Date: Fri, 4 Dec 2009 22:00:47 -0500
From: Tinnean <tinneantoo@embarqmail.com>
Subject: Chasing Rainbows Part 4

Fall had arrived once more, and soon the holidays would be on the horizon.

'CIA's' second season opener, the conclusion to the previous season's
cliffhanger finale, had premiered a few weeks before, and the ratings were
so good there was talk that season three was already locked in, with a
guaranteed twenty-six episodes.

I was in my office on the set when my cell phone rang. It was Tony. He'd
still been sleeping when I'd left, and sometimes when that happened, he
would call me just to wish me a good morning. He might have been stubborn
about us having a relationship that was more than familial when I was 18,
but he was making up for it now with a vengeance.

"Good morning, big brother," I said. I couldn't keep the caress out of my
voice, but that was okay, I was alone.

"Bry, we have visitors." His tone was curt. "Quinton and Gregor."

All thought of a discreet flirtation left my mind. "What's wrong?" After
what had happened earlier in the spring, and as much as I enjoyed seeing my
nephew and the man who was my sister's bodyguard, I started imagining the
worst.

"Everyone is fine," he hastened to assure me. "I don't want to talk about
it over the phone. Can you come home?"

"I'm on my way."

"We'll be in the dining room," he informed me, which was a good thing. It
was a large house on a fairly large piece of property, and they could have
been anywhere.

I notified the woman who had been kind enough to tell me she was my
secretary when I'd started working for 'CIA' that I was leaving early
because family had flown in unexpectedly from the East Coast.

"Very good, Bryan." Things were relaxed in LA, and from the beginning she'd
called me by my first name. "Have a nice visit."

Traffic in LA was horrendous, and Tony refused to drive in it, so I was the
designated driver. I'd learned the surface streets and shortcuts, but even
so, it took me three quarters of an hour to get home, and it was after noon
when I pulled into the drive.

A rental was parked there, and I left the little sports car I'd brought out
with us parked next to it. My hip was reacting well for the most part to
the balmy California weather, and I ran into the house.

I went through to the room that looked out onto a small rose garden.

"Uncle Bryan." Quinn rose from his seat.

"Quinton. It's good to see you." I hugged him. I hadn't seen him since the
holidays the previous winter. "Gregor." I hugged him too.

"What's going on?"

"This involves the Company, Bry." Tony offered me a bowl of sliced
fruit. "We've already eaten." The remains of a light lunch were on the
table.

Since coming to California, he'd gotten into the habit of having that for
lunch, and I often teased him about it - grapes, citrus wedges, apples,
pears, strawberries, and honeydew, cantaloupe, and watermelon, with
shredded coconut topping it all. 'I need all the benefits a healthy diet
can give me, Bryan. I've got a young lover to keep up with.'

"Thanks." I put a strawberry into my mouth, holding onto the stem and
pulling gently, and I happened to catch my brother's eyes on my lips. I
grinned at him, and he winked. "Don't tell me the Pres has gotten a brain
and is ousting Holmes?"

"No such luck, but Holmes is involved," Gregor snarled.

I turned to my nephew. "Quinn, you said you didn't have to deal with him on
a day-to-day basis."

"Things change."

"Since the incident with Prinzip." A scowl darkened Gregor's features. His
gesture toward Quinn was, 'you tell him, this is your organization.'

"Yes. Ever since last spring... " Quinn ran a hand through his
hair. "Holmes put Operational Targeting under his personal aegis. He's been
sending me on a lot of useless assignments."

"Passive-aggressive. That always was Holmes' middle name."

"That wasn't the problem." He shrugged, waving it aside. "We get
assignments like that- "

"Not when Bryan was analyzing the data!"

"No, Uncle Tony. That's true. I've been sent on so many wild goose chases
lately... And now there's something else. Gregor?"

Gregor reached into his suit jacket and withdrew a small, sleek cell phone.

"That was my phone. I haven't been sleeping well since the middle of July,"
he explained, "and it was getting increasingly worse. The nightmares... I
thought it was post traumatic stress from the kidnapping, but someone- "

Gregor snorted and glared at Quinton.

"- suggested that this phone might have been tampered with."

"And it has been?"

"Yes."

"Any idea who might have done it?"

Quinn's expression became bleak. "I realized the only time I didn't have it
on me was when I was at Langley."

