Brian just grins and guns the engine. I give a somewhat jaunty wave -- if I do say so myself -- to Fat Marlie, who scowls and jumps out of the way as we zoom past. Yeah, the past couple of weeks without a lift home had really sucked. It�s a relief to be talking to Brian again, even if I do sort of owe that little shit Justin for it. I think he�s taking Intervention 101 lessons from my mother.

�So how was your day, dear?� Brian drawls in falsetto as we ease onto Butler.

�Let�s see. The district manager took us out to lunch at this new pita place.�

�Wait. Is that the same district manager who thinks Tracy and Little Mikey are on intimate acquaintance?�

�It�s Big Mikey, and fuck you,� I laugh. �The new Christmas decorations came in; I picked up one of the glow-in-the-dark Santa�s for Ma. She�s gonna love it. Oh, and that classic Crater-Head figurine finally arrived from eBay!� I�m practically salivating at that one.

I don�t have to look to know that Brian is rolling his eyes. �Mikey, you are sooo--�

�Yeah, yeah, I know. Like your day was so much better.�

�Pretty typical, actually,� Brian says. �Landed a new account, re-worked the mockups for Liberty Air, fucked one of the junior execs on my desk. And I had a really great latte.� He fakes a yawn. �Same old, same old.�

�Whoa, hold on.� I glance at Brian, who�s watching me out of the corner of his eye as he takes the turn onto Buckley. �You drink latte?� He snorts out a laugh and I settle back in my seat. There�s no way... that�s just too... Even Brian wouldn�t... �You did not.�

�Kip did a good job,� he shrugs. �I figure he deserved a Christmas bonus.�

Oh my god, he did.

�You fucked him in your office?� I manage to get out.

�It was the best thing to come across my desk in a long time.�

He really really did.

I love Brian. Always have, always will. Maybe one of the reasons I love him is that in sixteen some-odd years of friendship, he still never fails to surprise me. �You are unbelievable,� I tell him.

Brian smirks. �Yeah. That�s what he said.�

�I didn�t mean it like that,� I insist, shaking my head in an attempt to dislodge the image of sweat-slicked Brian that�s suddenly fixated there. I mean, I was the one who picked out that new clear lucite desk in Brian�s office. Now I understand what he meant when he said that it needed to be tested for durability. Oh Christ, does that mean he fucked the salesclerk on it?

�Don�t tell me nobody�s ever had a big O at the Big-Q?� Brian is saying.

Oh man, the last thing on my mind when I�m at work is sex. I think there�s actually something in the industrial cleaning fluid they use on the floors that hinders the libido. And the blue smocks aren�t exactly the stuff of porn fantasies. I shake my head in response to Brian�s question. �I wouldn�t know.�

�Well, I would. First hand, and I mean first hand experience.�

You know, there are only so many revelations a man can take in one day. I truly hope I�m wrong about this one. �Are you saying--?�

�You remember last Christmas when I came to pick you up and you were setting up for Santa�s workshop?�

Oh god no. �Not Santa! Don�t tell me you fucked Santa!�

Brian hesitates, and I close my eyes and expect the worst. It�s only when he denies it that I can relax again. Because c�mon... it�s Santa. I feel like I have to do penance and it wasn�t even me that fucked him. Or the elf. Oh man, the elf. I�ve got the same guys scheduled to work again this Christmas. They start next week. I am not going to be able to look at that elf without cracking up.

I guess with Brian and this employee though, it�ll just be business as usual.

�But you better be careful,� I warn. I know a fuck�s just a fuck, at least for Brian. And he must have made that clear to this Kip guy. �I mean, doing it in your office may be a little too high risk even for you.�

Brian looks astounded. �What? He asked for it; he came on to me. I gave him a great opportunity, and a great fuck. He has no complaints.�

I nod and lean back in my seat. �Okay. But you might want to make it clear to him--�

�It�s clear, Mikey. Christ, quit worrying.�

Yeah. You might as well ask me to quit breathing. I worry. It�s the Italian in me.

�You can just drop me off at Ma�s,� I tell Brian when we�ve gone a few more blocks. �I�ve gotta drop off the Santa, then I�m meeting Ted. We�re going to try to convince Em to come out for dinner.�

I side-glance at Brian, but he�s still concentrating on the road. Maybe he�s ticked that I�m not doing cartwheels over his latest conquest. I don�t know. I�m still kind of traumatized by the elf revelation. �You�re welcome to come if you want.�

Brian flicks his eyes briefly in my direction. �Thanks, but like I said, Kip already took care of that.�

�Uh huh. Down to once a day, are you?�

�No. I just figured I�d pick up Justin for the other four,� he snipes back as he pulls up out front of the house.

I refuse to analyze why that pisses me off. �Yeah well--�

�Need any help with your bags?� Brian cuts me off.

�No, I�m--�

�Great. Then send Justin out, will you?� He smiles and leans across me to open the passenger door. �And I�ll see you tomorrow, Mikey.�

Well, I�ve been dismissed. I gather my shit and trudge up to the house, determined to shake off any gloomy thoughts that are gathering. Brian�s probably just distracted by his new campaign. Yeah, that�s all.