Date: Tue, 19 Sep 2000 22:38:06 MDT
From: Daniel Lund <rimshotsplanet@hotmail.com>
Subject: Daniel and JD part 11

This chapter is the beginning of the end for this story line.  I've thunk
about it for a long time, wanting to give my first creation an ending that
fits the story and doesn't fragment it.  There will be no sad endings,
although bittersweet perhaps, and as usual, all comments are welcome.  This
is the first of the last three chapters.

Thanks,

Dan

Rimshot@planetaccess.com
rimshotsplanet@hotmail.com


Daniel and JD part 11:  What was I thinking?


	In the darkness, Tyler sighed quietly and carefully disengaged
himself from Brenda, not wanting to wake her.  By the alarm clock, he'd
been awake for almost two hours, his mind grinding heavily through emotions
and options.  He slid over to the side of the bed and out of the covers,
feeling the shocking coolness of his apartment on his bare skin.

	Mystery, his Siamese, immediately vacated her comfortable nest in
the comforter and followed him out into the living room, hoping for a late
night treat.  They went into the kitchen, and Tyler offered the cat some
pieces of chicken from the fridge, sarcastically pleased that there was at
least one female he could make happy.

	Things were not going well with Brenda, at least from his point of
view, and he was rapidly learning that the greatest pain one can endure is
the loneliness and guilt associated with a relationship that never
should've happened.

	With the cat contentedly purring over the light meal, Tyler walked
over to his favorite window, with a hard wood window seat built in, and sat
down, drawing his knees up to his chest.  For a second he wished he had
pulled on his boxers, but the slight discomfort of the cold wood on his ass
was soon forgotten.

	Tyler leaned his head against the glass and swallowed hard,
fighting back the pain he felt.  Brenda was beautiful and funny, and
everything he thought he'd wanted, except for being female.  He squeezed
his eyes shut and felt a tear run down his cheek as the last time he was
with Eddie came to his mind.  They had explored each other thoroughly and
fallen in love.  Then he died.

	Tyler wiped at his face with the back of his hand as he felt
Mystery jump up into the window with him.  She always seemed to know when
he needed her.  He stroked her head and let her lay down between his feet.
It must be nice to be a pampered cat; he mused, then looked out into the
windy darkness at the first snowfall of the year.  It was going to be a
long night.

	JD swatted at his alarm clock, knocking it off the nightstand
without shutting it off, and groaned as he reached for it.  The cold in the
air shocked him, and he burrowed into the covers and slid up behind Daniel.
It was so easy to drift off again, warm and content.

	Daniel's went off, startling them both.  In a foul mood, Daniel
threw back his covers to go shower, then felt the brace of cold air.
"Jesus!  Why's it so cold in here?"  He snatched his robe off his dresser
and wrapped it tightly around himself.

	"Somethin' to do with a lack of heat."  JD mumbled, trying hard to
not wake up.  He could here Daniel down stairs making coffee and threw the
covers back, willing himself up.  He bumped the door jam as he stumbled
into the bathroom.

	After dressing, they sat at the kitchen table and ate breakfast.
"Did you notice the snow?"  Daniel asked.  "Four inches."

	"I better leave the Beamer home."  JD took a bite out of his toast
and talked around it.  "Did you call Tyler and see if he needs a ride?
That Mustang won't be for shit in the snow."  Daniel shook his head, and JD
leaned back and grabbed the phone.  "Isn't that shoot for Perkins and
Walker today?"  Perkins and Walker was a cosmetics firm, and four of the
models JD had recruited were in the group.

	"Yeah, but Tyler's got fill ins all day.  Nothing major.  He needs
to be there at eleven.  Ask him if we need to pick him up."  Daniel cleared
their plates and wiped off the table.  JD listened to the rings,
impatiently waiting for an answer.

"Eight rings.  Where would he be?"

	"Probably at the gym across the street.  Come on, we'll go find
him."  Daniel patted JD's shoulder and headed for the coat closet.  "He
seems a bit obsessed with his body.  I wonder where he got that from?"