Tony and I both swore. "Holmes?"

"With everything that was going on... I have to assume so."

Gregor nodded, looking grim. "I had it checked out. Something was planted
in it."

"I couldn't ask around at the Company - I couldn't trust anyone, not Syd,
not Lyn, not even DB."

I exchanged glances with my brother. DB Cooper was a friend, and Syd and
Lyn had worked under Quinn for years. It must have destroyed him not to be
able to trust them.

"What about this 'someone' who discovered the problem?" Since I was the one
who had worked for the Company, Tony let me do the talking. "Assuming he or
she isn't CIA... "

"Definitely not CIA." Gregor growled. "And definitely not *she*."

Quinn ignored him. "This friend is a 'he.'"

"Friend... " Gregor make a rude sound.

A faint frown line appeared between Quinn's brows, but his gaze remained
steadfast on mine. "He would have looked into it himself, but there would
have been a serious conflict of interest."

Tony's eyebrow climbed, but he said nothing. I waited to hear what else
Quinn had to say, but Gregor spoke first.

"*Not* the FBI, if that's what you're thinking," he snapped. "What
division, which isn't even supposed to be an entity, is in such keen
competition with the CIA?"

"WBIS?"

"Give the man a cigar."

"Gregor... "

"Could *he* have done it then, this... friend of yours - sabotaged your
phone?"

Quinn's mouth took a stubborn twist. "No. He would have no reason to do
that to me."

"'No reason,' my ass." Gregor could be just as stubborn. "Does Vincent ever
need a reason to do anything?"

"Mark Vincent?" I kept my voice noncommittal.

"Oh, please, Uncle Bryan. Don't try to tell me that Mother hasn't mentioned
that I've been seeing Mark. That for a time he was living in my townhouse."

"No, she hasn't," I said mildly.

"Oh." He flushed and subsided.

It was Gregor who had called with the news, rabid that Quinn was involved
with the senior WBIS agent, and impotent because there seemed to be nothing
he could do about it. 'I wouldn't be surprised if that bastard even planned
the whole kidnapping thing just to get close to Quinn!' he'd ranted.

After hearing that, both Tony and I had looked into it, using resources we
had acquired over the years. We'd been reassured that Vincent had no
connections to Prinzip and had nothing to do with our nephew's kidnapping
by the rogue organization.

"Gregor is just... irritated... because Mark managed to get around the
security system at Mother's house twice."

Yes, that would irritate the former FBI agent.

"I had Callahan in Security upgrade everything," Quinn went on to say.

"He's a good man, and his team is the best the Company has to offer. We
won't need to be concerned for your mother's safety."

Novotny ground his teeth together. "The only thing that would keep me
unconcerned is seeing Vincent with a bullet between his eyes! Or better
yet, putting one there myself!"

"Gregor, that's enough." Quinn had turned pale. "That was part of the
nightmares."

Novotny had the grace to look abashed.

"All right." Tony stepped in. "What does all this have to do with your
nightmares, Quinn?"

"Mark saw something when I was using my cell phone - a miniscule flashing
green light. I never noticed it." It was easy to see he was upset with
himself.

Novotny patted his shoulder. "It isn't likely you would. Watch." He opened
the phone, tapped in the code to retrieve messages, and held it to his ear,
turning so we could see the light. Then he closed the phone, and the light
went out. "It does the same thing when a call is sent or received."

"Son of a bitch! Subliminal messages?"

They stared at me, surprised.

"There were rumors of something like that going around for years; it was
Hazelton's pet project." Hazelton had been the DCI before Holmes, and there
was no love lost between the former Director and the present one. "I left
before anything workable had been developed, and I was sure that with
Holmes as Director, it would be cancelled."

"Well, shit. I could have asked you." Novotny was disgruntled.

"You had fun looking into this, though. Admit it."

He grinned reluctantly. "Yeah, I did. Because of the
not-getting-in-touch-with-anyone-from-the-CIA thing, I got to use some of
my old sources. They enjoyed exercising their chops again too."

"So what's the story? It all comes back to Holmes?"

"Yes."

Tony ran a hand through his hair, and I wondered if Quinn had picked that
up from him. "You'll need a new cell phone, Quinn."

He took one from his pocket. "Mark insisted on it as soon as he realized
there was a problem with the old one."

