"A Queer As Folk USA FanFic"

by Gaedhal

This is Part 24 -- "Dinner."

Other recent stories in the "Queer Theories" series.

Other stories in the"NOWHERE MAN" Series.

Go back to "Nowhere Man -- Part 23 -- "Phone".

Features Brian Kinney, Dr. Raj Kumar, Nurse Diane Stokes, Waiter, Others.
Rated R and contains no warnings or spoilers.
Summary: Brian goes to dinner with the doctor. September 2000.
Disclaimer: This is for fun, not profit. Watch Queer As Folk on Showtime, buy the DVDs, videos, and CDs. Read the stories and enjoy.

Friday, September 8, 2000:

Brian spent most of Friday morning sitting in a waiting room at the Medical Center. He brought his laptop, thinking that he might work on his article a little, but he ended up mainly sitting in a daze.

Brian was exhausted from being up the entire night with Justin. All those 'lessons' had been great, and Brian had made certain that Justin got in a lot of practice before morning. But all that fucking had worn Brian out. There had been a time when Brian could go for days without sleeping, running on pure energy. Or it had seemed that he had. But too little sleep, too little food, and too much expending of energy in bed had left Brian feeling like a wet washrag wrung out and left on the bathroom floor.

Funny, but when he had dropped Justin off at St. James Academy that morning, Justin hadn't been too worse for wear. In fact, he seemed positively revitalized. But Justin was also seventeen years old and could go like that battery-powered bunny in the commercial. It wasn't even noon yet and, though he was full of as much coffee as he could stomach, Brian's head was drooping. So he put the laptop away and just tried to remain upright in his chair.

After a while Brian stood up and began pacing around the waiting room. Maybe he could talk to Dr. Kumar and cancel this dinner thing tonight. Brian knew he'd promised the old man that he'd go out with the doc and make nice, but it was really the last thing he wanted to do -- especially on his last night in town. Yes, he'd told Ron on the phone that he didn't know when he was coming back -- or IF he was coming back to Indiana. But Brian knew that he had to. He had a contract with the university and he couldn't break it, or else he'd never teach again -- the administration would make sure of that. And going out with Dr. Kumar on his last night in town for, what? Weeks? Months? When he could be out with Justin? Taking him to dinner. Taking him back to the motel. Making love with him....

"Excuse me, but can I get you anything, honey?" It was the nurse at the front desk.

"Oh, no. I mean -- do you know if Dr. Kumar is in his office?"

The nurse smiled at Brian. She was a thin black woman with graying hair and a kindly face. The name tag on her uniform read 'D. Stokes, R.N.' "Dr. Kumar is in surgery over at St. Luke's this morning. But he'll be here this afternoon. You're with Mr. Kinney." It was a statement, not a question.

"Yes," Brian said. Well, that was that. At least for now. The doc wasn't even here yet. He'd probably never get even five minutes to speak to him about tonight. "I thought he'd be here this morning to see my father."

"He'll be in after lunch to talk to you and your dad. His colleague, Dr. Shaw, is seeing Mr. Kinney this morning."

"Yes, I spoke to him briefly this morning," said Brian. Dr. Shaw was Jack's original oncologist, the doctor who had recommended that they consult with Dr. Kumar.

Nurse Stokes nodded at him. "Would you like some coffee, hon?"

"No, thanks. I'm so full of coffee already I can barely move." Brian stood at the front desk, scuffing his feet awkwardly, like a five year old kid. There was really no reason for him to stand there and bother the nurse, but Brian felt like he needed to talk to someone and she seemed friendly and sympathetic.

"Maybe you'd like to go and take a little walk?" the woman suggested. "If you need to stretch your legs?"

Brian shrugged. There was nowhere to walk, really -- the Medical Center was surrounded by busy roads and sterile shopping plazas and Brian had no desire to deal with either of those.

"You're Brian."

"What?" Brian looked up at the nurse. She was shuffling some papers and slipping them into folders. Brian craned his neck over the desk. Maybe she had some sort of file on HIM over there. But that was impossible. "Yes, I'm Brian Kinney."

The nurse laughed. "And I'm Diane Stokes. So we are even!" She reached up and shook Brian's hand. "Don't look so worried, honey! I'm just very nosy. You brought your father here the other day, too."

"Yes, on Wednesday." Wednesday. It seemed like weeks ago. Before he'd been to Liberty Avenue. Before he met Justin. An entire lifetime ago.

