Date: Sat, 20 Jan 2001 22:15:38 -0500
From: musicfan <musicfan@subdimension.com>
Subject: Where Do We Go 8

Disclaimer:

   The following story is the eighth installment in an on going series
about Stephen Gately from Boyzone and what I imagine to be the story behind
the beginning of his relationship with Eloy de Jong from Caught in the
Act. I have no contact with either person, nor know any of the members of
either group.


     The tour took up most of Stephen's time, especially once they expanded
it to include more venues since they were having record sales.  The boyz
were getting a little tired on tour, but each night the power of the crowd
energized them and kept them going on to the next city, night after night.

     When he got a chance, he would sit down at the desk in his hotel room
and using some Goofy notepaper that he picked up in one of the gift shops,
he'd write off little funny notes to people.  He's send off notes to his
nephews Jordan and Brandon, another for Michelle, and the last one he wrote
each time was to Eloy.  It was a good way to wind down from the show,
though the lads noticed he wasn't hanging out in the bar after the shows.
But he found he would rather come upstairs and sit for a bit, sharing his
day with the people he cared about but seldom had time to see.

       He finished off his letter to Eloy and sat back in the chair.
Stretching his legs out in front of him, he closed his eyes and tried to
picture Eloy opening up the mail and reading it.  A smile crept onto his
face, and he hoped that Eloy was enjoying them and not getting annoyed by
them all.  Each time he sent one off, it was with a silent wish that it be
taken in the spirit it was given.  He hadn't had a chance to talk to
anyone, since once again, he had trashed his mobile and was waiting for a
replacement.  Barrie joked that he was the only person he knew who could
manage to get it trashed within a week of getting it replaced.  But that
was how he actually got himself started on writing the notes, using the
mobile as an excuse for writing instead.

        Yawning, he looked at his watch.  He thought about going
downstairs, but the lethargy that he felt convinced him otherwise.  He got
up, stripped out of his robe and went into the bathroom to wash.  He had
been so focused in what he wanted to write that he hadn't even taken his
customary shower first.  Turning on the shower, he grabbed his bathroom kit
and placed it on the edge of toilet seat where he could reach it easily.
He sighed as he climbed over the high edge of the tub, the hot spray
hitting his head and running down his back.  Reaching out, he grabbed his
shampoo from his kit and squirted the bottle onto his head.  He put the
bottle on the shelf and worked his hair into a lather.  He flashed back to
a similar time in the shower from a few weeks ago as he closed his eyes,
except it was Eloy's fingers scrubbing his head.  He got a warm feeling in
the pit of his stomach.  Breathing a little ragged, he kept his eyes closed
and imagined Eloy's fingers tracing down from his head along his chest,
teasing a nipple on the way down to his stomach.  A gasp escaped from his
mouth as his hand lingered, lightly brushing the pubic hair at the base of
his stomach.  He felt himself get hard and his fingers hesitated slightly
before encircling his penis.

        Leaning against the shower wall, he stroked himself, listening in
his mind to the soft words that Eloy had murmured when they were together.
His breathing was more harsh as he panted, stroking himself up and down.
After a few moments, he stopped and slowly sank to the bottom of the tub.
Tears leaked from his eyes as he sat under the spray of the shower, the
shampoo streaming down his face.  Head bowed, he placed his hands flat on
the tub floor.  He physically ached with the need to be held.  Wrapping his
arms around himself, he rocked back and forth under the force of the
water.....


********

       Eloy was in the kitchen making coffee when he heard the mail truck
drive by in the street below.  He stood by the counter, barefoot, wearing
cutoffs and an old tank top.  Putting his coffee cup on the counter, he
went downstairs to see if there was anything interesting.  He didn't meet
anyone on the stairs on the way down to the lobby, and was able to get his
mail from his box uninterrupted.  He raced up the stairs and headed back to
the kitchen.  Pouring himself a cup of coffee, he absently flipped through
the pile of mail.  There was the usual stuff --- letters from fans, a
request for a promotional appearance here or there, an occasional bill.
Most of it seemed rather uninteresting.  But in the midst of the mail was a
letter with handwriting that looked vaguely familiar.  Puzzled, he looked
at the postmark and saw that it was from the UK.  There was no return
address.