"You were together." It wasn't a question.

He sighed. "Are you going to give me a hard time over him too? Gregor never
lets up."

"He's *Vincent*, Quinn!" Novotny's tone was pained.

"Look... "

Tony cleared his throat. "I think we have more important things to discuss
right now than your respective feelings about Mark Vincent. You're staying
overnight, aren't you?"

"There's no need for us to put you out."

"The only way you'll put us out is by not staying with us."

"Tony's right. You haven't been able to come out here. Wait until you see
what he's done with the bedrooms on the second floor."

Tony peered at him from beneath his brows. "If you don't stay, Cara Mia is
going to feel as if the family is avoiding her. Your mother is the only one
who came to meet her, and that was months ago."

"And besides, you haven't met Sunday yet. She's already got the two of us
wrapped around her little finger."

"When you put it like that... "

"I'll get our carry-ons from the rental."

"Thanks, Gregor." Quinn waited until he left. "Are you two all right with
me being involved with another man?"

I looked to Tony, and he smiled and spoke for both of us. "Quinn, as your
former colleagues, it isn't any of our business who you choose to... be
involved with, but as your uncles, we are pleased that the man you've
chosen is capable of watching your back in a sticky situation."

"I never expected to... " He gave a small, rueful smile. "... be involved
with someone like him, you know. I... like him."

Tony opened his mouth just as Novotny returned with the carry-ons. "Bryan,
why don't you make reservations for us for dinner at Chez Henri?"

"For around 8?" Knowing him as well as I did, I knew that what he'd said
was not what he'd intended to say.

"Does that sound good?" When Quinn nodded, Tony continued, "All right. I'll
call Cara and let her know. She's taken Sunday out shopping for a Halloween
costume." He lowered his voice. "Cisco's gone with them."

I nodded and glanced at our guests. Quinn's expression was blank. Gregor
had apparently found something fascinating about their luggage. The family
was unsure what to think of Cara Mia and her four year old daughter.

"We'll need to get a sitter for Sunday. She's very well-behaved, but that's
too late for her."

"Cisco should be available. He loves sitting for Sunday."

"John Cisco?" Gregor started to laugh. "Who'd have thought?"

"All right, that ties up that loose end. Now I'll show you to your
rooms. There's a Jack-and-Jill bath between. Bryan and I put that in
ourselves, and I expect you to be suitably impressed... "

I watched them as they climbed the curving staircase that led to the second
floor and considered the information we'd just been given. Not only was our
nephew bisexual, but the man he was involved with was dangerous in the
extreme.

Vincent was no longer in the field, but when he had been, he'd had a
reputation for being like the Shadow, appearing out of nowhere, and
vanishing just as quickly. I thought of the KGB agent who had actually
broken down into tears when he'd learned that Vincent was targeting the man
he'd been assigned to transport from Ho Chi Minh City to Moscow. The man
had turned up floating in the Mekong River, and the agent had defected.

Tony was right. Having a man of Vincent's caliber watching our nephew's
back was a good thing. I wondered if we would get to meet him.

Maybe it would be soon.

I went to make the phone call to Chez Henri.

****

It was just after lunch the next day, and Quinn and Novotny were about to
leave to catch their flight out of LAX.

"Tony and I will put our heads together and see if we can come up with a
means of persuading Holmes to hassle another of his officers." The four of
us had spent the previous evening trying to come up with something, but
Holmes had some powerful men backing him, including a senator from the Mid
West, and beyond the tempting idea of shooting him, it had been to no
avail. "In the meantime, try to make it appear as if his little plan is
working."

"Will do, Uncle Bryan. I told Mark I'd do that. Which reminds me. Would you
like to come to Alexandria for Thanksgiving? Mother will be joining us."

"*Us*?"

"Mark and I. He's just bought a condo, and... "

Novotny groaned but kept his mouth shut.

"Thank you, but with Cara Mia and Sunday here... "

"Oh, they're invited too. You're right, she is a sweetheart." He didn't say
anything about Cara Mia, however. "Look, give it some thought, all right?"

"All right, Quinn. We will. Have a safe flight back."

We stood watching as they got into the rental and drove off, then closed
the door.

"What do you think, little brother?" Tony asked as we strolled into the
room that would eventually become our library.