"Will you be bringing your dad here regularly from now on?"

Brian shook his head. "No, I live out of town. My mother will probably be coming with him."

"Oh. Well, that's nice." She continued going through papers and putting them in folders.

Another nurse came in and dropped off some more charts and folders, then went out. On Wednesday the office had been buzzing, but today it was quiet. Almost too quiet. Brian was afraid that if he sat down in the chair again he'd go right to sleep. He stopped at the front desk again. "Can I ask you a really stupid question?"

Nurse Diane nodded. "Go right ahead, hon."

"This is really dumb, but... what is Dr. Kumar's name? I mean, his first name. I... I'm just curious." Brian wondered if his face looked as red as it felt.

"That's not a dumb question at all. Dr. Kumar's first name is Raj."

"Raj. Right. R. V.," Brian said, half to himself. Brian looked over at the nurse, who was watching him with amusement.

"Anything more you need to know, honey?" Nurse Diane lifted her eyebrows.

"No. Thanks," said Brian. "I appreciate it." Brian thought he should sit down, but he wasn't feeling quite as tired while he was talking. And Dr. Kumar's nurse was going out of her way to make him feel at ease. "Have you been with Dr. Kumar very long?"

"About six years," she answered. "Ever since he came here from the Cleveland Clinic. But I wouldn't worry about your dad -- Dr. Kumar IS the best. And I'm not just saying that because I work for him!"

"Oh, I don't have any doubts about that. I'm sure he's great. And I'm sure he's very... well educated." Now Brian really felt like an idiot, trying to pry information out of the friendly nurse. But he knew so little about this man. And Brian hated the thought of going on what was virtually a blind date. Having no clue what Raj Kumar was actually like. What his interests were. What to talk about....

Dr. Kumar's office had been so tastefully bland that it offered Brian no clue at all as to what he was like. Some Monet prints. A big Stickley-style desk. Lots of dark wood. Everything expensive-looking and designed to impress. But also completely generic. Any doctor could sit at that desk, see patients in that office. There was not even a hint of anything Indian or exotic, nothing to say who Raj Kumar was. Brian hadn't been able to discern anything at all about him. Certainly not that he was gay. Brian had been taken totally by surprise by his invitation to dinner.

On the other hand, Brian's offices, as small and nondescript as they always were, screamed out his interests, obsessions, and orientation. Posters for his favorite movies -- 'Strangers on a Train,' 'Red River,' and 'Dirty Dancing.' Reproductions of the dust jackets of classic queer novels, like 'Giovanni's Room,' 'The Olympian,' and 'City of Night.' A picture of Oscar Wilde and his lover, Bosie. Walt Whitman. A very young Truman Capote, lounging on a couch. John Rechy, posing shirtless and in tight jeans, a cigarette in his hand. An antique print of the Houses of Parliament he'd bought at a street market in London when he was over there visiting Ron years ago -- his only trip abroad. Yes, anyone coming into Brian's office would know at least something about him -- if they read the signs.

"Oh, Dr. Kumar is VERY well educated," claimed Nurse Diane. "Cambridge University in England. Johns Hopkins Medical School. The Cleveland Clinic. Only the best."

"Right. The best," replied Brian. So, he was from India and he went to the best schools. That was good for about five minutes of conversation. Unless Brian rambled on about himself. No, he hated talking about himself. There was always so much he was afraid to say. "It's pretty quiet in here today. I mean, compared to Wednesday." Shit, Brian, thought. Next he'd be talking about the weather!

"Many of the doctors have surgery on Friday mornings," she answered. "And Friday does tend to be fairly low-key. But just come in on Monday morning -- you won't find an empty seat in here!"

"So you guys just go with the flow?"

"Oh, yes! We all go with the flow!" Nurse Diane laughed. "Isn't that what you do, too, honey?"

"Pretty much," Brian admitted. "I go with the flow." Brian cleared his throat, embarrassed to be asking so many personal questions about the doctor. The nurse probably thought he was some kind of stalker. "So, Dr. Kumar seems like a nice guy."

"Oh, yes," she replied. "His patients find him very approachable. Some physicians are so off-putting, but Dr. Kumar is truly a compassionate man. I'm sure your dad will find that a blessing."

"Oh, my father doesn't find anything a 'blessing,' I'm afraid," said Brian, grimly. "Especially not what he's going through right now -- no matter how great the doctor."

"A lot of patients are like that at first. But they respond, eventually."

