"Arghhhhhh!"

"Pete! Wake up!"

Smoke sat up in bed and panted, his mouth half open. While James might claim that Smoke always looked desirable, he was forced to admit that this was *not* one of his better looks.

"What happened?'

"What do you mean, what happened? You're the one who was screaming his head off!"

Smoke's breathing slowly returned to normal as he calmed down. "Nightmare."

"Bad one?"

"As bad as it gets, Jamie."

"Do you remember any of it?"

Smoke nodded and pushed a shaky hand through his long black hair. "You were in it."

"I was? What was I doing?"

"Nothing. You were watching."

"And?"

"This...this beautiful woman...came over to me...and...started rubbing my back."

James didn't care for the sound of that, and it was all he could do not to growl. "Really?"

"Yeah."

"And I didn't do anything?"

"No. But *he* did."

"He who?"

"The man in my dream."

"You dreamed about another man? When were you going to tell me that part, huh? Or did it slip your mind?"

"He was jealous," Smoke said, sounding vaguely stunned.

"Uh huh, I know the feeling," James said, wondering why a dream could seem so...threatening.

"He didn't say anything to the woman. He walked right past her and..."

"And what, Pete?"

"He slapped me." To James' surprise, Smoke's eyes filled with tears. "It hurt. So I started to cry."

"Pete, you don't have to tell me the rest of it if you don't want to..."

"No, I want to. I want you to know why it was a nightmare."

"Okay. Why was it a nightmare?"

"Cause the man who hit me was Davenport. And the woman was Derry."

"Jesus, Pete! What did you have to eat last night?"

"Chili, remember?"

"That'll do it," said James with a sigh of relief.

*****

"Jago and Kimmie sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g," singsonged Luc.

"We are not!"

"Are, too!"

"You take that back!"

"Nope!"

"I'll tell!"

"So what? Your daddy doesn't scare me," Luc said bravely.

"I'll tell *your* dad," Jago said, a crafty smile transforming his angelic face.

Luc stopped singing in mid-song. He wasn't scared. He was just being cautious.

*****

Sasha dropped a brown paper bag on the Samuelles' kitchen table. "Want half of my sandwich?"

Chris looked up from the Math textbook he was studying. He had a perfectly good desk in his room, but ever since they had been grounded, he felt almost claustrophobic when he spent too much time up there. "What kind?"

"Tuna."

"Left over from lunch?"

"Yeah. Fresh from my school locker."

"Ewww. I don't think so."

"Have you...um...seen your sister?"

"Fee? Not since we came home."

"Not Fee. Your *other* sister."

"Ohhh..." Chris nodded. "I think she's in the TV room."

"Oh."

Chris shut his textbook. "Have you tried talking to her since...you know?"

Sasha shook his head.

"Well, why not?"

Sasha sat down on the chair with a thump. "I don't think I know how anymore."

"You never used to be a coward, Sash."

"It's not like I can say anything different, Chris. She's still way too young to date. I can't change that."

"So you're just never going to talk to her again? Isn't that what led to all that drinking in the first place?"

Sasha shuddered. "Thanks for the reminder."

"You're being a jerk. She loves you."

"Oh, God, what can I say to her?" Sasha tugged both hands through his hair, thoroughly mussing it.

"You could try, 'I missed you'," Skye said softly.

Sasha looked up and there she was, his beautiful, bright angel. His mouth went completely dry and for a moment, he couldn't think of a thing to say. But the bemused smile on her face prompted him to say *something*.

"Ange..." he whispered.

Chris picked up his books. "I'm going to take these upstairs. I'll see you guys later." And with a brief wave, he was gone, leaving the two of them alone.

"I'm sorry," they both said at the same time.

Skye giggled. "You know what they say about great minds."

"I *have* missed you, Ange. More than I can say."

"Me, too."

"You probably heard about what happened after the concert."

"About you getting drunk? Yes. I didn't know it was my fault, though. I'm sorry, Beast."

"There was something else you probably *didn't* hear, Ange. Only I'm not sure I should tell you. It might give you the wrong idea about how I feel and--"

"You mean about you and that girl?"

Sasha winced. He was ashamed of how close he'd come to acting on what could have been a dangerous impulse. He wasn't even sure he liked the idea of Skye knowing what he'd done. How could she ever trust him again?