"I don't know. We need something to nail the bastard. The problem is, he's
careful. They used to call him the Rubber Man."

"Why? Oh, because everything bounced off him?"

"Yes. Well, I have a few people who are still in the loop. I'll contact
them and see what they know."

"Good idea." He crossed to the French doors that opened out onto the
backyard and gazed at the area where I worked sporadically on a koi pond.

For a moment I allowed myself to drink in his figure, but then he turned
and caught me staring, and he grinned at me.

I flushed a little but grinned back at him, then picked up the phone and
dialed the various numbers from memory. None of them seemed to be home, so
I left the same message with each one, along with my phone number. "This is
Bryan Sebring. I need some help with a family problem. Give me a call. If
you're interested, we can discuss it."

"I guess that's all we can do for now." Tony glanced around the
room. "We've got some time before Cara Mia and Sunday come home." Cisco had
taken them to the zoo, and when they returned, we were going to grill
hotdogs and hamburgers.

Sunday had promised to model her Halloween costume, Ariel, the Little
Mermaid.

I'd never had the opportunity to take my stepchildren trick-or-treating -
Johanna didn't believe in it - and I was looking forward to finally doing
that. I was going to go as a Ghostbuster, complete with a proton pack,
particle thrower, and flipdown ecto-visor. Sunday had gotten a big kick out
of it. I'd thought Tony would laugh when I tried on my costume for him, but
instead he'd flushed, ripped open the fly of the jump suit, pushed me back
onto the bed, and fellated me.

I grew hot at the memory.

"What do you want to do?"

"Well, we could do some work on this room."

"Yes." He smiled and waited to hear what else I had to offer.

"Or... We could go upstairs and lie down for a while." I waggled my
eyebrows at him. "No one would think anything of two men our age taking a
nap."

"Little brother, I like the way you think!" He linked his arm in mine, and
we went up the stairs to our bedroom.

****

The next day was a beautiful day, the kind they write songs about - the air
so soft and balmy you could get drunk just from breathing it in.

We woke early - the man could be taken out of the government agency, but
the government agency couldn't be taken out of the man - and drove to a
little place that only opened for breakfast on the weekend. During the week
we breakfasted with Cara Mia and Sunday, and Cisco when he was in town, but
the first day of the week was for us alone.

Once we returned home, Tony took all the newspapers that we subscribed
to. "Give some thought as to what you'd like for dinner, all right, little
brother?" And he retreated to the study.

I looked after him fondly, then trotted up the stairs to our room to put on
a pair of worn jeans that were perfect for yard work. I was setting up a
waterfall for the pond out back that would be stocked with koi once it was
finished.

The phone rang a couple of times, but stopped before I could pick it up,
and I assumed that Tony had gotten it.

"*Bryan*!"

I'd never heard that tone in his voice before. The jeans left unbuttoned, I
bolted out of our room and ran down the stairs. "What is it?"

Tony stood at the study's doorway, shaking and looking pale, and I was
afraid he was having a heart attack.

"What's wrong?"

"Quinn's on the line. Portia's been in an accident."

I felt my stomach twist. "How is she?"

"She needed to be operated on."

"*How is she*?"

"I don't know. She's in recovery." Blindly, he handed me the phone, and I
pushed him toward an armchair. He sank into it and buried his head in his
hands. I put my hand on his shoulder and squeezed, offering what comfort I
could, and he rubbed his cheek against it. His cheek was damp.

"Quinn, what's going on?"

"Uncle Bryan. I'm sorry... " His voice was hoarse. It cracked, and he
cleared it and started again. "Mother came through the surgery all right,
but she still hasn't regained consciousness."

"What happened?"

"Gregor was driving her home from the embassy ball last night. It was
raining. Someone rear-ended my car... "

"*Your* car, Quinn?"

"The tires on Mother's Town Car had been slashed. I had an alternate means
of getting home, so... "

"So you gave your Lexus to your mother, and your car was rear-ended." My
mind was racing over the possibilities. Had it been an accident, or had it
been deliberate? And if it was deliberate, who had been the target?

"Yes. Gregor has some minor injuries, but Mother... her ribs are badly
bruised, her hip was fractured, and her spleen had to be removed; it was
torn. The anesthesia has worn off, but she's still unconscious. I... " His
voice shook, and he drew a deep breath. "I don't know how long she'll be
like that."

