we weren't going to discuss our partnership while you were concentrating more on your brother and Dale, than us. Come on. Get up and grab the pizza box. We're going back to the kitchen table."

Jason reached for his notebook, and said, "I'll stay in here. I need to work on my lecture. You can go to the kitchen if you want."

"You just finished telling me that you don't have the notes you need. Good try, but you're not going to sit in here and eaves drop." Philip saw the guilty little boy look peering out from under Jason's lashes and reached out his hand.

On the way out to the kitchen, Philip flashed to the first time he had seen Jason surrounded by math notes. It was after the crash, at the same kitchen table, when he was feeling guilty for the fire blowing up the snowmobiles, and tried to calculate the time required to dogsled to civilization for help. Those thoughts reminded him of the lecture that brought Jason to Alaska the first time. "What about the lecture you gave in Anchorage last spring? Couldn't you get a copy of the handouts from the hosts?"

A Jason sized bundle jumped into his arms. "Yes." Kiss. "That's brilliant." Breathe stealing kiss. "Absolutely brilliant! Thank you." Soul searing kiss followed by a drop to what should be hard floor.

"They have my proofs and theories. In fact, I can pretty much do the same lecture." Philip felt himself pushed supine onto the floor with a wildcat on top of him trying to suck his tonsils out. He briefly thought about how right everything seemed in his world then lost the ability to think about anything but the beautiful body squirming all over him.

A clearing of a throat brought Philip back to awa

class=Section64>

reness of his surroundings. He opened his eyes and looked over Jason's head to see Carl grinning down at him.

"Don't you think you two should take that elsewhere?" Carl asked. "We *do* have a lot of empty rooms here."

Jason groaned and turned bright red, burying his face against Philip's shoulder. Philip gave Carl an admonishing look.

"Hey, don't look at me like that," Carl said. "Just be glad I came in first, instead of Michael."

"Believe me, I am." Philip gently shifted Jason off of him, stood up, and gave Jason a hand up. "Where is he, by the way?"

"Putting up the team." Carl investigated the pizza box, taking a slice.

Philip gently pushed the still red-faced Jason towards a chair, then went into the kitchen to fetch drinks. "How did it go?"

"Really well. I think the team will make a good showing." He glanced at the envelope from UAA still lying on the table and said, "You got your letter, Jason? What did it say?"

Shrugging nonchalantly, Jason said, "I've got an interview with the faculty next week."

Carl beamed at him. "Well done! I knew they'd be impressed with you."

Jason flushed, pleased by the older man's words. "Yeah, well, I've got to make a presentation to them first, so we'll see what they think after that."

"I'm sure they'll *still* be impressed. You're a sharp young man, Jason. You've already helped us considerably here by taking over the bookkeeping."

Jason shrugged. "Just paying for my keep."

The kitchen door flew open and Michael came in, nearly bouncing with excitement. "The team did *great* today, Philip? Did Carl tell you?"

Philip smiled and handed him a beer. "Yes, he did."

"They were in-fucking-credible!" Michael said, his eyes shining.

"Language, Michael," Carl reminded him.

Michael ignored him, reaching for the pizza box an

class=Section65>

d snagging a piece with each hand. "I really think we've got a chance to win this year. There's really only one other team to watch out for mrfmfg - " The rest of his words were indistinguishable around the large mouthful of pizza.

"Michael!" Carl said reprovingly, pointing at a chair. "Sit down and at least pretend to eat like a civilized human being." Michael made a face but obediently sat down, placing one of his slices of pizza on the plate Philip set before him and grabbing another from the box as well. "And save some for the rest of us."

"I've already had mine," Jason said.

"So have I," Philip said. "John said they'd grab something later on."

"Speaking of which," Michael said, washing down his bite with beer, "where are they?"

"In their room."

"Yeah," Jason chimed in. "I don't know what Dale did, but it must have been *something* big, the way John looked."

Michael perked up. "Any idea what?"

"No, and it's none of our business," Philip said firmly. "How about a salad to round off that pizza?"

"Sounds good," Carl agreed getting up. As Michael rolled his eyes, Carl lightly cuffed his head. "Don't give me that. You need something to balance out all that bread and grease."

Carl headed over to the cabinets to get out a salad colander. Michael looked over to make sure that both of the tops were occupied, then leaned across the table toward Jason.

"So, what do *you* think Dale did?" he asked in a low voice.