Skye reached out to touch his mouth with her fingers. "Did you kiss her?"

Sasha blinked at the tears that suddenly appeared in his eyes. "Yes," he said hoarsely.

"Did you...you know...make love to her?"

"No!" Sasha almost shouted, startling the young girl. "No," he repeated, this time more softly. "I'll never make love to anyone but you." He wondered if she understood the distinction he was making. He might have sex with someone else, but there was no way he could ever make love to anyone else but her.

Skye smiled. "I think you mean it."

"I do."

"I love you," she said shyly.

He didn't need to hear another word. That was all it took to right his world. He pulled her gently into his arms and held her. But it was Skye who kissed him. It was the lightest, most insubstantial caress that he'd ever received, but it truly was an angel's kiss. His angel.

"What's this?" Jazz held out a slim white envelope to his father.

James glanced absently in the direction that Jazz indicated. "Looks like mail to me."

"It doesn't have a stamp."

"You're right. Guess that means it was hand-delivered."

"By who?"

"I have a great suggestion. Why don't you open it and find out?"

Jazz bit his lip. "You think I should?"

"It's addressed to you, isn't it?"

Jazz couldn't imagine why anyone would write to him. It could only mean bad news, bad luck, or, well, something bad, anyway.

He carefully opened the envelope and extracted what seemed to be a handwritten invitation. Holding it between trembling fingers, he read, to his amazement, that his presence was requested on a certain evening in June. "Oh, my God!"

From the way Jazz suddenly paled, James was sure that something was wrong. But nothing could have been further from the truth. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Nothing at all."

James scowled at the young man. "Are you going to keep me in suspense or tell me what it says?"

Jazz looked up and for the first time, James could see that his bright green eyes were glistening. "Adam asked me to go to his Senior Prom."

"Really?" When Jazz nodded, James broke into a wide grin. "Well, I always did say that boy had a lot of class."

"You did not," Jazz replied with a chuckle.

"Well, I should have."

"Does this mean you'll let me go?" Jazz asked hopefully.

"Could I stop you?" James retorted, a gentle smile in his eyes.

"Yes, you could. I want to go, Dad, but I won't go against you. Not after what happened...well, you know."

"Thanks, kid." James paused for a second, knowing that Jazz was waiting on his every breath. "Of course you can go."

Jazz gave him a watery smile and James couldn't resist hugging him. Jazz expected so little, but he gave so much to both his and Smoke's lives.

"It's still a couple of months away," Jazz mumbled into James' shoulder. "I've been kinda trying not to think about the end of the school year."

"Why? You love the summer."

Jazz drew back and pushed a long strand of golden brown hair behind his ear. "Adam's going to graduate this year, Dad. He's going away to college in the fall." He closed his eyes. "Away from me."

"You'll be going to college, too, someday. I hope," James noted sympathetically.

"But--"

"Maybe Adam will stay here instead of going away."

"Why would he do that?"

James gazed affectionately at his son. "Don't you think you're pretty important to him?"

Jazz' mouth all but dropped open in disbelief. "You really think he would do that? For *me*?"

"I wouldn't be surprised."

*****

Jazz pretended to be all kinds of casual when he met Adam at school the following day. But inside his stomach was filled with butterflies. "Hey," he said, greeting the older teenager.

"Hey," Adam responded.

"I, uh, got your invitation..." Jazz managed to say without stammering.

Adam leaned against the wall, his legs encased in tight black jeans that left very little to the imagination. "Oh?"

"I accept." Jazz was very proud of how that came out. Firm. Confident.

"I had a feeling you might," Adam said, his hip jutting out at just the right angle to connect with Jazz' side.

Jazz gulped and prayed that he didn't embarrass himself in some way. Adam could be supremely cool when he tried, but he was more vulnerable than he looked. That gave Jazz an advantage that he would never use against Adam. But it had the desired effect of calming his nerves.

"Are you really going to take me to the Prom, Adam?" he whispered so that they weren't overheard.

Adam nodded. "I promise."

"You sure no one's going to hassle us?"

"Anyone who hurts you will have to answer to me," Adam said, sounding almost aggressive.

Jazz sighed even as his hands ached to stroke Adam's face. "I wish I could touch you," he murmured under his breath.

"Same here."