      Intrigued, he carried the mail to the table.  Tossing most of it on
the table, he took the letter with him upstairs to the deck.  The more he
worked on this apartment, the better he liked it.  It was the antithesis of
his last home, full of plants and light.  Carlo had preferred a darker
décor and the curtains drawn all the time.  This new place had a
skylight in the kitchen, with steps leading to the rooftop deck that he had
all to himself.  It was the kitchen that had decided the place for him.  He
saw the light oak beams and cabinetry, and the hanging plants all around
and knew he could come to enjoy this place.

     Out on the deck, he sat down at the patio table with his coffee,
propped up his feet on the opposing chair, and opened the letter.  A smile
crept upon his face as he opened the stationary with Goofy at the top and
Stephen's signature scrawled at the bottom.  The handwriting tended to
sprawl across the page, in dips and valleys and Eloy suddenly had a mental
picture of Stephen writing this letter, his tongue peeking out of the
corner of his mouth as he concentrated.  Sitting back in the chair and
shading his eyes with one hand from the glare of the sun, he read the
letter.

      "Hey Eloy!

           Look at this, a letter from Goofy (and me of course!)  I'm sorry
if you've tried to reach me at all, but once again my mobile has gone the
way of the dinosaur, or dodo, or whatever!  I think it ended up under the
tire of the bus, to be honest.  Barrie did claim to hear a squawk as we
pulled out of the last show.  So instead, while I wait for Nokia to dig me
up a new one, I'm resorting to old-fashioned letter writing.  Lord, but I
don't think I've done this since the year I tried to be pen pals with some
boy in the States.... That was ages ago.  Sorry for any misspellings, but
I'll try my best...

          We played Glasgow last night.  It was a fantastic show, thank
God, and despite some of the craziness --- you know that sort of thing ---
the lighting truck went array, didn't show up until about 3 hours before
the show and they had to make do with what they could get up in the hour
before the doors opened.  I think we did the whole thing by candlelight,
actually!  Very romantic.  But with all the technical snafoos, we had a
great time.  Keith got himself pissed while we were waiting to go on.  What
a laugh!  Sometimes I think he sings better when he's pissed.  But don't
ever tell him I said that!

           Shane has been playing with the fates, as well.  He and Ro went
skateboarding backstage and he wiped out into the backup supply for the
pyro part of the show.  Scared the bejeeezus out of everyone!  I swear,
sometimes I think he does it just to get a reaction.  I hid in the back
waiting for everything to blow up.  Luckily it didn't.  Ro was laughing his
fool arse off, thought it was hysterical.  Sometimes I think he makes
things worse.

          Speaking of Ro, I think he's really hooked on this gal he's been
seeing.  All sorts of cloak-and-dagger stuff to see her without anyone
knowing during our short breaks.  She's a lovely lass, pretty as can be.
They really look well together and you can see she adores him.  And though
she's not in the music biz, she does modelling, so she at least understands
the crazy kind of travelling we have to do.  Not sure if this is the one,
but it does keep his mind off his mam, God Bless her.  How he goes on with
her doing so poorly, I don't know.  If it were my mam, I'd be out of my
mind.  But sometimes the crazy pace helps, because then he doesn't have
time to think.  Every night I pray for her and ask God to help his family
out.  His da must be a wreck with all this.

         They've extended our tour out to Italy and Spain, and Louis P's
people are talking France, too.  Lord, but its been a great run, but
weather our voices can take the whole thing will be another story.  I think
we're going to try to push for a break before we start the Europe part of
the tour.  But with this extension, it pushes things right up to when we go
back into the studio again.  No rest for the weery.  Ah well.

         Hope things are well for you and that you're getting along fine.
And that you don't mind these little rambling notes from time to time.  It
helps pass the time on the buss to the next gig, and when I'm relaxing in
my room.

         Say hi to your mom and Luci for me if you get a chance.  After
telling me so much about them, I feel like I know them.

         Take care and God Bless,

          Stephen

          PS - Minnie is quite the bedwarmer, by the way!  Keeps me company
at night."

