Chapter 1, Part 4, Episode 7

And was on the phone all of 5 minutes of stepping out the door.

Message.

Message.

Message.

Nuts, Alastair thought. He tried going back the next day, but the door was locked, the curtains drawn, and there was no sign of life. Before the police were called, the man kicked the dirt, swore until the paint peeled, and left.

That, it seemed, was that, but Alastair was an Abercrombie, and when he wanted something, defeat didn’t even cross his mind. He did, however, have to form a different battle plan.

In the time they had been dating, Finn spilled the beans enough for Alastair to have some idea of the man’s schedule, and when the New York comic convention came up, Alastair was the first one on the plane.

“You gotta be kidding,” one of his friends said at the plan. The initial plan.

“What?” Alastair asked, huffy.

“You’re just going to show up in the middle of a comic convention and plead your case? After following him across the country? Stalker!”

“It’s romantic!”

“It’s freaky!”

Alastair fumed. “Shut up.”

“Stop being Abercrombie and start being Al.”

Bitch. “Fine. What would you do?”

It was stalker-y; just showing up and declaring undying love like a…well, a stalker. So Alastair ditched the idea of having an audience. It wasn’t hard sneaking into the Jacob Javits Center through the loading bays. He got there as the con was being set up, and with his muscled build and phantasmagoria of ink, Alastair easily passed himself off as a construction worker for one of the crews. (And like this wasn’t sooooooo stalker) He even helped set up a pavilion. No one recognized him as the world’s premier surfer. Which left him a little pissed.

He finally spotted Finn. He was setting up his paints, and what looked like a mini-studio-slash-watch the painter paint thingee.

“We’re talking,” Alastair growled, sweeping by Finn, taking the bigger man by the arm and all but throwing him through a side exit. The only way Alastair pulled it off was because Finn, although so much bigger, was in complete shock. “Alastair? What are you doing here? Let me go, you damn stalker!”

“Shut up.”

They were in one of the side corridors that riddled the building.

“What are you doing here? You followed me? Get your hands off me before I—“

“Go all light-showy on me?” Alastair finished.

That shut him up.