Jason shrugged. "Don't know. Heard John smack him and say 'Enough', but Philip made me come back in here."

The two brats turned their heads and looked speculatively down the hallway.

Dale and John fell onto the bed together, their eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Oh, please!" Dale wailed pitifully.

Wham! John hit the pillow a sound blow with his hand.

Dale smothered his giggles in the pillow.

"No mor

class=Section66>

e!" he choked out, hoping Jason and Philip would attribute his breathlessness to sobs and not laughter.

"All right, that's enough, love," John whispered quietly into his Dale's ear. "I think you've convinced them. Oscar, Oscar."

In response, Dale let out an ear-piercing shriek that was so over the top that John swatted him for real.

"Hey!"

"Remind me again why we're doing thisY"

Dale closed his eye and obliged, speaking to the ceiling as he traced one hand over his partner's chest. "Because Jason's been really uptight about being on display or something if he gets together with Philip. And because my sainted partner said that it can be hard to reason with Jason when he gets like that." Here Dale paused his recitation for a snicker, which was rewarded with a poke in his ribs.

"And because sometimes the best way to convince Jason of something is to play with him. Like when you were kids and he thought you'd ignore him once you started high school and he hadn't yet, so you arranged for-"

"Got it," John said, cutting him off hastily. "You're good, Dale." He shook his head. "You are really, really good."

Dale grinned like a cat.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Philip pushed a stalk of endive around his plate. It wasn't that he disapproved. He was justYconfused. In the five years of his friendship with Carl and Michael, Philip had never known them to be thisYindiscreet. You would almost think...

"They're faking!" Philip said out loud, starting to laugh.

"What?" Jason gaped at him.

"Your brother and Dale...Jason, they're playing us. I'm sure of it. Just think, in all the time you've known them, have you EVER overheard a `discipline session' before?"

"No way. It'sY" Jason shut his mouth, emotions war

class=Section67>

ring. He hated being played for the fool. But he didn't much like picturing what was going on behind that door, either. He shuddered slightly. Too much information. "Oh my god." He looked up at the other two men for confirmation.

Carl just smiled benevolently at the group. "You're right, Philip. As to the what, at any rate. The why is your mystery to unravel, I think."

"What? What is this, some kind of initiation? That's sick." Jason glared.

"Maybe if you didn't eavesdrop, it wouldn't have become an issue! Peeping Tom," Michael added.

"Peeping Toms peep, Michael. They don't listen," Jason pointed anyway. "Whatever. Gross. You knew too?"

Michael popped a grape tomato into his mouth and grinned. "I'm sorry, Jason. It was just too easy."

Jason scowled and pushed his plate away, a gesture that might have been more effective had he not already eaten all the salad and soaked up the extra vinaigrette with some hastily heated bread. He tried to look annoyed, but relief kept pushing his lips away from half-mast. "If my students are this good at tricking me, I'm in trouble."

"You can take them," Philip assured Jason with a smile, standing up to clear the plates.

Jason nodded, no longer really interested in pushing the issue, for some reason. "I'll help Philip clean up. Why don't you two hit the showers?" he suggested.

"Are you saying we smell?" Michael asked good-naturedly.

"I'm not saying anything," Jason said innocently. He grinned a little awkwardly at Michael, assuring him the air was cleared. "But the leftover lettuce DID just wilt, soY"

Carl slung an arm around Michael's shoulder, laughing. "Thanks, you two," he said, leading his partner out of the kitchen and down the hall.

You two. Jason found himself repeating the words softly. The sound of thatY

He caught Philip's eye. The older man was looking at him with something warm in his expression as he hefted the large salad bowl off the table and filled it with hot, soapy water.

"You handled that really well," Philip said quietly.

Jason gave him a quick smile in return, waiting until Philip had turned his back to beam. Letting things go. It was an interesting feeling. Revenge was sweet, maybe. But clearing up with PhilipY

Washing the dishes togetherYmaybe a little alone time by the sink?

Nothing sounded sweeter.

Jason was

class=Section68>

seated at the kitchen table when John and Dale appeared for breakfast the next morning.

"Good morning, Jason. Isn't it a beautiful morning?" Dale asked cheerfully as he opened the refrigerator and pulled out the orange juice. He filled the two glasses John handed to him and paused on the way back to the refrigerator. "Jason? You in there?" He teasingly waved a hand in front of the unresponsive man's face.

