Declan pushed his lover back against the wall of their bedroom, his mouth moving hungrily over Sey’s. When Declan released him, Sey ran his hands down Declan’s body, stopping at his belt. Declan clasped Sey’s hands in his with a grin. "Were you really going to let Sasha kick that jerk?"

"Hell, yes! He deserved it. Too bad Michael got in the way," he added regretfully.

Declan chuckled softly and nuzzled the side of Sey’s neck. Sey giggled. "That tickles!"

Declan opened his mouth, sliding his tongue along Sey’s ear. Grasping his lover’s earlobe in his teeth, he reveled in the silken feel of Sey’s skin. "Such softness," he whispered.

Sey, who until that moment had been purring contentedly under Declan’s ministrations, laughed. "Not everywhere," he said significantly.

Declan licked the side of his face. "Mmm...I’ll have to check."

Sey pulled away from Declan with a huge sigh. Kicking his boots off, one at a time, he sat down on the end of the bed. Declan studied him a moment before joining him. "Something wrong?"

Sey leaned against him, his dark eyes troubled. "Emmy was so upset. When I put her to bed, she begged me not to leave. I stayed with her till she fell asleep...but she was crying, Dec, in her sleep."

Declan rubbed Sey’s shoulder, a frown replacing his earlier insouciant smile. "The puppies?"

Sey nodded. "That...and Chris going to school in the fall." Sey thought for a moment, raking a restless hand through his thick dark hair. "Shit, Sasha will be going to school, too. No wonder she feels deserted."

Declan hooked an arm around Sey’s neck and pulled him closer. He kissed him tenderly. "Why do I get the feeling that you’re identifying with her, acushla?"

"Who, me?" Sey looked startled. "No one’s leaving me, Dec. I mean..."

Declan kissed him again. "Aye, he is. You’ve just discovered how much you care about this kid, and he’s going to school in the fall, love. Of course he’s leaving you, too."

Sey’s eyes clouded with pain and some degree of bewilderment. "I don’t get it, Dec. It’s not like he’s going to boarding school or something. He’ll still be home...after school." His voice broke.

"And you’ll be at work," Declan finished for him.

"And I’ll be at work," Sey echoed. "Oh, man..."

Declan pulled Sey into his arms and held him. Sey pressed his face against Declan’s chest. "I don’t want to miss him growing up, Dec," he said softly.

"We’ll work it out, baby. You’re the manager. You don’t have to be at the bookstore at night anymore. Get someone you trust to run things for you."

"What about the money? I close up at night, make the bank deposits and all," Sey said anxiously.

Declan tucked Sey’s head under his chin and stroked his hair. "After Sasha’s in bed, you can still swing by the store and pick up the money."

Declan’s affectionate caresses soothed Sey’s troubled heart. "You think of everything, Dec," he said, his voice filled with wonder.

"Well, not everything, baby." Declan pressed a kiss to Sey’s hair. "I can’t seem to get a certain someone into bed with me."

Sey chuckled. "Am I being difficult again?"

Declan stared intently into his lover’s deep chocolate eyes. "No, love, I think tis just the way you are."

"Hard to get?" Sey grinned.

"You like to make me work for it, don’t you?" Declan whispered huskily, his lips almost touching his lover’s. They were so close, Sey could feel the slight puff of Declan’s breath on his skin.

"Not intentionally."

"Like I said, then...tis just the way you are." Declan smiled. He could feel Sey’s long, slender fingers in his hair. Working through the long red curls.

Declan claimed Sey’s mouth with full rights of possession. He unbuttoned Sey’s shirt, pushing the material to the sides with both hands. His mouth still locked onto Sey’s in a fervent kiss, he slid the shirt off Sey’s shoulders. Tracing a circle around his lover’s flat male nipples, he broke off the kiss with a soft shuddery noise.

Sey’s eyes were so dark, they were almost black with desire. And something else. "Declan?" He touched Declan’s face with his fingertips. His fingertips were so sensitized, he felt a thrill ripple throughout his entire body as Declan’s light stubble abraded them.

"Sometimes I pull away cause..." He dropped his head, but Declan tipped his chin up with one hand. "What?"

"Cause I’m afraid of...overwhelming you..." No tears glittered in those dark eyes this time. Just pure, unadulterated love. "With all the love that’s inside of me."

