I hope this is a good start, know I've been having this idea for a while and I just got inspired to write (or better yet, flesh it out better) from sum1cooler and his Cargan/Kames story "Love Above the Law" and yeah. He's so great, I love him :). Anyways, I don't think this'll be updated until Beware the Superman ends, which'll be soon since it only has two chapters or at least towards the end of 2011. But yeah, hope you all enjoy another story of mine. . .I'm sorry.

Disclaimer: I don't own BTR


The canvas was bare, no markings and no strokes of the colorful pain that sat on the palette waiting to be mixed to create the beautiful hues and shades that would undoubtedly create a splendid masterpiece. But the artist sat there, pale hand holding delicately the paintbrush with little bit of green paint on the bristles. Nothing coming to his mind, nothing making his wrist move in a large, wild stroke or a dainty dab. He sat there and stared, only white in his vision as he tried to wait. Wait for inspiration to hit him to paint something, to create a masterpiece. To create the masterpiece that he could make a collection out of and gladly be displayed in museums all over the world. Just had to wait. . .wait. . .

The phone rang and the wrist jolted in surprise, green splattering and making an ugly blotch of paint on the canvas. The brown eyes widened, looking at the wasted canvas before cursing under his breath and tossing the brush off to the side. He got up, rushing across the practically bare studio to grab the phone off the hook, hastily pressing the green button and pulling the device up to his ear.

"Hello?" the artist answered with eyebrow furrowed.

"Logan?" he heard the familiar voice ask and he leaned against the table in slight confusion.

"Dak? What is it?"

"You need to come to the hospital. Like right now."

Logan frowned, "What's going on?"

"It's Camille. Look, will you just get down here?" the man plead and Logan felt his lips turning more into a scowl at the sound of things. He hadn't seen Camille in a long time, he hadn't seen his kids in a while either. But the two agreed it was better to stay out of each others personal affairs unless it involved their 16 year old and young 7 year old.

"What's going on, I want to know what's wrong before I go over to the hospital for-"

"She got into a car accident, Logan! She's dead!"

And that was when the phone slipped from the shocked man's fingers.


They were a nice couple, married young and both well educated and well financed. Everyone thought that they would stay together until they were both old and with bunches of grandchildren running at their feet. They had a first born son, Liam, with pretty brown eyes like Logan and headstrong like his mother. And eight years later, they were blessed with a beautiful baby girl, Monica. Button nose and hair that fell into pretty brown curls just like her mother's. Logan couldn't say how much his children resembled her, he loved them so dearly and never wanted to hurt them.

Only, he did.

It was all an accident, really. He didn't mean to get caught, better yet he didn't think he'd get caught. Though he loved the children, he also felt a sort of foll in his heart for the relationship and the role he was to play. He was a father trying to get an honest job, one of those jobs with him having to go to work in a suit with briefcase in hand, giving a kiss to his wife's cheek and promising to come home right before dinner and a bright smile on his face. Smiles, he always wanted to make sure he saw smiles on their faces. Even if he would respond with a somewhat broken and empty smile himself.

Empty. . .that was just how he felt.

There was just something missing the moment that Liam was born and Logan noticed it quickly. The way how Camille's beauty was starting to fade as a slow attraction began to appear for one of his superiors at the firm. The attraction grew into arousal, simply the thought of the superior made Logan's skin shiver and heat, erotic fantasies playing through his mind at the thought of them together instead of him and his wife. He thought maybe it was just a phase, maybe he just needed to spend more time with the family to stop thinking those things. Maybe he just needed to focus on Camille more, to banish those thoughts and try to confirm that he was in a happy marriage. Hence, the conception of Monica. But even after their daughter was born and Logan just fell more in love with his children. . .

It was still there.

He craved it, he longed for it, he began to secretly snoop around and try to catch his superior leaving the firm to chat up and grow close. It was horrible, he felt disgusting for doing something like this but he just figured he'll try it. Just one little fling and he can beg to Camille how he was so sorry and he wouldn't ever betray her again. Just one try, one taste. Logan didn't think he'd get caught, he didn't think he'd get caught if he brought his superior to their home while Camille was out with the kids. He didn't think his heart would beat so fast as they stripped, lips attacking his throat and hands roaming his body to touch and fondle roughly and passionately. He didn't think it would have felt so good, each and every thrust making Logan gasp and toes curl in pleasure. He didn't think he would have liked it so much, he didn't think that actually, he wanted more of it.