	"I never went to a gym in my life unless you went."  JD stated
indignantly.
  "How the hell did I have anything to do with it?"  He pulled his hair out
over a scarf and zipped up his bomber jacket.

	"You told him I was fanatical about staying cut, and that was how I
got my contracts."  Daniel led the way into the garage.

	"I didn't catch the part about me turning him into a weight lifting
zombie."

	"I never went to a gym either, JD.  I'm built the same as I always
was."  Daniel looked across the top of his Explorer as they got in.  "When
you suggested he could be the same by going to the gym, he took it as
gospel from one of his gods."

	"Well it hasn't hurt his career any.  He's one of the top ten for
god sake.
  Is that bad?"  JD was now totally lost with this conversation and threw
his hands up.  "Is there a point here?"

	"Only that you have a lot of influence, and that you need to be
careful what you say.  Calm down, would ya?"  Daniel started the truck and
opened the garage door, backing out carefully.  "I wasn't criticizing.  I
just want you to remember that he worships you, and listens to every word
you say."

	"Well somebody ought to."  JD groused, then smiled when Daniel
shook his head.  "I mean other than you?"  He said innocently.  Daniel
leaned over and kissed him, then went back to driving.

	Tyler stepped off his least favorite stationary bike and grabbed
his towel, mopping his forehead and chest.  It helped to burn of steam with
a good workout, and he had started by maxing out with weights, climbed
stairs, then and road the bike.  He was bushed but felt almost alive after
no sleep.

	He bent over to pick up his Walkman and came up suddenly, unaware
that there was anyone in the room with him.  His head connected with a
solid crack, and someone fell against the wall, moaning.  Tyler spun around
to see what had happened.

	Cannon Yearsley usually worked out in the evenings after school,
but was having his picture taken with the rest of the swimming team this
morning, and had classes at the college this evening.  A habitual early
riser, he'd been at the gym since six am, putting his 6'3" 17 year old
frame through a grueling workout.

	His main event was the butterfly stroke, giving him enormous
shoulders and pecs.  His tight defined stomach and narrow waist gave way to
solid thighs.  Although he wasn't really conscious of his body, other than
its ability to perform, he was built almost perfectly, and was chased
relentlessly by several girls and even one boy, although he didn't ever
return the chase.

	Cannon preferred a somewhat solitary life, not really interested in
dating, or in women for that matter.  He liked to swim, run, and read
history, in that order.  He was, however, most capable of delivering a
sarcastic tongue lashing to anyone that needed it, and was nick named by
his teammates 'Loose Cannon' because of his occasional wild side.

	As he was getting ready to go to the locker room after his workout,
he found a watch near one of the weight machines.  He'd seen the guy that
was working there a few minutes ago, and picked up his gym bag to go see if
it was his.

	The guy was riding a stationary bike, and Cannon walked the length
of the gym, hurrying a little when he saw the guy get of and start to
collect his things.  The guy bent over as Cannon walked up, and just as he
went to tap the other's shoulder and say excuse me, the guy came up fast,
and the back of his head nailed Cannon right below his left eye.

	He groaned and felt himself falling back, his hand coming up to his
eye, and stars dancing in his vision.  A blinding pain erupted over his
face, and he sank to the floor, dizzy.

	"Oh, shit!  I'm sorry!"  Tyler bent down.  "I didn't know you were
there, man.  Are you okay?"  He immediately berated himself for asking such
a stupid question.  The boy against the wall moaned, and blood ran out of
his nose and down across his lips.  Tyler pulled of his sweaty shirt, not
really thinking about what he was doing, and held it to the kid's nose.

	"Help me sit up."  Cannon mumbled, holding up his hand.  The guy
took it and pulled, and as his ass came up, Cannon slid forward and pulled
harder.  He felt the guy smack into the top of his head, then reeled
backward, falling over the upright bike.  "Oh, God!"  He mumbled, trying to
get to his feet.