Declan murmured. "You don’t have to hold anything back with me, baby. You couldn’t...ever...love me too much."

He felt Sey relax against him, and Declan took full advantage. With a soft cry, he pushed Sey onto his back, completing the task of removing their clothing quickly. Declan loomed over him, like some fantastical Celtic warrior, his long red hair trailing in tantalizing fashion across Sey’s lower body.

For long moments, they merely gazed into each other’s eyes, something sacred and unspoken passing between them. Then it began. The possession. Declan claimed him, moving sinuously between his thighs. Sey shivered, his mouth seeking the pale column of Declan’s neck. Gasping heatedly, Sey sank his teeth into that tender part of him.

They might have wanted to take their time, but they were racing towards the pinnacle too quickly. In a few breathless moments, Sey threw himself into freefall, only to be followed by Declan seconds later. Panting, Sey kissed Declan, and Declan, his shoulders gleaming with sweat, kissed him back.

As hard as it was, Declan pried himself away from Sey. He walked to the bathroom and grabbed two towels. One, he tossed to his lover, the other, he kept for himself.

When they were both done with the towels, Declan let them fall over the side of the bed. Sey laughed. "What do you think, the maid’ll get that, Dec?"

"I’m trying to break my compulsively neat streak, love."

"Ooh, today a towel on the floor, tomorrow what? Dirty dishes in the sink?" Sey sounded playful. Declan was relieved. He knew how deeply Sey felt things, but he was starting to share them with Declan, instead of keeping them hidden.

"C’mere, baby." He lay on his back and patted his chest, indicating where Sey should lay his head.

When Sey was comfortably settled against him, Declan pulled the covers around them. "When I graduate, Sey..." he mused, thinking out loud.

"We’ll have more time together. I’ll be home more. Creating." Declan emphasized the last word in a slightly mocking tone, clearly intending to deflate his own importance.

Sey looked thoughtful. "You’re going to give up teaching?"

"Well..." Declan sounded undecided.

""You could do both."

"And never see you or the kids? Give me a break, love!" Declan kissed him, his arm massaging Sey’s shoulder gently.

"Still and all...it is nice to have choices," Sey offered.

"Something we never thought we’d have again, eh, baby?"

"Mmm...so where are we going after Christmas?"

"I’ve got a better question, Sey. What do you want for Christmas, acushla?"

"I don’t know. What do you want for our anniversary this year, love?"

"You." Declan kissed him, and Sey opened his mouth, swirling his tongue inside for a few all-too-brief moments. "Same as last year, huh?" Sey giggled.

Declan’s fingers touched Sey’s bare earlobe, the one he had caressed so ardently earlier. "Y’know, I was thinking...you need something...pretty. For right here."

Sey’s eyes grew wide. "Oho, you marking your territory again?"

Declan’s lips twitched. He deserved that. "Humor me, Sey. I just want you to have something beautiful to remember."

Sey looked up at Declan, his face totally transformed by love. "Everything you give me is beautiful, Declan."

"Including me?"

"Especially you."

"What are we getting for Christmas, Mom?" Faith asked her mother.

Now almost five months pregnant, Nikita winked at her oldest daughter and said, "Puppies."

"Puppies? How many, Mom?"

Nikita thought about that. The neighbor’s former champion was named Lady Gunzilla’s Sweet Silken Choice, and she had the paperwork to prove it. But the kids had affectionately dubbed her Silk. Thank God for small favors. Somehow Nikita couldn’t see herself yelling out into the night, after the dog got loose, Here, Gun!

"Probably enough for each of you to have one."

Faith’s delighted shriek nearly broke Nikita’s eardrums. "Yay! I get to pick first! I’m oldest!"

Nikita smiled pleasantly. She knew how much her daughter hated to be second-best to anyone or anything. But the truth was... "I hate to mention this, Fee, but Sasha’s the oldest now."

"He is?" Faith scowled. "Well, rats, Mom. Big, hairy ones."

Nikita burst out laughing. Her daughter was going through a phase of making up her own curses and swear words. They were certainly a lot more interesting than what the average person usually came up with. "Ooh," she said, holding a hand to her abdomen.