"We'll see about that," Brian sniffed. He had his doubts about his father's ability to be a good patient for the long haul. To be an obstinate and impossible old bastard was more his style. Putting up with Jack Kinney! Sure! Then they'd all see how 'compassionate' the doc really was!

Brian sat back down and tried to read a magazine, but he ended up just staring into space. Occasionally he'd glance over at the desk and see the nurse observing him, curiously. Shortly before noon the phone buzzed and the nurse spoke briefly. Then she called him over to the desk.

"Mr. Kinney -- Brian -- if you go down the hall you can pick up your father and take him over to the Medical Center cafeteria to get something to eat. Then please come back here at 2:00 to talk to Dr. Kumar. All right, honey?" She handed Brian a chart and a small pile of folders. "Take these down to Room 215 and give them to the nurse there."

Brian looked down at the pile. "Will she trade me these papers for my old man?"

"Oh, I'm sure she'll hand HIM over for free!" said Nurse Diane.

"I bet," replied Brian. He picked up his laptop case and tucked the chart and folders under his arm. "Thanks for putting up with me and my stupid questions this morning."

"It was a pleasure, honey." The nurse smiled at Brian. "And have a good time tonight at dinner."

Brian's mouth fell open. "You know... about that? About... dinner?"

She tilted her head at him. "There isn't anything about the doctor that I don't know! And THIS is the biggest news in ages. In fact, I gave him the clue when I saw you come in here on Wednesday." Nurse Diane smiled broadly at Brian. "I made a note about YOU, honey! I TOLD him -- 'Doctor, do NOT let this one go out the door without asking him out!'"

"You... did?" Brian just kept staring over the desk. It seemed that on this trip everyone in Pittsburgh was trying to hook up with him -- or else hook him up with someone!

"I've been trying to get him to go out on a date forever! So, don't you stand him up, you hear?"

Brian was still stunned. "I... won't."

"And dress real nice, too. Because I know where you're going!"

"You do?"

"Of course! I made the reservations myself," Nurse Diane said, proudly. "Just remember, Dr. Kumar is a class act all the way and you can't go wrong."

"Thanks. I think," said Brian, confounded. And the nurse laughed again as Brian walked out of the office and down the hallway to collect Jack.


"Between your nurse and my father -- I think I've been railroaded," muttered Brian.

He was sitting in a corner table in a very dimly lit and expensive restaurant called Papagano's in Pittsburgh's Shadyside neighborhood. When Brian was a boy, he'd always wanted to live in this area. It seemed to him so pretty and green. And the houses were big, old Victorians that looked lived in, but also well cared for. And, of course, his old man used to say that a bunch of queers lived there, so Brian thought it must be a perfect place. Brian was not at all surprised to find that Dr. Kumar owned a large home in Shadyside.

But Raj Kumar only laughed. "I can call Sanjay to come and take you home before your virtue is compromised, Brian," the doctor said. "If you wish." Sanjay was Dr. Kumar's driver. Brian had been surprised when the big Mercedes pulled up in front of the motel and a short, dark Indian man got out and opened the door of the car for Brian to get in. "I am a horrible driver," Raj explained in the car. "It is easier to leave it to Sanjay."

"It's about twelve years too late for my virtue to be compromised," Brian responded. "But thanks for the offer anyway."

Brian was wearing some of his new clothes -- a pair of Perry Ellis pants and the dark blue silk shirt that he'd pressed at his parents' house that morning. And the black leather jacket. He had wondered if that was appropriate. Dr. Raj's nurse -- Diane -- had warned him to dress up for his 'date.' But with a decent tie he certainly passed the Papagano's dress code. And Raj had looked at the leather jacket and briefly fingered the sleeve when Brian slipped into the backseat next to him. Brian knew he looked good and it gave him a thrill to see someone else so openly admiring him.

Because as much as Brian was grumbling, he was surprised that he was actually having a good time. A very good time. And that was bothering him almost more than anything else. After all, he had a committed partner -- supposedly -- in Indiana, as well as a new young lover that he couldn't get enough of waiting impatiently at his home out in the suburbs. So he should not be enjoying himself with a third guy. He shouldn't be. But he was. Brian tried to remember the last time he had this much fun going out with Ron, but he couldn't recall any time recently. No, nothing recently. And that made him sigh.

