Archive of Our Own

Late February

The darkness outside their windows was impenetrable at five-twenty in the morning, and Ben yawned mightily as he pulled on his sweats.

Qui was already waiting in their main area clad in his uniform pants, t-shirt and thick socks. He had cleared the space in front of their couch.

"Good morning," said Qui. "Thought we might start with some basic stretches."

Ben mumbled a vague acquiescence, yawned again as he took his place next to Qui. He felt sluggish from the early rising, but several minutes of slow stretches finally got his blood to start moving.

“Okay, basic Yang 24 solo form, side by side. Ready?”

Ben nodded as he rolled his shoulders and then let them sink.

Qui stepped in close and trailed one finger lightly down Ben’s cheek. “It’s not a lesson so keep it simple, boyo. Just do it, don’t be thinking about it.”

“Got it.” Ben smiled, a slightly smug hook to the right corner of his lips. After all these months of practice, he knew he could handle this.

Ben held the opening position, slowing his breathing and gathering his center as Qui moved to assume his own starting place on Ben’s left. Together they counted down in soft voices, “Three… two… one.”

As one, Ben and Qui launched into the first movement of their Tai Chi session. Arms swept upwards to begin Parting the Wild Horse’s Mane. As Ben shifted weight into the Wild Crane Spreading Wings, however, he caught glimpses of Qui from the corner of one eye and moved his head, breaking his concentration and pace ever so slightly as his heartbeat leaped.

“Slow and easy, Ben,‘tis not a race. Keep mind and body in harmony,” came a soft murmur from his right that made Ben flush and force his attention back to the exercise, chagrined at his distraction. He focused on his center and within a few movements was back on track. By the time they reached Grasp the Bird’s Tail, he was fully immersed again. His serenity was not disturbed even when he felt a ghostly hand sweep near his head during the Single Whip High Pat on Horse.

Two sets of legs moved, arms swept and bodies turned. Seamless kicks, legs high, balancing as if the very air supported them.

Form by form they worked through the routine, unconscious grace as they moved to the Parry and Punch, then arms raised to allow the shift to the final crossing of hands and melting into the close. Arms hung loosely at their sides, mirroring their starting positions.

Ben held his position, eyes closed as he took several slow, deep breaths. The warm, soft energy pulsing inside him felt good.

“Nice job.”

Ben blinked, opened his eyes. “Thanks. Sorry about that break near the beginning. I’ll keep working on it.”

“It happens. That’s why we keep practicing. In any event, thanks for getting up so early. 'Twill be a lovely thing to remember and keep me warm when it's cold up in those mountains." Qui grinned. "This and last night, of course."

Ben smirked back at him, thinking of the long session of love-making the previous evening. "Yeah, that was wicked good sex, even if it did have all that damned foreplay." He stepped back quickly as Qui took a mock punch at him.

"Someday you'll be learning to truly appreciate a 'slow hand' as more than a means to getting my cock up your sorry arse, boyo. Or vice versa."

Ben watched as Qui put on his boots and the rest of his uniform, then stuffed a few last things in his small field pack.

"We'll be up in the furthest bits of the forest and mountains, likely much too far out for me to call you, but I'll be thinking of you." Qui gathered Ben in his arms for a kiss and tight hug. "Be good while I'm gone."

Ben laid his head against Qui's chest, listening to his heartbeat. "I know it's your job, but I still wish you didn't have to be away so long."

"Aye, ten days is going to seem longer than usual for me, too," said Qui softly, "but we've got a tremendous lot of back country to be covering that doesn't get looked at nearly as often as we'd like." He tilted Ben's head up for another kiss. "I'll be getting some days off after I'm back, and we can make up for lost time then. Promise I’ll work on the Pushing Hands with you then, too."

"I'll hold you to that. Stay safe."

They made a little space between them and took a moment for each to touch two fingers to the pendant the other wore on a silver chain as a silent affirmation of their love – Ben's silver Claddagh and Qui's silver skeleton key with the small heart scored into it.

Ben smiled gamely as he let his hand drop and stepped back, but his sigh was deep as their door clicked closed behind his mate.

It was Monday, a day off he had traded for working the coming Saturday so he could relax after spending much of the weekend with Qui before his ranger headed off for the horseback and ski investigation of distant parts of Keogami Park. It was still dark outside, the clock barely ticked over from six a.m.

Another yawn sneaked out. Ben decided there was nothing urgent he needed to do, so he went into their bedroom, took his clothes off and got back in bed. He reached for Qui's pillow and pulled it close as he fell asleep.

After he woke the second time and showered, Ben wandered up to the kitchen a little after eight. He glanced at their family calendar and saw that Rafa had classes at the university today.

"Good morning, Ben." Jane looked up from her planning book. "Qui get off okay this morning?"

"He did. Left about six." Ben poured himself a cup of coffee from the pot on the stove. "Got any chores you need help with today? I don't feel like just sitting around."

"There's always something needs doing in a big old house like this." Jane smiled. "But if you've a mind to, some of us are going over to pick up furniture and fixings to take to the church lending closet. Maria Divire's husband passed on and she's moving in with her son's family in Arizona. Doesn't want to take most of her things, just what she feels sentimental about like the china and such, so she wants the rest to go to the church. Be leaving at nine, so I'll fix us breakfast before we go."

"I'd be happy to help."

Late that night, Ben finally fell into bed. It had turned out to be a long day, loading furniture and boxes from the modest three-bedroom house and then unloading and sorting everything at the warehouse Jane's church shared with some of the other independent churches. Tired, yes, but also full of good food and warmth inside from doing a good deed – Ben slept well that first night.

*** ***

The next few days weren't too bad. The first day at work was slow but Ben kept himself busy at night cleaning up the basement, doing laundry and whatever other chores he could think of in the piece of the house he shared with Qui. He thought perhaps he had dreamed of Qui, but the images slipped away with the morning alarm. He checked his calendar every night, putting a big 'X' to mark the passing of twenty-four hours.

