"It's bad enough you took it into your head to crash the bloody concert, but you left your sister on her own--"

"She was with Chris, Da! I didn't leave her alone! She was with five other people!" Sasha protested.

"I don't want to hear excuses! You're supposed to *protect* Emmy, dammit!"

"Okay, Da! You don't want to hear excuses? Well, that's all I've got! I didn't go with the others to the tattoo parlor because I wanted to get stinking, falling down drunk! Okay?"

"Sasha!"

Sasha brushed his hair out of his eyes, the long rich strands mixing uneasily with his tears. "I left her, I got drunk, in spite of Jazz, who tried to stop me, and I came *this* close to losing my virginity, too! Only Adam pulled me away before I could fuck her! Is that what you wanted to hear, Da? The whole truth and nothing but the fucking truth?"

Sasha's ill-timed swearing pushed his already-frustrated father over the edge. Declan drew back his hand as if to punch Sasha. "You stupid git! You could've gotten yourself and Emmy *killed*! I ought to pound some sense into that hard head of yours--"

"Go ahead! Hit me! It's what I deserve! Hit me! Please! It'll make you feel better!" Sasha fell to his knees, his head bowed in supplication. "It'll make *me* feel better," he muttered under his breath.

Declan actually started to make good his threat, but Sey leaped between him and his son. "I won't let you hit him, Dec!"

As if Sey's words suddenly penetrated whatever fog Declan found himself in, Declan channelled the force of his punch away from Sasha and into the nearby wall. Wincing as his fist contacted the wall, Declan hissed, "Bloody hell!"

Sey grabbed Declan by the shoulders and shook him. "What's wrong with you? You almost hit--"

"I...almost...hit...our son." Declan looked as stunned as Sey felt. All at once his bleak gaze met his lover's and Sey could feel guilt and despair pouring off him in overwhelming waves.

"Declan?"

Declan looked down and gasped at the sight of his hand. His knuckles bruised and bleeding, he flexed his hand experimentally, only to cry out in pain. "I think I broke it."

Sey tried to move closer so he could examine his hand, but Declan backed up. "I can't believe I...I can't stay here, I c-can't."

"Declan, no!"

"Da!"

But Declan threw his black leather jacket over his shoulders and ran out into the night. Sey glanced anxiously at Sasha, to see how he was taking this, but his thoughts were, as always, with Declan. What was he thinking? Where was he going? Would he be all right?

"You've got to follow him, Dad," Sasha said.

"I can't, Sash. I can't leave you guys. Not after--"

"Look, Dad, I understand why you don't think you can trust me, but--"

Sey rubbed his forehead with his fingers in a characteristic gesture that meant a migraine might not be far away. "I'm sorry, Sasha, but you're right. Right now I can't trust you."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'll decide that if Declan comes back. I mean, *when* Declan comes back," Sey quickly corrected himself.

"Oh, Daddy, you don't think he's going to leave us, do you?" Emmy piped up, her lashes wet with fresh tears.

"God, I hope not," Sey blurted out before he could prevent it.

Sasha looked stricken. He turned and ran into his bedroom, slamming the lock closed with shaking hands. He slid down the length of the door, his fingernails barely scratching its surface, stopping only when his butt touched the floor. He closed his eyes and rested his cheek on the cool wood. "All my fault, all my fault," he murmured over and over.

Sey rattled the locked door impatiently. "Sasha, open the door now!"

But there was no answer.

Sey pressed his ear to the door and listened. That's when he heard Sasha. Sobbing and knocking his head against the door. "Sasha, let me in."

"Go away."

Sey knelt on the floor in front of the door. "I can't do that, kiddo. I love you."

"No, you don't. You can't. I screwed up. Bigtime this time." Sasha cried wretchedly and folded his arms around himself. "I came between you and Da. Shouldn't have done that."

"Sasha...please. Come out. You're scaring Emmy." And me, Sey finished silently.

Sey heard one loud hiccup and then nothing. "Sasha?"

The lock clicked open, but the door remained shut. Sey gently pushed on the door and it gave way, revealing part of the bedroom. As he peered into the room, searching anxiously for Sasha, he called out one more time. "Sasha..."

"Dad-dy!" Sasha suddenly appeared from behind the door and threw himself into his father's surprised embrace. "I'm sorry. I swear I am. Please don't send me away. You can ground me for the rest of my life. I don't care. Just let me stay here with you and Da."

Before he knew it, Sey had his arms full of not one, but two hysterical teenagers as Emmy joined her brother. "Ground me, too, Daddy. I won't go out ever again. Please let Sasha stay."