And one reason Brian was having such a good time was that Raj Kumar was a very interesting man. Not self-important and pompous the way a lot of the professors Brian worked with were -- or even the way Ron could be at his worse. But really fascinating. He had been educated in India, England, and the U.S., but he'd also traveled everywhere -- something Brian had always longed to do. He had spent time in Africa and Japan, and lived all over Europe and Asia. And besides having two 'native' tongues -- Hindi and English -- he also spoke Urdu, Bengali, French, Italian, some German, a little Japanese, and Latin.

"That's AMAZING!" marveled Brian. "No one speaks Latin! I mean, no one but priests."

"Oh, but that's why I HAD to take Latin, Brian," Raj insisted. "After all, I spent eight years in a very strict Catholic boarding school!"

"Are you a Catholic, then?" asked Brian. That was something he could relate to. Especially the Catholic Guilt Factor.

"Heavens, no!" Raj exclaimed. "But all the families in my parents' set sent their children to Catholic schools. My two sisters went to one run by Irish nuns and they STILL speak English with a pronounced Dublin accent!"

"You're kidding!" Brian tried to picture an entire school full of little Hindu girls sounding like his old Grandmother Kinney with her Lucky Charms brogue.

"Not at all. But my school was Jesuit-run and most of the priests were Brits -- hence my own impeccable speech!" And Raj winked at Brian.

Yes, on top of being interesting, he was charming, too. And rich. And good-looking. So how come this guy had to show up right now, when everything in his life was so confusing? Because Brian knew that in other circumstances, simpler circumstances, he could be VERY interested in Raj Kumar.

Raj had ordered a bottle of very expensive wine at the beginning of the meal and the waiter spent a lot of time topping off Brian's glass. Yes, Brian wasn't wise to a lot of things that were happening to him lately, but he definitely knew when someone was trying to get him drunk. And Brian was getting there, slowly, but surely. And it felt good to be drunk. All hazy and warm. And the things that the doc was saying seemed wittier and wittier as the meal went on. Yes, he WAS interesting. And good-looking, too.

And the meal -- Brian wasn't used to such rich food. Papagano's served some kind of Italian 'fusion' cuisine that featured a lot of weirdly flavored pastas and cheeses and combinations of herbs and balsamic dressing over various vegetables and seafood that didn't sound so great on the menu, but tasted pretty good. But, of course, with enough of that extravagant wine, anything would go down easily. Brian usually didn't eat much, but he was managing to put away quite a bit of the spinach ravioli.

Ron liked to eat out, but he was fussy about what he ate and where he ate it. He had a few favorite places that he was certain wouldn't poison him, and most of them were Chinese or Thai restaurants. But Ron also swung back and forth, sometimes insisting on Jewish comfort food like the kind that Lilith made -- and which Brian had learned to replicate exactly -- and other times going in for various fad diets that one of his friends had touted or that he'd read about in some men's magazine. Ron often called Brian a hypochondriac, but Ron was really the one always thinking that he was on the verge of some physical meltdown, whether it was his heart, his liver, or his prostate. And Ron had been on a diet to 'fix' each of those things. Which meant that Brian also had to go on Ron's food regime 'for his own good.' Suffering through the 'raw food' diet. And then the 'no gluten' diet. And, another time, weeks of eating nothing but white food -- rice, white beans, white cheese, milk. Brian's stomach was in revolt from Day One of THAT fiasco, but the diet continued until Ron was finally tired of all that blandness and ordered a huge, spicy Thai meal that put Brian in bed for two days with indigestion. Left to his own devices, Brian usually lived on bagels, apples, and microwave popcorn.

"So why didn't you study overseas, Brian?" asked Raj, sipping the expensive wine. Brian had no idea what kind of wine it was, but it was good. Ron didn't approve of his taking any 'substances,' especially given Brian's addictive past. One glass of sherry at a faculty reception was the usual extent of Brian's alcohol intake. "I thought the Junior Year Abroad was practically a rite of passage for American students?"

"I wanted to -- but it wasn't the right time," said Brian, bolting down another glass of the red wine, which the waiter immediately refilled. He remembered how Ron had said that there was no way he was going off to Europe for even a semester, let alone an entire school year! Not only did Ron need all his money for his project at the time -- a series of short documentaries he was making for WNET, the PBS station in New York -- but he clearly didn't trust the twenty year old Brian out of his sight for five minutes, let alone for five months. Of course, a couple of years later, when Ron got a visiting professorship in England, he didn't hesitate to take off, leaving Brian in the apartment alone for almost nine months. But Brian hadn't minded that much. It had been the only time in his life when he was ever even remotely independent. But he also recalled how relieved he'd been when Ron came back for good. When Brian didn't have to keep all the lights in the apartment on all night anymore.

