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Prior

Jack had a shadow. She was a tiny, white, enthusiastic shadow, but she was a shadow nonetheless. Wherever Jack went, Sugar followed. He'd decided she needed socialized and the neighbors were a good place to start. Plus, it was a good excuse to go visit people. People like Prior, who he rarely saw out and about since Mark vanished. Jack was concerned, but sometimes he wasn't sure just where the lines were when it came to butting in to other people's lives. It had been long enough that today he realized he didn't care whether it was overstepping or not. Today he simply went to the hut Maureen and Prior shared and knocked on the door.

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"Hi," he replied, taking a step in. The little pup stayed close to his heels, stiff as she stared at the cat who was unlike the one she shared a hut with.

"I haven't seen you in a while, so I thought I'd come say hi. Introduce the new neighbor. This is Sugar."

Prior shot a warning look at Little Sheba over his shoulder. "You'll stay back there if you know what's good for you."

Then back to Jack, he offered a small smile. "Good to see you. I know I've been kind of..." He sighed. "Well, I'm already getting regular lectures from Maureen about how I've turned into a hermit. Why don't you and your friend come in, Sheba's bark is worse than her bite."

"Yeah, I'd kind of noticed," Jack said as lightly as he could. "How are you doing? I never see you anymore."

"Yeah, well, I've been too busy ingesting a steady diet of self pity," Prior said with a touch of dry humor, closing the door behind Jack and the dog. To her credit, Sheba apparently decided to take the high road and sauntered back into his bedroom.

"That bad, huh? Yeah, I kind of thought...well, I'm sorry I haven't stopped by sooner. I figured losing Mark was harder on you than Maureen...and she was a wreck."

Prior shrugged and gestured for Jack to have a seat, then picked up the half-sewn pillow from where he'd been sitting before so that he could get back in the chair.

"We were both a wreck," he said. "Kind of like a depression feedback loop. She's better at putting on a front than I am, though."

"She's a performer," he said, without judgment. Maureen was who Maureen was and he wouldn't have her change for a minute.

"Do you want to talk about it? You should...if not to me, then someone. Someone other than Maureen."

Prior looked down at his hands. He hesitated. "Are you sure? Because if I dump this on you it's not going to be pretty."

"I think I can handle it, Prior," Jack replied, settling into the seat and pulling the pup to his lap. "Spill."

Prior couldn't meet Jack's eyes. "It's not just grief," he sighed. "It's... guilt. A week before Mark disappeared I slept with Roger. At least, I think I slept with Roger. I was drunk, it's a little fuzzy."

"You slept with Roger?" he repeated, his shock palpable. "Why? When? I mean...it's not my business, but...God, Prior. No wonder you're a mess." He paused. "Did Mark know?"

Prior winced.

"No, he didn't know. I was going to tell him... I was, really, only I... never go the chance."

Little Sheba sauntered in from the bedroom then and jumped up on his lap. Prior was grateful to have something to do with his hands. She purred as he stroked her back.

"It was when we were in New York for the weekend. Mark was there but it wasn't my Mark, he didn't remember me. And I drank too much, and I guess... I don't know. God, I don't even know why Roger wanted to. I've only seen him once since then and he wouldn't even talk to me."

A little philandering was so much better than the weekend Jack had gone through with Logan and Joe and Dale, but he had the good sense to keep quiet.

"So, it's just been eating at you?"

"Kind of, yeah," Prior admitted with a sigh. "I mean, that's not the biggest part of it. But on top of losing Mark... I just hate that I fucked it up at the end."

"Okay, I don't know if we've met, but until recently I haven't been a real devotee of monogamy," Jack said. "So...maybe you need to explain this to me a little better. In small words. Just what did you fuck up?"

Prior frowned. "I cheated on him, Jack. With Roger. And I... I am a devotee of monogamy, as you might remember from such dramatic episodes as my breakup with Roger." Not to mention that he was probably one of a very small number of people who had turned Jack down.

Oh right. Roger and Brian. Jack ducked his head.

"I get it," he nodded. "So, what are you going to do now? You can't just hole up in here forever."

"Right, I know." Prior sighed. "I'm working on in. In fact, just yesterday Maureen made me go play welcome wagon for the new guy across the way."

"Scotty?" he asked, brightening a little. "I like Scotty. He's a good guy. New, but I think he'll fit right in around here. What did you think of him?"

"He's... got to be one of the nicest people I've ever met, actually," Prior admitted. "I felt like my devastatingly sarcastic wit might rub off and taint him." His lips quirked a little.

"I think it might take more than one visit for that to happen," he chuckled. "Maybe you'll have to work for it."

Prior snorted. "Well, Maureen joined us, took one look at him, and immediately started pairing us up in her head. I could almost see it. We leave and she's all 'oh wasn't he just the cutest thing, Prior?'"