	Tyler held his hand to his right eye, feeling it burn where the
kid's head hit him, and he started to laugh.  This was just insane, that
they would pound each other in the face with their heads, and he roared as
the ridiculousness set in.

	At first Cannon thought the guy was crying, his chest heaving
rhythmically.
  Then the sound came, and he heard the other laughing.  At first Cannon
was shocked, mostly because he didn't see the humor.  Then it dawned on
him, and he started to chuckle.  The guy laughed harder, and Cannon
couldn't help it.  He leaned against the wall to support himself and felt
tears running down his cheeks.  It had to've looked like the Keystone Cops.

	Tyler sat up and looked at the kid, with his brown hair cut short
and bleach tipped platinum, and held out his hand.  "I'm Tyler Grey."  He
said around a grin and blinking his undamaged eye.

	"Cannon Yearsley."  Cannon shook Tyler's hand and started laughing
again.  "I got blood all over your shirt, dude."  He grasped Tyler's hand
and pulled him to his feet.  "I'm sorry I snuck up on you."

	"It was hardly your fault that I blinded you.  I owe you an
apology."  Tyler shook his head.  "I usually try not to kill people until
I've been introduced."

	"I think I paid you back."  Cannon wiped the blood off his face and
smiled.  "Your eye's already turning purple."

	Tyler started laughing again, almost doubling over.  "I got to be
at work in an hour."  He gasped.  "I have a photo shoot!"  He sat down on
the floor and leaned up against the bike.  "They'll have to cancel the
shoot."

	Cannon started laughing again and carefully lowered himself down to
the floor.  "I'm supposed to get a picture taken with my teammates at ten."
Tyler fell to the side at this news, and Cannon laughed harder.  "It's a
really expensive place called something Camas.  I'll look like I got
mugged."

	Tyler gasped for breath and wiped at the tears in his eye, wincing
when he touched the recently whacked one.  "I work for Broderick Camas, and
I'll get my ass kicked for messing up my face.  And yours."

	"So now what do we do?"  Cannon breathed hard, coming off the humor
high.  Despite the black eye, he liked Tyler, and was hoping that maybe
they could workout together or something.

	"I need some ice for my eye.  You want some?  I just live across
the street."  Tyler stood up again and pulled Cannon up.  "I can talk to
the make up people about hiding your eye a little."

	"Yeah, I'd appreciate it."  Cannon picked up his bag.  "Oh, I need
to shower.  Can I get that ice when I'm done?"

	"There's a shower in the guest room that's never been used if you
wanna use it, man.  I promise it's clean."  Tyler picked up his own bag and
followed the kid towards the door.

	"Cool.  I don't want to put you out, though."

	"Cannon, we just tried to kill each other, and have pissed off two
photographers that don't even know it yet.  You're just going to have to
believe me when I say it doesn't get any better than this."  Tyler stopped
at the desk to tell Brenda he was leaving, and was suddenly not as jovial
as he had been.  She looked up as they approached and shook her head.

	"What the hell happened to you two?"  She leaned forward and looked
hard at Tyler's eye.  "Oh, I don't want to be you today.  Aren't they doing
that big layout?"

	"Yeah, in about an hour."  Tyler smirked, then forced him self to
lean in and kiss her goodbye.  "If I don't see you later, watch the news
and see if Daniel murdered me."

	"I'd kill him back."  Brenda waved as they left and sighed.

	The biting chill of the early morning air slapped Tyler like a
brick and he jogged quickly across the street to his apartment.  Cannon
came up behind him, trying not to shiver.  The stairwell up to the
apartment was blissfully warm.

	"You shouldn't have given me your shirt to bleed on.  You wouldn't
have been as cold."  Cannon stepped into Tyler's place and stood by the
door as Tyler closed it.

	"It's about eight degrees.  That t-shirt wouldn't have done much."
Tyler stepped into the kitchen and pulled out a pitcher of juice, then got
two glasses out of the cupboard and filled them.  "Here, this is high
protein mix."