Wednesday was bright sunshine and dry roads, so Ben treated himself to riding Myrna to work instead of taking the bus. About eleven that morning, Billy Delmar and his brother Jansen came in to meet with Frank Mendoza, Ben's boss. Ben knew they did special paint and chrome work for some of Frank's projects and wondered if something new was up since the projects they had in house either didn't need or weren't ready for the type of work the Delmar brothers did.

“Ben, come join us in the conference room.” Frank had a small box, large tube and two folders under one arm. The Delmars trailed behind him, each with a laptop case slung over a shoulder.

They went out the bay door and down a hall to the smaller room used for customer meetings. A rectangular wooden table had eight chairs around it, a computer for presentations and a large screen on one wall. A counter held a coffee machine and accessories.

“Okay, here’s the situation,” said Frank as everyone settled into a chair. He plugged a thumb drive into the computer and fiddled with the controls as Billy pulled out a large laptop and what Ben thought might be a small camera.

“We’ve got potential projects for Helmut and Sarah Gerhardt, from down near Laramie. There are two pieces of work they've asked about, both involving specialty paint.” Frank brought up a slide that showed the inside of a garage with a partially dismantled motorcycle and boxes of parts and pieces. “The first project is this mess. Sarah’s father worked on motorcycles as a hobby and the last project he had started before he died was to convert that ’97 Electra Glide touring bike with the motor trike conversion kit. Sarah wants us to finish the conversion and make that her personal bike.” Frank passed the box to Billy. “She wants the main body to be the same color as that scarf,” he waited a moment as Billy pulled out a vibrant red silk length, “and she wants the gas tank to be that medium pearl blue from that jewelry box, with the Harley logo on the tank in the same red.”

“How much chrome does she want?” asked Jansen.

Frank took a sketch from one of the folders. “She had a friend do a mock-up of what she’s looking for. The chrome is supposed to be the dark silver bits.”

“Hmm, not too bad. Pretty conservative, actually.” Jansen looked up at Frank. “What’s the other part?”

Frank switched to a new slide showing a black 2004 Road King. “That’s currently her main bike. Helmut and Sarah wanted it thoroughly overhauled, cleaned up and then painted ‘new copper penny color with deep black highlights’.” He grinned as he passed over a second sketch. “It’s going to be a wedding present for their son in June and apparently that’s his favorite color.”

“Wedding present, huh?” Billy raised one eyebrow.

“Yeah, Helmut said the fiancée has a Road Glide in electric blue and they want their boy to have a proper long-trip machine to replace his old street bike.”

Jansen grinned. “Sounds like a good match. So what’s on for today?”

“Helmut and Sarah are going to be here about 1:30. We need to be able to give them a first rough estimate on feasibility, potential costs and how much time and labor. I visited them last week so I’ve seen both bikes and did a first once-over on their conditions. I thought Ben and I would look at the mechanical stuff if you guys could talk about the chrome and paint parts. I’ve got the specs and dimensions here in this other folder and some big images on sheet paper in the tube.”

“Sure thing.” Billy began setting up a small light box and tripod while Jansen pulled out his laptop. “This'll give me a chance to practice with our new gizmo for color matching.”

For the next few hours Frank and Ben worked through Frank’s notes and the technical information to sort out a big picture of time, labor and materials. The Delmar brothers had their part written up by noon and went out for lunch; Frank had sandwiches brought in so he and Ben could keep working.

Ben was thrilled that Frank was taking extra time to include him in the initial planning. It was the first time he had been asked to participate this early in what could turn out to be a significant piece of work, and he was happy to learn more about how to look at the business end of a job.

“That seems like a lot of labor hours for the conversion, sir. Are those difficult to do?”

“Not from scratch if you’ve got a full kit and working bike. That's usually very straightforward.” Frank brought up the slide on the screen that showed the ‘mess’ of bits and pieces. “Sarah told me her father hadn’t gotten very far on the project and had been increasingly absent-minded toward the end until he had his last heart attack.” Frank pointed to open boxes and loose parts on shelves in the picture. “The first thing we’re going to have to do is a complete inventory of all that stuff plus make sure the bike itself is in good mechanical condition. I suspect we may have to track down some missing odds and ends – I found a complete parts list plus documentation and downloaded those so we’ll have a starting point. Probably be a good chunk of grunt work, so I emailed Mattie, and she said she could give us some hours on weekends and during spring break to help out.”

“Got it. And it will be good to work with Mattie again.” Ben was pleased that their college intern might be coming in; if nothing else he wanted to hear how she was doing in her engineering program. “What’s this miscellaneous labor hours over here?”

“That’s a spot for stuff that might come up, and it covers some of the hours I’ve already put in. If we get the job, I’ll be able to recover some of my prep work. If we don’t, I still like to track hours that we’ve spent trying to get new work as part of the cost of doing business. Tony tracks a lot of that type of thing also, since a ton of his staff’s hours go to trying to make sales that don’t always pan out. Every bit of info about non-revenue generating costs is fed into the annual business planning.” Frank grinned. “You ever want to get a brownie point from Margaret, ask her to explain the business model and cost/profit tracking. She loves that sort of thing.”

“Oh. I guess I’ve never really thought about that kind of stuff.” Ben swallowed, gave a small shudder. “I think I’ll pass on talking to Margaret for now, though.”

Frank laughed, a knowing twinkle in his eyes. There were few people who willingly ventured into the domain of the steelyeyed co-owner of Midway Motorcycles.

By 1:25, estimates had been put on the room’s computer and paper copies printed, a fresh pot of coffee and plate of cookies were ready and the Delmars had mock-ups of both the trike conversion and Road King in the requested colors loaded on their laptop. Frank had gone out front to meet the clients.