     Eloy grinned as he read the letter, mentally picturing each person as
Stephen referred to them.  The image of Stephen cuddling with the Minnie
Mouse doll that he had bought in Euro Disney made him chuckle.  He noted
with amusement the crossed out words where Stephen had tried to correct his
spelling and failed.  It seemed the more hurried he was, the worse it got.
Not that Eloy minded that.  It was very sweet that he had taken the time to
write at all.

      He stared off into the distance, lost in thought.  From his deck he
could see over several buildings to where the canals snaked around the
city.  People were out in boats, sailing around on this lazy afternoon.  A
shout from a child in the street below echoed up the walls.  The ringing of
the phone cut into his thoughts and folding the letter, he tucked it into
his pocket as he went back into the kitchen.

      "Hallo," he said as he picked up the phone.  It was Lee, his band
mate, to tell him that they were back on for the album again and that if
possible, they could start recording by the end of the week.  They chatted
for a bit, talking about what each of them had been up to in this short
break they had had.  Telling Lee he'd be there on Friday, he hung up the
phone.

      Things were beginning to look right in the world, now that he had had
a few weeks to settle in to his new place and get into a rhythm again.
Getting back into the studio was a good start, and he went into the next
room to pick up the songs he had been working on before everything had been
stopped.  Slouching down onto the sofa, he put on his headphones and
punched the new song up on the stereo.  From time to time, he glanced
occasionally to the paper in his pocket and smiled....


**************

      As Boyzone stepped out of the van at the record store, flashes went
off in every direction, and the din from the screaming fans drowned out
whatever greeting the manager of the local HMV had to say.  Smiling without
hearing a word, the lads all shook hands with the manager and the visiting
local DJ, then posed at the front of the store for pictures.  Shouts from
the paparazzi called from every direction, trying to get them to look
towards them.  "Steve!"  "Ronan, over here!" "Mikey, look this way!" "All
together boyz, let's have a smile!" "Shane, show us that new tattoo!"
"Keet, give us that winning smile!"  Together, the shouts mingled into one
blur, until after a few moments, the manager made gestures for them to come
over and cut the ribbon to the new store.

       This was the third promotional stop they had made today, and the
sunglasses hid how tired each of the boyz were.  The first had been to a
local community hospital where they had surprised the children in the ward
by coming in and serenading them.  The second had been a stop to a local
newspaper where they had stopped for an interview and pictures.  By this
afternoon stop, they were all dragging.  Especially after doing a show the
night before and being in a bus all night to get to this area for the
promotional gigs.  Many of these had been booked before they had added to
their tour, and Louis insisted that they keep up the pace by making all
these commitments.  He had always said that the pace could be a killer, but
any promotion was good promotion.  The boyz trusted him, since it seemed
like at times Louis had the Midas touch... everything always turned out
exactly as he said.  And they all owed him a deep depth of gratitude for
all that he had done in making them what they were today.

          The manager pantomimed what they had to do, since no one could be
heard over the screams of the crowd.  Police were standing by the fences,
making sure that the fans kept their distance.  Stephen could see some of
them standing at the barriers, tears streaming down their faces.  He was a
little lost at that kind of reaction, since some of these girls got so
hysterical that they had been known to faint on occasion.  That kind of
reaction really scared him, because he was so afraid they'd get hurt in the
crush of the crowd.  The boyz all stood back as Ronan stood next to the
manager and grabbed the large pair of scissors that were to be used to cut
the ribbon.  Motioning the rest forward, the official photographer pushed
them into position until he got the image he was looking for.  Smiles
pasted on their faces, they were relieved when the ribbon was finally cut
and they could go inside.

        Not that the inside was any better.  Fans who had won special
passes from the radio station crammed the inside of the store as they
waited to meet their idols.  A table was set up at the end of the store and
as they made their way over, girls pulled on their clothing, screaming
their names for attention.  Barrie's crew was in full force, watching over
the crowd.

        One little girl was up against the barrier and Stephen's heart went
out to her, crushed as she was by the press of the other girls vying for
the boyz' attention.  Motioning Ben over, he whispered in his ear, pointing
out the little one.  Ben obligingly went over and pulled her over the
barrier, saving her from potentially getting crushed.  She burst into tears
with the sudden release and Stephen could see that Ben was at a loss at
what to do.  Walking over, he held out his arms and took the little girl
from the security guard, cuddling her closely.

