I feel something nudge me. Bumping insistently against my ass. I almost moan, thinking that Brian's ready to go again. Jeez, it's only been like five minutes! "Give me another ten minutes to recover, k?" I mumble, pulling the blanket up over my head.

Immediately the warmth of the thin wool vanishes as my lover snatches it off of me unceremoniously. I curl up quickly, my arms wrapped around me in a futile attempt to replace the warmth that was just taken away. "What the fuck did you do that for?" I whine. I don't particularly like the sound of my own voice whining like some kid but...well he woke me up after a damn nice afterglow snooze and it can't be later than five in the morning.

"Get up," he replies shortly.

I, as usual, have no clue what he's got in mind, but I figure what the hell. I mean...what else am I gonna do today? I can sleep anytime I guess. So with supreme effort, I roll into a sitting position and stare up at him blankly.

"Up. And put these on." A ball of clothing comes flying at my head and I snatch it out of the air before it can find its target.

"What's this?"

"That would be clothing, Justin. Surely you haven't forgotten already. These," he picks up the black cloth in my hands, "are shorts. You put one leg through this hole and the other through this one," he pointed to each leg hole, carrying out the sarcastic asshole routine as far as possible.

"What tropical bug flew up your ass?" I see him frown and I quickly shut up. Not the time for jokes, I take it. "So...what exactly are we doing?" I ask, standing up, pulling the large shorts up in the process. I have to roll them in at the waist so that they'll even stay up.

I wonder how much weight we've all lost from being here. I mean, you can't just go from eating everything in sight to eating one normal meal a day and not shed a few inches. I must look like some boney, albeit tanned, skeleton.

"We," Brian begins, pulling on the drawstring of my shorts until they almost fit, "are going for a jog."

Wait. What? Huh? Did he just say...what I think he said?

I shake my head and lay back down. Where has he been for the last like nine years of knowing me? He should remember by now. I'm allergic to exercise. Yeah. It's pretty ugly. I sweat and get all red and I have trouble breathing. See? Allergic!

"Justin, get up." He prods, his foot nudging my ass again. I slap it away and pull my blanket back over me.

I feel him straddle my hips and his hands run up and down my sides. I smile despite myself, loving the pressure of him on top of me. He leans in and nips at my neck lightly with his teeth. Oh boy does he know my spots!

"I'll make it worth your while," he breathes, his hot breath tickling my ear as I'm sure he intended. "Anything you want."

That has my attention. I reach around him and grope his ass, lightly running my hands over all the sensitive areas and then traveling up his spine until my fingers thread through his hair, pulling him into me. "Oh really?" I ask, wanting him to know just how much this is going to cost him. "Anything?"

He pulls back and stares into my eyes for a second before nodding. "Anything." He smirks to let me know that it isn't going to be a one-sided deal. If I get what I want, then he sure as hell better get something out of it too. And I have no problem with that. Not if I get to top him. Something he hasn't allowed. Well...up until now.

I can understand I guess. It's one thing to fuck without a condom. Quite another to BE fucked without one. But then...I had no problem with the idea. I relished the idea of feeling the man raw and completely uninhibited within me. Of course, I wouldn't dream of telling Brian that. I might be a little slow sometimes, but I'm not completely stupid!

So with the idea of how good it will feel to slip into him again...and for the first time sans latex...I hop up and follow his lead.

We stretch for a few minutes. I'm not a big stretching expert or anything so I just try to mimic his movements. I feel the pull of muscles that have long been forgotten and grunt as I force myself into positions I'd never otherwise be in. Kind of fun I guess, in a masochistic sort of way.

After Brian is satisfied that we're all stretched out, he tilts his head towards the right and off we go...jogging... Yeah. Or in my case, shuffling really quickly.

About a mile or so later, I'm completely out of breath and my shins and bare feet are screaming bloody murder as they fight against the firm sand beneath. But I've kept up with Brian, which is enough to satisfy me. Still, he keeps looking back at me and laughing or tossing his own special brand of encouragement over his shoulder.

I don't know about him, but I've never really thought of "move it, lard ass" and "you're slower than an old lady with a broken walker" as words of encouragement.

When he finally slows down and begins to jog in place, I collapse onto the ground and hug a mound of sand to my chest, stopping just short of burying my face in it.