But he never did.

For when Logan was drawing near his climax, his body quaking from the upcoming orgasm and face sweating and mouth open to scream out the name of his lover, the bedroom door opened and his voice croaked as his head whirled to see. Liam, aged 11, with bag of clothes he just couldn't wait to show his father standing in the doorway in shock. Logan tried to cover the two of them up, to try and hide his own embarrassed and humiliated face from his son instead of shouting at Liam to leave or to close his eyes. It only grew worse when he heard heels on the hardwood floor followed by a loud, feminine scream. All because Logan was caught.

Caught having sex with his male superior.


Logan felt sick as he walked into the sterile, white halls of the hospital and seeing Dak sitting by the two Mitchell kids. He gulped, slowly approaching and the assistant looked over his shoulder and gave a weak sort of smile. He patted the little girl's back, she turning as well and Logan could tell that she was crying, her doe brown eyes puffy and red. She hopped off the chair, running to Logan with open arms and already small sobs and Logan swooped her up into his arms.

"It's alright, sweetie. It's alright," he said softly, feeling tears soaking his shoulder and little hand clenched his arm tight.

"M-Mom-mmy, I w-want Mommy," she cried and he sighed, holding and squeezing her tight. He looked as Dak got out of his seat and straightened his tie, looking at the little girl with concern.

"Camille was running late picking them up from school and-"

"Why didn't she tell me? I would have picked them up, I'm not doing anything."

"That's for sure," a bitter voice muttered and Logan looked at his eldest son, the teen not looking back at his father and only turning the music back up on his mp3 player. Dak let out a sigh.

"He's. . .he's still mourning," the assistant said weakly and Logan only gave a slow nod. Liam wasn't just mourning, it was mourning plus the five year build up of resentment towards Logan. For cheating on his mother that loved him. For cheating on his mother with a man, even worse. For basically showing him that he wasn't the greatest and wonderful father that the boy used to brag to his friends. Hah, Logan didn't even remember any more events Liam had invited him to come to ever since Camille and he divorced. Logan gave Monica another small bounce, hearing the child sniffle and hiccup and he kissed her hair.

"Do you want some ice cream, sweetie? With hot fudge and sprinkles piled high just the way you like it," Logan offered and she pulled away from Logan's shoulder to look at her father, raising one hand to wipe her eyes.

"With whipped cream?"

"Mountain of it," he said with a small smile and Monica cracked a sad smile back, sniffling and rubbing at her eyes again. Logan turned to Dak, the brunette sticking hands into the pockets of his slacks and leaning off to the side.

"Mr. Mitchell," Dak replied, regaining that formal tone he used when speaking with Logan, "I should be getting back to the firm before I am late again."

"No, no, it's alright. . .thank you for. . .bringing them and calling me," Logan said quietly and Dak just gave a slow nod of the head, clearing his throat and continuing to walk out of the hospital. Logan had a better hold of Monica in his arms, the girl clinging to him tightly as he turned to look at the elder child. ". . .Liam?"

He didn't respond, as expected and Logan frowned. He walked over, stepping in front of the brunette and tapped his foot. "Liam, I am talking to you."

Brown eyes flickered over to look in his direction then to flicker back and stare off at something other than Logan. Logan sighed, "Liam. . .please. . .do you want me to get you some ice cream too? You still like vanilla swirl, don't you? With caramel and nuts?" he asked and he saw his son's lips twist from scowl to smile and back. He huffed, getting onto his feet and shoving hands into his pockets.

"Let's just go, I don't care if you get me ice cream," he muttered and began to walk off as Logan watched his retreating back. He felt his daughter snuggle into the crook of his neck, giving a little sniffle.

"I want Mommy," she whispered and Logan sighed, hugging her tight and kissing her hair again.

A double scoop of ice cream was in order.


"Wow. . .I'm sorry to hear that man," Stephanie King said over the phone as Logan rubbed his head.