"What hospital is she in?"

"George Washington."

"Tony and I will be there as soon as we can get a flight. Have you got in
touch with Jeff?"

"Yes. He and Ludo got here a short time ago. I'm sorry I didn't call
sooner... "

"Don't worry about it. Will you be all right?"

"Yes. I... Vincent was with me. Yes."

"Good. Hang in there. We're on our way." I hung up.

"Bryan?" Tony's color was better now, but he was still a little
gray. Portia was the baby of the family, and we all loved her. I reached
for him, and he wrapped his arms around my waist, his cheek against my open
fly, and held on.

"She'll be all right, big brother. She's in the hospital, and that's the
best place for her right now."

"We have to get there."

"Yes." I'd contact Chili. I knew she was in town, having recently called on
her for some backup information about Lear jets for the show. "Can you go
upstairs and pack for us?"

He nodded.

I ran my hand over his hair. "She will be all right, I promise you. She's
stronger than you ever gave her credit for."

"I know. It's just... "

"I understand. You've always been the big brother." I tipped his chin up
and kissed him. "Don't forget it's fall back east. Pack appropriately." As
I'd hoped, that made him smile.

"I will." He rose, straightened his shoulders, and headed for the door to
the hallway. He paused just inside it. "Cara Mia... "

I stared down at myself, aghast to recall the front of my jeans were
gapping open. Hurriedly I secured the button fly. "Let her know that we'll
be out of town and to stay alert." I'd call Cisco as well.

Tony nodded and left the room.

I made the phone calls and followed him upstairs. He'd laid out trousers
and a sweater for me to change into.

"Thanks, big brother."

He squeezed my shoulder and finished packing. In minutes we were on the way
to LAX, and a few hours later, we landed at Dulles.

****

Two days, and there was still no discernible change in our sister's
condition. She had been transferred from recovery to a private hospital
room on the 6th floor. She looked so tiny and frail in that bed.

Vases of flowers were on every flat surface of the room, including the
floor. Bunches of balloons floated against the ceiling. The cards indicated
they were from friends, colleagues, and the organizations to which Portia
belonged. So many people called that I'd made arrangements for an answering
service to field the calls.

"We can't expect the hospital to deal with them," I told my nephew and my
brothers.

Tony and I sat at our sister's bedside. The doctors, who were optimistic,
suggested we talk to her, and so that was what we did - talked of our
experiences when we were young, talked of holidays with the family, talked
of operations that had succeeded. We made no mention of those that had
failed.

Quinn had been napping on the cot the nurses had brought in for him the
first night. He was awake now, although his eyes were still tired. He sat
beside the bed, holding his mother's hand, and we listened as he told her
about a dog whose love for his young mistress was so great that he rescued
her, even from beyond the grave.

"Mark told me that story, Mother." He blushed, a small smile on his face.

I glanced at Tony, my eyebrow raised, and he shrugged. He couldn't see
anything in the story to blush about either.

Quinn spoke to her about going whale watching up on Cape Cod with Vincent,
going to see 'The Phantom of the Opera,' playing Monopoly on the weekend.

"Six boxcars in a row, Mother!"

Tony and I exchanged glances. We'd never seen him so... enthralled with
anyone.

I kept expecting Vincent to turn up, if only for a minute or so, but he
didn't, and I hoped Quinn hadn't set himself up to be hurt.

"I'm a little surprised not to see Vincent here," I said.

"He was here right after Mother was brought in."

"But since then... ?"

Quinn's expression was closed. "He has things to do."

"Of course." I wasn't going to ask him what kind of things. Vincent was in
the intelligence community, just as we had been. As much as I wanted to
think that being there for my nephew was more important to him than
anything else that might come up, I knew that wasn't realistic. Especially
now that to all intents and purposes he was Director of Interior
Affairs. There would be other demands on his time.

Jeff and Ludo walked in. They had been visiting Novotny, whose room was a
couple of floors down.

"Any change?" Jeff asked.

"In the last half hour? No. How's Novotny doing?"

"He's driving the nurses crazy. He's being discharged tomorrow, and I don't
know who'll be happier, him or them." Jeff's laugh was rueful. "Ludo and I
are going for something to eat. The cafeteria is closed now, but the nurse
on Novotny's floor mentioned a deli a couple of blocks over. It's open
until all hours. The interns and residents and anyone pulling a double
shift go there for a sandwich or a snack. Why don't you come with us?"