         "Ah, now, there, love.  Nothing to fret about.  We just didn't
want to see you smooshed up against the fence is all. Hush now,
love. Everything's all right."  He scanned the crowd and saw a woman
looking on anxiously and knew he had found the girl's mother.  "Why don't
we find your mam, all right?"  She stopped crying and looked at all the
screaming girls who were calling for Stephen's attention.  It was only then
that she realized where she was.  Wrapping her arms around Stephen's neck,
she buried her head against his shoulder, suddenly shy.  With Ben shadowing
him, he made his way over to where the young girl's mother had made her way
through the crowd to the edge of the barrier, with her arms held out for
her daughter.

         "Christy, I'm here, honey.  Its all right," she called as Stephen
approached.  More security came over to hold the fans off as Stephen smiled
at the girl's mother and handed her over.  They had a bit of a tangle since
by this time, the girl was so scared she wouldn't let go of Stephen's neck.
With a chuckle he tickled her, assuring her that her mom would take care of
her now.  Andrew, another one of Barrie's force who had more experience
with kids helped to pry the little girl off of Stephen and hand her back to
her mom.  With a gentle stroke on her cheek Stephen told her he'd see her
later on.  Then the security whisked him away to where the rest of the boyz
were already seated at the table.

         "I'm glad you got to her," Mikey said as he sat down between him
and Shane.  "If you hadn't have done it, I would have right behind you."

         Stephen smiled at Mikey, not really seeing much of anything in the
glare of flashes that were going off in their faces.  "Yeah, I figured one
of us had to do it.  Poor little one.  She was bound to be crushed by this
crowd.  Well, she's safe with her mam now."

         Shane elbowed him and gave him a wink as the line for autographs
moved forward.  Getting out his marker, he smiled at the first girl who
placed a poster in front of him and chatted with her briefly as he signed
her poster and took a little stuff animal gift from her.  From there, he
lost track of the number of people he talked to. Occasionally the DJ would
walk through, talking to fans waiting in line and broadcasting their
meeting their favorites.  There were all ages there, from the little girl
that he had helped save earlier to older women about his mam's age who came
with no kids and had their own CDs that they wanted signed.  After a while,
his hand began to ache and occasionally he tried to shift position to ease
the cramp in his arm from having to write so much.

         It seemed like the line would never end.  The boyz were at the end
of their endurance when they were finally set free and allowed to go to
their hotel.  Even then there was a crowd outside waiting for them at the
back door of the record store and again at the hotel they were staying at.
With stifled groans, they got out of the van, waving, but not stopping on
their way into the hotel.  Their tour management had arranged to get them
checked in so all they had to do was walk into the lobby and up to their
rooms.

        As the elevator doors closed, Ronan leaned against the back wall
with a sigh.  Keith looked over in concern and wrapped his arm around the
younger man, letting Ro rest his head on his shoulder.  None of them said
anything, not having any need to articulate how their day went.  When the
doors opened, they all trudged to their rooms, Ben opening the door for
each.  With tired waves, they all bade goodnight to each other.  It was
time to crash --- no hanging out in the bar for them this night.

       Stephen entered his room and as the door closed behind him, listened
blissfully to the silence.  His whole body reverberated from the events of
the day.  He just leaned against the door for a moment with his eyes
closed, enjoying the moment.  With a sigh, he opened his eyes again and
looked around the room.  The light by the night table was on, giving the
room a warm glow.  His suitcase was on the end of the bed, waiting for him.
With a grunt he pushed himself away from the door and over to the bed.
Sitting down next to the suitcase, he leaned down to untie his boots.  He
felt like every muscle ached from the pace he had been keeping.

       The phone rang with a shrill ring.  Stephen debated not even picking
it up, but as it cut through the blessed silence of the room, he found he
had to make it stop.

         "Hullo?" He almost mumbled into the phone.  It was Mark, their
tour manager, asking if he could have anything sent up to the room.  The
thought of food didn't even remotely appeal, and he told Mark he'd rather
just go to bed.  Bidding him goodnight, he hung up the phone and lay back
on the bed. He thought about just saying the hell with it and sleeping like
that, but knew he wouldn't be comfortable the next morning.

