Many, many thanks to the Puff, who asked that I write this to help her exorcise some demons. (It helped me with some demons of my own.)

January 27, 1998

Young Mr. Evers behavior towards the staff over Christmas catches up with him. And he and his lover have to deal with some 'abuse' issues.

~~~~~~

Ralph peered into the kitchen from the outside entrance door. Yuan and Vincent sat at the small table, drinking coffee. The remnants of their breakfast still on the plates around them. "Should I wave a white flag?" he asked, only half in jest.

Yuan smiled, shaking his head. "No. It's safe now. He's back."

Ralph walked into the room, letting the door shut behind him. "Mr. Patrick?"

Vincent nodded. "He came in sometime Christmas eve. I guess he didn't call you to pick him up."

The chauffeur sat at the table. "No. Not this time. I did take the Councilor to the airport. He was in a hurry to get out of here."

"Can you blame him?" Vincent shuddered dramatically. "His son made everyone's life miserable."

"So everything's back to normal?" Ralph walked over to pour himself a cup of coffee.

"As normal as it can be when the terror's around."

"You can tell the difference when Mr. Patrick's here," Yuan said.

"Did he apologize?" Ralph asked as he added cream from the silly little porcelain cow resting by the coffee maker.

"Who? Young master Evers? Are you serious? I'm just thankful it stopped. His lordship won't apologize. He never has before."

The three men sat in quiet contemplation.

Ralph took a sweet roll from the plate and returned to the group at the table. "So, how was your trip?" he asked as he sat back down.

"I lost my discount because I left Washington early," Vincent said as he drank from his cup.

"You should make Mr. Justin reimburse you," Ralph said, frowning as he bit into the roll he held. "After all, he was the reason you left early in the first place."

"Two hundred thirty-two dollars might as well be two hundred thousand." Vincent turned to the chauffeur. "And what are you complaining about? You barricaded yourself in the garage with your cars. Nobody was on the front lines but the house staff and the Councilor."

No one noticed Choate quietly closing the inner door to the kitchen.

~~~~~

Choate's search for Justin ended in the game room. He took in the sight of his lover leaning, elbows on a table. Justin wore a pair of headphones, his hips swaying to the music, oblivious to the world.

The big Marine stole up behind him, snagging a small paddle from a game table as he went by. Justin's tight buns were encased in a pair of silky shorts that barely covered the twin, round globes.

Choate watched their sensuous sway for one moment before drawing back the paddle. It met the center of his designated target with a resounding crack.

Justin leaped several inches in the air as he spun around, grabbing the injured area with both hands.

"YEOW," he screeched as he spun around dancing away, the headphones sliding from his head, forgotten. "What the FUCK!" he bellowed, blinking away tears. "Paddy! Damn!"

"You say one more curse word, little boy--"

"Paddy, that hurt!"

"It's going to hurt a lot more," he snarled, reaching for Justin.

Young Evers maneuvered away. "What did I do?!" he shrieked, frantically rubbing his bottom.

"Tell me what happened while I was gone, little boy."

"While you were gone, when?"

Choate reached for the smaller man again and Justin raced to put the game table between them. "Before Christmas."

"Nothing! I waited for you!" Justin wailed, jerking back from Choate's reach once again. "What's supposed to have happened?"

"You terrorized your father and the staff with your tantrum."

"I didn't." Justin shook his head as he backed away.

Choate moved again. "You're lying."

Justin moved with him. "It wasn't a tantrum. I was worried about you! I didn't terrorize anybody. If they told you that, someone's lying about me."

"Nobody told. I heard the staff talking. You made Victor change his vacation plans because of you."

"No. He still went to visit his niece and nephew."

"Three days early. He lost his discount."

"He didn't do it because of me," Justin denied stubbornly.

Choate continued, ignoring his denial, "And Yuan and your father? You drove them away too, didn't you?"

"No," Justin shook his head as he slid around the circumference of the table, keeping his distance from Choate.

"Did Ralph come into the house while I was gone?"