Suddenly, her eyes aglow, Nikita beckoned Faith closer. "Honey, put your hand right here." Faith obliged, her changeable grey-green eyes turning a deep forest green. "Wow! What’s that, Mom?"

"That’s the baby kicking, Fee," Nikita explained, feeling like everything was as right as it could be in her world.

"Is it a boy or a girl?"

"I don’t know, Fee. What do you think?"

Faith looked entirely too wise for her age at that moment. "I think we should all take turns feeling your tummy and then we should guess whether the baby is a boy or a girl. Then when the baby gets born, we could see who’s right." Faith grinned.

Michael walked into the kitchen and wrapped his arms lovingly around Nikita’s abdomen. "Daddy doesn’t want everyone feeling Mommy’s tummy," he said to Faith, wiggling his eyebrows at his daughter, so she would know he was kidding. Sometimes Nikita thought that Michael and Faith had worked out a code between them. Sign language for the strong, silent types.

"Daddy, you’re so funny!" Faith giggled.

"Moi?" Michael asked in mock horror.

Faith continued to laugh merrily, her green eyes dancing playfully. "Daddddy, how could we tell if the baby’s a girl or a boy if we don’t touch Mommy’s tummy?"

"Hmm...let’s see...how about if we..." Michael released Nikita and pounced upon his daughter. "...tickle your tummy?" Faith squealed as her father made good his threat.

"Faith! You’re getting to be such a big girl!" Michael said as he lifted his daughter into the air. "Maybe when you turn six, I won’t even be able to pick you up!"

It was true that Faith, true to form, was growing taller, like her parents. As Nikita was fond of saying, Faith got the good genes. But then again, she thought all of their children took after Michael in that they were quite beautiful.

"What’s the baby’s name?"

"Why don’t we wait till we find out if it’s a boy or a girl first? Okay?" Michael said. Faith nodded solemnly. Though she had not liked sharing the spotlight in the Samuelle household, to begin with, she was rapidly growing into the role of big sister. In truth, she was quite good at it. Besides, as Nikita often said, Faith is too bossy not to be the big sister.

Michael put Faith down, and she scampered off to look for the others. Nikita smiled warmly at Michael before she kissed him. "So what brings the man of the house home so early?"

"I had a meeting."

"With?"

Michael raised an eyebrow. He was having fun teasing Nikita. He was more skilled than she was at being mysterious, and he could keep this going for a long, long time. But he was too excited to keep his news a secret for more than a few seconds more.

"The book is a go, doucette. It’ll be in the stores within the week, just in time for all those people looking for one more Christmas present." Michael looked just like Chris when he saw Emmy.

"Michael! Are we going to get a copy?" Nikita was so overcome, she slid down into a chair, running a hand protectively over her abdomen.

Michael looked alarmed. "Are you all right, Kita?"

"I’m fine," she said, continuing to rub absently at her protruding middle. "Just a minor twinge, that’s all."

Michael quickly found another chair and sat opposite his wife, grabbing her hands and holding them to his lips. "None of this would have happened without you, doucette. You know that."

"Michael, you’re the one who’s worked long and hard for this. I’m just happy...that you’re happy, love."

He lay his head on her abdomen and waited. There. There it was. He could feel the baby. His and Kita’s fourth child. She stroked his hair gently. "Is Luc talking to you, Michael? Can you feel him?"

He lifted his eyes to Nikita’s, and her hands framed his cheeks. "Yes, doucette." She leaned down, as difficult as that was, and kissed him. Their mouths met awkwardly, because of the angle, but Michael soon rectified that by changing his position.

"You’re so certain it’s a boy, Kita. You’re already calling him Luc."

She gave him a brilliant smile, her eyes burning with incredible intensity. Their color, Michael would swear, had only deepened with Nikita’s pregnancy. Her eyes were no longer light blue, but a deeper, richer shade of blue. Lent, no doubt, by the presence of their unborn son.

"Don’t laugh, Michael, but...I had a dream about him. And that’s what he told me he wants to be called."

"Luc?" Michael searched her eyes for long seconds before claiming her mouth, this time in a much less ungainly fashion.

"Well, we decided that if it were a boy, we would call it Luc something, Michael. I just thought...I dunno...I really want to call him Luc," she explained, helplessly shrugging.