Just as I'm sure Brian is about to follow my lead, I watch him settle on his stomach and then he pushes his body up with his arms. Only his toes and hands touch the ground as he continues the quick pushups, the muscles in his arms and back pulsing and tightening with his movements. I get so caught up with staring at the beautiful body, I only snap out of it when I hear Brian laughing at me. He never breaks his rhythm as he shakes his head in amusement. Shithead.

So as not to be left behind or laughed at further, I actually push myself up as well, making sure to keep my knees on the ground for extra support. Brian pauses at the top of his pushup and glances at me. I glare back at him, just daring him to mention something about ‘girlie' pushups. He just smiles contritely and moves his gaze back to the ground.

Amazingly, even to me, I manage about thirty pushups before my arms start feeling all rubbery. I guess that's pretty good. It's been quite a few years, after all, since those required PE classes at St. James. And even then, we rarely did anything even remotely physical.

That has to be it. I'm done. I've put in my time for the day. I stretch out happily on my tummy, now satisfied with laying in the warm morning sun like a turtle on a rock. Suddenly, Brian catches me unawares and flips me over. His long fingers wrap around the fronts of my ankles. Apparently he's under the impression that I'm about to do sit-ups.

"When the fuck did I sign up for Kinney's boot camp?"

"C'mon Justin. Don't tell me you can't do it."

Pu-lease! Does he REALLY think he can get me with that reverse psychology crap? "Nope. Sure can't. I'm a big ole failure."

"You are a spoil sport is what you are," he huffs, flopping back onto his own back. "Will you at least hold my legs for me?"

I nod, hating to see him get all grouchy over it. He really is such a baby sometimes. It doesn't happen all that often, but when people don't play his way, he gets upset and flustered. As if he really just doesn't understand why they don't live to serve him.

He does countless sit-ups as I perch on his feet and rest my head on his knees. I can feel my own blood pumping from all the activity. I'm not used to it and I actually feel really wired right now, but the effect is counter-balanced by the fact that I only got about three good hours of sleep last night. The longer I sit out here in the snugly warmth of early morning, the more I want to settle down into my bed and just sleep. Ohhh...peaceful sleep.

As I start to drift off, Brian places a feather light kiss to my forehead. I open my eyes and smile at him guiltily. "Ready to go back?" he asks, smoothing his thumb across my lips, his mood a complete one-eighty from ten minutes ago. He's gone from Boot Camp Kinney to Brian Suave and I just don't know what to think of that mood swing.

On the way back to the house, he challenges me to a race. I dunno. Maybe it's his good mood that urges me into action. I want to make him smile. No matter the reason, I find myself flat out running the entire mile back, despite the fact that I think my heart is going to explode and my lungs are going to spontaneously combust.

Once again I find myself collapsing onto the sand, this time at Rory's feet. It would seem that she's just come back from a swim and several droplets of water fall onto me, but I'm too damn tired to wipe them off.

"Don't...stop now," Brian insists. He's also winded by the run and I take a little pleasure in hearing his wheezing breaths. "We can...go for a swim. How's the water, Rory?"

"F-fine. A little warmer than usual, but still comfortable." She tells him as she keeps an eye on me. Probably scared I'm gonna pass out or something. Can't exactly blame her for thinking that.

"Justin?" Brian asks if I'm coming along.

"Fuck off!" I scream. Or...gasp. I would have screamed though, if I still had the lung capacity.

I don't hear a response but I hear him trudging quietly out into the water. That's the nice thing about living in the alcove. No waves.

"What's gotten into him today?" Rory asks, taking a seat beside me.

I glance up at her and chuckle tiredly. "I wish I knew so I could rip it out of him."

When Brian finishes his swim, he picks me up throws me over his shoulder, carrying me into our room. Cynthia had just joined Rory and me, so I can already hear the tongues wagging from here. Not that I care. I'm getting used to it now. Besides, if they aren't getting any, I guess it's only fair that they get to at least talk about it.

As soon as my ass hits the grass mat, I feel Brian attack me, pulling at my shorts and nipping at my bear stomach. He's gonna make good on his promise, I realize. But then, I also realize that where I might be able to get it up, I'd probably pass out if I tried to actually DO something with it.

"Stop," I push his mouth away from where it was about to engulf my half-hard cock. I cannot believe I'm about to say this. "I'm too tired."