At 1:30, Frank ushered in two people who looked to be in their late 50s. The woman was tall, about five-feet-eleven, and the man about five-nine, both with athletic builds. They wore serviceable jeans, but Ben recognized the fine quality of their western style shirts when they took off their jackets. After a round of introductions, everyone settled around the table.

Ben sat back and watched for the next hour as Frank led the discussion. They first agreed on the parameters of the job, and Sarah mentioned that they had already looked at a couple of other places for the work, but had decided to add Midway as a candidate after a friend in their riding club showed them his bike.

“We were pretty impressed with that ’76 Sportster you restored for Brink Hutton,” said Sarah. “Solid piece of work and Brink said you were a straight shooter, so we want to hear your proposal before we make a final decision.”

“Appreciate the recommendation. Let me start with the Road King, since that’s pretty straightforward, and you’ve got a deadline to meet.”

Frank handed out copies of what would be covered in the mechanical workup. He made it clear that the customer would get a complete report and option to replace or not replace parts before they moved to fix anything, with costs being contingent on what was found on the bike. Frank had also worked up what he thought were the most likely issues based on his test ride, age and condition of the Road King and probable costs.

When Frank handed the lead over to Billy Delmar, they switched the video cable over to his laptop. As he gave the Gerhardts paper copies, Jansen brought up their mockup on the big screen.

Helmut leaned back in his chair and whistled. “Damn, you caught the exact color Junior’s always going on about! And the detailing, there’s some nice touches there, too.”

Sarah nodded, an eyebrow raised in appreciation, and moved things on to talk about cost and schedule.

The next phase took longer as there were more details to sort out for the older bike and the condition of the partial trike conversion, but both Helmut and Sarah liked the pictures the Delmars had made of what the final product should look like.

Ben made himself useful refilling coffee cups and cookies as the talks went on. He filed away little nuggets about how Frank dealt with the customers, making sure they agreed on the requirements and understood where some of the costs were only tentative until they could get the machines in the shop for a closer look. Sarah was far more aggressive in her questioning and the trike conversion was obviously a project close to her heart, but Frank was respectful and thorough in addressing her issues while keeping an eye on what Helmut seemed concerned about. He made a note of how Frank used his partners and their special expertise to support the pitch, making sure they had ample opportunity to be heard and show what value they were bringing.

When they finished talking, Frank took the Gerhardts on a tour of the maintenance bay where the work would be done. After that, they requested fifteen minutes to discuss things by themselves, then asked everyone to come back into the conference room.

“Okay, we’ve made a decision,” announced Helmut as Sarah smiled at them. “We like what we heard from you and about you and we appreciate that you were upfront about where some of the costs could end up higher or lower than the estimate. If you can have the contracts ready in the morning, we’ll be back by ten with the bikes and conversion stuff in a truck.”

Frank waited a beat until the Delmars both nodded. “Can do, sir. We can fax or email you a copy by four today if you want to look things over tonight, and finals for signature will be ready when you get here.”

“Sounds good.” Helmut and Sarah stood up. “Looking forward to working with you.”

There was a round of handshakes and some final comments before the Gerhardts took their folders and headed out. Frank and the Delmars talked for a few minutes before they also left to go back to their office, with a promise to have the final draft back to Frank ASAP.

“That was pretty wicked, sir,” said Ben as he and Frank went back to the bay. “Should be interesting work.”

“Yeah, it did go pretty well, but don’t expect most customers to know exactly what they want when they first come in or to make up their mind that fast. Some of them come back two or three times before they give you an answer yes or no.” Frank shook his head. “We’ve got a pretty good track record, though sometimes it just comes down to cost. But if you respect the customer, be honest about what’s doable or not and work toward what they want instead of trying to sell them what you want to do, then you’ll have a much better shot at getting the job.”

“Yes, sir, I’ll remember that.”

The rest of the afternoon passed swiftly as Ben set up two work areas for the incoming projects while Frank finished up the contracts. There was still a bit of daylight left as he rode Myrna home, humming to himself.

Ben’s good mood continued through dinner and his evening. He decided to get in a good workout, did some weight work and then pushed himself in a long session on the stationary bike. Ben turned in early that night, although he woke up the next morning with a little ache when he automatically turned for a morning kiss and the bed beside him was still empty.

“Just another week, that’s all,” Ben murmured to himself as he disposed of his erection, which seemed to take a little longer than usual. “Just one week and Qui will be back.”

**** ***

Frank and Ben started Thursday morning with a concerted effort to finish up one of Frank's smaller projects so it could be turned over to the customer, one less thing to worry about and another space cleared out before they started the new job. Ben was still doing the final cleanup when the Gerhardts arrived. Billy Delmar pulled into the alley just a moment behind them and went through to park in the lot behind the buildings.

With the help of a couple of the salesmen, Ben did the unloading while Frank and Billy went over the contracts and got everything signed. He had everything neatly arranged in the two work spaces by the time the Gerhardts came out for a final chat.

Frank's first task for Ben was to take the Road King out for a road test. The weather was still holding with dry roads, so Ben took the bike out for an hour for a thorough check. He got a warm buzz inside as he went over his results with Frank – his boss was pleased with his report, especially when he pointed out a few issues that Frank had not caught on his brief test ride the prior week.

That was the last quiet moment until late Friday afternoon, so crammed full of work that Ben was too tired to remember whether or not he had dreamed about Qui. Frank had them tearing apart the Road King and going over it in detail so they could find out if there were any hidden problems. They meticulously examined and laid out every item, putting together a list of things they could fix themselves and parts they would probably need to order, putting big asterisks next to a few parts that might take a while to find or get in. Ben found the work tedious but enlightening as he got another lesson from Frank's seemingly encyclopedic knowledge of parts, suppliers and delivery times. Their final chore on Friday afternoon was to take their first results and add tentative tasks and dates into Frank's master schedule of projects.