"Ralph?" Justin moved again.

And Choate moved with him. "He hid in the garage to get away from you."

"No."

The Marine caught his lover on the next lunge.

With his free hand, Justin made a desperate grab for the hand that held the paddle. "No, Paddy. Please."

Choate snatched his arm from the younger man's grip, the momentum carrying him across the game table. Choate pressed him down with his hand flat against the small of Justin's back and smacked his butt hard with the paddle.

Justin covered his upturned ass with both hands. "Paddy, I don't understand. Why're you so mad? They're just staff!"

The Marine swatted the backs of his lover's hands with the hard wood and Justin snatched the stinging knuckles from harm. Target clear. Choate began peppering the round flesh and naked backs of the squirming man's thighs.

"So am I," he said angrily between his teeth as he punctuated each word with a sharp rap of the hard surface against heating flesh.

Suddenly, the wooden paddle separated from the handle with a snap.

Choate threw it aside and reached for the second one.

Feeling the Chief Aide's distraction, Justin used the opportunity to break loose from his grip.

Choate caught him by the wrist before he could get too far.

"No, Paddy!" Justin pulled hard. "I'm sorry."

"If you're saying you're sorry I found out, I know you are."

"No. I'm really sorry."

"Don't say it to me," he said, pulling Justin towards him.

The young man dug in his heels. "I'll tell them," he cried. "All of them. Not the paddle! Ohhhhh!" Justin moaned as Choate returned him to face down over the edge of the table.

As he bent the young man over, the hem of the shorts rose and the Marine could see the fiery red of the flesh there.

Justin began to weep pitifully.

Choate paused. Then, shaking his head, he lay the paddle aside and began swatting the round cheeks with his hand.

At the first blow, Justin's head snapped up. "Owwww!" he howled.

"You make this right, little boy," he said as he spanked Justin again.

"I will!" Justin promised as he squirmed energetically to get out of the way.

"In a hurry," Choate said, the hand descending again.

"Yes, Paddy."

"And it better not happen again. No matter what!" Another hard whack, then the Marine let the repentant young man stand.

Justin didn't say anything to Choate s he straightened. He just stood, walked from the game room, up the stairs and into his room. Shutting the door, Justin locked it and went into the bathroom to take a shower.

Later, letting the water sheet down his body, Justin rubbed soap gingerly over his injured area. His lover didn't spank him often. Well, more often than Justin wanted, but this was the first time he'd used something other than his hand. Justin felt angry and betrayed. Choate hadn't really hurt him, physically. The pain had been more mental than anything else. His lover knew he hated the paddle. And Choate had used it to punish him anyway. All because of something he'd done to the servants. The hired help.

Justin turned off the water and quickly dried himself off. Walking into this bedroom, he searched through a drawer until he found a soft pair of sweats and pulled them on. Then, the young man threw himself face down on his bed and tucked a pillow under his chin. Mr. Chief Aide expected him to apologize. Not to anyone important. He wanted the apology made to a cook, a butler and a chauffeur. Well, Justin wouldn't do it! He had to draw the line somewhere. They'd never respect him if he went and humbled himself to them. They were there to serve him and his father. That's what they were paid for. Justin thought peevishly.

Then Justin remembered when he had been younger, Vincent had helped him with his homework, listened to his chatter, answered his countless questions, understood his early conflict with his sexuality.

And Yuan, making him delicious hot soup and clucking over him when he was sick, keeping the pâté he loved on hand, fixing his favorite meals (even when he didn't deserve it).

And all the times Ralph had come to pick him up when he was too drunk, or too high to drive home, even on his days off, and never telling on him.

And his father, coping with him, the best he could, even after losing the love of his life.

Young Evers heard his own voice saying, "They're just staff," and his lover responding, "So am I."