          Stifling another groan, he pulled himself up and pushed his
suitcase off the bed.  Unbuckling the straps holding the battered case
together, he unlatched the case and opened it.  On top of his clothes was a
note.  Frowning, Stephen picked it up.

           "Steve!  Don't forget to call your sister.  It's the 19th! -
Alex"

          "Oh, shite!" Stephen swore softly.  He continued to swear softly
as he limped over to the phone and sat down on the bed.  There was no way
he could avoid calling his sister on her birthday.  He had totally lost
track of the dates because while on tour, one day just blurred into
another.  Crawling onto the bed, he pulled the phone with him, and leaned
against the headboard.  Placing the phone in his lap, he punched in his
sister's number and listened to the tinny ring as it crossed over to
Ireland.

          "Hello," a soft voice said as his sister picked up the phone.

          "Happy birthday, honey," Stephen said quietly, then launched into
a short rendition of Happy Birthday Baby.

           "Oh, Stephen, thank you, sweetie.  You're a love, you know that,
don't you?" Michelle said, happy that her little brother had taken the time
to call.  She could hear how tired he sounded and her heart went out to
him.

           "Not me.  I am calling also to apologise, because I owe you a
birthday present." Stephen was mad at himself for letting the time get away
from him. "I meant to get something in the mail to you, but everything's
been so mad lately that I just lost track of the time.  I'm sorry, Shel."

             "Ah, don't you worry yourself, Steve.  Its not like you're
sitting on your duff not doing anything.  I know you're busy.  Don't be
silly!" She admonished him.  She could tell that he was tired enough that
this kind of thing could spiral him down and she didn't want that to
happen.  She was just so tickled that he had called.  "And if you even
start to get down on yourself, mister, I'll come through this phone and
spank you!"

          He couldn't help himself.  It was such a ridiculous image that he
burst into laughter.  She joined him and he relaxed as he listened to her
melodious laugh.  "Thanks, Shel.... I needed that!  I really did.  How are
you?  Did you have a good day today?"

         "Oh, lovely, hon.  Alan stayed home from work and pampered me.
Fed me breakfast in bed, took Jordie out for the morning so I could sleep
in, and then we had a lovely day walking the beach down in Wexford.  It was
glorious.  We went in and out all of the little shops, Jordie not making a
peep the whole time.  Ah, I was in heaven!"

           Stephen curled up on his side, listening to her chatter away
about what was going on with the rest of the family.  She went on to say
what was going on back at home, telling about the neighbors and what they
were all up to.  It was so easy to close his eyes and listen to her.  It
made him feel closer to home.  And while he didn't get half as homesick as
he used to, he dearly missed all the family gatherings where everyone
crowded around the table at home.  It was boisterous, but there was so much
love that went around that he felt warm and safe.

           "Enough about me!  How's things been with you, honey?" She asked
after a while.  He told her about some of the things that had been
happening on tour, and the week they had had.

           "Are you going to get a break anytime soon? I'd love it if you
could sneak back for a day or so and I could make you some home cooked
meals.  I know you don't eat right when you're on the road.  And the way
they're wearing you so, you must be a bag o' bones!" She declared.

           He started laughing.  "Hardly, Shel!  We eat like pigs, we spend
most of our nights winding down in the pub in the hotel, and while driving
around, most times we end up eating McDonald's.  Hardly what I call low
calorie food."  He traced his hand over his stomach.  To him, he felt like
he was heavy.  He always gained weight easily, and this kind of running
around made for haphazard food choices.

            "Ah right.  And what did you have today?" She asked accusingly.

            "Well, lots of stuff." He said vaguely.  To be truthful, he
hadn't a clue. He had dim remembrances of something snatched on the way
after the show while they got on the bus, some snacks before bunking down
for the night.  A run through a service station where they picked up some
prepackaged donuts and coffee, but it had been so tasteless that he hadn't
had any after a couple of bites.

           "Stephen Patrick David, don't you fib to me.  I know you better
than that."  He could almost see her shaking her finger at him and he
laughed.

           "Honestly, Shel, I don't remember. One day just kind of drifts
into the next.  I'm lucky I remember my name sometimes," he said ruefully.
"Well, we're almost done here.  Got about 4 days off before we go into the
studio.  Lord, but will I be glad to not move for a day or two!"