"Leave me alone!" Jason snarled, nearly knocking his chair over as he angrily shoved himself back from the table and stood up. "Haven't you done enough already? Making me look like a fool in front of our friends? Supposed friends," he added bitterly.

"Jason! That's not--"

"Yeah, right! You just couldn't miss an opportunity to show me up, could you? Couldn't wait for a chance to make me feel like an idiot. God, I was concerned for you and it was all just a big practical joke!"

Dale looked at John in alarm. This wasn't the way it was supposed to turn out. They'd known that Jason would be upset at first, but they'd never expected him to be this angry. What had they done?

"Jason--"

"Jason, calm down and let's talk about this, please," John began in his best older brother tone, but Jason's strident tone easily overrode his.

"Just shut up! Don't start some pious crap about how you did it for my own good. You enjoyed every minute of it!"

"But I didn't! John, make him listen!" Dale appealed to his lover. "Tell him it was supposed to be like when you were kids and he thought you'd ignore him once you started high school and he hadn't yet, so you arranged forC"

"Got'cha!" Jason announced triumphantly, a broad grin splitting his face.

"I--You-- That was all an ACT?" Dale's voice rose along with his level of indignation.

"Just like yours," Jason confirmed smugly, dodging behind the table as Dale advanced on him.

"We didn't mean to make you mad," Dale repeated la

class=Section69>

ter. John had been called away by a phone call from his editor, and they were making a late breakfast while they waited for him to return. "We know you're concerned about having everyone know about the discipline and I thought it would help make you realize that nobody does. Did you even suspect about John and me before last spring?"

"Not at all," Jason assured him as he cracked eggs into a bowl. "If anything, I would have suspected bdsm, but I didn't even think about that. And I guess if I'd been thinking, I would have realized that Philip would keep it private, too. I just..."

"I know, " Dale replied sympathetically as he took the bowl from Jason and began beating the eggs. "It's hard, even when you know it's what you want and need. And to feel like everyone is staring at you or speculating any time you have a fight makes it even harder. But Philip would never do anything to belittle you or hurt your pride, anymore than John would do it to me. He loves you."

"And I love him," Jason admitted. Taking the bowl back, he poured the mixture into the waiting skillet.

"But..."

"But so much has happened in the past few months and life will be so different in the future, and I hate change. It's why I like math. It's logical and consistent, and you always know when you have the right answer. You don't have to second-guess yourself."

"So what are you going to do?" Dale questioned.

Jason stirred the eggs for a moment. "I'm going to stay." He stated simply. "I love him too much not too."

"I'm glad." Dale reached over and impulsively hugged Jason's arm. "I'm really glad."

"You just want John all to your self." Jason chuckled. "However, now that I have Philip I think I understand."

"If Philip is a tenth of the guy John is you will never leave." Dale counseled.

"Ewww Dale!" Jason groaned horrified. "That is definitely not something I want to think about B especially before breakfast."

Dale frowned and then laughed. "Shit I didn't mean it that way!" He gave Jason a playful shove causing the other man to slop egg on the stove.

"Hey watch it." Jason griped good-naturedly. Jostling Dale back with his elbow.

"You have a dirty mind Jase." Dale teased pushing back again.

"Not me." Jason denied laughing.

"Dale! Jason! No fighting around a hot stove." John's sharp voice interrupted Dale's retort.

"We're not fighting." Jason denied. "Are we Dale?"

"Nah we're just cooking." Dale agreed.

"It looked like fighting to me." John reprimanded with a frown. "A hot stove is dangerous."

"Dale take him back to bed." Jason ordered waving his spatula imperiously "and make sure this time he wakes up on the right side."

"Mmmmm yeah." Dale licked his lips and smiled at John wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"Good Lord." John moaned. He had always wanted his brother and partner to get along but this was surreal.

"Don't worry John." Dale commiserated as he reached for the coffee pot. "We promise to get into a screaming fit after breakfast. Sit down and have some coffee." He handed John the coffee and directed him to a chair. "You can supervise."

"Yeah bossy is your middle name." Jason agreed with another laugh.

"Just don't burn my breakfast." John ordered gruffly.

"We won't." Dale leaned down and brushed a light kiss on John's lips. "How about some cinnamon toast?" He asked as he moved to the counter and started to slice bread.

John opened his mouth and then shut it. Sometimes it was just easier to go with the flow.

Jason and Dale chuckled.