Rolling off the bed, Justin stood and walked slowly back to his dresser. Once there, the young man opened the top drawer. Inside, against one corner rested a small, ebony box. Justin took it out and opened it. Taking out a small stack of bills, Justin counted out the appropriate amount of money. Then, picking up the phone, he dialled a number.

~~~~~~

The three men sat at the kitchen table. It was Friday and tomorrow everyone had the weekend off.

"What're you going to do?" Ralph asked as he stirred his cooling cup of coffee.

Yuan stirred a pot at the stove. "I've got nothing planned, how about you?"

Vincent, polishing silved at the table, shook his head.

The chauffeur shrugged. "Nothing. I'd like to go to the Center, they have a car show scheduled, but I waited too long. It's sold out."

Suddenly the kitchen door opened and Justin stood there. "Hi, guys."

Everyone froze in mid-action.

Vincent recovered first. "Mr. Justin. Is there something I can do for you?"

"No. I came to apologize to all of you," Justin hesitated, gathering his courage, "for the way I acted over the holiday."

It took the staff a second to react. Yuan hid the choke behind a cough. Vincent barely kept from dropping the cup he held. Ralph just looked stunned.

"Sometimes I just forget you have feelings, too. But that isn't an excuse for my behavior. You all were great, putting up with me, and all. I'd like to make it up to you, if I can." Justin handed each man an envelope, smiled then left the room.

The door had barely closed as Ralph tore into his. He held up the laminated card. "A pass."

"It's a pass to the Center." Yuan opened his more slowly.

Vincent looked at his envelope as if it were going to transform into something deadly.

"Open it," Ralph prompted.

Finally, Vincent torn the paper in half. It also contained a laminated pass, but in addition it held two hundreds, a twenty, a ten and two singles.

"You got money?" Yuan said in disbelief. "Why'd you get money?"

Vincent's eyes had gone wide and slightly glazed as he counted it again. "It's what I lost on my ticket. He reimbursed me for my airfare."

"You said he'd never apologize," Ralph huffed. "You said he'd never give you your money back, too. Look at this! These passes are good for every show at the Center for the rest of the year. They don't give these things away! They must've cost him a fortune."

The slender, older man stood there, holding the money in one hand and the envelope and pass in the other, his eyes still glazed. "He reimbursed me for my airfare," he said faintly.

"Vincent, are you all right?" Both chauffeur and cook asked simultaneously as they rose from the table.

~~~~~~

Justin sat at the window of a small, corner cafe and slowly sipped his cooling latte. He'd sent his father's apology to his office the day before yesterday. It had taken him two entire days to finish it. Justin had worked nearly night and day.

The message accompanying it had read:

'I know I'm hard to take sometimes. I don't mean to be. I miss her too.

I love you, baba.'

Justin had called his father 'baba' while his mother had been alive. After she died, he stopped calling his father anything at all.

He had started the portrait when he'd finished his degree. It had sat, wrapped in protective covering since. Justin knew it was the best thing he'd done so far. He hoped his father liked it.

Young Evers had left the residence and gone to a friend's studio to complete the painting. Leaving just a general note saying, he was ok, and that he'd be back sometime later. He'd packed a few things and departed.

Now he'd finished the painting, and he didn't know how to go home.

He knew his departure had hurt his lover. If Justin were honest with himself, that's the real reason he had done it, to punish Choate. Now that the initial anger had faded, Justin felt ashamed of himself.

He thought the Councilor's Aide would have been by to drag him home by now, but nothing.

"Is this seat taken?"

Justin looked up into the tall, shadow looming over him. "Umm, yes, actually, I'm waiting for someone."

"You can lie better than that, Justin."

Young Evers took a closer look at the figure standing over him. "Do I know you?"

The huge man slid into the seat opposite him. He was even taller than Hoss, though not as broad. And he looked familiar. "We've never met, but we have friends in common."

"We do?"

"Mr. Choate."

"You know Paddy?"

The man nodded. "For a long time."

"I know you! You're Brown."

The man smiled. "Actually, the name's Winston Dupre."

"I saw you and Paddy at the park that day. He's in love with you."

"No. He's in love with you. He and I used to be in a relationship. But that was a long time ago."