Sey groaned under the emotional overload he was being handed. Where was Dec when he needed him most? Oh, God, Dec, please be okay...

"Listen, Sasha...you, too, Em...I have no intention of sending either one of you anywhere. Got that?"

Sasha reluctantly released his father from his deathgrip and looked at the floor. "It's just that--what I did was so bad. How can you ever forgive me, Daddy? Are you sure you and Da don't want to send me back to where you found me?"

Sasha sounded so utterly hopeless that Sey could have cried. "You just said it yourself, kiddo. What you did was bad. Not *you*. I *hate* what you did, but I still *love* you. I'll always love you, Sasha. You're a part of me. That never goes away."

"As for being grounded...both of you can expect not to go out for a very, very long time. But even if you were grounded forever, that wouldn't mean I didn't love you. Okay?"

Sasha wound his arms around Sey's neck and kissed him on the cheek. "I love you, Daddy."

Emmy snuggled against Sey's other side. "Me, too, Daddy."

Sey basked in the glow of all that love for exactly two seconds before he said, "You never did tell me what you did, Em."

Emmy backed up, looking for all the world like Declan when he was caught doing something he shouldn't have. "Umm...I went to the concert."

"Uh huh, and after?" Sey asked patiently, knowing he was never going to be prepared for her answer, no matter how long he waited.

"Umm...I went with the others to the tattoo parlor."

Sasha heaved an exasperated sigh. "Jesus, Em." He turned to his father and said, "She got a tattoo."

Sey's dark eyes went impossibly round. "You...got a tattoo? Where? Why?"

"It's just a teensy weensy little rose, Daddy. You can't even see it unless you're looking for it."

"How teensy?"

Emmy pulled her sock down and exposed her ankle. There was a tiny bandage there. "See? Little."

"I see the bandage. Not the tattoo."

"Well, you're supposed to cover it and treat it with antibiotic cream and stuff till it heals up."

Sey continued to look at her intently. Eventually Emmy got the message and carefully removed the bandage. When he saw the tattoo itself, he let out the breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "That's...not *too* bad."

As tattoos went, it was tasteful. A tiny red rose decorated the outside of her foot while a vivid green stem curled around the rest of her ankle.

"Your Da's not going to like this one bit, though."

"Speaking of which...shouldn't someone go out and look for him, Daddy? He was so upset when he left and his hand, what about his hand? it might be broken...."

"He'll be okay, Sasha." He has to be, Sey thought, praying for his partner's safety. "You've got enough to worry about as it is."

There had to be some way to find Declan and keep him safe. There had to be.

This was *Declan* they were talking about.

"Adam should have been back by now," Michael said in a seemingly calm voice. Only Nikita knew how deep Michael's feelings really ran. As much as he had opened up, Michael was still loath to let anyone else see how vulnerable he could be. Especially during a crisis, when emotions ran high, and he felt that he, of all people, should certainly be in control of them.

"Maybe he needed a little time to think," she offered.

He whipped his head around, his eyes suddenly a vivid shade of green. "You think I was too hard on Chris and Faith?"

Nikita picked her words carefully. "I think...if I was Adam...I would know what to expect...and I might not be in such a hurry to come home."

"He wouldn't run away." It was a statement, but it sounded almost as if he was seeking Nikita's reassurance that he hadn't driven his oldest son away.

Nikita didn't need to think about her response to that. "No. He has ties here. Us..."

"Jazz." Michael's eyes flickered over his wife's face briefly and not for the first time, he wondered if she truly understood how much he depended on her.

"He would never leave Jazz. He's in love with him," Nikita reminded Michael.

Michael thought, She's trying to tell me something, but my mind is too numb to hear it. "Maybe I should call James. To find out if Jazz ever made it home."

Nikita placed her hand over Michael's and squeezed it gently. "Maybe you should wait."

"You think the two of them are together? Somewhere?"

"If you knew we were about to be separated for several months, what would you do?"

"Store up all the memories I could of--ohh, doucette..." Michael half-smiled and shook his head. ""I pushed them into each other's arms," he mused out loud.

"Well, I wouldn't take *all* the credit, if I were you," she said softly.

"But what if--"

"No," Nikita said, putting her finger to Michael's lips. "No what if's tonight. Let's try and get some rest. Morning will be here before we know it."

"But Adam--"

"--will get here when he gets here. Trust me, he's going to come back."