Ben sat back in his chair after Frank made the last entry. "Looks like we should be able to get the Road King finished in plenty of time. They don't need it until June, though, so why the push to have it done by the end of March? That's only six weeks from now."

"Couple of reasons, Ben. First, of course, this job has a specific deadline and I need to leave extra time in case issues come up or there are problems with parts, paint or chrome." Frank pointed to the computer screen. "I've got some time this next month because these other two projects are waiting on parts, which I suspect might also be a problem for the trike conversion. Also, in April is typically when we start getting requests for spring maintenance for our regulars, especially the ones who store their bikes in our warehouse. Some of our extra summer staff don't come in until May or June, though. Do you see what I'm getting at?"

Ben chewed his lower lip a moment as he thought back to the previous March when he had first started working part-time at Midway; the pace had definitely picked up as they had gotten into warmer weather. "Yes, sir." He nodded. "Get some work done early when you can so you don't have a bunch of stuff stacking up later, right?"

"Good, that's exactly right. It's always a balancing act between work, resources and time." Frank closed down his computer. "Better get some sleep tonight. Mattie's coming in around nine, and we're going to sort out all that stuff for the trike conversion so we can figure out exactly where we stand on it." He stood up and stretched. "Good work this week, Ben."

"Yes, sir, thanks. I always like learning new things and I appreciate the opportunities you've been giving me."

"You've earned them, Ben. Keep going like you have been, and you'll do well. See you in the morning."

*** ***

Maureen's birthday on Friday 27 Feb

Ben went down to his room after washing the evening dishes. He went straight to his desk and turned on his computer. He spared a moment to dial in and check email as he had been doing every evening, even though he knew how totally unlikely it was that Qui had been able to send anything. After a brief sigh, he brought up a folder he had created and checked that all of the new sub-folders were in place. A week ago Maureen had mailed him a flash drive with a bunch of pictures she had loaded for them to chat about tonight, along with a stern admonishment not to spoil the surprise, so he had dutifully copied everything without peeking. He appreciated not having to try to download those on his dialup line and had allowed himself a wistful thought about possibly someday getting a broadband connection if he could ever get the money together.

A beep on his phone reminded him it was almost time to call Maureen. He got comfortable in his chair and dialed her number.

“Hello?”

“Hey, it’s Ben. Happy Birthday! Hope things have been going well for you.”

"Ben! It's great to hear from you. And yes, aside from Father and Lars being their usual pain-in-the-ass selves, things are good. I'm having a great time at school, lots of work but fantastic people and classes." There was a rustling sound in the background. "And I want to thank you for these pictures you sent. The one of you and Qui is lovely and you look so happy together. I like the other one, too - looks like your new 'extended family'." Maureen chuckled. "That was a nice touch, including Myrna and Cel as part of the group."

"Jane thought of that part and she had a photographer friend of hers take the pictures so we could all have our own professional copies. And Qui did the woodwork on those frames."

"I was going to ask about that. The frames are beautiful, and the wood is so smooth and silky. He must be really good with his hands."

Ben had to pause a moment as an involuntary image of ALL the ways that Qui was good with his hands threatened to take over his brain. He promised his cock a handjob later and shoved those images into the back of his mind. "He is, indeed. Before I forget, Qui said to wish you a happy birthday also. He's out on a ten-day patrol in the forest so he couldn't be here tonight."

"You poor thing." Maureen's laugh held more snark than pity. "Ten whole days without that wonderful hunk to warm your bed."

"I'll live." Ben's let his tone veer into a leer. "Maybe not happily for now, but I shall no doubt greatly enjoy our reunion."

"Ooooo, such a naughty boy, but I can't say I blame you. In the meantime, let us while away a bit of your lonely hours talking about my new project."

Ben smiled indulgently. He knew Maureen's habit of picking up new hobbies, pursuing them intently for a while and eventually dropping them. Ben wondered briefly how long this one would last.

"Do tell, do tell, o sister mine. What passing fancy has fired your imagination this time?"

"Scoff if you will, but this is important. In one of my classes last semester, we got off into this big discussion of genealogies and the degree of proof you would need to establish a claim in a disputed will. That got me thinking about our own family, and I decided I wanted to know more about the Lanahan clan."

"What the hell for? Our family is not exactly the most congenial bunch. And don't tell me you signed up for one of those family tree app things."

"Don't be silly." That snort was probably heard in all the states that lay between them. "You have to admit there's been a lot of success generated around or by our matriarch, however. So I decided I wanted to trace her history specifically. And not with some creepy app. I started with basic research until I had an initial picture, then I finally worked up the courage to beard the dragoness in her lair. I hit the jackpot with that one!"

"What?" Ben was speechless for a moment. "What did you do?"

"During the winter break, I got a private appointment with Grandmother Lanahan, literally in her den, explained what I was doing, showed her the package so far and asked if she had any old pictures or stories she would be willing to share. Simple, straightforward. She looked through the albums I had brought for ten minutes, then leaned back in her chair. One eyebrow went up just the littlest bit, she nodded, then she took a key from her desk and handed it over. She said I could look through the family photo boxes, compile a set of the most important ones and she would try to identify people in them if there were no notes. Sooooo, I've spent hours in a dusty old room going through boxes of pictures and have a first cut that I think is pretty damned interesting. That's what on that flash drive I sent you."

"Wait a minute. You waltzed in there and old stone-face gave you access to some private stash, just like that?"

"No, idiot sibling. I put together a buttload of stuff from other sources first to show her I was serious and organized. I did a timeline of every public mention of her and her major business operations, then sold her on wanting to add the personal side. And not only did she like the idea, she wants a copy of my final digital product. So there!"

"Okay, okay, I will concede that you have proven once again that you can charm the scales off a snake." Ben laughed. "I hope it was worth it."

"Actually, it has been kind of a pain in the rear, but yes, I do think it's worth it. And I think you'll be surprised by what I've got so far."

"I'm game. I've got the computer on, so how about we get started?"