A couple of girls passed by and gave them curious looks. Adam deduced that he must be standing too close to Jazz or looking at him too intently and stepped back, his back now flush against the wall. "I'll see you later, Nick."

Jazz shook his head affirmatively and tapped one finger to the necklace that lay hidden beneath his T-shirt. On that necklace was a cheap dimestore ring with a faux emerald that reminded Adam of Jazz' eyes. It didn't matter how many other things Adam gave Jazz. He would always value that the most.

Under the pretext of handing Jazz a textbook, Adam deliberately stroked the back of Jazz' hand, a gesture that went instantly to Jazz' groin. Jazz lowered the book to cover his groin and smiled faintly.

Two months could be a long time.

Adam kissed Jazz. It was a slow, lingering kiss, the type that girls swoon over in romance novels, but it was happening to two people of a *very* male persuasion. Jazz mused that he could easily give up breathing for kisses like these. When Adam finally let him go, Jazz' lips were reddened and swollen.

"You look good enough to eat," Adam said huskily.

Jazz murmured, "Promises, promises."

Without a sound, Adam slid to his knees and unzipped Jazz' jeans. Seconds later, Jazz could only close his eyes and suck in his breath at the sensation of Adam's mouth on him.

"No...it's too much...I-I'm going to come."

Adam merely smiled and waited.

Jazz' groan of satisfaction as he spilled his essence inside his lover's mouth was like music to Adam's ears. He reluctantly released Jazz and slid his way back up the length of his body. With a moan of his own, he nudged Jazz' legs apart and pressed his now-throbbing erection hard against him.

"You make me so hot, Nicky," he whispered as he tongued Jazz' ear. The younger teenager shivered despite his recent climax.

"Adammm..." he breathed.

Suddenly the dogs began barking. Adam froze where he was and Jazz' eyes widened. "Someone must have come in!" Adam whispered.

The very thought upset Adam. He'd taken to thinking of the kennels as *their* place and the idea of anyone intruding on them just struck him as...unfathomable.

Jazz zipped his jeans, wincing at the loudness of the metal teeth clashing together. "The lights are off. They can't see us, Adam," Jazz whispered.

"What do you suppose they want?"

"Well, this *is* a kennel," Jazz offered by way of explanation.

At Adam's sound of disgust, Jazz framed his face between two hands and kissed him. He could taste himself on Adam's lips and slipped his tongue inside to sample further. Adam melted under Jazz' tender ministrations and found himself growing hard again despite the certain knowledge that there was someone outside the small vet's office they claimed.

Adam broke away with a breathless noise, "What if they can hear us?"

Jazz grinned in the dark as he caressed Adam's lower lip with his fingertips. "What if they can?" he asked, noting that the idea of making love under the threat of discovery felt vaguely...exciting.

Jazz replaced his fingers with his lips and kissed Adam again. "Mmmm..."

Adam opened his mouth and accepted Jazz' tongue as a welcome intrusion. Jazz cupped Adam's arousal, which now strained the zipper of his jeans to a degree that must have been painful. Adam's response was to slowly grind his groin against Jazz' hand.

"I thought about this all day," Adam whispered.

"You did?" Jazz unsnapped the top of Adam's jeans with his free hand. "Even during Chemistry?"

It was a standing joke between them that the teacher who replaced Clifford was boring enough to put her students to sleep. But that was okay. Bland was a hell of an improvement over predatory.

"Especially then," Adam said, shifting so that Jazz' hand suddenly plunged inside his jeans. "Ohh..."

"Like that?" Jazz nibbled on Adam's chin, but his actions were anything but playful. For someone relatively inexperienced, Jazz was proving to be a good student of human nature.

Adam grabbed a handful of Jazz' long hair and pulled hard, forcing Jazz' head back. He sucked at a spot on his lover's neck that he'd made earlier, deepening and darkening the bruise.

"You're mine, Nick," he cried out as he spurted his wet heat into the palm of Jazz' hand.

He clung to Jazz as he spasmed, his teeth accidentally grazing Jazz' neck. Jazz gasped, his tongue flicking out to moisten his lips. When Adam came to, he murmured apologetically, "I'm sorry, baby, I hope I didn't hurt you."

"Oh, no, Adam. I love what you do to me," Jazz whispered hotly.

"That turned you on, you bad boy?" Adam licked the place where his teethmarks still marked Jazz' skin. "Are you going to make me spank you?"

