Title: Phoning Home
Fandom: Donald Strachey Mysteries (movieverse)
Pairing: Donald and Timothy
Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 2254
References/Spoilers: Vague reference to Donald's military past and Timmy's relationship with his father.
Disclosure: I wish they were mine. Alas, they are not, so I'm just taking them out for a spin with thanks to the men who created them and the actors who brought them to life.
Summary: Even though it's late, Tim just can't wait to call his mother and tell her about "the one."

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PHONING HOME

by

Candy Apple

"Hello?"

"Hi, Mom, it's me," I said.

"Timmy, is everything okay, sweetie?"

Belatedly, I looked at the clock. It was well after midnight.

"Yes, everything's fine. I'm sorry to call so late but I had to tell you something and it can't wait."

"What is it?" There was a combination of apprehension and excitement in her voice that is unique to mothers. They want to share your joy, but there's an element of wondering what the hell you've gotten yourself into now, and how they're going to talk you out of it if it's a bad idea.

"I met someone," I gushed.

"That's nice, dear. Um, I thought you were exclusive with Steve," she ventured. I could hear the note of hope in her voice. She never liked him anyway, and she was probably holding her breath waiting to hear the golden words that Steve had been shown the door. Well, it didn't exactly work that way, but she'd still be happy with the outcome.

"We broke up."

"When did that happen?"

"This afternoon," I said.

"And you met someone tonight? Timmy, honey, it's very easy to think you've met someone wonderful on the rebound. What happened with Steve?"

I paused a moment, and considered telling her we'd just decided to call it quits, but I prided myself in never outright lying to her in my life, even if I'd shaped the truth a bit at times.

"He broke it off with me. He wanted to see other people, and he said he didn't feel the same about me anymore."

"I'm sorry, sweetie. Are you okay?"

"I wasn't, at first. I really thought he loved me...that I loved him. I think I was kidding myself both ways."

"Timothy, you know I have to say this."

"You never liked him," I supplied helpfully.

"Well, I didn't."

"I know that. You were right."

"Wait a moment," she said. "I should wake your father so I have a witness. I was what?"

"Cute, Mom."

"You know I'm not happy about being right if it means you got hurt."

"I know. But, Mom, it doesn't matter. I was wrong about Steve, about our whole relationship and what it meant. I know that now, thanks to meeting Don."

"Don? He's Mr. Wonderful that you met a couple hours after a painful break-up?"

"I know it sounds insane. I know all the things they tell you about love on the rebound and revenge lays and all that, but that's not what this is."

"I don't need to hear the part about revenge lays, dear. Good God, you didn't have sex with him already, did you? Did you take precautions? Is he clean?"

"Mom, I don't really want to get into talking to you about sex."

"You did have sex with him, then? Timothy, do you know how many diseases there are out there, and how many psychopaths are out there who would just as soon cut you up as look at you? And what do you mean, you don't want to talk to me about sex? I suppose you think you were the second Immaculate Conception?"

"Thanks for the encouragement to get back out in the dating scene, Mom, but I didn't have sex with him, so please don't worry about it."

"Thank God. You're telling me the truth, right?"

"Yes, Mom, I'm telling you the truth. It's not because I wouldn't have done it, but he was too much of a gentleman to take advantage of me when I was feeling so bad."

"I didn't really need that admission to make me sleep better at night, but at least it sounds like this Don fellow is a decent guy."

"He's more than that. He's smart and funny and kind...and he's just...he's got...such a good soul inside him. There's just something in him that...I just...the whole room lights up when he smiles. And he's got these amazing blue eyes that you could just drown in, like the ocean. I never get tired of looking into them."

"Does he have wings and a halo, too? Timothy, all I'm asking is that you take a step back and think about this person in the calm light of day, when you don't feel all torn up about Steve."

"Steve? Oh, no, I don't feel all torn up about that. Not anymore. I realized tonight I never felt for Steve even half of what I feel for Don after just a few hours with him. He came to my rescue for no good reason, you know."

"Don?"

"Yes. I was at this club, and I realized it was a mistake - I really didn't want to pick someone up to drown my sorrows in a one-night stand - "

"Oh, Lord."

"I didn't do it, Mom. It was a dumb, self-destructive idea that I decided against."

"You went out and hung around in some anonymous gay bar somewhere?"

"Yes, and I know about the diseases and the psychos." He sighed. "I'm just not the one-night stand type, I guess."

"Well, thank you, God, for small favors."

"I was all set to leave when this guy approached me, and he wasn't taking no for an answer - "

"That's just the kind of thing I'm talking about."

"I know, Mom. But then Don just showed up and pretended he was my boyfriend and gave the guy the bum's rush. It was great. He had no reason to help me out."

"Sure he did."

"Okay, I realize that could be the reason, but he didn't take me up on it, or pressure me for that. You would have had to be there. It's just something about him, Mom. He's different than anyone I've ever met before."

"What does he do?"

"He's a private investigator. He used to work in military intelligence."

"I suppose he's tall, blond, and muscular, too?" she asked. I wondered if she could tell I was blushing over the phone. She knows me too well.