"Well, he is the cutest thing. If I wasn't married, I'd..." He trailed off. It was surprising how easy it was becoming to simply say that out loud.

Prior smiled a little at Jack's casual mention of his marriage. He knew, of course; it wasn't as if Maureen could have kept her mouth shut about that.

"Speaking of which, I can't believe you didn't let me make you a dress," he teased, and then added, "And as for Scotty, I had a similar thought, but it was less to do with marriage and more to do with T cells."

"I don't think I'm the sort who should wear white," he quipped, then gave Prior an understanding nod. "How are you feeling lately? Is it part of what's keeping you in?"

Prior shrugged. "Okay, I guess. I've been better, I've been worse... a lot worse."

He sighed, and must have tensed a little because Sheba suddenly leapt from his lap. "Part of what's so difficult about losing Mark is knowing how unlikely it is that I'll find that again. Someone who's willing to be with me. Louis wasn't. And with Roger, it didn't matter. I felt like I'd won the fucking lottery with Mark.

Jack wasn't even going to pretend he knew what Prior and Mark had. Not beyond the stray sound that had sometimes escaped the hut in the night.

"He was good for you," he remarked. "I could tell, just from watching you."

"Yeah." Prior's hands twitched in his lap, and then he sighed. "Yeah, he was. God, I miss him. I just... I just want someone to hold me sometimes, you know?"

He nodded. "I know. Everyone does."

It was part of why he'd been so popular for so long. It might not have meant much beyond that moment, but he'd held his share of people when they needed it most.

Prior nodded. Still trying to find something to do with his hands, he reached for the pillow again. It was a patchwork of the same purple fabric that made up the drapes in his old hut, and a number of dark, complementary colors.

"A housewarming gift for Scotty," he said.

"Nice. I made him a lamp. Well, I didn't make it for him. I'd made it and it seemed like a good gift. I can't believe how little that hut as changed since you and Belize lived there."

Prior smile genuinely at that. "I know, right? Though I'm just glad there's somewhere there who appreciates it. I mean, not that the place will ever see a queen like her majesty Miss Belize, but Scotty lit up like a Christmas tree when I told him I'd made the drapes."

"He's adorable," Jack agreed with a nod. "And I think he may just charm me into diving on my day off, just so he can have fresh seafood." The way he said it, though...it was already a done deal.

"Oh! Speaking of his alleged prowess in the kitchen..." Prior crossed his legs and rested the pillow on front of them. "The combined skills of cooking and catering and party planning, with no small amount of prodding from Maureen has hatched into a suggestion that we throw a party here in Bohemia."

Jack smiled and lit up. "I was just thinking about that. I'd like to have one for Logan. November 3rd. It's a...it's a special day," he said, letting Prior decide his own meaning for it.

"Or did you want to do it sooner than that? Given a month, we could really go all out."

"Oh! Well, there's nothing wrong with an occasion," Prior said with a touch of cheerfulness. "And sure, I bet in a month we can plan one hell of a party. Though it might give Maureen an excuse to work on a performance number."

"Like she needs an excuse," he laughed. "I think it needs to be a big deal. He's never had a party thrown for him. I'll need your help with the guest list. If I do the invitations, it'll seem like people are coming because of me and I don't want that. I want this to really be for him." He paused. "And I'd like to keep it a secret from him for as long as possible."

"I think we can do that," said Prior, nodding. "Well, I can do that. And I can force Maureen to do that."

He actually seemed a little brighter now; maybe a project was just what he needed to distract him.

"Have you actually tasted any of Scotty's cooking?" he asked. "I'm sure he's very good at what he does."

"I have. I didn't realize he was cooking, though. I rely on the kitchen...if I had to cook for myself, I'd starve to death," he chuckled. "It's good. Not better than anyone else, but different. Fancier."

"I was never that great of a cook," Prior said, waving a hand breezily (a decidedly queer gesture). "When I did catering I was really more a delegator."

"I didn't know you did catering. What else have you done that I don't know about?" he asked, leaning forward and tilting his head in interest.

"Oh, shall I tell you the tale of my sordid New York life, pre-eighties when we all got shit scared?" Prior asked with a light laugh. "Well, I did occasionally work as a caterer and party planner, yes. Even a club designer, for some sense of the term. But most of the time I simply lived modestly but with great style off of a small trust fund."

"I'd actually kind of like to hear your sordid tales, yeah," Jack answered. "I'll make do with whatever you want to share, though. Why'd you have a trust fund?"

"I come from an old family," said Prior. "I'm the thirty-fourth Prior Walter." He paused. "Well, counting the bastards. And I'm sure that every one of them is spinning in his grave knowing that I will be the last."

"That's...a long line," was all he could think to say. "So...you don't have any brothers to carry on the name or anything?"

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Prior

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