"Right. Open folder one and pull up the intro doc. That's got the earliest info from before any pictures were available."

"Got it." Ben began reading the background information. "Let's see, born Hannah O'Brian." He whistled. "Wow, that's still a bad part of Boston even today. Hmm, sisters, brothers… doesn't say anything about school."

"Girls, especially poor ones, didn't get much education back then. She was already working by fifteen. That picture on the second page is a company picture where she was clerking. The one next to it is pretty grainy because I pulled up just her bit and blew it up. It was the only thing I've found so far from before her first marriage."

"Whoa. She was pretty. But her eyes are kind of, I don't know, deep? Steely? Like she was already determined she was going to do something with her life."

"I agree. So far, though, that's the only thing I've found from her early life. Let's go to the next files."

One by one they went through the chronological files.

Ryan Murphy, her first husband at age seventeen. Twelve years older and a forbidding mien. One son who died of influenza at two years old, followed shortly by his father. Newspaper articles about the widow who inherited a thriving dry-goods store.

Patrick Connolly, married to the lovely young widow, but they looked solemn rather than particularly happy in the formal wedding stills. An up and comer in the import-export business. Newspaper articles about a second and third store. Society-page pictures of the couple at parties. Five children in quick succession, three surviving after the youngest girl died in infancy and the second son, who had gone into the military as a career, died in the Viet Nam war. Periodic family pictures, the last few in color. Business page articles, a picture of a beaming Robert, the oldest, in an article announcing that he was heading over to take charge of the new European office of Connolly Enterprises. An obituary of the death of Patrick Connolly in a car crash. Another daughter's obituary, a severe case of dengue fever in South America.

"Jesus, she sure didn't have much luck with kids. Let's see, we're down to Uncle Robert, who's still in Europe running things, and Aunt Erin. Grandmother Lanahan is already looking damned grim in those last family pics."

"Right, but it does get a bit better."

The third folder held Lanahan documents. Color pictures of another wedding – a handsome man in his forties with reddish blond hair, Nolan Lanahan.

"Holy shit! She's smiling to beat all. And wait a minute, this Nolan Lanahan, Grandfather Lanahan, I guess I should call him… damn, in this picture he looks more like Mother than I realized. But I can't get over how happy Grandmother Lanahan looks, not just in the wedding pics but some of these others, too."

"Well, you know family legend says she married Nolan for love instead of money. His name rarely appears in any of the business-related documents I was able to find, so I'm pretty sure Grandmother retained control of things. I tried to talk to Aunt Erin on the phone about it – she was a little vague but seemed to think that was the case."

"Awww, look at this one." Ben grinned. "Mother was a cute baby." He scrolled down several pages. A newspaper article announced the marriage of Eilis Roisin Lanahan to Lars Manton Donal Kennan Junior. "Uh oh, trouble in paradise. Grandmother is looking quite thunderous in these wedding pictures."

"Definitely not happy, so I'm guessing that whatever she has against Father goes back a long way. They still don't get along today, but that's one hornet's nest even I don't have the nerve to stick my nose into."

More business articles, then the apparently now annual holiday family pictures. A few candid shots labeled simply as Nolan and Hannah on the lake, two smiling people in a rowboat. Three more pages and another obituary. Nolan Lanahan, dead of cancer at age fifty-two. A funeral picture, the widow Lanahan with a stern expression. More business pictures and articles, formal family pictures and a recent Chamber of Commerce group shot. Snippets of legal papers reflecting current Connolly/Lanahan holdings.

Ben closed the last file and sat back in his chair with a pensive sigh.

"That's a lot of work you've put into this, Maureen. Nobody ever really talks about most of that stuff. It's one thing to 'know' she had three husbands, but seeing all this makes it seem more real."

"I know. There's more I'm still putting together that I want to talk to her about, but the whole thing has been quite eye-opening. I know she comes across as this old woman of steel who always has to be in control, but I think I'm starting to understand why she puts so much emphasis on blood obligations and taking care of your own. She's lived through a lot and lost a lot of family along the way."

"You're right; it does make you think."

They talked for a few more minutes about Maureen's project before finishing by catching up on each other's doings and Ben wishing his sister Happy Birthday again.

After he ended the call, Ben sat at his desk for a while longer, thinking about family. He wondered what had happened between his father and grandmother so long ago and how that might have impacted his parents. He was glad he had Maureen and glad he no longer had to deal with his brother Lars. Ben pulled out the last set of family pictures Maureen had sent him at Christmas, the first ones in his memory that he did not appear in, and looked at them, pondering how things had worked out with what he had come to think of as his 'old family' and 'new family'. He suddenly felt guilty for never having told Maureen about the package he had received from their father with the restraining order and new will disowning him. He decided it was still better not to get her involved, since there was nothing he could do about it, but that didn't make him feel any less uncomfortable.

With a last sigh, Ben shut down his computer and went to bed.

*** ***

All the pictures he had looked at must have influenced his dreams. Ben woke on Saturday morning with vague memories of weddings, funeral processions and a feeling of perfect normality as he and Qui walked down the aisle together in an empty Cathedral of the Holy Cross in old-fashioned suits with high-collar shirts.

Ben yawned and stretched, trying to make sense of the images that were already fading away. His attention was caught by a much more immediate problem. His morning erection was harder than normal, and it took his best efforts to achieve a rather unsatisfactory release.

"Dammit, Qui better be back on time," Ben muttered as he headed for the bathroom.

The work day was long and dull except for the bright spot of Mattie's presence. Frank handed them a tablet with the list he had created of what should be included for the trike conversion kit – it had spaces to indicate if the item was there or not as well as condition. Ben and Mattie did the inventory while Frank began tearing down the ’97 Electra Glide touring bike. After lunch, Frank started on paperwork to order parts and prepare an update for the owners while Ben and Mattie began cleaning and prepping parts. By the time he left, Ben was tired but happy about the long conversation he'd had with Mattie about her progress in the university engineering program.