             "Well, no gallivanting off with your friends this time, young
man.  You come right home and get some much needed rest!" Michelle declared
sternly.  He smiled affectionately, listening to her berate him.

             "No, no plans, and definitely no gallivanting!" He said.

             "Did you have yourself a nice time, though?  We've hardly time
to talk, and I know you got to Disney because of the notes you sent with
the presents for the boys, but you haven't told me anything.  I'm pining
away with curiosity, lad!"

           He lay on the bed with a big grin on his face.  He was not about
to talk about what happened in France.  Especially not with his big sister.
He told her a lot of things, but some things he just had to hold close.
"Ah, when we get together, I'll tell you all about it."

           "You better!  I feel like I'm missing all the fun!"  They
laughed together.  "Honey, I better let you go.  As grand as it has been, I
know you're tired.  You tuck yourself in and get some sleep.  And thanks so
much for calling.  It really has been lovely."

           "Well, I don't do it often enough, Shel. And Lord, but I wish I
were there with you to share your day today.  I'll make up for it when I
come home, all right?"  Stephen was wistful. Sometimes he felt like he
missed so much when he was on the road.  If he had any regrets, it was
being separated from his family so much.

         "Steve, you don't have to make up anything.  Really.  Now get
yourself tucked in and off to sleep!" She said.

          "Thanks, I will.  And Shel?  I love you," he said softly into the
phone.

          "I love you too, sweetie.  You take care of yourself, and don't
forget to take those vitamins!  Can't have you getting sick with all this
going on, right?"

          "Yes, ma'am," he said solemnly.  "I do, every morning.  I'd best
ring off, I think I'm going to nod off here.  Give my love to Alan and
Jordan.  And everyone else when you see them!"

          "I will.  Sleep tight, and don't forget we all miss you and love
you, hon." She said. "Goodnight."

           He hung up the phone and rested his cheek against the receiver.
Suddenly the room seemed really empty.  Closing his eyes, he sighed and
rolled onto his back.  He then picked up the phone and gently put it back
on the desk.  His hand hovered over it for a minute while he thought about
picking up the phone and calling Eloy.  Pulling back with a sigh, he
decided against it.  As much as he would like to hear his voice, he knew
that emotionally, he was a bit raw tonight.  It was occasionally like that
when he talked to his sister.  Being so far away, he felt like he was
missing so much.  And having grown up in such a large family, he felt like
so much was going on when he was away.  Not that he could do much about
that.  It was either that, or not be in the band.  And the drive to be a
performer was stronger than his regrets at what he was missing.  But Lord
if he didn't wish he could get back home more!

          He pulled himself off the bed and went to wash up.  After taking
a shower, he pulled Minnie out of his suitcase and tucked them both into
bed.  Hugging her tight, he closed his eyes and thought back to his last
break.  God, but it seemed like a lifetime ago!  With a soul weary sigh, he
shut off the light and drifted off to sleep.


***********

        On the average of once a week Eloy would receive little notes from
Stephen.  He found himself looking forward to them, rushing home from the
studio to check the mail each day.  It wasn't anything in particular, but
he felt like he had a connection with what was going on in his friend's
life.  Often he'd be out with friends and something would make him think of
Stephen, and he'd pause, wondering where he was at that moment and what he
was doing. His friends noticed his preoccupation, and tried to draw him out
of whatever it was that was distracting him.  Sometimes it worked, but more
and more, he found that going out dancing with his friends just didn't have
the lure it used to.  Maybe he was just getting older, and not into that
kind of scene anymore, he mused.....

************

       The boyz survived the grueling pace through to the much needed
break.  It was with great relief that they all boarded the plane for home.
Nothing could break their boisterous good humour as they got on the plane
in Madrid.  Luckily, the other passengers were rather tolerant of their
high jinks as they sang their way through the flight back to Dublin.  If
anything, they had more energy when they got off than when they had gotten
on the plane.

        Stephen eagerly searched the crowd as he got out of customs, and
saw his sister standing off to one side, Alan at her side.  Grinning
broadly, he waved to the other lads and made his way over to where they
were standing.  Dropping his bag, he wrapped his arms around his sister and
hugged her tight.