"He's not all that tall," I replied, busted.

"Timothy, you have a weakness for muscular blonds. You always have. I swear you'd date a serial killer if he was a muscular blond."

"Don's not a serial killer, Mom."

"I was making a point. You know I wasn't being literal."

"I admit, I'm physically attracted to him. Who wouldn't be? He's handsome, and yes, muscular, and those eyes and that smile...but mostly it's that...something inside him I just can't quite describe. When he smiled at me - "

"I know, the room lit up."

"Well, it did. We're going out Saturday night. Dinner and a movie marathon."

"Before you go out with him, you should check him out."

"What, run a background check on him? He's the private eye, not me."

"Don't you have friends on the senator's staff who can do things like that?"

"I probably do, Mom, but I'm not going to invade his privacy that way. He's a nice guy. I want to get to know him the old fashioned way. Because we talk and I learn things about him, not because I ran some computer check on him."

"Don't you think he'll check you out?"

"What?"

"He's a private investigator, you said so yourself. Don't you think he'll run a check on you?"

My mother is a shrewd woman. There are times I can't stand her because of that, but it's also why she's still one of my favorite people to talk thing through with. She doesn't pull any punches, and she often thinks of things I might miss. She's just like me, only smarter and with more years of life experience under her belt. I will never, under any circumstances, share that observation with her.

"No, I don't think he will," I said, not prepared to let her have this point just yet. I'd given her the credit that she was right about Steve, but I wasn't going to succumb to her skepticism about Don. I was reeling from a bad case of love at first sight, and I was fully prepared to run with it, even if that was yet more stupid and self-destructive than going to the club in the first place. All I knew was that I felt a hell of a lot better than I had a few hours earlier, and Don was the reason.

And he was a beautiful, sweet, kind, affectionate...muscular, blue-eyed blond. Still, I suspected that even if Don was a chubby little bald guy, the thing that really drew me to him would still shine through those eyes of his, and in that smile. And I really didn't think he'd invade my privacy, either, by checking my credit and looking for a criminal history. But, of course, she had planted the seed, so now I was stewing on it, wondering.

"If you really like this man, then I'm glad you met him. Just be careful, sweetie. I don't want to see you get hurt."

"I was careful with Steve and I still got hurt," I said, some of the pain of that situation still gnawing at my gut, even though I was almost to the attitude of "Steve Who?" after spending the evening with Don. "I'll be careful, Mom. I usually am. I was just out of it after the argument with Steve and some of the things he said...I made a stupid choice, and fortunately, something good came out of it."

"Hopefully I'll meet Don when I come to visit over the holidays." It was almost Halloween now, hence the horror movie marathon we were going to see Saturday night. She was subtly suggesting that if he was still around in a couple months, she'd be anxious to evaluate his worthiness. My father was still irate that I'd switched teams. Not that I was a fallen seminarian or that I was openly gay. It was my decision to become a Democrat that divided us.

If his congressional career tanked, and mine never took off, I figured we could do a father-son debate show on one of the news networks and probably make millions. We'd proven we could keep arguing until we were hoarse or my mother split us up, whichever came first. And that's if he was speaking to me at all. The truth is, we're a lot alike, too, in a number of ways, just not in our political views. And since politics is his life, and essentially my professional life, it's hard to set aside being on opposite sides of 90% of every issue.

So Mom planned on coming up to see me between Christmas and New Year's. I was still more than a little wounded that Dad was okay with that, that he didn't want to see me at the holidays, but I was hopeful time would chill him out a little. Maybe it was easier on him with his conservative Republican colleagues and friends to exile his gay Democrat son from the family. I mean, before the party change, there was always a chance I'd either repent my gayness, or at the very least, become a Log Cabin Republican. In any event, he'd still be left with a reasonably presentable good Republican boy.

Maybe when re-election was no longer an issue, he could be my father again without causing himself undue embarrassment. I give him credit for accepting my orientation as well as he did, but I can't believe after weathering that, he could turn off his feelings for me as my father when I joined Senator Glassman's staff. His exact words were that I "had become unrecognizable" to him, that he wondered where all the values he raised me with had gone.

"I can't wait for you to meet him, Mom. You'll know why I'm in l - why I like him so much as soon as you do."

"You're in love with him?"

"I think so. I know it's nuts. Mom...I really think he's the one. I just feel it. I've never felt this way before."

"Love at first sight is very romantic, sweetie, but be careful."

"I know. I will. But you just have to meet him, Mom. He's...special."

"Take your time and get to know him. I hope he lives up to how you feel about him."

"He will," I said, and I was smiling again. I seemed to be unable to talk about Don without smiling.

"Call me after your date."

"I will. You know, maybe on Sunday."

"Timothy, behave yourself."

"I'll call you Sunday, Mom. I love you."

"I love you, too. Be a good boy."

"I always am," I replied sweetly.

"Mm-hm. A good boy with a weakness for muscular blonds."

"Do you blame me?"

"No, not really," she replied, laughing softly. "Goodnight, honey." She hung up the phone, and so did I, sitting there with a big, stupid grin on my face.

I had no idea how I was going to make it until Saturday night.

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