Carl and Michael had eaten an early breakfast so it was only the three of them. John was amazed that they managed to cook, eat, and clean up without one cross word.

"So what did your editor have to say?" Dale asked as he stored away the last dish.

"Nothing good." John sighed. "There has been a mix up with the series I did for Earth News. Someone decided it was too long and edited it removing half the text and pictures. By the time Michelle found out it was totally mutilated."

"Didn't they have a backup?" Dale demanded.

"They should have." John shook his head amazed. "I

class=Section70>

can't believe they deleted it before the series ran. The only copy I have is sitting on my computer at home. I'm going to have to go home immediately and pull my copy and send it to Michelle. They are preparing to go to press and need it now."

"So how soon do you have to leave?" Jason asked suddenly nervous.

"I'd like to see if we can catch a flight out tomorrow." John explained. "Michelle is checking on flights."

"Tomorrow?" Jason frowned. "That soon?"

"Hey Jase." Dale slid an arm across Jason's shoulders and gave him a shake. "We'll only be a phone call away."

"Jason you don't have to stay." John reached over and gripped his younger brother's hand.

"No. I really want to stay." Jason met his brother's concerned gaze. "I. We. That is. I need to stay and give Philip and me a chance. I think. I really think he may be the right guy for me." He smiled tentatively at John.

"Well if he isn't you always have a home with us." John consoled.

"Really?" Jason looked over at Dale.

"Yeah we mean it." Dale sighed dramatically. "Your brother and I are in this for better and for worse."

Jason chuckled. "Guess I've been the worse huh?"

"Nah. John's snoring is the worse." Dale teased.

"I don't snore." John denied.

"Yes you do." The two younger men snapped back in unison.

"I don't." John restated.

Jason and Dale just laughed.

"Alright, alright! You win this time." John stood up and stretched. "I have some pictures I want to take before I leave. And Solomon over at the library has some local materials he is copying for me. You coming with me?" He asked Dale.

"Of course. To the ends of the earth!" Dale proclaimed.

"Please!" Jason moaned. "I think I'm going to work

class=Section71>

on my book."

"Don't forget to eat." John reminded as he and Dale headed to their room to collect their things.

A few minutes later as he passed their door Jason heard Dale moaning and grinned. They definitely wouldn't be leaving for town anytime soon.

Reaching his room he diplomatically sat at the desk and stayed away from the wall between their rooms. Yesterday's bit snooping was more than enough.

Hours later Jason was startled by the sound of Philip's voice.

"In here" he yelled stretching in the chair and feeling his muscles pop.

"Hi". He smiled as Philip crossed the room and leaned down to kiss him. "Hmmm. Yeah." He sighed enjoying himself. Reaching up he wrapped his arms around Philips neck and pulled him closer.

"Hey slow down Tiger." Philip laughed.

"Why? It's been days!" Jason pouted.

"Hmm." Philip chuckled even as he leaned back down to suckle Jason's full bottom lip.

"Bed." Jason moaned rising to his feet. "Doors closed. We're adults. We need a bed."

Philip laughed and allowed the younger man to maneuver him down onto the bed enjoying Jason's confidence.

"Need you Philip." Jason panted as he undid buttons and zippers intent on removing any and all barriers between them "Need you so much."

"Slow down Baby" Philip gasped as Jason started to move against him.

Rolling over he pinned the younger man beneath him and held him still. "We have plenty of time. No need to rush. We have the rest of our lives."

"Good Grief," Michael sniggered eyeing the relaxed demeanor of their guests that evening. "I think we are working too hard Carl."

"It seems so." Carl smiled in agreement.

"Dinner is warming in the oven. I hope you like Lasagna." John smiled loosening his hold on Dale and climbing to his feet. "It's Dale and my going away gift."

"You're leaving?" Carl frowned.

"I'm afraid so. T

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here's been a problem with one of my articles and I have to go and straighten things out." John explained as he got up to pull the salad out of the refrigerator. "My editor has arranged for Dale and I to fly out tomorrow."

"I'm sorry you have to cut your vacation short." Carl sympathized following John into the kitchen.

"Well in some ways it is a good thing." John glanced over to where Jason sat cuddled in Philip’s arms. It was amazing to see his brother so relaxed and happy but at the same time it was unnerving.

"Don't worry John." Carl spoke quietly seeing the other man's concern. "If things go bad we'll let you know."

John smiled wryly as he set the salad on the table. "Am I so transparent?"

