Disclaimer - CowLip/Russell T Davies/Showtime own them. I sure don't.

Dude. It's my first completed QAF fic. Feedback would ROCK.

A 513 episode addition, so definite spoilers. Brian/Justin, rated R for language.

*

"Talk to him sometimes," Justin had pleaded, handing over a key to the loft as she dropped him off at the airport. "You know what he's like. He's going to pretend he's fine."

Brian was at the hospital for three days waiting to hear if Justin was going to live, and every night afterwards. She knows exactly what he's like.

Kissing and hugging Justin probably far longer than he appreciates, she doesn't really start crying until he's inside the airport. Back in the car she clutches the steering wheel even as she's urged to move by security. She wants to scream my son is leaving and I have no idea when I'm going to see him again and wonders why more homicides aren't commited outside airports.

It's different than when he left for LA, and she tries not to think of things like his first word, his first drawing, the first time he told her he was in love with Brian.

The first time he told her that he knew Brian loved him back.

Her make-up's long since been ruined and though part of her wants to find Tucker, wants to hold on and stop being 'Mom' and just be Jennifer, there's something she needs to do first.

"Talk to him sometimes," Justin had said.

He didn't tell her to wait.

*

She finds him sitting on the edge of the bed, thankfully fully clothed, and thinks he might have been sitting there ever since Justin left. Stepping up into the bedroom she looks down at him as he looks up at her.

"You look like shit," he tells her.

She almost laughs. "Ditto."

Grunting something between a chuckle and a groan - heaven forbid Brian Kinney should ever look *bad* - he jams a cigarette into the corner of his mouth but doesn't light it, and it's fascinating to watch it jerk around as he talks. "Now I know where Sunshine gets his *charming* personality. And I always thought it was his asshole father."

"And I suppose *you* had no influence," she raises her eyebrows, then refuses the cigarette he offers. She doesn't smoke, but Brian always asks. "He made it to the airport on time," she tells him, because she knows he won't ask even though he wants to. Understanding Brian didn't take very long, really, but that doesn't make him any less frustrating. "Gave me a copy of his key. He still has his..." she holds Brian's gaze. "...for when he comes back."

Brian turns his head away. "Right."

Because he didn't believe Justin was going to come back from LA, and he doesn't believe Justin's going to come back this time, either.

Maybe he's right. Maybe Brian's going to have to go to New York, even if she has to drag him there herself by his single remaining ball.

Chuckling at the thought, she slumps down next to him on the bed.

Finally lighting up the cigarette in his mouth, he frowns at her. "Huh?"

"I was just thinking..." she shrugs. "You were my worst nightmare. The first guy who...fucked him. You introduced him to drugs, alcohol, cigarettes, God *knows* what else." He doesn't wince, not even slightly. And it's possible she may be deliberately naive about anything Justin experienced before Brian came along. "And you were almost my son-in-law. And I *wanted* you to be." When did that happen? When did he stop being the man who fucked my son to become the man who loves my son?

Obviously uncomfortable, he doesn't look at her and scratches the side of his face with the hand holding the cigarette. "Lucky escape."

Jennifer doesn't think so. She doesn't think so at all. "I'm sorry he had to leave." It's a mistake, she knows it is the moment the words leave her mouth, but the pain in her chest that appeared when Justin told her he was leaving is still there, and Brian's the only one who can understand.

Pushing himself abruptly to his feet, he disappears down the steps towards the kitchen. "Sorry's bullshit," he declares, bare feet slapping on the wooden floor. "He's doing what he needs to do. No one should be sorry for that."

Sighing, Jennifer gets to her feet herself and understands why Debbie smacks Michael across the head so often. It's how she feels almost every single time she talks to Brian.

She wants to hug him, wants him to cry, wants to tell him it's okay to stop being so *Brian*, but he *is* Brian and he always will be. So she talks to him on terms he'll appreciate.

Following him towards the kitchen, she speaks as he turns around by the counter. "Listen, you little shit." He blinks but she continues. "I'm still going to be around," even if Justin isn't "and I expect to see you. If you miss him but don't want to admit it, you can tell me you want to talk about Kinnetik or whatever the hell else you want. If you ever have any property to sell or are interested in buying, I'm still the person you call. You'll be here when Justin comes to visit, and every few months you'll fly out to visit him. And if, one day," she pauses, taking a breath, "it looks like Justin definitely isn't coming back from New York, then you'll just have to move out there with him."

He'd looked a little shocked at some of that, but before long that familiar lazy amusement is on his face. "Anything else, Mom?"

Yes. She definitely wants to smack him, but gives as good as she gets. "Just that I'm not going to stand for any of your bullshit, sweetheart."

Laughing, he scratches at his face again. "I always knew in-laws were supposed to be a bitch, but man." Stubbing out his cigarette in an ashtray on the counter, he digs the packet out of his jeans and offers her one.

Jennifer doesn't even have to think.

This time, smiling, she takes it.

~FINIS

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