"I would think that time studying in England would be vital for a student of English Literature," said Raj, picking up the dessert menu and leafing through it.

"I'm an Americanist by specialty, so not really," Brian replied. "But I did spend four weeks visiting my... a friend who was teaching there. He was at the university in Norwich -- that's close to Cambridge and London. I went all over the country on the trains. It was great!" Brian smiled dreamily. "But I never got onto the Continent or anything. Well, to Brighton -- and I looked across the English Channel. But I couldn't see France!"

"So no Paris? Or Rome? Or the South of France?" Raj was obviously thinking of HIS favorite places on the Continent. "That is such a pity!"

"On the other hand, I am intimately acquainted with the South of Indiana, as well as the road across the South of Ohio that leads from Indiana to Pittsburgh!" Brian started laughing and found that he was having a hard time stopping. Yup -- it's time to cut off the wine, that's for sure!

"You seem in a better mood than you were this afternoon, Brian," said Raj, an amused smile playing around his lips.

"Well, put together five minutes of sleep all last night, an entire day of mind-numbing boredom sitting in waiting rooms at the Medical Center, a depressing prognosis for my old man -- and more wine than I've drunk since my graduation from NYU -- and there you have it! A better mood!" Brian guffawed at his own 'wit.' "What I really need to do is to go home and sleep for about four days -- except I'm not sure where 'home' is!"


"Actually, right now 'home' is that very cheap motel downtown where you -- or your driver, actually -- picked me up this evening. Not the type of place that you would ever hang out at, Doc, but it's all I can afford right now." Brian tried to focus on the tablecloth in front of him. He was sure there had been a plate there a minute ago. Right -- the waiter came and took it away.

And the waiter was kind of cute. Short, with dark, messy hair that was a little greasy-looking for Brian's taste. He'd come to the table and said, "My name is Ethan and I'll be your waiter this evening." And he'd stared at Brian and brushed his shoulder a couple of times while he was serving. Even pressed his cock against Brian's arm. Yes, he definitely had! Lots of guys were doing that to him lately. He must be wearing a sign -- gay, horny and clueless! That was it!

Brian tried to shake the fuzzy feeling out of his head. He rubbed his left index finger over the shell bracelet on his right wrist. That felt soothing to him. Calming. Like Justin stroking his throbbing head. Almost as good as his dwindling supply of Xanax for his anxiety attacks. But if he were to take a Xanax on top of all that wine, Dr. Raj would be carrying him to the Emergency Room next! Yes, to the E.R. instead of -- instead of wherever Raj had been planning to carry him. Wasn't that why the doc had invited him out? To get into his pants?

Yes, he needed Justin here right now to take him back to the motel and make sure that he was okay. Undress him and put him in the bed. Then he could go to sleep -- after they fucked, of course.

Except -- Justin was at his own house now. Doing homework. Or something. Maybe he was up in his bedroom, thinking about Brian and jerking off. Brian wondered if Justin had posters of sexy guys on the walls of his room. Brian thought about his own room when he was a kid, with the posters from 'Dirty Dancing' and 'The Empire Strikes Back' on the wall. Patrick Swayze and Harrison Ford -- they were hot! And the photos of Duran Duran on his bulletin board. And the Beatles from the 'White Album' -- he had those on the wall next to his bed. That photo of McCartney in the white tee shirt, his face unshaven, his eyes heavy-lidded and sleepy. Jesus! Brian closed his eyes. And pictures of James Dean in his tight jeans and red windbreaker and Lou Reed in a black leather jacket taped to his closet door. He wondered who Justin thought was sexy. What photos HE usually jerked off at.

"How do you know the type of places where I might 'hang out,' Brian?"

"Huh?" Brian looked up, startled. It was as if Raj had just walked in on him, mentally jerking off.

"I asked what type of place you think I hang out in?"

"Oh, well -- you're a successful guy, Doc -- just like Ron. HE would never stay in some sleazy motel! He'd get a room at the Marriott and figure out a way to charge it to the university as an 'academic expense.' He does it all the time and they never complain. They just pay the bill. But me?" Brian snapped his fingers. "I can't even get them to give me a pencil sharpener for my office! 'Why can't you walk down to the main office to sharpen your pencil, Professor Kinney?' That's what the Chairman of my department said to me! He's a homophobic prick, you know?" Brian confided. "I'll sharpen HIS fucking pencil!"