Brian sits back and looks at me as if I've just said that I have some horrible contagious disease. "What?"

"I'm tired, Brian. Now go away. Let me sleep." I really do try not to sound like a bitchy housewife with a headache, but I can't seem to keep the frantic annoyance from my voice.

With a look of disbelief, Brian just sits there staring at me for the longest time. Well what else is he gonna do? Go find a trick? A drink? Bury himself in his work? Doubtful. So he huffs and puffs and throws himself back onto the mat beside me, in true drama queen fashion.

Ignoring him completely, I turn onto my side, facing away from him and attempt to sleep. The last thing I'm aware of is his arm wrapping around my mid-section and pulling me against his chest.

***

When I walk outside, I'm hit with this huge wave of dry heat. I'm used to it. It happens every day. But it still manages to take my breath every time. Hopefully it will rain soon so we can have a cool spell.

From where I sit in the doorway, I can see Rory swimming. You can set your watch by that woman. She's in that water by at least seven every morning, swimming her heart out. I save my swim until the afternoon, otherwise I'd sleep my way through the day. But she never seems drained by the activity. If anything she seems revitalized and happier because of it. It probably has something to do with that Cinderella personality of hers.

A few minutes later, who should come running up but Brian and Justin. Wonder where they've been all morning. Off somewhere having a nice LOUD fuck, if I know them. Not that they are quiet here. Some nights, Rory and I just lay there, giggling and mocking them for all the heavy breathing and moaning they do. They hold very little back. Justin especially is a little screamer and I would bet that they are three times as loud if they're off fucking at the waterfall or wherever they go for that type of thing.

But no, today it would seem that they're tired from a completely different form of physical activity. Brian is jogging in place as Justin falls down onto the ground, looking like death. I can hear Brian suggesting they swim, but I'd be willing to bet that Justin won't voluntarily move from that spot for at least an hour.

After a few minutes of idly watching Brian do laps across the lagoon, just as Rory had done mere moments before, I decide to join the other two and plop down on the ground between Justin and Rory. "What's up?" I ask, never taking my eyes off of Brian. Hell, all three of us look like we're watching a really slow tennis match. Our eyes moving left to right and back again, as the long, lean body glides from one side to the other.

Rory finally chuckles and glances at me and then Justin. "Brian's gone nuts."

Justin rolls his eyes and drops back tiredly onto his back once again.

Finally emerging from the water, his shorts plastered wetly to his...body, our topic of discussion strides up onto the beach and says not a word as he scoops Justin up and slings him carefully over his right shoulder, ever mindful of Justin's arm. Still, it looks like some Neanderthal claiming his mate.

There are times, usually at night around the fire, when I catch my boss staring at his younger lover with such fierce passion and burning intensity. I half expect him to point to the boy and growl "MINE!" But alas, he never does.

I'm willing to bet that Brian still thinks he's only with Justin because they're stuck here together. Silly man.

With Justin and Brian finally inside, Rory and I are free to enjoy the day in peaceful silence.

Yeah...right.

The second they're inside, Rory snorts a laugh. "What's the count up to now?"

"Are we talking raw total? Because for that I would need a calculator."

"What do you think they would do...if not each other?"

I shrug, trying to imagine my boss going without sex for any amount of time. But...I can't. The sight would be just too gruesome. Sex is like his power source. Without it, it would seem that he would dry up and look like some dirty old perv, his eyes wide and an insane leer plastered on his face.

I shake my head, clearing it of the image and hope that I won't have nightmares with the sexless Kinney zombie as the star any time soon.

"Hey! What are you doing?"

It takes me a second to realize that Rory isn't talking to me, but to Neil, who is limping steadily towards the water.

"Going for a swim," he replies, sounding a little surly. Well it's an improvement. Once upon a time, he was the type of guy that would have flipped you off if he was in no mood to answer you. But I think he's actually trying to make an effort not to alienate anyone. Especially after Brian's big show of making him help us get food. He even has our beloved pilot cooking once a week. Kind of worried about being poisoned, but hell...after Justin's little ‘mistake', I don't think Neil could find anything that could fuck us up faster than those damn berries.

"What about your ankle?" Rory asks, always the mom.

Neil glares at her openly, "If I don't have some type of bath soon, I'm gonna be sick. I reek and I feel like I'm covered in ten layers of dirt and sand."