He nodded, the expression in his eyes oddly touching, as if he expected to hear that his pregnant wife communed with their unborn baby on a regular basis. "I like it, too, doucette." Pause. "But what if it’s a girl?"

"If it’s a girl, Amalie. But it won’t be." She shook her head at Michael, as if emphasizing her statement.

Before he could say another word, they both heard a knock at the front door. Michael frowned. "Expecting someone?"

Nikita looked blank. "Nope." With a powerful yet modest rocking motion, Nikita managed to stand on her feet again.

As she headed for the door, she heard the knock again.

***

Davenport knocked on the front door of the Samuelle house and waited. Expectantly. That was a good word, all things considered. He glanced at Derry, who needed considerable assistance from him to get up the porch steps.

Nikita opened the door and squealed happily. "Dav! Derry!"

Davenport grinned at Nikita, and Nikita suddenly became aware that he was holding hands with Derry. Their hands were clasped together, and Davenport was swinging their joined hands back and forth enthusiastically.

"What?" Nikita gave him a puzzled look.

"Look!" Davenport spread his left hand, and his brand-new wedding ring glinted in the last of the afternoon’s sunlight.

"Oh, my God! You did elope!" Nikita was so excited, she could hardly bear it. "We wondered where you went, but we would have understood if you didn’t come back. After all, you both have your own lives to lead now and--"

"Nikita," said Derry, "shut up." She smiled, taking the sting out of the words, and suddenly Nikita realized that she had never seen Derry this relaxed. Ever.

"So," Davenport ventured to poke his head inside, to see if anyone else was around, "can me and Mrs. Davenport come in?"

"Of course," Nikita stepped back hesitantly to let the couple pass, but when Derry approached Nikita, all at once she threw her arms around her. Hugging her tightly, Derry whispered, "I’m so damn happy."

Nikita’s eyes watered. A side effect of her continued hormonal overload. "I could tell," she whispered back.

Michael came up behind his wife and asked, "What’s all the whispering about?" When he saw Davenport and Derry, Michael couldn’t help but shout, "You’re back! Did you get married?"

Derry brandished her ring finger proudly. "Yep."

"Wait till your brother finds out," Nikita said warmly.

"Where is Declan?" Derry asked.

"Around here someplace," Nikita replied.

Suddenly a terrible furor broke out. Zero was barking furiously, though not at the new husband and wife, while Silk was curiously absent. Where was the golden retriever?

As if in answer, Faith pounded into the hallway, yelling at the full power of her young lungs. Which was not inconsiderable. "Mommy! Daddy! Come quick! The mom dog’s having her babies!"

Davenport gave Nikita a bemused look. "We have a mom dog?"

"Yes, we do. It seems you two arrived just in time."

"In time for what?"

"In time for puppies, puppies everywhere."

"I suppose I should mention that we actually bought a house, too," Davenport said almost shyly.

"Really?" Nikita pondered. "You want a dog?"

"Funny you should mention that, Nikita. There was this guy a few blocks down the road from here, he used to breed dogs. But he had a bad experience with someone, and he was so anxious to move, we got the house dirt cheap."

Nikita glanced at Michael, and they burst into gales of laughter. Davenport’s midnight black eyes flickered back and forth, shifting from Michael to Nikita and back again.

"Something I said?"

"Oh, Dav," Nikita managed to get out before dissolving into yet another fit of the giggles.

Sure that he was addressing the more serious of the two, Davenport said to Michael, "I couldn’t believe my luck. We really got a good deal on the house. The man who sold it to us, though, was a bit...strange."

Michael struggled to stifle the laughter inside him, but suddenly, he just had to let it escape. "W-was he wearing plaid?"

"You know what they say, diamonds are forever."

Birkoff scowled at the jewelry clerk. "Sounds too much like a James Bond movie to me."

The clerk lifted an eyebrow haughtily. "You have something against James Bond? Or you just don’t like spy thrillers?"

Birkoff managed to look as bland as a slice of white bread. "Too unrealistic. And way too predictable."

The clerk’s mouth dropped open. "What, I s’pose you’ve made a study of high-tech espionage, amongst other things?" he snorted derisively.

Declan smiled innocently at the clerk. "You’ll have to forgive him. He’s got a vivid imagination."