Dinner was quiet. Rafa had gone out with Misha and some other friends to a movie, so it was just Jane and Ben for a simple salad and casserole.

Ben had thought he might read for a while to kill time. He plumped up pillows on his bed, settled in and found his place. Twenty minutes later, after re-reading the same page three times, he tossed the library book aside, stood and stretched.

"Damn, this sucks." Ben stared down at the calendar on his desk. "It's only been six days." He sighed fretfully as he put an 'X' in today's date before running a finger across the six blocks already crossed off so far. "Four more to go." He had managed to mostly ignore or bury the growing ache inside so far, but with little else to distract him it was hard to do. He wandered around the basement for a few minutes, thinking about Qui, feeling lonely.

"This is stupid," Ben muttered. "We both knew there would be times we couldn't be together. Suck it up." Their mini-gym in the corner caught his eye. "Yeah, a good workout will help."

Ben quickly changed to sweats. He started with stretches, then cranked up music on Qui's little stereo. Some light weight work first got him warmed up. Ben decided on the treadmill, set it for a moderate slope and resistance, then began running.

Gradually Ben let his body sink into the rhythm of the movement and let the music move him along. Stride after stride, keeping to a steady pace, not even bothering to track the distance. He felt loose and easy and kept going until he felt himself dripping and starting to breathe more heavily. Glancing at the controls, Ben was surprised to find he had covered almost three miles faster than his usual pace.

"Wicked!" Ben grinned. "I've got to remember to do this more often if I'm going to keep up with Qui when the weather turns warmer."

Ben slowed his pace to cool down, stretched again and did a hundred pushups before finally stripping for a long, hot shower. When he finished, Ben felt relaxed enough to read some more before dropping into sleep, snuggled into Qui's pillow.

*** ***

Sunday morning brought another hard erection and falling snow. Ben took care of the first and checked on the second when he went up for breakfast.

"Mmm, smells good," said Ben as he entered the kitchen.

"Bacon and eggs be ready right shortly." Jane nodded toward the other counter. "Rafa's working on waffles if you want some."

"Absolutely. I'll get the table set."

As they enjoyed their meal, Ben looked out through the back windows.

"There were about six inches when I went out to feed Cel earlier," said Rafa. "Supposed to keep going for another couple of hours."

"Okay. I'll start shoveling after lunch if it's stopped."

"That's fine. Rafa and I are going to be at the church for a couple of hours this morning, so lunch will likely be closer to one than twelve."

Ben nodded and helped himself to another piece of bacon, not wanting to think about the fact that the snow eliminated the opportunity to take Myrna out for a spin.

Back in the basement, Ben decided to look at Maureen's pictures again and update his journal. He went through each file slowly, trying to imagine what life must have been like back then. His own memories of Grandmother Lanahan always included her as the stern matriarch, mostly presiding over events at her big mansion in Boston or occasional social events that seemed to include more business associates than family members as the years had gone by. Ben spent extra time looking at the pictures with Nolan Lanahan and wondered what sort of man he had been. Finally, he pondered the several of the recent annual family pictures, Grandmother Lanahan at the center flanked by Robert and Erin with their families, his mother usually further to the right standing behind her three children and his father as far to the edge as possible. He realized he had never really thought about his mother's family and their connections. Even less had he considered his father's relatives - an only child, parents deceased ten years ago, the few remaining cousins had seldom crossed their lives.

Ben diligently set to work trying to sort out his feelings in his journal. He described the new information about his Lanahan lineage, his thoughts about how little he had known or cared about. Eventually he kept circling back to the idea of family, his new relationships and what sort of family he and Qui might have years down the road.

Later that afternoon, Ben felt at loose ends again and was happy to work at clearing snow, cleaning Myrna and helping Rafa in the barn. The barn, however, had many associations with Qui, and he couldn't help wandering up to the second level to sit among Qui's tools and fondle his latest woodworking projects before heading to the house for dinner.

Ben paced around the basement that evening. He had tried to read again and quickly gave that up. His computer, music or joining Jane and Rafa upstairs held no interest for him. Even the thought of working out again or doing a Tai Chi routine left him feeling apathetic. What he wanted was his mate, wanted him fiercely to soothe the ache in his heart.

Every circuit around the rooms seemed to bring another reminder of Qui. His books, the wardrobe where a uniform shirt hung on the door, the Irish music CDs and albums… Ben stopped in front of the case holding Qui's Tai Chi swords, looked up to see the neatly folded silk outfit his lover had worn when he did the sword demonstration. His cock jumped at the memory of those sleek and sensuous movements, and Ben had to turn away.

The bedroom was no better. The bed was full of memories and even the air seemed charged with a faint trace of Qui's scent. He felt hornier than ever.

"Fuck!" Ben kicked out blindly at a black engineer boot near the edge of the bed, and it skittered away into the darkness underneath. "Oh, shit! That was one of my good boots." He stood in place and took several deep breaths before getting down onto the floor.

Ben fished around but couldn't find the boot. He carefully edged further under, stretching out and sweeping his hand across the wooden floor. He shifted and inched in a little more when he felt an edge he couldn't quite grasp. He grabbed the boot by the top and started to back out when the boot banged against an object.

"What the hell?"

Ben threw the boot out before scooching back in. His hand encountered a flat surface, and he worked at getting a better grip. Ben managed to shift around and grasp what felt like a box, shoving it toward the light. It proved to be heavier than he had first thought, but eventually he was able to drag it completely out.

Ben looked at his find. It was a rectangular box about a foot high and a foot and a half long. Bold black handwriting proclaimed the box to be 'Big Dick's Big Boy Toys'.