"Ohhh...can the dramatics," I groan, receiving a warning glance from Rory. Oh yeah. I forgot. Her ‘can't we all just get along' campaign.

Anyway, Neil ignores me as always and limps towards the water, now trying to shed his clothes as he goes. Now...the man is a dickhead. We all know that. It's not some big secret or anything. But there is no way I can possibly deny that he has a fucking fabulous body. Cut in all the right places, he is toned to perfection and dare I say it - drool-worthy in his physical beauty. Yes, yes...his attitude tends to dampen his gorgeous features, but when he isn't speaking or, well, generally conscious in any way, he's a near-perfect male specimen.

"Should we help him?" I ask as we watch him grimace. He's probably put too much weight on his ankle again while struggling through the shallow lagoon.

Rory scoffs. "Absolutely not. If the dumbass wants to get himself drowned, then let him."

I have to laugh at this. Rory is just so un-Rory-like sometimes. She can be so amusing when she gets mad.

"And besides, if he drowns, we can totally move into his room and maybe actually get some sleep at night without having to hear the soundtrack of National Geographic's mating rituals."

"Ohhhhhh BRIAN!" I moan in a near-perfect imitation of Justin.

Rory of course takes Brian's part with an equally loud groan. "Uhhhh! Hmmm! YESYESYES! JUSTIN!"

We collapse in a fit of giggles as we tend to do until we both realize that Neil is staring at us as if we've gone mad. This only makes us laugh harder and soon we're wiping tears from our eyes.

Neil watches this with an amused smirk, despite his obvious discomfort, and for our benefit mutters, "Women."

***

Cynthia and I are lying beneath the sparse shade of a palm tree when Justin finally meanders back outside. He looks fresher and in better spirits than he did the last time I saw him this morning.

"Better?" Cynthia asks him, a knowing smirk on her face.

Justin shakes his head, looking a little annoyed. He was always like that in the morning. He would come into work looking like he was ready to kick ass and take names, but once he had a little more time to wake up, he would usually turn into a pussy cat.

"Not everything is about sex, Cynth," he replies with only a small edge of anger in his voice.

Cynthia takes his reaction with a grain of salt. "Says you," she jokes.

Justin rolls his eyes but a small smile is not playing on his lips. Dropping to his knees in front of us, Justin runs his fingers through the sand making intricate patterns. "Brian's still napping," he says, trying to sound casual. As if I, of all people, couldn't read through that lead in. He seems to forget just how well I know almost all of his little signs and signals.

"What's up, boss?"

He looks at me and shrugs, his mouth pulling to the left in a lop-sided grimace. "Have either of you noticed him acting weird lately?"

Where to begin?! "Weird how?"

"Define weird," Cynthia adds.

"I just think..." Justin trails off as he finally notices Neil limping up the beach.

Our esteemed pilot has been limping all over the place today. Up the beach. Down the beach. Through the water. Around the house. Around us. He's testing his ankle. Guess he figures if he works with it, the break will mend sooner. Personally I think he's just going to hurt himself further. But a guy like Neil would never listen to advice from someone like me. So I keep my mouth shut and my eyes open.

Justin's arm however is getting better, I realize. He hardly ever complains of pain anymore. It seems to be more mobile lately, though I doubt he's noticed. Another few weeks and he'll probably be able to get rid of the homemade splint. Which is good, since we're running out of sources for the padding.

Anyway, after Neil passes by us and turns toward the house, Justin resumes the conversation. "I just think that there's more to it than just weird sleeping patterns."

"Weird sleeping patterns?" I ask. This is the first time I've heard of it and from the confusion on Cynth's face, I'd say she's in the same boat.

"He's been staying up a lot lately. Like...he just can't go to sleep. I figured it was a little insomnia. No big deal. But he's just been acting...strange. Stranger than usual. Like with the whole exercise thing this morning. For nearly two months now, exercise has been building, water runs, the occasional swim... Not twenty-mile marathons."

"Maybe he just got an exercise bug. I get those a couple of days a month, when I want to be all healthy and do yoga and shit," Cynthia explains. "But it doesn't last long."

"Yeah, but Brian's always been the type to want to stay in shape, for appearance sake if nothing else. But...who does he need to look good for here? What's with the sudden turnaround?"