The male clerk gave Declan the once-over, and he was apparently not displeased with what he saw, for he added, "I should say, if he’s with you."

Birkoff’s dark eyes narrowed appraisingly, but before he could utter a word, Declan pulled him away from the clerk’s counter. "Sey, if diamonds aren’t your thing, maybe we’ll find you something else."

He muttered under his breath, but Declan soon forced Sey to repeat what he said. "I said...diamonds are hardly...inconspicuous. Since you’re so worried about attracting attention. All of a sudden."

Declan’s silver-grey eyes flickered over his lover’s face. "Sey," he said quietly, "if you don’t want anyone to know you’re with me, you’d better go straight home, boyo. Cause I am about to make the biggest scene you’ve ever seen."

Far from alarmed that Declan might make good his threat, Sey continued to gaze intently into Declan’s eyes. "I don’t want something gaudy, Dec. That’s not who I am. And as for not wanting anyone to know I’m with you?" Sey framed Declan’s face with his hands and reached up to kiss him.

He nudged Declan’s lips apart with his tongue, ever so gently, and they kissed. Right there in the mall. In front of Bellefleur’s Jewelry Store. Like any other married couple. No one even slowed down to take a look. The French found the unusual commonplace.

Declan sighed, his eyes softening in response to Sey’s open declaration of love. "Just when I think I know you, you turn into someone else, acushla."

Sey’s mouth curved into a faint smile that nonetheless bespoke great tenderness. "That’s my way of keeping things interesting, love." He caressed Declan’s cheek with his fingertips.

"Oh, and Dec? I want emeralds. Diamonds are so...I don’t know...obvious," Sey announced in tones so similar to the obsequious clerk, Declan laughed.

"Emeralds are freaking expensive, baby."

"And I’m worth it." Sey’s off the cuff quip merely pointed out how much the two of them had grown, together, as a couple. His fingertip flicked Declan’s earlobe. "It’ll look nice next to your red hair."

"I’ll look like a damned Christmas tree," Declan grumbled, secretly loving the openly appealing glances Sey was giving him.

"I’ll deck your branches with holly and tinsel...oh, and mistletoe."

"Okay, okay, if you want emeralds, we’ll get emeralds." Declan gave in gracefully, knowing that Sey’s kisses would more than make up for the expense. "You do realize, you’re going to have to get your ear pierced, sweetie."

Sey gulped, as if the thought had just penetrated. "Just my ear, though."

Declan laughed, grabbing hold of Sey and hugging him tightly. "Jeez, love, even I wouldn’t go there!"

Declan released his lover and smiled. "You know, at the rate we’re spending money, I’d better be bloody famous someday."

"No!" Sey’s vehement response to such a simple statement puzzled Declan until he clarified it a moment later. "The best artists are only appreciated after they’re dead, Dec," Sey said, playing with the zipper on Declan’s black leather jacket.

Declan brushed back a strand of Sey’s thick dark hair that had come loose from its thong. "I’m not planning on dying for a long, long time. They’ll just have to appreciate the hell out of me while I’m here, Sey."

Sey reached up and kissed Declan, his fingers splayed across his cheek. "Just for that, I’ll let you pick out the earrings, Dec. But no diamonds."

"No diamonds, love," Declan agreed. He wouldn’t want anything to take away from Sey’s natural beauty in his eyes. He wasn’t even sure if anything ever could.

***

In the end, Silk had six puppies. All beautiful. All healthy. And friskier than the kids who would claim them when they were old enough.

"Maybe we could keep Zero and Silk here, but send the puppies to the chateau when they get a little older," Michael suggested.

Davenport grinned. "Maybe I should re-open the kennel I ‘inherited’ with the house, Michael."

"Do you see yourself as a dog breeder, Dav?" Nikita asked.

"I don’t know, Nikita. I never got a chance to be anything other than what I am. Or was. I guess I’m a retired field op now. Not much of a market for us."

"What does Derry think?"

Derry entered the living room and clasped her new husband’s hand. "Derry thinks that Jake would be good at anything he decides to do." She gazed at him lovingly, as if there were no one else present. "And Derry would willingly raise dogs, if that’s what he wants."