	"Thanks." Cannon accepted a glass and sipped at it, looking around.
"This is cool, man.  First guy apartment I ever saw that looked like a guy
apartment."  He looked at a small wrought iron sculpture on the table and
smiled.  "That's a Bogencard."  Humbert Bogencard was one of Cannon's
favorite artists, and he knew he'd seen that particular piece in a book
somewhere.  "It's a perfect reproduction."

	"Uh, actually Daniel said it was real."  Tyler sat down and put his
glass on the table, faintly amused at Cannon's shock.  "When I lived with
Daniel and JD, I really liked it.  When I moved out, they gave it to me."

	"Gave?"  Cannon dropped into the opposite chair.  "Dude, if that's
the original, it was over thirty thousand dollars!"

	"Thirty five."  Tyler shrugged.  "I had no idea what it was until
they told me.  I just thought it was cool."

	"Jesus Christ, I'd say it was cool.."  Cannon drank again and set
his glass down.  "Who's Daniel and JD?"  He immediately caught himself and
a slight tinge of pink colored his cheeks.  "I'm sorry.  I don't mean to
ask personal shit.  I blurt things out sometimes."

	"It's okay."  Tyler grinned, liking Cannon's straight forwardness.
"They're the owners of the studio we're going to.  Broderick and Camas."

	"You lived with Daniel Broderick?"  Cannon was shocked again.
Daniel Broderick was a swimming hero at the high school.  Cannon's father
had coached them both when they were in school, and most of their state
records still held.

	"Yeah, why?"

	"Dude, you're amazing.  Their like heroes around here."  Cannon
shook his head.  "If you want to sometime, I'll take you down to the
Aquatic Center and show you all of their medals and trophies.  They event
built the new pool about five years ago.  My dad loves 'em a lot."

	"Your dad?"  Tyler asked and took the last swallow from him glass.

	"Kendall Yearsley.  Ask either of the guys who the name belongs
to."

	Tyler nodded and smiled.  "I will."  He stood up and picked up the
empty glasses and carried them to the kitchen.  "We don't have much time.
The guest room's in there, and there's shampoo and soap and all of that
shit in there."  Tyler pointed across the room.

	"Thanks."  Cannon stood up and grabbed his bag and headed in to the
other room.  It turned out that his nose was tender but not hurt bad, but
his eye was going dark purple under his eyebrow.  When he got out of the
shower, he stood in the steamy bathroom and looked at the darkening bruise,
irritated that it would show in the team picture.

	He heard the trill of a cat and looked down as Mystery sauntered
in, sniffing at his leg, then rubbing up against it.  He grinned and picked
her up.  "Hey, puss cat, who are you?"  Cannon loved cats and had one of
his own, an orange tabby named Dink.
  "Here you go."  He said and put her down, then used his towel to clean
the hair off his still damp skin.

	After he dressed, he walked out into the living room and put his
bag by the door.  He looked around again, entertained by the personality
that would put Star Wars toys on a shelf with an Elvis figurine, and put a
pastel watercolor on the same wall as a seascape.  It was like
anti-establishment, upper class.  Cool.  The cat came to him again, and he
picked her up and stroked her head.

	Tyler came out of his room buttoning his shirt and did a double
take when he glanced up.  Mystery was draped over Cannon's arm like a cheap
fur, purring loud enough to hear at the other end of the room.  "Holy
shit."

	"She's pretty cool, Tyler.  What's her name?"  Cannon ran his
fingers through the thickest part of her neck, causing her to raise her
head.

	"Mystery, because I can never figure her out."  Tyler sighed and
pulled a coat out of the closet by the door.  "Ready to go?"

	Cannon stopped when they walked up to Tyler's Mustang GT and ran
his eyes over it.  "What do you do for a job, man?  I want your life."