"Sounds like a good idea." Tony and I got to our feet. "Quinn?"

"You go ahead. I'd like to stay with Mother."

"All right. We'll bring something back for you."

"No, thanks. I'm really not hungry."

"Quinn, you can't let yourself get run down."

"I won't; I promise."

Tony and I exchanged glances, and then I said, "All right."

The elevator was at the end of the hall. We entered it, and as I turned to
face the front of the car, the door to the stairwell opened. A tall man
stepped out. Was that...

"Come on, Bryan, you're blocking the door."

I backed up a step, and the doors slid closed. *Had* that been Vincent? I
opened my mouth to say something, but then Jeff spoke, and all thoughts of
Vincent left my head.

"How long do we let Portia stay like this before we bring in the big guns?"

"There are some fine doctors in this hospital with impressive credentials,"
Ludo remarked.

"Not impressive enough." Tony drummed his fingers against his thigh.

"Shouldn't Quinton be the one to decide?" Ludo met our eyes steadfastly.

"Yes... " Tony's lips were in a thin line. "... I imagine you're
right. Still... "

"She's bounced back from everything: that miscarriage, Nigel's death,
Quinn's kidnapping. What's taking her so long now?" Jeff's demanded
irritably.

"It destroys me to see her like this, and not be able to do anything about
it."

I wanted to hold Tony, but of course I didn't.

The elevator came to a stop on the lobby level, and we walked out into the
October night. Although traffic wasn't as heavy as during the day, cars
were still out in a good number. We stood at the corner, waiting for the
light to change, then jogged across 23rd Street instead when there was a
break in traffic.

It was after midnight, and the Foggy Bottom Deli was fairly deserted. We
made our selections, various desserts and coffee. The tea wasn't something
we were willing to touch, no doubt having been made with teabags.

"I want to find out who is responsible for this, and I want them dead,"
Tony growled as we set our trays down on a table. He pinned each of us with
a fierce scowl.

Jeff returned his scowl. "Don't tell me you're expecting an argument from
me, Anthony. As soon as we learn who's behind it, I'll be going after
them."

"You're both talking like a couple of hot heads."

They stared in surprise at Ludovic. Even though he'd been with Jeff for so
long, he very rarely voiced opinions in family matters, and now he'd done
so twice.

"She's not your sister, Ludovic," Jeff snapped, and Ludo turned pale.

"That was uncalled for," I murmured.

He spun in his seat to glare at me. "Who asked you?"

"You're my brother, Jeff, not my lover. Seeing you in a temper doesn't
bother me."

Tony kicked my ankle under the table, and I gave him my most innocent
smile. I sliced into the double chocolate triple layer cake, knowing it
would irritate my middle brother even further.

"Yes, well- "

"Why don't you wait to hear what Ludo has to say before you jump down his
throat?"

Jeff turned his glare on his lover, but Ludo matched it with one of his
own. "Portia is as good as my own flesh and blood, Jefferson."

I wasn't surprised when Jeff subsided and muttered, "Sorry, Ludo."

"And so you should be. Prat. Portia was kind to me from the first moment we
met, back when she made her come-out, and I had to bend her ear with that
painful stutter. And when you were so involved with that blond slut,
she..."

Jeff flushed. "You knew about Bart?"

"I'm not daft, you know. Of course I knew about him. Every time he turned
up, you would disappear, and when you came back, you'd be smelling of his
aftershave and looking like the cat that swallowed the canary."

And now Jeff turned pale.

Ludo glanced around and lowered his voice. "I'd... I'd do my best to make
you forget him, but six months or a year later he'd turn up, and it was as
if I didn't exist."

I remembered those days. Jeff didn't work in my division, but I'd run into
him occasionally.

'Bart Freeman's in town,' he'd tell me. 'I'm off to spend the weekend with
him!'

'What about Ludo?' I'd been mildly envious but not surprised when my
brother had introduced me to Ludovic Rivenhall. Ludo had just been assigned
to the British Embassy in DC. He was good-looking, with a cool facade that
gave no hint of what might lie beneath the surface.