Davenport’s face softened, his eyes warm and affectionate despite their darkness. "Might be a waste of your talents, darlin’."

"You haven’t even begun to see what talents I’ve got, Jake," she said huskily but somehow emphatically.

Michael turned to Nikita, laughter in his bright green eyes. "Perhaps we should leave the newlyweds alone."

"Derry! You’re four months pregnant with twins. You can’t--" All at once, Nikita flushed, her beautiful face bright red. "I mean, of course, you can, but--"

Michael wrapped his arms around his wife, chuckling almost to himself. "Would you like to reconsider that last part, doucette?"

"Mi-chael..." Nikita closed her eyes and hid her face against his shoulder. "Please...feel free to pull my foot out of my mouth...anytime."

An irrepressible smile on his face, Michael stroked his wife’s pale blonde hair as he addressed Davenport. "We love being pregnant, her and me."

"I can see that," Davenport agreed, a laugh struggling to make its way to the surface. "But with all these puppies running around the place in the new year, it’s gonna look like 101 Dalmatians..."

"The chateau, then," Michael said firmly.

"That way, they can visit their puppies throughout the year, and when we spend the summer at the chateau, they’ll have all summer with them," Nikita agreed.

"I don’t know how pleased the kids’ll be with that solution," Davenport said dubiously.

Nikita shrugged. "You don’t know our kids."

Davenport looked at Derry, and she lay her head on his shoulder. He hooked an arm around her, holding her as close as he could, given her considerable girth now.

"No, but I can’t wait to meet mine."

Madeline didn’t get angry. She merely burst into tears. Neil wrapped his arms around her and prayed this bout would be a short one. "Honey, ssh...you’ll scare everyone."

Madeline simply cried harder. "I can’t...help it...Neil."

Neil glanced helplessly at Davenport and Derry. "They didn’t elope to spite you, Maddy. They’re just in love. You know how that is."

Davenport nodded silently, and Derry smiled encouragingly at Madeline. Madeline stopped crying and hiccuped loudly. Then her eyes filled with tears again. "Not...anymore..." she lamented.

Neil sighed. "Honey, don’t say that. People will think you mean it."

"I do," she cried.

Neil kissed her temple and held onto her for dear life. "I love you, Maddy," Neil whispered. "You know I do."

She closed her eyes. "I love you, too, Neil...and I don’t know how you can stand being around me when I’m like this."

Neil smiled. "Last time I checked, the vows did say, for better or for worse. Not for better or for mediocre."

She nodded, a tiny chuckle escaping her control. Neil relaxed again. He was the only one who could reach Madeline when she was like this. They called it being hormonally-challenged.

Madeline smiled at the younger woman. "You’re so lucky you’re not having mood swings like I am, Derry."

Derry colored. She was at a loss for words momentarily. She waited for Jake to mention how irritable and how easily agitated she’d been since she became pregnant. But he didn’t say a word.

Perhaps he thought her lability was part of her natural personality. She hoped not. She needed him to think the very best of her.

As if he knew what she was thinking, Davenport kissed her cheek and whispered, "I love you just the way you are, darlin’. So don’t you go getting any strange ideas that I don’t."

Madeline was gratified to see just how happy the couple was. Another couple who had fought the odds. And won.

"Neil?"

"Yes, honey?"

Madeline caressed her husband’s chin with one delicately enameled fingertip. "We have a wedding to finish planning."

"But honey, Dav and Derry are already--"

Not for them, silly. For us. You said we could renew our vows. And now that time is not a factor, I was thinking, maybe we should hold off until warmer weather. We could hold the reception in the bower, here at Michael and Nikita’s. We could celebrate the renewal...of everyone’s vows. Ours, Dav and Derry’s, even Michael and Nikita’s."

"Give them a wedding to replace the one that was ruined?"

She nodded eagerly, relieved to see Neil accepting the idea so readily. "I don’t think Michael ever stopped blaming himself for not giving Nikita the wedding of her dreams. This would go a long way towards healing that wound."

Neil agreed. "You’re a pretty special lady, you know that?"

"We all need our dreams, Neil. Even me."

The knock on the door came as a surprise. Declan glanced at Birkoff, a question in his storm-grey eyes. "Are you expecting anyone, Sey?"