Justin played idly with his cup as he pondered this information.

"Go home, Justin," the big man said at last.

Justin started. "What?"

"You've pouted long enough. Go home."

Justin stilled the nervous movement of his hands. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You had a fight with him." The big man said, more a statement of fact than a question.

"I wouldn't call it that."

"What was it?"

"That's none of your business, Mr. Dupre."

"Winn, call me Winn." The man remained quiet while he studied Justin. "You remind me a lot of Patrick when we first met. All bluster, rude and angry. It took the agency about two years to channel all that energy into something constructive. It took me about two sessions with Sadie to straighten him out."

Justin's eyes went wide. "You gave him Sadie."

Brown nodded.

"To use on me!"

"Did he?"

"No," Justin said in disbelief.

Brown laughed out loud. Deep, rich laughter that reminded Justin of Choate's. "Is this about your ass getting paddled?"

Justin averted his eyes at Brown's mirth.

"He must really love you."

"Why?"

"If it'd been me, you wouldn't be sitting now."

Justin narrowed his glare. "I don't like you very much."

The large man laughed again. "I don't care."

That made Justin start.

"But I do care about Viper."

"Paddy can manage."

"Not when it comes to you. You're the chink in his armor."

"If Paddy cared so much about me, he'd come get me."

"He wasn't the one who ran away from home?"

Justin frowned. "Excuse me," he said, rising.

"Don't," Brown warned. "I'm not Viper. Don't pull that high-handed shit on me."

Justin slid back in his chair, wide-eyed.

Brown leaned him close. "Now you listen to me, you little snot. Viper's one of my best operatives. This escapade of yours is pushing him to the edge. Whatever he did, it couldn't have been that bad."

"He hit me with a paddle!" Justin hissed.

"And?"

"He had no right! I'm a grown man."

"Are you? You're not acting like one."

"I didn't like the paddle."

"His hand, the paddle, so what?"

Justin frowned angrily. "It makes a difference."

"What difference, Justin? I don't see it. It all the same."

"No, it isn't. He didn't touch me except to hold e down. No physical contact at all. It was just so," Justin struggled to find a word, "impersonal. Cold. Calculated. Criminal!" Young Evers said the last word with disdain.

Brown shook his head as he pulled out his cell phone.

"Who are you calling?"

"Cascade P.D."

"Why?"

"So you can file a police report about the assault."

"Assault? What assault?"

"You said Viper assaulted you."

Justin looked at the man, horrified. "I did not!"

"Hello. Cascade P.D.? I want to report--"

Justin leaned across the table and snatched the phone from Brown's fingers, slamming it shut. "Are you crazy?"

"But, he's a criminal. Criminals belong in jail."

"I'm not putting my Paddy in jail because he spanked me! Get real, man! What's the matter with you?"

"But you just said --"

Justin held up both hands in a sign of surrender. "All right already! I know what I said! Ok?" He put his hands down and rolled his shoulders to relieve the tension. "He only smacked me a few times with it," Justin paused, then continued in embarrassment, "And it wasn't nearly as hard as he did with his hand."

"But you must've been sore for weeks."

His blush deepened. "You know that's not true."

"But you left him all the other times he hit you, didn't you?"

"No."

"Why this time?"

"I told you, I hated that paddle."

"And he's used it before."

"No. I told you, this was the first time."

"Why did he use it this time?"

"I don't know," Justin said, then, seeing Winn's frown, quickly added, "The servants. I. . .I mistreated the servants. Ok?"

Brown studied the young man closely again as if considering something crucial. "Did you ever ask Viper what he did before he came to the agency?"

"I'd have more success if I asked Paddy to fly." Justin said sullenly.

"You know his mother worked at a resort in Acapulco."

"No."

"And, when Viper was older, she got him a job there, too."

"He was -- "

"Busboy, towel boy, cabana boy, just plain 'boy'. You've been on vacation. Tell me, how does the idle rich treat the hired help?"

Justin sighed, then said defensively. "They aren't all like that."