Ben sat and leaned back against the bed with a huge grin as he recalled the day last fall when they had found the box while cleaning out the basement so they could move in. It was the only time he remembered Jane Brandon to have been flustered by anything; she had given them the box her son Richard had packed away before joining the Marines and fled up the stairs after having asked them to either keep or get rid of it. He and Qui had sawed through the heavy tape, looked inside the box, realized what it contained and decided to put it away for another day.

"Well, well, shall we see what we have here?" He carefully pulled the flaps of the box open and removed the blue handtowel that they had tucked in across the top of the contents before storing it under the bed.

"Hoooly Sheeeeit!"

Although Ben vaguely remembered a little of what the box held, neither he nor Qui had removed anything when they had first briefly opened it, so he wasn't prepared for the cornucopia of neatly packed sex toys he now held in his lap, most contained in clear baggies. He could only stare in amazement for a long moment before tentatively reaching into the box.

"Damn, I don't even know what some of this shit is." He grinned. "But this one even I know about."

Ben pulled out three penis-shaped pieces in various sizes and unbagged them. The largest was at least as big as Qui's cock, made of soft black realistic material around a hard center. The middle-sized one was more flexible with two balls and the smallest, almost seven inches long, was a vibrator.

"Nice." Ben fondled the largest dildo for a moment. "We'll definitely have to try this bad boy out." He felt sparks in his gut at the thought of actually using the toys.

Ben set the dildos aside and began pulling out other items.

"Okay, these must be cock rings… uh, butt plugs, beads, some kind of vibrators." Ben paused. "Must go in your ass, I guess, or maybe this one goes around your balls? Oh, wow, now these are very nice. Heavy leather, and they look lockable." Leather collars, handcuffs, wrist and ankle restraints went on the pile. A hank of soft blue rope followed them. "Kinky stuff."

Ben felt his cock getting very interested as visions of bondage scenes flashed through his rapidly heating brain, even though he had never had reason to explore those sorts of activities before. "Damn, that's just fucking hot." He had to stop for a deep breath and adjust himself before continuing.

"This round thing looks like you stick your cock in it." Ben squinted at a label. "Anal Fleshlight? Worth a try, I guess."

Blindfold, gags, flogger, nipple clamps were removed and examined.

Ben snickered as he pulled out a cage of steel. "I don't think we'll need any chastity devices around here. I'm not sure this one is even big enough, anyway."

"Hey, what's this?" Ben pulled a folded sheet of paper out. "Pisser, it's a list!" He dumped the rest of the box out and began trying to match names to items.

"Sounding rods? Crown jewelry, urethral plugs? Ummm? Must be this stuff." Ben held up some baggies and pursed his lips. "I don't know if I'd want to stick any of this into my cock. Maybe later."

Ben laid out his treasure trove and stared at it after he had mostly matched items to names on the list. He took a deep breath and let it out very slowly.

"My, my, but Big Dick was quite the adventurous little boy."

"You know what, if I can't have Qui here, I can at least have adventures, too," said Ben softly. He licked his lips as another surge of interest from his junior partner made him shift. He ran his hands across various items. "Maybe not too much this first time, though." Ben finally settled on the small vibrator dildo, hesitated a moment over a bright chrome cock ring before passing it up.

"Okay, let's get the rest of you put away before playtime."

Ben carefully repacked the box, closed the top and slid it back under the bed. He gingerly stood up, sternly willing his cock to wait a while. He unscrewed the base of the vibrator – there were no batteries in it, but there was a little label indicating it took size C batteries.

"Shit. C batteries? Do we even have any of those?"

Ben rummaged through their odds and ends drawer in his bureau, even checked all the flashlights they kept downstairs.

"Well, just goddammit. We've got D, AA, AAA, even frigging 9 volts and those dinky little watch batteries." Ben blew out a tight snort. "Alright, maybe Jane has some. She's got all sorts of handy things in the kitchen and utility room."

Ben stopped for a moment to compose himself, took a deep breath, then went up the stairs. He put on his best casual act as he stopped at the door to the family room where Jane was knitting while listening to the radio.

"Excuse me, but I was wondering if you have a couple of size C batteries, ma'am." Inside his head a refrain kept repeating – please don't ask why, please don't ask why, please don't ask why.

Jane stopped her needles and looked at Ben. For a brief moment she raised an eyebrow before smiling. "I'm sure there are some with the emergency supplies. Take a look in the utility room, last cabinet on your right above the dog beds. Help yourself; just let me know if those are the last of the C size so I can get some more." She was clearly trying not to let her smile get too big as she returned to her knitting.

"Yes, ma'am, I will. Thanks."

Ben escaped before Jane could say anything else and made his way to the utility room. Both of the female Rottweilers, Dexy and Delilah, were in their beds. Dexy raised her head, gave a friendly whoof before snoozing again. Ben opened the cabinet and heaved a sigh of relief when he saw several C batteries among the neat stacks of batteries, candles and matches. He took two and made his way back. He stopped very briefly to let Jane know there were still four more of the Cs and willed himself to walk normally down the stairs.

Ben locked the basement door before taking his acquisition to the bedroom. He kicked off his shoes and plunked down on the bed.

"Yes, let's see what this baby does."

Ben eagerly loaded the batteries and closed the cap. He touched the four-position switch and grinned when the dildo began a low purr. He tried out all the positions, a broad smile greeting each change up through high-pitched buzz.

"Hmm, a little early for bed, but what the hell."

Ben went to the bathroom and made quick work of his nightly ablutions. Deciding to err on the side of caution, he took the dildo with him and gave it a wash as well.

He tossed the dildo on the pillow, where it seemed to beckon him enticingly. His nostrils flared as he stared at it for a long moment.

"Let's see if we can't get you going," said Ben slowly, "and get some action here."

Socks came off first. Two hands drew his t-shirt up over his head, fingers lightly trailing the cloth. The shirt was tossed aside to join the socks on the floor. Jeans and boxer briefs were carefully shucked and stepped out of.