"You're his brother and you're concerned." Carl spoke simply. "Philip is our friend but we won't let Jason get hurt."

John moved to the oven to pull out the lasagna and garlic bread. "Despite the fact that he immerses himself in facts and figures he isn't a practical person." John told Carl speaking softly. "He feels things deeply and has a tendency to act first and then think. If he's hurting he won't tell you."

"I'll keep an eye on him." Carl promised. "However, I honestly think he and Philip are going to make it John."

"I hope so." John smiled sadly. "I can't stand to see him hurting."

"Why so sober?" Dale asked interrupting them as he headed to the cupboard for a glass."

"Just talking." John smiled.

"By the way Carl." Dale approached the older man nervously ducking his head. "I just wanted to let you know that I, that is we, appreciate your hospitality."

"Thank you, Dale." Carl accepted the younger man's out stretched hand. "Michael and I hope that you and John count yourself as friends and visit us whenever you have a chance."

"I think we will be visiting Alaska on a regular basis now. Won't we, John?" Dale smiled at his partner.

"Definitely." John agreed practically beaming with pride at Dale.

Despite Carl and Michael's threat to retire early

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the six men lingered over dinner enjoying the food and company. There was an underlying sadness knowing that Dale and John were leaving the next day but it was offset by the relaxed camaraderie. At the moment their lives were balanced and they were able to live in the moment.

It was closing in on midnight when Carl finally rose to his feet. "Michael and I will say our good-byes now." He announced. “We both have other obligations or else we would see you off tomorrow."

"No problem." John smiled. "Jason is going to take us to the airport. We'll be fine. Thank you for having us."

"It has been our pleasure." Carl shook both their hands.

"Yeah. Come back soon." Michael agreed. "Hopefully we won't have as busy a schedule when we see you again." He chuckle self-depreciatingly.

After a chorus of good-nights the remaining four men settled back into their chairs and sipped the their tea.

"I fancy a bit of a walk." John announced standing up and carrying his cup to the sink. "Would you like to join me Philip?"

"A walk sounds good." Jason stretched like a cat. "I'll go with you."

"I don't think you are invited." Philip smiled at him.

"What do you mean I'm not invited?" Jason frowned.

"Your brother wants to talk to me in private." Philip explained. "However;" he leaned over and dropped a light kiss on Jason's lips. "We won't be long."

"Why can't I go?" Jason demanded. "You can't have anything to say to Philip that doesn't concern me."

Philip stood and pulled Jason to his feet. "Your brother apparently wants to make sure that my intentions are honorable which they are. However, that's just how big brothers are. How about getting ready for bed while we take a walk about. I doubt we will be long."

Jason glared at John for a moment. "Don't you try anything." Jason growled. "Hurry up and come back." He ordered Philip. "I have plans for bed." Ignoring John's slightly disapproving look Jason wound himself around Philip and kissed him long and hard.

Philip was panting slightly as he extricated himself from Jason's hold and turned the younger man towards the hall. "Go get ready for bed Brat." He ordered wryly.

"I'll be waiting." Jason promised. With one more w

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arning glare at his brother he sashayed down the hall to his room.

"You too Dale." John dropped a light kiss on his partner's lips before sending the bemused young man down the hall with a slight tap to his bottom.

"I'm going." Dale murmured. "Sheesh!"

John handed Philip a light jacket and led the way outside.

The night was cold and the only sounds were the occasional hoot of an owl and the running water of the river. For almost twenty minutes the two men had walked in silence, until Philip had decided to break the silence.

"I love your brother," Philip stated.

"That's good."

"In fact, I'm in love with your brother."

"That's even better."

"Jason has never been very impetuous in his private life, and the few times he has been...well, let's say the results haven't always been good," John said.

"You think we're being impetuous?"

"Well, we came here on vacation and now he's leaving his job and moving to Alaska to be with you. What do you think?"

"How far would go to be with Dale?"

"To the ends of the earth," John admitted. "But, we aren't talking about me and Dale."

"I have no intention of hurting your brother, John."

The write chuckled softly. "Strange words when you are thinking about entering a discipline relationship."

"Jason and I haven't made any final decisions on that," Philip told him. "Does it bother you?"

"Wouldn't that be the pot calling the kettle black?"

"So you're fine with it?"

John shook his head. "I

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didn't say that."

"Then what are you saying? Because as much as I enjoy a nighttime hike, I'd rather be with Jason, and I'm sure you'd rather be Dale."