Neil, who has completed a lap around the house, is passing beside us once again and as soon as he is a few feet away, he says quite clearly as though he had been there for the entire conversation, "Sounds like a mid-life crisis to me."

I see Cynthia and Justin look at one another, a light dawning in their eyes. "D-Day!" they both exclaim and I have to wonder what I'm missing out on here. D-Day?

"That would be...?"

Justin laughs, "Death day!"

"The DARK day," Cynthia says cryptically.

"Day of disturbance."

"Dreary day-o-doom."

"Drunken day of disorderly damnation."

"Ohhh...good alliteration," Cynthia giggles and smiles at Justin.

Taking a wild stab in the dark here... "Is it his birthday?"

"Ding-ding-ding!" Justin rings an imaginary bell indicating that I am indeed correct.

"So...I take it he doesn't exactly love birthdays?"

The other two look at me with disbelief in their eyes. As if they hadn't realized before how clueless I must actually be. But it's not like I've taken Brian 101 like everyone else in the world seems to have. Maybe it was a required course in the Pittsburgh school system.

"Wow. That has to be the biggest understatement I've ever heard," Justin laughs.

Cynthia nods in agreement. "Definitely." She turns to me, looking like she's about to spill some extra special dirt. "Brian is completely against birthdays in every way, shape and form."

"Loathes them," Justin adds. "Hates them with the fire of a thousand flaming queens!"

"One would be lucky if he even acknowledges the day at all."

"So...I'm thinking," Neil adds, suddenly standing right beside where I'm sitting. I take my eye off the guy for two seconds... "We should have a party for him."

I can tell that he's just being his usual antagonistic self and doesn't mean a word, but now there's an air of mischief sparkling in Justin's eyes and it worries me. I've only seen that look one other time. When he set me up with the man that was destined to be my most recent ex-boyfriend. Justin had gotten it into his head that I needed someone in my life outside of work and had ordered me to go on a blind date with one of his friends from his PIFA days. The guy was several years my junior, but we hit it off and dated for almost a month before he realized that I wasn't tortured enough for his oh so artistic soul. What-ever!

Anyway, I just know that Justin's mind is working overtime, thinking of ways to pull off the suggested party.

"Don't!" I warn him, receiving looks of confusion from Cynthia and Neil. "Don't start trouble Justin."

Cynthia's eyes widen to the size of golf balls when she finally realizes what's happening. "Justin...you are insane if you think he'll let you get away with this. He'll probably string you up and then kick all of our asses just for fun."

Justin shrugs. "What's the big deal? I think a party would be fun."

Finally Cynthia must see some sense in the whole thing because she giggles and shakes her head, "I'm in. But only because I need the entertainment."

"Fine. And who's to say it would be a birthday party?"

Cynthia giggles even harder, "Brian, when he totally denies you any sex for like the next year!"

I have to agree with Cynthia. Brian just doesn't seem like the type that will just bend his whole belief system just because we're stuck here. If he hates birthdays, and the parties that inevitably accompany them, then I just don't see how this can play out well at all. And I tell Justin this.

"Rory...what are you doing tonight?" He asks. Has he gone mad? What am I doing? What are any of us doing? The same thing we do EVERY night, Pinky! Try not to go insane from boredom! "Nothing, correct?"

I nod, already knowing where this is going. Crap. Why do I feel like we've just become the cast of Gilligan's Island? There's not a doubt in my mind that this is going to blow up in our faces, but...what else are we gonna do?

I glance at Neil, who is once again up and walking around. What a total hit and run on his part. He should totally fry for this along with the rest of us. I'll see to it.

"So...when did you wanna have this shindig anyway?"

***

I cannot believe she talked me into helping with this bogus party! That Little Mary Sunshine routine is so completely false. The woman is a ball buster if I've ever seen one!

So...I'm still trying to figure out how she did it. One minute I'm walking around, making progress with my stiff ankle and then next thing I know, she has me backed up against a tree, my dick ready to explode from the close proximity.

Hey! I'm a man - she's a woman! In my mind that's all it would TAKE at this point!

But she tells me in no uncertain terms that I would be helping and I would like it. Somehow I put the whole idea in Justin's head so I have to take an active role in the party so if Kinney kills one, he kills us all. I just can't figure out how it's my fault. The little princess didn't have to listen to me! Geez! It was a joke! They should all know better than to listen to me.