*****

The kennels were dark, but Jazz knew the way, blindfolded. He pulled Adam into the small workroom that doubled as a place to store supplies and a place for the local vet to treat the animals.

"Won't we wake up the dogs?" Adam whispered.

"Nah, there's only a couple here now and they're way down at the other end."

Jazz flicked a switch and a dim light came on, transforming the workroom into a shadowy alcove. "There, that's better."

"What if someone sees the light?"

"From here? No way. But we can always draw the blinds if you're shy."

"Me? Shy?" Adam smiled. It was a slow, sensual smile that made Jazz' toes curl.

"Umm...."

"Having second thoughts?"

"And third and fourth," Jazz said dreamily. "But they're all about you, and they're all about the same thing."

Adam wrapped his arms around Jazz' waist and pulled the younger teenager flush against him. "Oh, yeah? And what would that be?"

Jazz' green eyes glimmered as the low light caught them. "You making love to me."

"Mmm..." Adam kissed him, his hands sliding down to cup his butt. "I wanted to wait for a really special moment, but--"

"We're both facing being grounded forever and you know it, Adam. We won't be able to see each other outside of school...and school means--"

"--no touching, no kissing, no...ohhh, Nicky, we're finishing each other's sentences now." Adam chuckled, but the truth was, he was more than amused. The thought that he and Jazz were acting like an old married couple simply validated his feelings. He knew this was right. He could feel it in every particle of his being.

Jazz reached up and licked Adam's lips, pleading for them to part and grant him access to his mouth. "I love you."

Adam accepted Jazz' kiss and deepened it almost immediately. He threaded his hands through Jazz' long hair, his fingers restlessly massaging and kneading his scalp. "I love you, too."

Though the room was small, there was a fair-sized examination table in one corner, usually used by the vet. Adam lifted Jazz in his arms and placed him on the table, all without relinquishing his mouth. When he broke away, breathless, Adam asked, "Are you sure?"

Jazz read the question in Adam's eyes and nodded slowly. "Never been more sure."

Adam unsnapped Jazz' jeans and slid his hand down his lover's firm flat abdomen to his groin. The moment Adam touched him, Jazz arched his back and gasped, his mouth unconsciously opening wider. Adam stroked him once, brushing his knuckles across the tip as he reluctantly let go.

"No...more..." Jazz begged.

Slowly and more patiently than he could have dreamed, Adam stripped the clothing from his lover's body, covering him with kisses as each new place was exposed. When Jazz was naked, he shivered. It wasn't as cold inside as it was outdoors, but there was definitely not as much heat as in the main house.

Adam found a clean blanket on the shelf and wrapped it around Jazz' shoulders. Jazz protested the loss of Adam's talented fingers on his body, but Adam said, "Ssh." He quickly disrobed himself, then hopped onto the table beside Jazz.

Jazz smiled and lay back, his skin glowing softly under the weak light. Adam covered him with himself, then draped the blanket over both of them. "You really are the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

"Show me."

Adam dipped his head and kissed him, the aching sweetness of his lover's lips almost too much to bear. "God, I love you."

They kissed and kissed, until their mouths were bright pink and swollen, and still they didn't tire of the taste of one another. Their legs twined restlessly together, their state of arousal unmistakeable. With no further clue what to do but move, they surged towards completion.

Jazz came first, his fingernails digging deeply into Adam's shoulders, his face so rapt that Adam couldn't imagine anything more incredible to behold. Once Jazz' little sounds of satisfaction made their way to his ears, Adam stopped holding back and came, his wet heat spilling between them to merge with his lover's essence.

Still panting, Adam buried his face in Jazz' hair. "Ohh...."

Jazz pressed his lips to Adam's ear and whispered, "Sorry I got all mushy on you before. Guess I'm not much of a drinker."

"Guess you must really love me, huh?" Adam asked huskily, refusing to give up the space he'd claimed beside Jazz' neck.

"Oh, yeah."

A few moments passed in comfortable silence before Adam spoke again. "So...was it...like...good enough...that you'd try it again?"

The fact that Adam was revealing his own insecurity spoke volumes to Jazz. He had never felt more loved or cherished. "Yeah, it was." Jazz touched Adam's temple and Adam drew back to look at his lover, his heart clearly in his eyes.

"I love the feel of you...on top of me...covering me. I feel so...protected."

Adam kissed him, his lips lingering for a long moment. "You sure you didn't feel...ravished?"

"Nah, I think ravishing comes later."

"Oh, yeah? How much time do you think we've got before your folks or mine come looking for us?"

Jazz pondered. "You're right," he said with an impish grin. "Ravish me now."