Ben pushed the covers aside, turned the lights low, made sure he had a bottle of lube and some small towels ready before he climbed into bed and sprawled on his back.

"Ah, what shall we do with you," leered Ben. He caressed the dormant dildo, letting his fingers trace the curves of the tapered top, the slightly textured ivory-colored sides and the red base.

Ben rolled the dildo in one hand as he let his other hand roam across the bare skin of his chest and belly. He closed his eyes and used his tongue to lick the dildo when he pinched his nipples into round nubs.

Little sparks began jolting his gut when Ben pushed the vibrator switch to the first level. He sucked on the end, shivering a little at the tickling sensations inside his mouth. His free hand moved lower, and he let his fingers ghost across his penis, adding to the growing tingle inside.

"Mmm, feels weird…"

Ben had a sudden thought – his ears had always been particularly sensitive to Qui's attentions; what would this thing do? He took a dollop of saliva and wet his right ear, already feeling a response. Ben put the tip of the vibrator on his ear, letting it shift around the edge and then in.

"Dammnnn!" Ben shot upright as he jerked the dildo away. It felt like a burst of electricity had gone straight to his brain. "Whooo, whooo, whooo." Ben had to take several short, sharp breaths as he let his suddenly racing heart calm down. "That was kind of intense, to put it mildly." He leaned back on his arms a bit longer, finally able to take a deep, slow breath.

"Okay, score a point for the little guy." He shook his head, laughing. "And that was on the lowest setting."

Ben lay back down. Once more he let one hand roam across bare skin as he usually did when he masturbated, but he began touching different parts of his body with the dildo, moving it between its first and middle settings. It was mostly a buzzy, tickly sensation, but he could feel his body responding, sensations building. He felt warmer, the first drops of sweat starting to pop out. His shoulders twitched and he was beginning to breathe with his mouth open. His ticklish spots drew sharp exclamations and he had to move quickly past them lest he wiggle off the bed.

Ben's cock was growing rapidly, already almost to its full length as his free hand massaged it gently. He swallowed and set the dildo aside for a moment so he could grab the bottle of lube. He dispensed a generous squirt into one hand and slicked his cock.

The switch moved back to the lowest setting, Ben gingerly touched the body of the dildo to the middle of his shaft.

"Oooo, ahhh, yeah."

Back and forth he rubbed his cock, the vibrations seeming to penetrate his lower belly and then radiate up his spine. Ben moved the dildo around the head of his now very stiff cock.

"Oh, yeah, oh, that's good."

The dildo moved almost of its own volition to Ben's balls, nestling between the base of his cock and the quivering flesh beneath.

"Yeahyeahyeah… oh, man." Ben gasped out the words as he moaned and shifted around, his legs and hips moving up and down. Blood was thundering and his left eye stung from the sweat that slipped into it.

"Nononono, too soon, dammit."

Ben felt his balls tightening and grabbed his cock, squeezing hard at the base to keep it from going off. He put the dildo down at his side, still buzzing away, as he lay still, squeezed his eyes shut and breathed hard.

Three more breaths sucked in deep and sharply expelled.

Ben opened his eyes and grinned.

"So far, so very damned good." He laughed. "Definitely gonna be more experimenting in the future." His whole body still felt prickly, an itch that needed to be scratched and a neediness in his gut that demanded completion.

Ben grabbed one of the towels and wiped the sweat off his face. The bottle of lube came out again – he poured more on his still rock hard cock with his right hand and a very generous amount into his left hand.

"Huh. How the hell do I do this?" Ben shifted almost onto his front as he reached around to slather lube into his crack. He managed to finally work some of the slippery stuff inside him, using two fingers to stretch and massage his opening.

"That's kind of nice, too," he muttered, "not as big as Qui's fingers," he grinned, "but on the other hand what's going in isn't nearly as big as that frigging monster cock of his."

Ben moved back onto his side so he could get more lube and cover the dildo. He put the tip of the silenced dildo against his anus, then had to wiggle around until he found a comfortable position mostly on his side with his legs spread, where he could control the dildo with one hand and knead his cock with the other.

"Here we go…"

The sensation was a little odd as Ben inched the dildo in. It was harder than Qui's cock, small enough to be comfortable as he worked but still definitely noticeable. Ben kept his breathing even but felt his pulse speeding up in anticipation. When the artificial cock was most of the way in, Ben stopped to savor the sensation of fullness.

Ben ran his tongue around his lips. His erection was like a rod in his hand as he used two fingers on his back hand to slip the control to its first setting.

"Whaaaa…" Ben gasped and tightened his ass around the sudden throbbing as the dildo purred into action.

"Ohhhh, yeah!" Ben moved the dildo slowly in and out as electricity jolted through him.

Moaning, eyes closed, sweat slicking his skin, Ben thrust and pulled out, thrust and pulled out, over and over as his body began thrashing, and his front hand squeezed and stroked. He shifted the angle, and a bolt of lightning shout up his spine.

"HOLY FUCKING SHIT!"

Ben frantically shoved deeper, fighting to find that sweet spot again as his hips bucked and his moans rang in the air.

"OH, GOD! OH, YEAH! OH, FUCK!"

Rolling thunder swept through him and brilliant white lasers lit up his brain as Ben's whole body tightened and hung motionless for a moment before collapsing into a heap.

"Oooohhhhh…" The raspy low moan slipped out as Ben's eyes blinked twice. He drew in a deep breath and slowly let it out. A smile spread his lips.

"Aaaahhh, yeah… that was fucking wicked brilliant."

Ben managed to grab a towel and wiped off the worst of the sweat. He found the dildo where it had slipped from his body and wiped it off as well, reminding himself he needed to give it a proper cleaning in the morning.

"Yeah, little buddy, we definitely gotta tell Qui about you and your friends in the box."

Ben switched off the light, drew up the covers and snuggled into Qui's pillow. He drifted off to sleep with visions of cock rings and collars dancing in his head.

Finis