        "Oh what a sight for sore eyes!" He exclaimed, showering her with
kisses.  She laughed and pulled back to look at him intently.  His face was
drawn, and he was clearly showing signs of exhaustion.  "Sorry the flight
was delayed.  But it wasn't my fault, honest!"

         "Ah, Stephen," she said softly.  He looked a wreck.  But he was so
happy to be home that she held back from saying anything about how he
looked.  He gave her a wink before pulling back so he could hug his brother
in law.

         "Alan, great to see you.  You're looking fine," he said.  Alan
reached down and picked up his suitcase before he could get a hold of it.

         "You look like Hell, Steve.  But welcome home.  Let's get out of
here while the going is good.  Your mam has been waiting all evening for
you, so we'd best be on our way," he said gruffly.  He didn't really
understand his brother-in-law's life at all, but he knew his wife doted on
him something fierce.  And since he could never deny Michelle anything, he
always went along with what she wanted to do where Stephen was concerned.

         Michelle linked her arm with Stephen's and she led them out of the
airport to the parking garage.  Their car wasn't too far off and she opened
the boot so that Alan could put the suitcase in the back.  Then he opened
the doors.  Stephen got in the back seat with a sigh, letting Michelle and
Alan take the front.

        "How was the flight?" She asked, twisting around in the bucket seat
so she could face him.  Alan protested mildly as her knee brushed the
center console and she slid closer to the door to give him more room to
shift.  "Other than long?"

        "Not bad," Stephen said with a yawn. He saw Alan's hand rested
lightly on his sister's knee and smiled.  It was good to be home. He looked
idly out the window as they left the airport and headed into town.  Dublin
always seemed so small to him when he came home, the narrow streets winding
willy-nilly as they made their way through the North side.  Soon they were
at the top of O'Connell Street and veering off to Seville.  In the
distance, he could see that a lot of construction had been going on since
he was last home, though it seemed like the old neighborhood hadn't changed
much at all.  He could see couples out in the early evening, strolling the
sidewalk, small children moving out of the narrow street and then back onto
it after they had passed.  He smiled.  Some things never changed.

        Soon they were turning the corner and in next to no time were home.
Alan went to the end of the circle and made a u-turn so he could park on
the other side of the street.  As he pulled up and shut off the engine, a
dog barked nearby.  Most of the neighbors were out enjoying the warm
evening air, sitting on the stoops and chatting with each other.  A couple
of young girls skipped rope in front of one house, staring at their car.
Michelle got out and pushed the bucket seat forward so he could get out of
the car.  He stretched as he got out.

        "As I live and breathe, if that's not young Stephen, I don't know
who it is!" a voice declared from across the street.  With a tired smile,
Stephen made his way to go hug his neighbor Mrs. Halloran.  He grew up with
her son, who was a year or two older than he, and spent as much time in her
house as he had in his own, growing up.

        "Yeah, I'm home.  Almost don't recognize home, it's been so long."
He said with a smile.  Mrs. Halloran's little dog came out and barked
imperiously at this intruder on his property. With a laugh Stephen dropped
down to his knees to let the little mutt sniff him and remember who he was.
After a couple of scritches, the dog went back to his place on the step and
lay back down.

         "Don't let me keep you, darling.  Your mam wouldn't forgive me!
In fact, I'm surprised she hasn't marched out here already!" Mrs. Halloran
said.

         "I'm sure!" Stephen said with a laugh.  "I'd best be getting in
then, haven't I?" He gave her another hug and went back to where Michelle
and Alan were waiting.  Michelle waved and led the way up the walk.  The
door opened before they reached it, their mother standing silhouetted by
the hall light behind her.

          "Stephen?" She asked, peering out into the dark.

          "Hi, Mam," he said, walking forward and hugging her fiercely. She
just clutched him tight around the waist.

         "C'mon in now, no keeping you out on the stoop." She said, pulling
him into the hall.  He could hear music upstairs.  Tony, most likely.  His
father sat in the parlor, feet up on an ottoman, watching the local news.
He looked up as Stephen came in the room and stood up to give his son a
hug.

           "Lord, Stephen, you look like Hell!" He said, taking in
Stephen's face with his eyes.