Adam cleaned them up with an edge of the blanket, then threw the blanket on the floor. Jazz looked up at him with startled eyes. "What did you do that for?"

"You don't think *I'm* enough to keep you warm?"

Jazz smiled flirtatiously and rolled onto his stomach. "That give you any ideas?"

Adam climbed atop him and pulled the hair off the back of his neck. He pressed a kiss to his nape and sighed. "I'm not sure we're ready for...you know."

Jazz spread his legs slightly and Adam's half-erect cock slid between the cheeks of his buttocks. "We could...practice. Just a little." For emphasis, Jazz pushed back against Adam and felt the answering throb of his lover's suddenly-interested cock as it slipped a little deeper into the crack of his ass.

Adam shivered as he grew harder. He laced his fingers with Jazz' and settled into a more relaxed position on his back. "Am I hurting you?"

"God, no."

"I'm not going to fuck you, Nick."

"Mmm, I know...." Jazz arched his back and raised his ass. Adam couldn't help but feel the tip of his cock touching Jazz' virgin opening.

"You're a real prick tease, you know that?"

Jazz laughed, then said with perfect seriousness, "I saved myself for you, Adam."

"Oh, Nicky, you shouldn't tell me those kinds of things. Not when I'm right here...so close...."

Jazz turned Adam's hand over and licked the palm with his wet tongue. "I want you...inside me, Adam."

Adam shuddered as he began to move back and forth, his cock leaking enough moisture to make passage easier. "Just...practicing...Nicky."

Adam pulled on Jazz' hair and Jazz' head came back, exposing his neck. Adam sank his teeth into the side of Jazz' neck, hard enough to mark him, but not break the skin. Jazz' back muscles rippled sinuously and Adam rode out the storm of his second climax, spilling his seed across the satiny expanse of Jazz' lower back.

Jazz twisted around to face Adam and Adam collapsed against him gratefully. "I wish we could fall asleep right here," Jazz whispered.

"Yeah, with my arms around you," Adam agreed, giving Jazz a sloppy kiss.

"But we'd better get up."

"Yeah. Nicky?"

Jazz gave him a questioning look.

"I love you."

Jazz smiled and stretched luxuriously like a contented cat. "You're going to have to keep me now, y'know."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Uh huh."

"Nick?"

"Yeah, Adam?"

"Will you marry me?"

Jazz started to giggle, but he stopped when he saw the somber look on Adam's face. "Shit. You really mean it."

"Is that an answer?"

"No, this is an answer." Jazz pulled Adam's face down for a kiss that promised the joining of their souls someday.

But it was more than enough for now.

Sometimes things don't go as planned. Like Smoke's carefully-rehearsed speech about taking responsibility for one's own actions and facing the consequences.

Oh, it wasn't that Jazz didn't listen. He did.

But he listened with the most beatific smile on his face that Smoke had ever seen. Smoke was almost certain that he couldn't be listening, but Jazz repeated back everything he asked, word for word.

"You do understand that you're being punished..." It was more of a question than a statement. If it hadn't been for the fact that Jazz was standing right in front of him, Smoke would have sworn that Jazz was somewhere else.

"Yes, Pete."

Smoke arched an eyebrow at his adoptive son. Jazz was still calling him 'Pete'. At first, it rankled when he began calling James 'Dad', but the way Jazz explained it, 'Pete' was a nickname the teenager associated with the love and affection both men had given him since he came to live with them.

"You're okay with being grounded for the next two months?"

Jazz nodded.

"It could have been much longer, y'know."

Jazz nodded again.

"Trying to help Sasha *did* count for something."

When Jazz nodded for the third time, Smoke interrupted himself to say, "You sure you're not still a little high?"

Jazz' expression grew somewhat wistful. "Oh, no, I'm sure. I just have...a lot on my mind."

"I bet." Smoke couldn't put his finger on it, but there was definitely something going on with Jazz. It might or might not be related to crashing the concert and all the events that ensued, but it didn't matter. Smoke was suddenly determined to get to the bottom of things. One way or another.

When Jazz didn't move, Smoke said, "Go ahead, go on to bed. It's almost time to get up."

Jazz clearly breathed a sigh of relief, though Smoke could not imagine why. "Thanks, Pete."

That took Smoke aback. He wasn't sure what reaction he honestly expected from Jazz, but that wasn't even close.

*****

Jazz couldn't wait to get out of his clothes and into the shower. Hot water sluiced its way down his body, making his skin glisten. Vaguely erotic thoughts came to mind, but Jazz firmly bade them go away. He didn't have time to do anything but sleep.