"Yeah, I know. . .Monica's been sleeping in my bed for the past two nights and we're trying to get everything moved from Camille's place over to here. . ."

"You know what, you could use a break."

"I can't do something like that, Steph. Monica really needs her father and Liam-"

"How is he anyways? Still hating the world now that you're forced back in it?" she asked, humor in her voice that Logan cringed at. ". . .Sorry, too soon?"

"Far too soon," he muttered and she sighed.

"How about calling Dak and let him babysit, they like him, don't they?"

"He's my assistant, not the nanny. I can't just call him like this and-"

"Oh come on, Logan. I'm trying to alleviate some stress for you. Hey, there's a real nice venue in the city with music and dancing, you want to go with me?" the woman asked and Logan glanced at the clock. It was around nine, Monica and Liam didn't have school tomorrow so they could stay up for the night. Or maybe. . .

"Is it family friendly?"

"I would advise against it. Half-naked people walking around isn't really 'family friendly'," the woman replied and Logan's eyes widened, hand that was holding a dried paintbrush gripping tightly.

"Are you inviting me to a strip joint?" Logan hissed.

"A strip joint?"

Logan turned, Liam standing in the doorway of the studio looking at his father in disbelief as Logan pulled the phone away and pressed the red button. He placed the phone down on the counter, trying to return to cleaning the paintbrush more and feel the brown eyes begin to bore into the back of his head. "Glad to see that you haven't changed, sleazing around still-"

"You know that's not what I have been doing," Logan said sternly, placing the brush down to give his son a reprimanding look that the boy rolled his eyes at.

"Then what's the talk about going to a strip joint for? Leaving me and Monica now while you're with whores-"

"Watch your mouth," Logan said darkly.

"Oh right, male whores," Liam spat and Logan felt a flush of heat erupt over his face. Liam turned on his heel and Logan bit his lip.

"Where are you going?"

"Out."

"Out where?"

"Not out with whores like you," Liam replied and Logan's eyes widened. The father began to run, trying to catch up with the teen that was currently moving fast as if the ground had caught fire and Logan was shouting at him to come back. The teen was out of the door and getting into a car when Logan managed to get down the stairs and into the hallway. He ran out the door as the car sped off down the street, music blaring loudly from its speakers and Logan screamed out as if the car would just come back from his words.

"Liam! Liam! Liam, you are grounded when you get home!" Logan shouted out into the nothingness and then felt a bitter smile come to his face. More like if Liam even wanted to come home, or if Liam would even care about the punishment. He was never good punishing his children, usually that was Camille's specialty. And now. . .Logan let out a sigh, breath coming out like a thin fog and dissipating into the air as he turned and walked back into the house. He closed the front door, leaning against the wood and rubbing his head.

"Daddy?" he heard a soft coo and he looked up, Monica standing in her PJ's and holding a stuffed animal in her arms. "Where did Liam go?"

Logan sighed, picking the girl up into his arms and giving a little kiss to her nose. She giggled, kissing her father back on the nose as well and he sighed.

". . .Honey? Do you want to stay at Uncle Dak's for a little while?"


He felt a little bit bad, bad for leaving Monica at Dak's with his assistant just letting it slide for the time being. Dak liked kids, he positively adored children with all his heart. Logan wondered why was the man spending time running around making errands for him instead of becoming a father himself or going into a field of work where there were children galore. But he was glad that he was able to take Monica on such short notice, even more glad when he didn't mention the fact that Liam wasn't accompanying them. He called the teenager's cell phone countless times but only received the voicemail. He just hoped he was alright, he just hoped his son wasn't out and about doing reckless things.

But right now, he was being tugged into a dimly lit bar by Stephanie herself, the woman grinning as Logan got a good look of the interior of the place. Very well designed and extravagant if it was a strip club. More like it was a cabaret show, though everyone that worked there was scantily dressed. Even the men, black vests and black pants with no shirt was the uniform for them and Logan found his face growing hot at seeing the muscles move with each unintentional flex and curl as they carried trays of alcohol to the respective table. He felt Stephanie nudge him and he shook his head, embarrassed as she gave a small smile.