Ironically...I think I might actually enjoy this party. What could be more fun than seeing Kinney turn that nice angry shade of maroon before he tears into his favorite butt buddy? And not in the usual way that keeps me up at night with their screams. Maybe I'll get to see a little bloodshed tonight.

So, maybe this party won't be such a drag after all.

***

After waking up from my nap this afternoon, Justin insisted that we take a walk. He wanted to grab some fruit for tonight since it's his night to cook. I made him promise not to pick any berries and got the desired reaction. He stuck out his tongue and I sucked it into my mouth so fast he didn't even know what hit him.

Instead of it leading to a nice quick fuck like I was looking forward to, he just smiled and walked away, so damn sure that I was gonna follow along. The sick thing is, I did! I'm turning into some sort of...dare I say it...HUSBAND!

Okay. Forget I just thought that. No, no, no, no. That's just a sick, sick thought that has more to do with the fact that I'm turning...a year older today. That's all.

I'm beyond thankful that Justin and Cynthia have forgotten what day it is. This way I can just let it slip past without a word. I can turn...ugh...thirty-eight...and no one will be any the wiser. Just the way I like it.

When Justin has all the fruit he can carry, stored in his backpack, I turn to go back. He puts his hand on my arm and I turn back to look at him. "What is it?" I ask, seeing an unfamiliar look in his eyes. "Something wrong?"

"No. I just wanted to tell you..." He trails off, which is a good thing because I think I know what he was about to say. And...I wanna say it first this time.

"I know. I love you too, Justin."

The sheer size of his eyes at this point is enough to have my doubled over in laughter, but I know he probably wouldn't appreciate that reaction. So I just smile and kiss his forehead.

"Wha...," is all he manage verbally.

What can I say? It's a cliche, but being in a plane crash, stuck out here so far away from everyone I care about - well, almost everyone - tends to make you see what's important. And though I'm not supposed to believe in love, I realize now, just how ridiculous my whole speech was. ‘I don't believe in love, I believe in fucking.' Please! I wanna roll my eyes just thinking about it.

Funny how when your world gets whittled down to five people, a tiny island and a bed of leaves, just how different your views on damn near everything become.

Justin is still struck dumb, so I reach back and take his hand, leading him back to the house. I think it's time I made good on that bet from this morning.

All hopes of that are dashed when we return to see a huge bonfire and seashells strung from every surface imaginable.

"Surprise!" Rory and Cynthia call out, jumping up from where they were seated and running to hug me. I notice that they do so, cautiously and with a quick look at Justin. I receive their hugs and birthday wishes with a tight smile on my face, but all I can think at this point is that Justin is behind this. He remembered. The really scary part is that I'm pleased that he remembered.

"You are sooooooo gonna get it," I growl in his ear, causing him to shiver.

"Don't be mad," Cynthia starts when she sees the intense look on my face. "It wasn't all Justin's idea. In fact…it was all Neil's idea!" My fiery little assistant exclaims, pointing at the accused. Neil glares openly at Cynthia and it's all just too funny. I can't help but laugh. On the inside of course.

"Are you?" Justin asks quietly, wanting to know the extent of my anger.

I want to say yes, but I know that will crush Justin, who probably actually believes he's doing something that will make me happy in the end. So I shake my head, but say nothing more as I take a seat on the log facing out towards the ocean. I continue my silence for the next hour, just letting everyone chat nervously around me.

I'm trying to decide if I'm REALLY upset about this or not. I mean…is this just another old belief that no longer has any validity in this new life? After all, it's just a little party – why should my…age come into it? It's just something for everyone to enjoy. I should actually LET them enjoy it. And maybe work on enjoying myself as well.

WHAT THE FUCK AM I TALKING ABOUT?! This is D-DAY! Geez! Don't tell me I'm getting soft in my...quasi-old age! It's just not right, celebrating the deterioration of your body and mind. Especially if it's MY body and mind!

"Were you planning on actually doing anything or are we going to just sit staring at the fire like we do every damn night?" I snap so abruptly, that I have to grab Justin to keep him from falling off the log from shock.

"Oh…oh sure! What do you want to do? We can do anything you want! You're the...birthday boy after all." He's so quick to jump in and appease me. That might come in handy later. After all, if he's gonna put me through this, then I'm gonna have some fun dammit!