Sey shook his head. He was half-asleep, and he was beginning to think, that after all those early tours in Section One, maybe he just wasn’t a morning person anymore.

Declan opened the door slowly, relieved to see that it was James. No last-minute emergencies were going to keep the two of them from celebrating their anniversary in a much warmer place this year. He waved James inside. "It’s only James."

"Gee, thanks," said the younger man somewhat dryly.

"Sorry," Declan quickly added. "We’re just packing for our trip to the Caribbean. We’re going to get warm if it kills us," he said with a smile.

Birkoff roused himself half-heartedly from the recliner. "Is everything okay? Nothing happened this morning at school, did it?" he asked almost anxiously.

Declan tried to assuage his lover’s understandable state of nerves about the children’s behavior. Emmy was never a problem, and Sasha, true to his word, was doing his best not to act out. But since they told the kids that they were taking a trip to the islands, things had gotten mildly interesting.

Emmy, who should have been delighted at the prospect of spending a week with both parents in a place that had considerably more to recommend it than hot days and sultry nights, was pitching a fit about leaving Chris.

Meanwhile, Sasha, who had finally admitted, to himself as well as others, just how much he cared for Skye, was dragging his feet at the thought of accompanying his parents as well.

Sey hated to insist that the kids go with them, but he didn’t want to be that far from home for so long without them. He knew they would be well-cared for, if they stayed behind. But he didn’t get as much time as he’d like with the two of them, and the truth was, they were growing up so quickly. They would never have this time back again. Ever.

"Everything’s fine, Sey. Sasha’s been good. Emmy seems to have settled down a bit, too," James reassured Birkoff.

"Oh, oh, good." Birkoff started to turn back to his recliner, but Declan pulled on his arm. "You can’t go back to sleep, love. We have to finish packing."

Birkoff sighed. Grabbing a handful of clothing, he began to fit it into one of the suitcases lying open on the table. Declan studied James, whose expression could only be described as enigmatic. "So? What happened?"

James broke into a broad smile, looking simultaneously excited and shy. "I met someone," he said breathlessly.

"When?" Declan asked.

"Where?" Sey called out at the same time.

"I couldn’t sleep last night...so I...took a walk. To the park." Before he could go on, Declan interjected, "Christ! You went cruising? Where are your brains? In your ass?"

Birkoff looked disappointed. "Don’t you know how dangerous that is?"

James looked horrified, then outraged that they would think he was capable of abandoning all reason, just for a one-night stand. "I didn’t--You think I let myself be picked up? It wasn’t like that!"

Declan folded his arms in front of his chest. "Why don’t you tell us how it was then?"

James flushed angrily. "I didn’t sleep with him. I’m not stupid."

Declan nodded approvingly. "Good. Continue."

"How old is he?" Birkoff asked. "What are you, my mother?" James exclaimed incredulously.

"No, just your friend," Birkoff said solemnly. "Somebody who cares what happens to you." Declan agreed. "So tell us something about Mr. Wonderful."

James sat down, albeit reluctantly. He had a feeling if he said one wrong word, he was going to need to be ready to bolt out the door. Fast. "He’s not too much older than me. He’s 25."

"What’s his name?" To Declan’s astonishment, James blushed. "What? His name is something outrageous?"

James looked sheepish. "It’s just that...he told me his name was Smoke." In the light of day, things that seemed romantic suddenly became...silly.

A surprised laugh escaped Declan. "As in cigarette or fog?" he asked.

"Well, it’s a nickname, obviously. He grew up on the streets--"

Declan rolled his eyes. "He’s a hustler? Shit, you picked Prince Charming, all right."

Birkoff glared at his lover. "Declan, you’re being very judgmental today. Maybe you should finish packing. In the other room."

James looked gratefully at Birkoff. Declan stalked into the other room in a huff. "Go on," Sey encouraged.

James said with a sigh, "He’s a sweet guy. French-Canadian. Came here a couple of years ago, looking for his roots, and decided to stay. He did grow up on the streets of Montreal, Sey, but he never hustled. Well, okay, he hustled card games, like three card monte, but he never did guys for money."

"He says," Sey pointed out. "Now you sound like Declan," James protested.

"We’re just looking out for you, James. That’s all. What does he do?"

"He’s a dancer."