Brown laughed. "Go home, little boy. He needs you."

~~~~~~

Choate had built a fire to ward off the chill in the room. The cheerful blaze in the fashionable stone fireplace did nothing to ward off the frost surrounding his heart.

His last assignment had been executed with razor-sharp precision eliciting a smirk from Team Leader and a question glance from Brown.

Even the Councilor looked at him with question in his eyes. But Choate couldn't have cared less. He did his job and he did it well. Fuck them.

He swirled the amber liquid in the small round glass, his dark musing interrupted by a knock at his door.

"I'm off the clock," he growled.

After a slight pause, the knob turned and the door opened slowly.

Choate's heart leaped as the dark head peeked around the edge of the wood frame, but his face remained passive.

"Paddy," Justin said softly.

Choate's eyes became hooded. "Mr. Evers. You're back. How was your trip, sir?"

Justin stepped into the room. He carried a small, flat box tucked under one arm. "It really wasn't a trip, Paddy."

"Sorry, sir. I only knew you were gone. I assumed it was a trip."

Justin crept further into the room. "Stop it, Paddy."

"Stop what, sir?"

"Stop calling me sir."

"What do you want me to call you, Mr. Evers?"

Justin came closer, his look soft, hungry. "When you're angry, or annoyed with me, you call me, 'little boy'. If I'm good, you call me 'Justin.' If I'm very, very good you call me 'dulce.'"

"That seems inappropriate for the staff, sir."

Justin closed his eyes and breathed a deep and heavy sigh. When he reopened them, a single tear trailed down his cheek.

He knelt by the side of the large arm chair and put the box in Choate's lap.

"I hated that paddle, you know," he whispered, looking up into Choate's eyes. "For a moment, I thought, what's next, a switch, a whip, his fist . . ."

Choate's face drew up in anger, his brows coming together in a frown. He opened his mouth to say something.

Justin put fingers to his lips. "I know, Paddy. I said for a moment." He gave the item in Choate's lap a gentle nudge. "Open the box."

Choate watched the younger man's face a second more, then turned back to the box. Opening it, inside, nestled in crinkled paper, were two game paddles.

At the look Choate gave him, Justin ducked his head a moment, quickly looking back at him. "The sales clerk said they'd withstand almost a hundred pounds of force exerted at seventy-five miles an hour before they cracked." He closed his eyes as another tear fell. "They have a reinforced, custom-tailored handle to insure a comfortable grip -- "

Justin's speech was interrupted by an earsplitting crack that made him jump. He blinked as Choate tossed the four pieces of splintered, fragmented wood over his shoulder and into a wastebasket behind them.

"Oh!" he cried as Choate seized him by the shoulders and lifted him bodily from the floor.

The second, "Oh!" was swallowed as the aide's lips pressed down on his. And the startled young Evers then felt himself roughly pulled into a warm and waiting lap, crushed tightly against a strong and solid chest in an all encompassing embrace.

Wiggling to free his arms, Justin wrapped them around his lover's neck in delight as he enthusiastically returned all the passion in that kiss.

When Choate finally released him, Justin whispered wild and brokenly between desperate touches, tiny kisses. "I'm sorry, Paddy! I didn't mean it. Please forgive me. Never happen again. Such a brat. Why you put up with -- "

Choate quieted his young lover with another kiss, soothing him with gentle strokes along his spine. When he felt Justin's body ease, he released his lips.

Kissing his temple. "I'm sorry, too, dulce." A kiss to the other temple. "I know you didn't, amolito." A kiss to one eyelid. "I forgive you." Then the other, "Forgive me." A kiss to the center of his forehead. "I know it won't." One to the tip of his nose. "Yeah, but you're my brat." Then, his lips a breath away from Justin's, "Because I love you with all my heart."

And Choate took his lover's mouth again, drinking in Justin's affirmation like a fine wine and moaning with satisfaction and gratitude as the heat from the small body pressed tightly around him banished the chill that had settled like a weight around his heart.

And the blazing heat from love warmed him.