And the faster he went to sleep, the quicker he could start dreaming about Adam.

*****

When he exited the bathroom, a cloud of steam followed in his wake. Jazz pulled the towel around him, only to stop suddenly as he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror on the back of the closet door.

"You're beautiful."

He could hear Adam's voice in his head as surely as if he were standing next to him. Jazz dropped the towel to the floor and ignored the goosebumps that immediately arose. He ran his hands over his shoulders, then his chest, then his abdomen.

He felt different. Changed.

He smiled at his reflection, for once able to see himself through Adam's loving eyes. He *was* worthy of someone's forever after love. For a second, he thought, I *am* beautiful.

Then he laughed nervously and whispered, "Well, I *feel* beautiful anyway."

"You are."

Smoke's voice coming from behind Jazz startled him badly. He gasped, then clumsily sought the towel, trying to cover his nakedness. "Pete!"

"Sorry. I thought you heard me knock. Adam asked me to give you this."

Smoke handed a slip of paper to him. Jazz gazed at him with stricken eyes. "You didn't read it, did you?"

Smoke looked hurt. "No. It's not for me."

"I'm sorry. It's just--"

Smoke sighed. "What is it, Jazz? I know you're keeping something from me. I just don't know what it is. You look like--"

Jazz visibly trembled. "Like what?"

Suddenly Smoke's entire demeanor softened. Torn between satisfying his own curiosity and being supportive, Smoke let his heart decide and it showed. "You and Adam made love."

"How did you--"

The older man smiled kindly. "I can see it in your eyes. In your face. Your whole body shines with it."

"Please don't tell me it's wrong, Pete. I couldn't stand it if you said that now."

He could hear tears in Jazz' voice and he knew that his emotions were running so high as to be nearly out of his control. "I'm not the one who can tell you that, Jazz. It's your life. And Adam's."

"Thanks, Pete," Jazz whispered. "But please...don't tell anyone. Not even Dad."

Smoke shook his head slowly, his long black hair darkly gleaming. "You can't ask me to keep something like this from Jamie. It wouldn't be right."

Jazz dropped his disappointed gaze to the floor. "O-kay," he said reluctantly. "I understand."

"But I'll leave it to you and Adam to tell anyone else."

"Thanks," Jazz replied hoarsely.

"I won't ask you what you did tonight, Jazz. But I need to know...are you two playing it safe?"

Jazz blushed. "Pete!"

"I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important, Jazz."

"I know, it's just--It was, uh, my first time." Jazz lowered his voice to a point where Smoke couldn't possibly hear him.

"What?"

Jazz blurted out more loudly, "I was a virgin, okay?"

Jazz was so preoccupied with his own feelings that he never saw Smoke's relieved smile. "Now you can laugh. Hard to believe I actually saved myself for someone, huh?"

"No." Smoke pulled the younger man into his arms and held him. "You think I don't know how special that is? How special *you* are? I'm glad you found someone you love enough to give that gift."

Jazz buried his face in Smoke's chest. "Adam's only been with one girl. He liked to make it sound like it was lots and lots, but he finally admitted that it was just one. And they always used a condom. That's pretty much as safe as we could get, isn't it?"

Smoke cupped Jazz' chin, a concerned look in his light blue-gray eyes. "Are you telling me you didn't use condoms tonight?"

Jazz bit his lip anxiously before answering. "I thought you weren't going to ask me details."

"This isn't a detail, Jazz. It's--"

"Okay," Jazz responded, distinctly uncomfortable. "We didn't use condoms tonight."

"Jazz!" Smoke wanted to shake the teenager until he came back to his senses.

"I trust him."

Smoke wanted to shout, But you're not experienced enough to know who to trust yet, but he held back.

"Besides," Jazz continued, "We, uh, didn't go all the way."

Smoke started to speak, but Jazz broke away from him and said, "I wanted to. But Adam didn't."

"Thank God."

Jazz disregarded his adoptive father's last comment and clung fiercely to Adam's proposal. "He asked me to marry him, Pete."

"No kidding." Smoke looked vaguely stunned and for a moment, Jazz thought that maybe he should get James.

Jazz grinned. "No kidding. Can you believe it? Bet you never thought that kids could dream such big dreams, huh?"

Smoke began to chuckle. "I knew you were in love. But this--"

Jazz' bright green eyes lost some of their glow, and yet his face remained transfigured. "Someday we'll be together...and it'll be forever. Just like you and Dad."

