This is the forty-third story in the Rewriting History series, and it follows Music Is Lethal.

This turned out much shorter than I expected. But as Mali said, Shannon doesn't deserve a longer chapter. :evil :lol

My thanks to Mali, too, for coming up with a non-violent way of dealing with Shannon. :)

Warnings: m/m, AU, bad language. No spoilers for the movie.

~Silk

*****

The Boys Are Not Impressed

By Silk


Shannon let herself in with her key and walked right into an ambush. Jack and the others were on their way out when Shannon happened to appear. Jack took full advantage of the situation.

With a fleet gesture, Jack reached out and plucked the key right out of Shannon's hand. "I'll take that."

"Hey! You can't do that! That's mine!" Shannon cried out.

Jerry appeared at the top of the staircase. "There's no sense in fighting, Shannon. It's the changing of the palace guard."

"An apt turn of phrase, Jerry," Jack conceded with a cool look. "I would suggest that you work a bit harder on disappearing, however, or you and I are going to have words."

"Perish the fucking thought," Jerry sneered. But he moved away from the landing fairly obediently. That immediately raised Jack's suspicions. But he had more pressing matters to attend to.

"Arthur, make a note to have the locks changed. *Now*," Jack ground out, staring at Shannon.

"I'm going to call Security," Shannon threatened, whipping out her cell phone.

"You are inordinately fond of using that phrase, Shannon. I'm not much for nostalgia myself, but why don't we discuss what you wanted to do to Curt the last time he was here?" Jack rarely lost control, and if he did, it was far more likely to be during a moment of passion, but he was positively furious, a fact that did not escape his young lover.

Arthur ran a hand up and down the older man's back in an instinctive desire to protect what was his. He glared at Shannon, his mouth hardening into a firm line. "Am I in charge here, Jack?"

Jack nodded absently, his eyes still fixed on the young woman in front of him. Arthur drew himself up to his full height, surprising Curt, who had never thought of him as particularly tall.

"Get out," Arthur commanded, provoking a curious look from both Jack and Curt.

"Darling, I can handle the silly bitch."

"I don't want her here. Or anywhere near you. Or Curt." Or Brian, he finished silently, and he knew that Jack heard it as emphatically as if he'd said it out loud.

"So Jack...now you're training little boys to do your dirty work for you?" Shannon said, the sneer on her lips destroying whatever beauty she might have had at one time.

"I stand behind no one," Jack said, his dark eyes glittering as though he dared her to push him a little further.

At Arthur's unconscious yelp of disapproval, Shannon laughed. "Hmm...does *he* know that?"

"Arthur, go wait in the car," Jack growled.

Arthur turned wounded eyes on his lover. "No, Jack."

"Baby, please..." Jack said softly.

Arthur shook his head and refused to go. Curt secretly applauded Arthur's decision. You couldn't buy that kind of loyalty. It came with the whole package. Love was just the beginning. There were a good many things that followed.

"I'm with him," said Curt. Arthur flushed proudly, only to sigh in dismay as Jack replied, "No, you're not."

"Dammit, Jack," Curt hissed. "Don't you see what she's doing? She's splitting us apart, turning us on each other."

Shannon threw back her head and laughed. "You give me way too much credit, Curt. And as usual, I don't give *you* nearly enough."

"Go flatter somebody who gives a shit, bitch."

Shannon glowered at Curt. "You might have Jerry scared shitless, but you forget, I've got nerves of steel."

"I haven't forgotten a damned thing," Curt spat, his light eyes throwing sparks that would set fire to anything they happened to touch.

What she did to him was bad. Worse than bad. It was fucking evil. But what she did to Brian was *unforgivable*.

"You want to arm wrestle, Curt? I guarantee I can take you. Any time at all."

She was laughing at him. She was fucking laughing at him. At all of them. Curt felt the old anger rising up in him again, and he wanted to fuck her up so bad, his teeth ached. But Arthur grabbed his arm and held onto him gently. It startled him at first, the consideration of the gesture so emphatically brought home, and then he could feel himself begin to relax.

It was almost like being in Brian's arms. But with one important difference. He wasn't in love with Arthur, and Arthur was a friend. Just as Jack once surmised, Curt had never really had friends. Till now. Now he was surrounded by people who wanted him to be happy, who wanted to protect him, who wanted nothing more in return than a kind word or a smile.

He could do that. He forced himself to back down, even though it went completely against the grain. He was better than her. He was. Because he had Jack and Arthur. And Brian, good God, *Brian*, who made all things possible.

Which reminded him. Brian was waiting for him, at home, and yeah, that gave him a charge that he could never confess to anyone, not even *Jack*. He had a home now. Not a flat. Not a place to sleep. But a home. It was funny how much of a difference that made in his life.

He wasn't giving that up for anyone, but especially not *her*.

"Okay, I think we've wasted enough time here." What Curt didn't say was that he wanted to go home. *Now*. He wanted to bury himself deep inside his lover and not come out for days. Sigh. Unfortunately, though, they were operating on a very tight schedule. They would be leaving on tour at the end of the week.

Making love in the back of a tour bus surrounded by musicians, roadies, and the inevitable groupies had lost its appeal for Curt. He'd been through that with Brian. Now it was his turn to headline, Brian's turn to play sidekick. He had no idea what was going to happen when Brian confronted that particular corner of reality.

So spending the next few days at home with him suddenly seemed of paramount importance.

"We're in. You're out. That's pretty much the way it is, right, Arthur?"

Arthur, who was completely unused to anyone, much less Curt Wild, asking him his opinion on anything, nearly jumped out of his skin. "R-right."

"Right, Jack?" he asked his lover for confirmation.

Jack smiled, a wintry smile that fairly reeked of Switzerland. "I couldn't have said it better myself."

"You don't want to make an enemy of me, boys," Shannon warned.

"Oh, get stuffed," Arthur said crossly, forgetting his shyness for a moment.

Jack unsuccessfully stifled a laugh. "We really need to be going, Curt."

"Yeah," Arthur said brightly. "What he said."

Curt jerked his head in Shannon's direction and said, "Then I guess I should help out by taking out the trash, huh, Jack?"

Jack blinked. What on earth--?

With that, Curt grabbed Shannon and tossed her over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. Shannon squealed loudly, not unlike the little piglet she so often resembled, and thrashed her legs against Curt's back. He ignored her and grinned unrepentantly at his two companions.

They followed Curt as he strode towards the dumpster that sat by the side of the driveway. It was a smelly old thing, something they had often made fun of back in the old Maxwell Demon days, but it would serve a greater purpose now.

"Put me down, you bastard!" she shrieked in Curt's ear.

"Your wish is my command," Curt said blithely, letting go of her.

Shannon fell into the most repulsive sort of rubbish there is: spoiled food. She landed on her back with an "oof" and lay there like a rag doll that had lost all its stuffing.

"Get me out of here!" she screamed, smearing her trendy clothes with greasy fingers.

"Gee, honey, I would, but you don't smell too good," Curt said with a helpless smirk.

His job was done here. Now he could go home.

End