I'd seen the way Ludo looked at my brother and marveled that Jeff appeared
oblivious to it. I'd grieved because at the time I thought there would
never be anyone to look at me that way.

Ludo had his own apartment in Dupont Circle, but Jeff was there so
frequently he might as well have set up housekeeping with him.

'We're not exclusive. Besides, he thinks I'll be out of town on Company
business. He'll never know.' He'd grinned and left the building, his step
jaunty.

I liked Ludo, and I was sorry to think he wasn't Jeff's one true love, but
if that was the way it was, that was the way it was. I never said anything.

I had been surprised when Jeff brought Ludovic to our brother-in-law's
funeral and I'd seen the matching rings. I'd wondered what had caused
things to change, but of course I never asked.

"Oh, god, Ludo, I didn't realize!"

"Of course you didn't. You were so bloody single-minded in those days,
Jefferson. If I'd known you Sebrings only love once, I doubt I would have
made that pass at you. I was at the point of giving up and breaking it off
with you."

"You... you would have left me?" Jeff looked as if he'd been kicked in the
gut. I'd never seen an expression like that on his face. "But... "

"I crossed paths with Portia one noontime, and she saw how miserable I
was. She invited me to luncheon at this little place she knew that was like
a bit of home. I found myself pouring out the whole story to her. She was
quite put out with you, luv, and told me that if I... if I loved you, I
should bloody well make sure you knew it."

Jeff's eyes widened as he seemed to recall something about that time. He
flushed a dark red, stretched his hand across the table, and caught Ludo's
hand.

"Sweetheart, I couldn't have lived without you! I'm so sorry."

"Well, we sorted it out, didn't we? And I was even able to be civil to
that... to Mr. Freeman when he saved your life that time." Ludo squeezed
Jeff's hand, then released it and picked up his fork. "Now, what I was
about to say is that I want to see whoever has done this to Portia
punished, but I don't want it over quickly. You know the saying about
revenge being a dish best served cold. I want them to wake up in the small
hours of the morning, years from now, ruing the day their parents had met."

"That would work for me." I raised a bite of the chocolate cake to my
mouth, and paused. "What did you have in mind?"

****

"Excuse me, gentlemen." One of the deli workers stopped by our
table. "We'll be closing in fifteen minutes."

Tony looked at his watch. "Sorry. We didn't realize the time. We just need
to get a sandwich to go." A simple look between us had settled the fact
that no matter what our nephew had decided, as his seniors, we'd overrule
him.

"Sure. We're just starting to put things away. What would you like?"

"A roast beef sandwich?" He looked to me.

"Yes. Quinn will like that. You get it, Tony. We'll clear off the table."

When we got out of the elevator on the 6th floor, it was to see Quinn
coming toward us. He had the strangest look on his face, and immediately I
feared the worst.

But then he saw us and smiled. "I was just coming to try to find
you. Mother regained consciousness about forty-five minutes ago."

We rushed to her room, only to find her sleeping soundly.

"Quinn?"

"She was complaining of pain, so the nurse gave her something for it."

"What? Portia never complains!"

His smile broadened, and he shrugged. "I have a feeling she said that just
to get me out of the room so she could talk to Mark." There was something
in Quinn's eyes when he said the man's name. "He was here."

"Did your mother have another visitor?"

"Excuse me?"

Jeff nodded at the bunch of violets at her bedside.

"Oh, no. Mark brought them."

"He did?"

"He ran into Folana Fournaise... "

Tony frowned. "Isn't she supposed to be dead?"

"... and she gave them to him to give to Mother."

"What is she doing here in the States?"

"I wondered when Folana would turn up." The corner of Jeff's mouth kicked
up in a grin. "Somehow she's always known whenever something momentous was
going on in Portia's life, and she's always sent violets."

"Well, she's done more than send flowers this time. According to Mark,
she's taken care of Mrs. Wexler... "

"What?" Jeff seemed stunned.

"... who was the one who had the tires of Mother's Town Car slashed."

"The Senator's wife?" I was floored. How had she gotten involved with this?

"Yes. Folana apparently showed her what happened when you endangered her
friends. She must have broken every bone in Mrs. Wexler's face."

"With her kongo? Yes, she would," Jeff agreed after a moment's
thought. "She doesn't have very many friends, and she's... fond of Portia."