"Hey, hey, let's take a seat before the main show begins," she replied, pointing at an empty table and Logan bit his lip.

"Maybe I should just go home. . .or go look for Liam-"

"And you don't know where he is, Logan. What are you going to do, drive around city and check every single house?"

Logan didn't really know what he'll do, he just was hoping (or better yet praying) that Liam was going to come home and be right back in his bed safe and sound. Liam was a smart kid, he wouldn't do anything brash or idiotic. . .Logan hoped. He just let Stephanie pull him to a table and let him push him down into the open chair. Stephanie sat across from him, turning her head to look at the main stage and the act that was slowly ending. It was a blond woman, giving a little strip tease with flirty eyes and slow twists of the hips that made the people whistle and hoot as she smiled a cherry red smile. No one was throwing money on the stage or anything like that, maybe this wasn't a strip club. That, or the dancers weren't allowed to get tips. Or maybe they got a little jar and-

Why was he thinking on this like it was rocket science?

She exited the stage, running behind the tall velvet curtain as people gave applause and the lights dimmed. He could hear people whispering around him, saying 'Oh, he's going to be on soon', 'I can't wait to see him', 'And he's so sexy, lord'. Logan felt himself twitching in slight anticipation, who was it that everyone was whispering about? He looked towards Stephanie, the woman giving him a little, knowing smile as she jutted a thumb towards the stage.

"Big favorite here, he's new," she replied and Logan looked towards the stage, now seeing a silhouette in the dark. A spotlight slowly began to come upon center stage, on a person dressed in a silky, black tux with bowler hat tipped down to cover the eyes. Though, Logan could see a smile. A smile that he was instantly caught and drowned in. The hand that held the brim of the hat tipped it up and large eyes flashed to look at the audience, carrying an air of flirty trickery that made Logan shake as the music began to play loud and strong. The man turned, jacket of the tux stripped off and hat tossed off to the side as two women danced onto the stage in outfits similar to his. But Logan's eyes weren't focused on them, he was focused on him.

To say the man wasn't beautiful would have been a lie, he was stunning. Gorgeously tanned skin that seemed to give off the perfect glow in the spotlight as he gently began to pop open one dress shirt button at a time in beat with the music. Logan felt his mouth watering as rippling muscle began to come into vision, not hard defined but enough of a soft curve yet tone muscle to get Logan slowly aroused. Gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous. And the way that he twisted his hips just right, thrusting at the right angle as he danced and slid across the stage was perfect and amazing. There was a Latin flare to it, a strength and he was clearly not shy even though his face was almost childlike. Innocent, yet seductive.

And then when he opened his mouth, Logan felt his mouth had gone dry.

The voice. The voice was gorgeously loud and strong, filling the entire parlor. Logan wondered if he had a mic on or something, he had to have a mic on. Yet, Logan found himself slouching over the table to look in amazement as the man sang in a Spanish and luring melody and danced, half-naked and body giving a sheer shine of sweat. So beautiful, so amazing, Logan was stricken. He didn't believe in love at first sight, otherwise he possibly would have never married Camille. Not that he didn't care about her, but the love between them wasn't the same as this sort of. . .infatuation he was feeling now. An infatuation, that was what this was. Nothing to get worked up for, Logan. No need to get all hot over a dancer. No need to notice how the dancer was approaching the edge of the stage with thumb in the brim of his pants pulling it down in a teasing fashion and winking.

Winking at him.

No! No, it was just a part of the act, why was he thinking about this? This kind of thinking was what got him a divorce with Camille, got him separated from his kids for short periods of time, got Liam to resent him. But. . .he couldn't stop. So many things were running through his head from the sight of the dancer, the Latino dancer with that beautiful smile as he gave his bow and people clapped. How that figure would have looked like if it wasn't just a simple bright spotlight on him but of a multitude of colors. Different colors that would make those chocolate eyes pop and that seducing smile more alluring to the eye. Or if that figure was under a blanket, looking under lidded eyes with charcoal that shaded those eyelashes and black locks. Or chalk. Or pencil. So many ideas began to form in Logan's head as the lights dimmed but his mind surely did not.

He just found his inspiration.