Smoke was speechless. No one had ever aspired to be him before.

After Smoke left, Jazz dove beneath the covers, Adam's note clutched in his hand. He unfolded the paper, his heart beating a little bit faster in anticipation.

Dear Nicky,

I'm not that great with words, but I want you to know that I meant everything I said tonight. I love you and I want to be with you forever and ever. That sounded dumb, didn't it? Oh, well, I guess you never expected to get a love letter. But I promise to send you a note every single day until we're together again. Just to make you feel special. Cause that's how you make me feel. Special.

Love,

Adam

Jazz carefully folded the note and placed it under his pillow. Then he closed his eyes and fell asleep, hoping to dream of Adam.

*****

Declan was in shock. He couldn't believe what he had almost done. He kept trying to remind himself that he hadn't actually touched Sasha. But the memory of it stood out in stark relief in his mind, so clear, so damning...he couldn't let it go.

He walked down the middle of the road, his leather jacket flapping open in the breeze because he hadn't taken time to close it. Bit by bit, he grew colder, still not thinking to zip up his jacket. Still not thinking.

His long red hair flew behind him like a banner worn ragged by battle. He was crying so hard, he couldn't see where he was going, but someplace deep inside him hurt and no matter how he tried, he couldn't get away from the pain. It followed him wherever he went. His broken hand throbbed as it swelled and became clumsy.

He moved without any destination in mind, but his meandering stride eventually took him to the Davenport house. Declan stopped and stared at the young woman sitting on the porch, looking for all the world as if she'd been waiting for him to arrive.

"Declan," she said, her voice far too awake for 3 o'clock in the morning. "You couldn't sleep either?"

He blinked away tears, feeling as though he should be doing something, anything to get away from anyone seeing him in this state. But he was suddenly unable to move.

"No," he said softly.

"You look a bit upset. What's got your knickers in a twist?"

"Derry, I--"

Declan was paralyzed by his own overwhelming feelings. He couldn't reach out, he couldn't put any of this tragedy behind him without talking about it, and...he couldn't bring himself to talk.

"Doesn't matter, love. I'll come to you then," she said quite matter-of-factly. She stood up and opened her arms wide, inviting him inside her embrace.

Declan looked terrified.

Then he launched himself at her, sobbing wildly, his wet face clasped hard to her bosom.

"Ssh, love. It'll be all right. Do you want me to call Sey?"

"God, no," he said with a shudder, trying desperately to regain control of his runaway emotions.

"Is this about what happened tonight?"

Declan nodded, squeezing his eyes shut, but didn't volunteer any other information.

"Are Sasha and Emmy all right?"

"Em-my is," Declan managed to say.

"But Sasha's not? Why? What happened? Besides the fact that he got drunk?"

Declan shivered in her arms. She had never seen him this bad. And the fact that he didn't want her to call Sey bothered her more than anything else. What wasn't he telling her?

"Did you two have a fight?"

"Aye," Declan whispered. "A terrible...f-fight."

"And?" She loved her brother, but it was like pulling teeth to get anything out of him when he was down.

"I al-almost h-hit him."

"What?" Derry was astonished. She had never seen Declan raise a hand to either of his kids. Ever.

Suddenly he pushed free of her, tears still streaming down his cheeks. "Aye! I came *this* close to punching him!"

"Why?"

"He as much as told me to go fuck myself! I dunno what happened after that. I couldn't think straight. I saw that beautiful boy turning into a drunken sot like the old man and--then suddenly I *was* Da! I *was* fucking Sean McLaren all over again! Trying to beat some sense into us kids with his fists! Jesus, Derry!"

Declan's legs grew weak to the point where they wouldn't support him and he sank down onto the porch, holding his head in his hands. Derry quickly sat beside him. "Declan...I don't remember Da. But I know what you've told me, and you're nothing like him."

"But I--"

"You lost your temper. Declan, that doesn't make you abusive. It makes you *human*. Do you think I haven't ever lost my own temper raising twins?"

"But--"

"Declan, the point is, you *didn't* hit him. You *almost* hit him. Doesn't make you a bad guy in my book. I don't think it makes you one in Sey's or Sasha's either."

She grasped his hand and Declan flinched sharply. She frowned and examined his wrist more closely. "Declan, you've got a bloody broken wrist there."

"I know."

"What on earth did you do?"

"Punched the wall."

"Bloody hell."

"Aye."

"Well, I couldn't sleep anyway. Let's go wake up Neil and give him something to do. Bloody Englishman."