"How about pin the tail on the pilot?" Cythia suggests, batting her eyes mockingly at Neil, who rolled his eyes but remained silent.

Ya know, I might not mind the guy so much if he just spoke every now and then. He's just too damn quiet. Quiet people make me nervous. It's been my experience that the quieter the person is, the more the person is hiding. Why the fuck was he invited to my party anyway?

"What about truth or dare?" Justin suggests.

We play truth or dare all the damn time. It's almost to the point that I know a little TOO much about the people around me. But I nod in agreement. The sun has already disappeared on the horizon so now there really isn't much else to do anyway.

"Neil - you start."

I arch an eyebrow at Rory for that grand suggestion. Is it possible that she's smitten with the asshole? Some girls like that type, I'm told. But...Neil? Ew!

Although...she is the only one of us that he's halfway civil to. I'm really gonna have to watch those two. I'm all for getting needs met, but I trust Neil as far as I can throw him and there's no way I'm gonna let him fuck with one of the girls. Not on my watch.

Neil takes a minute to think of a question and then smiles at no one in particular. "This is for everyone." He's met with a collective groan and we wait for him to go on. "What do you miss most?"

Suddenly everyone is very still. Very quiet. Cynthia bites her lip and pulls her legs up to her chest. Rory frowns and her forehead creases as she struggles to wrap her brain around the question. Justin winds his arm through mine and I let him move closer so that he might as well be sitting on my fucking lap. I myself ponder the question honestly.

Justin rests his head against my shoulder and sighs, "My family and friends. Mom, Mol, Deb, Vic, Ted and Em, Ben, Hell...even Michael and my dad!" he ends with a small sad smile.

Cynthia is next. She too sighs loudly. "I miss painting my nails. And Chinese food. And going shopping. And my apartment with its non-existent heating and loud-ass neighbors that kept me up until two in the morning playing freaking calypso music."

Rory nods and laughs softly. "I miss chocolate and curling up on the weekend with a good book or an old movie."

After a few minutes of silence, Justin nudges me. "I miss Starbucks!" I add and that's all they'll get out of me.

"JESSIE!" Rory cries out, startling us all.

"Who?" Cynthia asks, her hand over her jump-started heart.

"I was just thinking...I miss Jessie. My goldfish," she explained, her smile fading, "who's probably belly-up by now, huh?"

I so want to laugh. But I know it would be in bad taste. Still... A snigger escapes and soon everyone is laughing their asses off. I wonder if it's the sun that has fried our brains, or if we're just so hard up for entertainment, that everything has become hysterical.

From that point on silence rules the night. Everyone is now consumed with thoughts of what they're missing out on. What they never said to their loved ones. Things they may never get the chance to say.

So after we've all eaten our fill, Justin having made a surprisingly decent dish of roasted eel and bananas, I thank the girls...AND Neil, when told that he helped, and excused Justin and myself, unable to continue with the ‘party' for another second.

Safe in our room, I pull him into my arms, instinctively knowing that he needs comfort. "Sorry if your party was ruined. Fuckin Neil." His forehead is resting on my chest and I lean down to kiss the top of his head.

"I actually enjoyed it." He looks up at me, his disbelief obvious. "No really. What better to take everyone's mind off the fact that it's my...birth..day.. Than to make them think about their OWN tragedies."

I almost expect him to get huffy and indignant that I'm happy he had to think about something sad. But he knows just as well as I do that we ALL have those thoughts anyway. They never really leave you. I know I'm constantly thinking what Mikey would say to this or that, or how Gus would react to things like the wildlife here. It's just the fact that we never voice these thoughts that made tonight's truth all the more difficult.

"Know what else I miss?" Justin asks, draping his arms around my neck.

"What?"

"Dancing." He kisses my chest. "At Babylon." His tongue brushes my Adam's apple. "With you." His lips find mine and I begin to sway automatically to an undefined beat. I feel him smile against my mouth and I pull him even closer to me until we're both moaning from the pressure of our warring hard-ons.

"Know what I really miss?" Justin looks up at me, waiting for a patented Kinney response. Who am I to disappoint my dear lover? "Your dick up my ass."

My eyes follow him as he begins to strip me. Looks like I'm finally gonna get to honor that bet after all.

Happy Birthday to me!

To Be Continued in Journal #5...