A/N: I have been absent for quite some time and very busy, but I was inspired to write a short little ditty for my latest obsession, The Property Brothers. Double the fun!

Drew's View

I heard the door to the office gently swish, but I didn't feel the need to look up from my pile of paperwork to see who had come calling. A lifetime of experience with the sound of that particular pattern of footfalls told me it was my doppelganger, Jonathan. Perhaps imperceptible to others, what gave me pause was the fact that his steps were a fraction of a second slower than usual, meaning there was a problem. Trying to read his general demeanor would have been an exercise in futility because no matter what was going on he, at least externally, always remained calm. Frustrated homeowners, late inspectors, out of stock materials, it didn't matter- it never seemed to rattle him much. But even he had his tells and we had been around one another long enough for me to know this was serious. I quickly scribbled my signature on the final bill of sale for our latest property and sighed to myself, preparing for the worst. Jonathan was just as much a perfectionist as me and had demonstrated grace under pressure at many a job site, so if he felt the need to personally come to the office and talk to me it was worrisome to say the least and I almost didn't have the courage to look up from the sea of financial legalese that suddenly seemed much safer territory. And when I did, I wished I hadn't.

It's hard to describe to someone who is not an identical twin what it's like looking at your own face outside of the context of a mirror. It's at times surreal, like an out of body experience essentially watching yourself wearing clothes you didn't put on that day. Of course he and I are entirely different people despite looking alike, and to us the difference is night and day, but every once in a while even I feel a bit disoriented if I'm not paying close attention. Even so, disorientation can't even come close to what I felt when I watched him slowly lower himself in the beige minimalist chair opposite my desk.

Jonathan has always prided himself on being four minutes older as if that somehow equated to 40 years of additional wisdom. Even more irritating is the fact, as he is quick to tell anyone and everyone, that I was something of a "surprise" as if he were ordained to occupy the womb solo and I was some kind of interloper. Rather than revel in the miracle that our hearts were beating in perfect unison the whole time or that by an anomaly of nature we both began life as a single entity, he chose to focus on the fact that he happened to be closest to the exit as though he planned it and that somehow made him the chosen one. We certainly were competitive growing up and to some degree still are. There are times I just want to karate chop him in the throat, but at the end of the day I have always admired his ability to be everything to everyone even when it seemed more trouble than it was worth.

I give him a lot of grief for being emotionally sensitive and sometimes tearing up along with clients when I do what has to be done and crush their dreams by dropping the true price of what a move-in ready home will cost. I feel bad for them as well, but I'm not going to stand there and cry about it because someone has to be the bad guy and voice of reason. I rib him at every opportunity for his plaid fetish, having two toy dogs rather than something a bit more stereotypical of a contractor like a Rottweiler, and for his ability to totally pimp out a pink princess palace for little girls or get misty eyed when designing a nursery for clients. He was never one to turn his back on anyone no matter how much stress a homeowner may heap on him with add-ons or how angry they may get at him for things completely beyond his control like weather slowing the progress of the reno. He has on several occasions worked round the clock to get a job done on time or even early when the homeowners faced hardship despite already putting in long days and being dead on his feet. I am man enough to admit that I simply wouldn't do it- but not to him, of course.

And it is knowing him better than anyone else that made looking at him so hard. There are times when I look at him and it's like a vision of myself if I smoked weed in college with the long hair and laid back attitude. I know for a fact he's way smarter than that, but at that moment I swore he was too stupid for his own good. As long as we have been in business together I knew this day would come, and although I shouldn't have been surprised, I still found myself shocked, speechless, and slightly anxious about what could have been.

Sometimes people ask us if we have that weird twin connection thing as if we share a brain between us. I guess in a way we sort of do in that I find it pretty easy to guess what he's thinking and even though we have different perspectives and interests, we tend to think along the same lines on the things that really matter in life: faith in humanity, a sense of responsibility to others, and above all family. He can tease me for being his airheaded, tool challenged, fashonista "little" brother all he likes, but when the chips obviously fell, I was the one he came to and it made me feel good. I wondered if other siblings or even couples ever felt it the way we did. It wasn't anything we ever discussed or really thought about, it had always just been there. It was at times aggravating but it was comforting too just knowing that there was at least one other person in the world who just somehow got you without really trying.

He didn't need to explain himself although there was no doubt a story behind it, and by the looks of it, quite a good one. I was sure he would tell me eventually, but I got the sense he really didn't want to rehash the experience and that was fine by me. I tried to steady my voice as much as I could so I didn't sound as vulnerable as I felt. "You ok?" I asked with a small, hopeful smile.

He shifted in his chair and to my relief, gave me his half-cocked grin. "I suppose." He sighed.

I knew he was sort of lying by the way he looked down as he said it, but I didn't call him on it and instead reshuffled my mountain of paperwork and straightened the items on my desk as was my habit. He often made fun of me for being so neat, but everything had its place and it would bother me if I left it in disarray. "Ok then," I summed cheerily, "let's call it a day. We can stop for sushi on the way home." If anything would make him feel better, it would be sushi. It was hard to watch him struggle to his feet and I casually wrapped my arm around his shoulder to steady him as we walked to the door. "The Canucks are on tonight." I left it for him to read between the lines. If the roles were reversed maybe he would have been a bit more dramatic about the whole thing, but that just wasn't my style. I didn't quite know what I was in for, but I knew it would likely be a long night for me which didn't matter given the circumstances. I have and always would be there for my brother no matter what.