John stopped in his tracks and faced the pilot. "I don't really know you Philip. You seem like a great guy, but do I feel secure knowing you might be entering a DR with my brother? I'm not sure I'm secure with you entering any type of relationship with my brother."

"So, you don't approve of my relationship with Jason?" Philip asked. "I appreciate your honesty, but to be honest it doesn't matter to me how you feel. All I care about is how Jason feels."

"Jason is a smart, strong, wonderful man..."

"That's why I love him, but he's also headstrong, single-minded, and borders on self-absorbed. Qualities, which I also love."

"But can drive you crazy."

"Yes," Philip agreed and added softly. "I want to build a life with your brother, John, not tear his life down."

"You sound like a writer."

"I sound like a man in love," the pilot corrected. "I do understand your concern. Believe me. When my brother began his relationship with his partner, I was worse than a mother bear."

"How do you think your brother will feel about Jason?"

Philip thought a moment and smiled. "At first...probably the same way Jason felt about Dale."

"Oooh boy."

"But," he added. "I hope Lindsey and Jason will develop a relationship with the caring that Dale and Jason have for each other."

"Caring? Dale and Jason?" John laughed. "On a good day, they are at each other's throats."

"But they care about each other."

"That they do," John agreed and asked, "How do you get along with Lindsey's partner?"

"He's one of my best friends, and I trust him with my brother, completely."

"I'd like that type of relationship," John said.

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"So would I, and I think we might just achieve it."

"Maybe," John agreed. "But, I'll still kick you're ass if you hurt my brother."

******

Kimmi followed her master from the bedroom into the hallway. They entered the living room, and she waited patiently while he put on his jacket. When the front door opened, she rushed out into the cold night air.

She stopped and looked back as the front door closed.

"Go on, girl," Michael told her.

With a soft woof, Kimmi trotted off to the side of the house while Michael made his way towards the kennel. It was getting late and the lodge was quiet, just the way he liked it.

It was funny. Most people assumed Carl was the one who sought the quiet while Michael preferred the crowds and noise, but it was the opposite.

He had spent so much of his life trying not to think, using noise and crowds to get lost in, reacting to people and situations, not thinking. Now, though, nearing forty years old, and he craved the opportunity to think and reflect.

Tonight his thoughts were on family. John and Dale would be leaving tomorrow, but Jason would never be without his brother.

"I thought it was you out here."

Michael turned to Jason who had pulled a jacket over his flannel pajama. "If you're planning to live up here, you need to learn to dress for the cold."

"I'm fine."

"I thought you went bed. What are you doing up?"

"Waiting for John and Philip," he admitted.

"Waiting to see if either one comes back sporting bruises or a broken nose?" Michael joked.

"What about you? What are you doing up?"

"Kimmi wanted to come out."

Jason looked closely at the older man's somber exp

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ression and solemn eyes "Are you okay?"

"Fine." It came out sharper than Michael intended.

"Sure, okay...I didn't mean to disturb you," Jason replied tersely. "I'll let you get back to

your...thoughts."

The mathematician made his way back to the house but stopped when Michael said.

"It's not personal, Jason. I'm just...I'm just thinking about family," he admitted as he noticed a bottle in the other man's hand. "What's that?"

"This?" Jason asked and lifted the bottle. It was his turn to stumble over words. "It's for you...I wasn't sure about...if you wanted it...I mean...Here."

Michael took the offered and read the moonlit label. "Macallan...This is scotch."

"Yeah. Well, I sort of ruined your last bottle."

"This is the real stuff, Jason," Michael stated.

"I don't know much about the stuff, but a History professor I work with, it's his hobby. He knows all about wines, whiskeys, everything except beer. He pointed me in the right direction."

Michael looked at the younger man and shook his head. "I don't know what to say."

"I saw how much the bottle I opened meant to you. I know I could never replace what it meant, but I thought this might help," Jason explained.

Michael turned and walked away as he ran a hand over his face. When he spoke his voice was rough with emotions, "The bottle you opened...I had it for nearly fifteen years..."

"And I already told you that I was sorry," Jason reminded him, trying not to become defensive.

"I know...It was given in friendship...for friendship..."

"The same way this one is given..."

Michael turned to the younger man. Tears filled the man's eyes and he clutched the bottle to his chest.

"At least, I hope that's okay."

"It's definitely okay," Michael assured him. "Tell you what, how about we open this on yours and Philip's fifteenth anniversary?"