"I don't understand why Elizabeth Wexler would do something like that to
Portia, though. I know she and Portia are on a number of committees
together, and I thought they were... maybe not bosom buddies, but- " I
shook my head.

"Well, Uncle Bryan, it seems Senator Wexler had a little plan, and
Mrs. Wexler got wind of it."

That didn't sound good. "What was his plan?"

"He intended to make Mother the second Mrs. Wexler."

"I can understand that irritating the first Mrs. Wexler. However, she took
her irritation out on the wrong person."

"Yes."

"So Elizabeth Wexler is responsible for your mother's car being disabled?"

Quinn nodded. "And Senator Wexler is behind the accident to my car. Mother
wasn't supposed to be in it; I was."

We all swore.

"How did you find out about this?"

"Mark persuaded Peter Lapin to talk."

"Who's Lapin?"

"He was the Senator's aide."

Tony stroked his chin. "Vincent's been a busy boy."

Quinn stiffened, and I wondered what had disturbed him.

Tony didn't notice, however. He continued. "He's learned a good deal."

"Mind if I ask how he managed to get Lapin to talk?" I had a feeling there
was more to it than that.

"He didn't say." A small smile played about Quinn's lips. He was relaxed
now, and I wondered about that too.

I had an even stronger feeling that our nephew knew more than he was
telling us.

"We'll want to talk to Lapin." Tony was looking grim.

"That won't be possible. He was in a car accident himself; he wasn't
wearing his seatbelt, and his neck was broken."

"If we want a piece of Wexler, we'll have to hustle to get to him before
Vincent does."

"Yeah. Why should he get to have all the fun," Jeff growled.

"Mother and I knew you'd want to take care of the Senator. We told Mark to
back off."

"And he'll listen to you?"

Quinn's grin was rueful. "As much as he'll listen to anyone. I told him I
intended to sue Wexler in civil court. Mother won't be awarded more than
nominal damages, but it will annoy the hell out of the Senator to have his
name in the newspapers."

"He should be brought up on criminal charges, Quinton. His actions border
on the criminal," Ludo said.

"They've gone beyond that. We couldn't prove he was behind it, though. We'd
get nowhere in a court of law."

"And there's still the problem of Holmes. We don't want to forget him."
We'd been so worried about Portia we'd let things with him slide.

"He's going to realize sooner or later that his lousy trick with your cell
phone is no longer working. We have to come up with something." Jeff
worried his lip.

"We will." A sudden yawn caught Quinn by surprise. "Sorry."

"Why don't you get some rest, Quinn?" I squeezed his shoulder, and he
smiled at me.

"I think I finally can now. I'm going home to pick up some things. I'll
return and spend the night with Mother, and then tomorrow... "

"You'll stay with us at the Madison Arms. There's enough room in our suite
to accommodate all of us, Quinn."

"Thanks. I'd appreciate that. I wasn't looking forward to the drive to and
from Alexandria."

"Don't be an ass. As if we'd have it any other way." I checked my
watch. "Tomorrow's going to be a busy day. I'll take Novotny out to Great
Falls to pack some clothes for himself, and then bring him back to our
suite. He'll want to be near Portia, and we'll want to keep an eye on
him. Although we won't tell him that."

"No. If you're going to Great Falls, would you mind getting some things
from home that Mother asked for? Some nightgowns and her robe and slippers,
her toiletries and a book she's been reading." He handed me a piece of
paper. "I made a list."

"Very good. You know, Quinn, if you prefer, we can stop at your townhouse
on the way to Great Falls."

"Thanks, Uncle Bryan, but that won't be necessary. I've got a ride home
tonight. I'll shower and change and pack what I need for a few days. I was
just waiting for you to get back from the Foggy Bottom Deli... "

"We brought you something." Jeff held up the sandwich.

"In spite of what I said?"

"We're your uncles."

He chuckled. "I'll have it when I get back. I've got to go
now. Mark... Mark's waiting for me. Keep an eye on Mother, all right? I
should be back in a couple of hours."

Tony looked at him, his expression contemplative. "It doesn't take two
hours to drive to Alexandria and pack a bag, especially at this time of
night."

"It doesn't, does it?" Quinn was a little flushed, but he made no attempt
to explain. He went to his mother's sleeping form and kissed her cheek,
then whispered something in her ear and left.

tbc