	"I'm a model.  It pays okay."  Tyler popped the locks and started
the car to warm up while they brushed the snow off.  There was about two
inches on the hood.
  When they finished, they piled in and Tyler cranked the heat up.

	"Is it hard?"  Cannon asked, interested.

	"No.  Actually, it's embarrassing sometimes to cash my checks for
not doing anything, but I manage to do it."

	Cannon laughed.  "Your girlfriend must feel pretty lucky, you know,
having a model with lots of cash.  You got it made."

	"Yeah."  Tyler answered without conviction.  A twinge of guilt
washed over him as he pulled out onto the street.  He wanted to be
attracted to her, but it was starting to look like he wasn't even a good
liar to himself anymore.  It didn't help having a very attractive guy in
the car.  He stuffed that thought hard, remembering that Cannon was a
minor, and that he had a relationship until it ended, one way or another.

	He parked next to Daniel's Explorer and locked the car when they
got out.  Cannon headed for the main doors, but Tyler took his arm and led
him to the side entrance.  "I have a friend that might be able to cover up
your eye so your picture isn't fucked up."  He said, pulling open the door
and ushering the kid in.

	Cannon was surprised at the hustle of the employees, several of
which were walking to and fro as the entered.  Several offered polite good
mornings, and Tyler pointed down the hall to a side room.  "This is my
dressing room.  Wait here for a minute, and I'll get Holly."  Cannon went
in, and Daniel threw his coat over a chair and pulled the door shut with a
smile.

	Holly Ferguson nearly collided with Tyler as he entered the make up
room.  "Where the hell have you…" She trailed of as she looked up at his
shiner.  "Oh, shit."  Holly was a diminutive elf of a person with an Irish
temper; her flame red hair cut short, and small oval glasses on her nose.
Her face colored red, and she twisted his head to the side and examined the
black eye.  "I don't know if I can cover that, Tyler.  You better find
Daniel.  What happened?"

	"It'll be easier to show you."  He said, picking up her kit and
pulling her towards his dressing room.  "There's a group of swimmers here
to do a team picture.  I smacked into their star at the gym.  He looks
worse than me, and I don't want to ruin their picture."

	"I can't work magic."  Holly huffed.  "It was bad enough when you
got that acne last spring."  She followed him into the room and went over
to the tall kid sitting in Tyler's chair.  Cannon also had his head moved
around roughly to get a better look, then looked up at Tyler.

	"It's cool, Cannon.  Holly's the best."  Tyler opened the makeup
kit and put it on the lighted counter.

	"If this is new, it's going to hurt."  Holly picked up a small tub
and a sponge and started dabbing it around Cannon's eye.  Cannon bit his
lower lip from the pain, but endured it.  "Ty, hand me the toner."  Holly
accepted the other tin of cream and started to blend the colors, slowly
making the bruise disappear.  She finished and stepped back, then took and
eyebrow pencil and darkened his brow a little.

	"That's as good as it gets, boys."  In the normal lighting of the
room, it was hard to tell that the bruise was there at all.  Aside from a
little puffiness, Holly had worked her magic.

	"Thanks!"  Cannon said, pushing up out of the chair.  He admired
her handy work in the mirror, and was propelled out the door by the small
women.  He waved at Tyler and smiled as he jogged down the hall.

	"No sweat."  She stood aside and waved at the door.  "Your team
mates are in studio three, straight down the hall.  Tell the photographer I
said to place you at the right.  He'll take care of it.  Hurry."

	Tyler went to follow, and Holly snagged his arm.  "Now look, you
little shit.  It'll take ten times as long to get you done, and I only have
twenty minutes.  You're doing a long shot for the deodorant ad, and a
series for the Bergman dress socks, so you face won't get into it much.
You lucked out, Tyler."

	Tyler looked towards the door and smiled lightly.  "Tell me about
it."


Tell me what you think.  I've really enjoyed setting up the storyline for
the last few chapters.

rimshot@planetaccess.com
rimshotsplanet@hotmail.com