Jason beamed. "It's a deal, suunabba."

"Suunabba,

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" Michael agreed and led Jason's toward the lodge.

Breakfast was quiet. Carl, Michael, and Philip had already eaten and left before even John got up. After starting a fresh pot of coffee John woke the two younger ones and managed to get them each upright and headed towards the shower before tackling breakfast.

Now with breakfast winding down they needed to get moving if they wanted to catch their flight.

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay driving back by yourself?” John asked his brother as Jason maneuvered the truck down the dirt road towards town.

“Sure. No problem.” Jase grinned. “If anything happens I’ll just send up a flare.” John’s scowl showed he was not amused. “Honestly John, I’ll be fine. Once we get to town there is only one road to the airport.”

“John did you pack my Dramamine?” Dale asked nervously clawing through his backpack. “I can’t find my Dramamine.”

“I have it.” John laid a calming hand on Dale’s. “You need to take it a half hour before our flight. I’ll give it to you after we check in at the airport. Okay?”

“Yeah. One half hour before our flight.” Dale repeated slightly breathless.

“Hey Dale. Do you have that list I gave you of clothes and stuff I want?” Jason questioned trying to distract the other man.

“Uh huh. I don’t understand why you want all that. You’re just staying the summer.” Dale complained.

“You know me and laundry.” Jason laughed. “The more underwear I have the fewer times I have to face the washer.”

“Yeah but your list is mostly books.” Dale pointed out. “Mailing those is going to cost and arm and a leg and you are going to have to ship them back in the fall.”

“I need my references.” Jason retorted stubbornly.

“Which ones are on his list?” John questioned curiously.

Dale pulled out the list Jason had given him and started to read.

They spent the rest of the drive debating which textbooks Jason absolutely needed and which he just wanted. By the time they reached the airport the list had been pared down from twenty-two to five.

Jason parked the truck and helped carry the bags to the check-in counter. After checking they found a water fountain so Dale could take his Dramamine.

“Honey could you pick up a couple of magazines and a couple of bottle of waters for us at the gift shop?” John asked Dale.

“Sure. No problem.” Dale agreed. “I think he wants to be alone with you.” He teased Jason.

“Don’t worry I’m taken.” Jason grinned.

“Get going brat.” John dropped a swat on the seat of Dale’s jeans and turned him towards the gift shop.

“Owww, partner abuse.” Dale whined even as he headed off.

“John. I’m going to be okay.” Jason spoke quickly. “I’ll be home at the end of August in plenty of time for the fall semester.”

“But you’ll be leaving as soon as school ends in December.” John frowned.

“We don’t know that.” Jason shrugged.

“The University up here would be stupid not to grab you up.” John reassured him.

“I hope so.” Jason smiled. “Anyway, I want the chance to build something with Philip.”

“I want you to be happy.” John sighed. “You do know we will always be there. I’m just a phone call away.”

“I know.” Jason grinned. “It will be okay. I’m making the right decision.”

“You know I don’t say it very often but I do love you little brother.” John spoke softly.

“And I love you.” Jason smiled stepping into his brother’s arms for a hug.

“Hey. Should I be jealous or something?” Dale questioned.

“Nope.” Jason stepped back wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. “Just a moment of brother bonding.”

“We need to get through security.” John announced his voice a bit rough. “Thank you for the water.” He took a bottle from Dale and spent a moment rearranging his backpack.

Jason and Dale smiled at each other.

“Take care Jason.” Dale offered his hand to his brother-in-law.

“You too.”

“Come on John.” Dale nudged his partner. “It takes forever to get your camera’s and stuff through security.”

“Call us and we will pick you up when you come home.” John instructed his brother even as he allowed Dale to herd him towards the security line. “We will send your stuff as soon as possible.”

Jason just grinned and waved. It felt good knowing his brother cared. He watched as John and Dale went through security and then watched as they headed up the concourse only turning to leave when they were gone.

Pushing through the doors of the airport he stood in the fresh Alaskan air and a stretched. Yes it felt really good knowing he had family that cared about him, but it didn’t stack up to how great it felt to know a certain pilot cared just as much if not more. Sliding his sunglasses on he headed for the truck and his future.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Notes:

1. Abbreviated form of French saying "plus ça change, plus ça même chose," meaning approximately "the more things change, the more they stay the same." http://www.thegamemechanics.com/opinion/rich-006.asp