          "That seems to be what everyone says," he said wryly with a
glance at Alan.  Alan laughed and made his way up the stairs with Stephen's
suitcase, trying not to bang it along the wall as he went.  With a sigh,
Stephen sat down on the sofa next to his father, his mother hovering a bit
as she offered him a glass of something to drink.  "I'm fine, Mam.  Just
sit down and don't bother yourself."

          He looked around the room.  Faded blue flowered wallpaper lined
the walls, hidden for the most part behind the pictures of all the Gatelys
that filled the room.  Every nook and cranny where there was room had a
picture stand on it, and where there weren't pictures, there were some of
the gold records of Stephen's and awards that the boyz had won tucked in
amongst them.  It was so completely different from the places where Stephen
had been for the last 6 months, and so completely familiar.  Because it was
home.  Nothing fancy, no one catering to him, and thankfully, no one
demanding that he be on.  It was the one place he could just be himself.
He leaned back against the sofa with a sigh and closed his eyes.  His
mother chatted about what was going on with the neighbors, his father
throwing in a sardonic commentary here or there.  Michelle sat on a chair
next to the television, Alan perched on the arm besides her.  Alan's mom
had Jordan for the evening.  And while Stephen was a bit disappointed not
to see his nephew right away, he knew he couldn't really deal with a
boisterous 3 year old feeling the way he did, either.

        "Stephen," his mother said.  With a start, he opened his eyes.  He
had a feeling she had called his name a few times before he responded.  His
head rested on his father's shoulder.  Blinking, he looked up at his
father's smiling face and murmured an apology for falling asleep on him.

        "Sweetheart, you should just go to bed.  We can talk in the
morning.  Had I known you were so tired, I would have sent you off right
away."  She looked guilty at having gone on long enough for him to nod off.

        "I'm sorry, Mam.  But I'm so tired," Stephen said with a sigh.  He
hadn't really been focusing on anything his mother had been saying, just
letting his mind go still now that he was safely at home.

         "And we'd best be going," Alan said, standing and offering his
hand to help Michelle up.  She squeezed his hand and went over to give
Stephen a hug.

         "Off with you now.  I'll come by in the morning when you've had
some rest and you and Jordan can have a visit together," she promised.  He
gave her a kiss and another hug as he nodded.  Kissing his father and
mother goodnight, he waved his sister and brother in law out the door and
climbed the stairs.

           He was so tired.  As he reached the top of the stairs, he walked
towards the sound of the music, crossing the narrow hall to Tony's room.
Knocking once, he walked in and waved to his younger brother, who was lying
on his bed reading a magazine.

            "Welcome home," Tony said with a wave.  "I cleaned your side so
you don't have to knock anything off." He said helpfully.

             Stephen chuckled, appreciative of the effort Tony had made.
He shoved the suitcase off to one side.  He'd unpack that tomorrow, and get
the gifts he had purchased for the trip home sorted then.  He pulled down
the covers off the bed and sat down, taking his shoes off.  He could hear
his mother calling to him up the stairs.  "Don't be so tired you forget to
wash up before heading to bed, Stephen!"

            "Yes, Mam," he called.  It was one of the reasons why he kept
his bathroom kit on the outside pocket of his suitcase so he could get to
it when he didn't feel like unpacking. Which was more often than not, it
seemed.

             Pulling his shirt off, but leaving his undershirt on, he
pulled the kit out and walked out of the bedroom next door to the bathroom.
Stepping inside, he closed the door over and started the water running.
Looking in the mirror, he made a face.  Ugh!  Better not look, he thought,
bending over to wash up.  Getting his toothbrush out, he brushed his teeth,
scrubbing to get the fuzzy feeling off of his teeth.  After peeing, he
washed his hands, leaving the toothbrush balanced on the glass that Gran
always used to soak her dentures when she was here for a visit.  Shutting
off the light as he left, he trudged back to the bedroom, pulling off his
belt as he went.  Jeans followed soon after and he draped them over the
suitcase along with his shirt.  Left in his undershirt and briefs, he
climbed into the twin bed, pulling the covers up around him.

           "G'night," he said softly to Tony.  "See you in the morning."

            "Night," Tony said.  "This music won't bother you, will it?"
He didn't look up from the comic book he was reading.

            "Nope, don't think so."  Stephen rolled over so his back was to
the light and closed his eyes.  Within moments he was fast asleep.