Raj roared with delight, but Brian looked around, realizing that his voice was getting louder. Yes, his father always got louder when he was smashed. And he was just following along in those big, drunken footsteps. A number of people looked over at them, two men sitting together in the corner of the intimate restaurant. Brian lowered his voice. "That's because I'm a 'spousal hire.' No respect."

"And what in the name of heaven is a 'spousal hire,' Brian?"

"Not much, that's for damn sure," he answered sadly. "Not much at all. Me."

"And who is Ron?"

"Ron?" Brian worked his mouth around. It felt so dry all of a sudden. "He's the REAL hire of which I'm the spouse of." That didn't make sense, thought Brian, did it? "I mean -- I don't know what the hell I mean."

"Meaning your partner?"

"Whatever." Brian looked around for the glass of wine and drained it. The waiter was over at the table in a flash, refilling it.

"I didn't think that it was possible that you were single, Brian," said Raj. "But it seems there is a bit of trouble in paradise."

"Trouble? You don't know the half of it, Doc," said Brian, blinking.

"I'm sorry about that," said Raj. And he seemed to mean it.

"Why? You don't know Ron. And it seems that I don't know him, either. Not like I thought I did."

Raj leaned across the table. "Is it a relationship of long-standing?"

"If you call twelve years 'long-standing,'" Brian replied, wincing. Then he looked up. The dark-haired little waiter was back again with his pad, taking the dessert orders. He was leaning against Brian's arm again. Brian could feel his fairly small, but also fairly stiff cock poking into his elbow.

"The creme brulee, for both of us," said Raj, snapping the dessert menu shut and handing it across the table to the waiter.

"I... I think I need to use the bathroom," said Brian. He knew that if he was going to eat that creamy dessert without losing his dinner, he'd HAVE to sober up at least a little bit. He stood and made his way, as steadily as he could, through the elegant restaurant, searching out the back corridor where the restrooms were hidden. He was determined NOT to have a panic attack in there like he'd had when he went to dinner with Ben Bruckner. He WAS having a good time, after all! There was nothing to worry about! Except -- the meal was ending... and then what? What, indeed?

He was standing at the sink, splashing water on his face, when the door opened and the short waiter slipped in. He latched the door behind him and immediately went for Brian's cock, tugging at the zipper of his new pants.

"Wait a minute!" Brian was shaky enough, but wrestling this guy off his dick was about to send him crashing to the floor. "Um.... what's your name again?"

He was down on his knees and already had Brian's cock in his hands. "Ethan."

"Really -- Ethan -- I... I appreciate the gesture, but could you stop? Please?"

The guy looked up at him, incredulous. "You want me to STOP?"

"Yes, if you would. I... I couldn't do this even if I wanted to...." Brian hadn't felt this tipsy in a long, long time. He didn't even think he could FIND his own cock with both hands.

"Are you kidding? You're fucking hard as a rock!" cried the waiter.

"I... am?" Brian looked down. He was.

"And you're beautiful! Please -- don't stop me! You've been distracting me all evening! I've been looking forward to this ever since you walked in here with that guy!" Ethan jacked his cock and Brian flinched. "Is he your lover?"

"No... he's just a date." Right, thought Brian. The only real 'date' I've ever been on in my life and I'm here in the john, being sucked off by the waiter!

And Brian just hung onto the edge of the sink and let the guy blow him. Shit! It didn't take very long for him to shoot, either. All that thinking about Justin jerking off in his room -- about Brian himself jerking off in HIS room -- and that was that.

Ethan wrote his name and number on his order pad and tucked the piece of paper into Brian's back pocket. "I'm really a musician. I'm just waiting tables to pay for school," he whispered. "Come over and I'll play for you. You could be my inspiration." Then he unlatched the door and slipped back into the restaurant.

"I guess that's another one for my collection," said Brian to the mirror, as he zipped up his pants and tried to compose himself. Then found his unsteady way back out to the dining room to eat his creme brulee and figure out how he was going to get through the rest of his 'date' with Dr. Raj Kumar.

Continue on to "Nowhere Man -- Part 25 -- "Confront". This is the Finale of the series.

©Gaedhal, January 2003.

Send Gaedhal any comments, critiques, suggestions. I welcome all of your comments on "Nowhere Man." Without your feedback I don't know if you are enjoying this series!

Posted January 4, 2003.