"Serious? Ballet?" Birkoff’s face brightened expectantly.

"Exotic," James said, suddenly aware of how bad it must sound.

"Excuse me?"

A voice, faintly French-accented, called out from the doorway. "I got tired of waiting for you, Jamie." Somehow James’ name came out sounding more like Shzaymee. Which didn’t do much for Sey, but seemed to thrill the hell out of James.

All at once, the owner of the admittedly sensual voice revealed himself, standing in the doorway. With a casual shrug, the improbably named Smoke acknowledged Birkoff. "Allo."

Smoke was a definite improvement on James’ last choice for a lover. He was, as James said, about 25 years old. His hair was midnight black, falling to his shoulders as straight as an arrow. His eyes were blue-grey, his skin fair. He was undeniably attractive in a lean, slim-hipped way. Not as tall as Declan. But not much taller than Birkoff or James.

His clothing, on the other hand, looked stylish enough to be trendy, but curiously colorful. He wore tight leathers, head to toe, a dark burgundy, to be exact. His boots were rust-colored suede, however, long, straight tassels hanging down from the tops of them. He could be a dancer. He certainly had the physique for it. But Birkoff was hardly an expert.

"Umm...Smoke? Do you have another name?" Birkoff just knew he would feel more reassured if he was really Jacques or even Fred.

The young man straightened with a sharp movement. "Oui," he said briskly. He struck a pose, arms and legs akimbo, his hips jutting out at an acute angle from his legs. "My stage name is Tango."

Birkoff resisted the urge to laugh out loud, reminding himself that this was James’ first foray into the dating world, here in France, and that this was someone James was extremely enamored of.

"Tango? Uh huh...you do Latin dancing then?"

Smoke nodded. "’at’s right."

"Where?" Birkoff asked, thinking there was something awfully familiar about the younger man’s body, if not his face.

Declan abruptly re-entered the sitting room and exclaimed, "Bloody hell! You’re that guy!"

Birkoff turned to his lover, a puzzled line etched across his forehead, between his brows. "What guy?"

"Oh, that’s right. You were in the bathroom," Declan said.

"Where?"

"The night we went to that club. You know...the one with...Velma?" Declan tried to remind Sey without mentioning any explicit details.

"He’s definitely not Velma, Dec," Birkoff declared throatily, feeling an insane desire to laugh like a madman. "Ohhhh...." Birkoff said, suddenly making the connection.

"No, I’m not. But I’ve worked wit’ ‘im," Smoke added helpfully.

"So let me get this straight, you should pardon the word," Declan said, "you’re a cross-dresser?"

Smoke looked mildly irritated, and Declan surmised that he had to do this a lot. Explain. Well, anyone who named themselves Smoke must be used to it by now.

"No, I’m justement gay," Smoke said with a scowl. "I dance in the other club. The one where the ladies ‘ang out. But they were short tha’ night. So I...que veut dire? Did them a favor. I brought my act to th’ other side."

Smoke twitched his hips restlessly and the tassels on his boots flipped back and forth. This was someone who was going to change James’ life. He might be better or he might be worse for knowing him. But it certainly wasn’t going to be dull.

"Which is how I saw you..." Smoke nodded in response to Declan’s statement.

Smoke leaned against James, and Declan could see immediately what an attraction the dancer held for James. "Jamie, let’s go. You promised you’d go out wit’ me."

Both Declan and Birkoff stared openly, first at Smoke, then at James. James was hopelessly smitten, true, but Declan saw a glimmer of real interest on Smoke’s part, too. It would be ironic if the dancer were somehow genuinely attracted to James. But it would be nice.

James stared into Declan’s intrigued grey eyes. "You know how you invited me to come along on your trip?"

Declan nodded slowly, intuitively guessing what was coming. "You want to bring your friend?"

He resisted the desire to say, but you just met this guy last night, and we don’t know anything about him, not really. He could see how James was hanging on his every breath. Well...if they didn’t take him, James would probably stay home and get into trouble on his own. If they did...at least, Declan and Birkoff would be there to pick up the inevitable pieces.

"Okay," Declan said, giving his consent.

This was going to be an interesting trip. Reluctant kids and overeager grown-ups. Sometimes it was hard to tell the two apart.