Jazz wriggled restively in his arms, Adam's words going straight to his groin. "You just want to get your hands on my ass."

Adam's cock twitched interestedly and he groaned. "Nick, you have no idea."

They chuckled softly, their laughter mingling with the everyday sounds of the kennels.

Suddenly an all too familiar voice called out, "Make sure you wash your hands before you come to dinner, Jazz."

"Pete?" Jazz blurted out, unfortunately loud enough to confirm Smoke's suspicions.

"Twenty minutes. And don't make me come in there after you, okay? Two of you smelling doggy is enough."

"But Pete--"

Smoke smiled to himself and made a mental note to buy a lock for the kennel's main door. All that plotting and planning and they'd ended up in the kennels?

"Oh, and Jazz? I know you want privacy, but there's a lock on your door for a reason. Adam's liable to think he's not welcome in the house."

A muffled "Pete!" squawked its way from the shadows in the back.

It was followed by a throaty laugh and the resounding smack of lips meeting.

Faith straddled Connor's body. Her elbow hovered dangerously close to his nose and for a moment, he was convinced that she was going to break it. Just for effect. But she managed to control herself.

He breathed a sigh of relief.

"That was very good, Faith."

Faith smiled in the direction of the martial arts instructor. While no one could ever describe Adrian as mellow, the arrival of his pregnant wife, Francesca, definitely seemed to soften the man's often acerbic tones.

Adrian waited patiently, but when Faith showed no signs of getting up of her own accord, he cleared his throat. "Ahem, Faith, you may release Connor now."

"Do I have to?"

Connor pushed Faith away and she reluctantly let him go, springing to her feet seconds later with the agility of a young deer. She offered her hand to help him stand up and Connor accepted. But to his chagrin, Faith used her grip on his wrist to pull him closer. "You want me and you know it," she whispered, her lips suddenly close enough to kiss.

Connor shook his head. "You don't know what you're doing, Fee."

"We could find out together," she suggested, her breath warm and sweet on his face.

"You like trouble. I don't."

Faith giggled and gave him a playful shove. "You like *my* kind of trouble."

"Don't push me again, Fee," Connor warned.

"Oh, yeah? What are you going to do to me? Talk me to death?"

With surprising speed and skill, Connor pushed Faith against the wall of the practice room, grabbed both her wrists and pinned her arms above her head. He stared at her for a long moment before he kissed her, suddenly and passionately, like a young man driven to the brink of his control.

Adrian tapped his cheek with a well-shaped finger. "I don't believe that particular move is currently part of the curriculum."

Connor turned to face him, an uncharacteristically wild look in his eyes. "Screw your curriculum," he said quietly. "I'm done here."

"Connor!" Faith protested.

Adrian could have stopped him. But it was obvious how aroused the teenager was, and if Connor had the good sense to remove himself from Faith's proximity, he wasn't about to argue with him. "Let him go," he commanded.

Faith blinked, her eyes more gray than green as they filled with unshed tears. "Can I leave now?"

Adrian nodded. His wife was due to give birth any day now. Otherwise, he might have asked her to speak to Faith. But perhaps he would just let Nikita know that her oldest daughter was clearly in need of a heart-to-heart.

*****

"I didn't do anything, Em," Faith sniffled.

Emmy stifled a sigh. Faith was a classic case of someone who never meant to *do* anything, but somehow she always *did*. "What didn't you do this time, Fee?"

When Faith finished bringing Emmy up to date, she couldn't understand why Emmy was looking at her strangely. "What? You think I did something wrong?"

"Fee, come on...you're not that dumb."

"What? What did I do?"

"You know how Sasha gets when he's around Skye?" Emmy asked patiently, hoping the bits and pieces would fall into place in Faith's head without her having to explain further.

"Yeah...."

"Well, that's how Connor's getting...around *you*."

"I make him hot?"

Emmy resisted the urge to laugh. Faith could be almost aggressively inquisitive at times, but this was one area she evidently hadn't explored.

"Yeah."

Faith looked dumbfounded. Then her face broke into a broad grin. "*I* did that?"

"You sound like you're proud of it or something," Emmy said, glancing at her curiously.

"He really wants me," Faith continued, her tone more reverent now.

Emmy snorted, "Yeah, there's no accounting for taste, huh?"

Faith chuckled and gave her a sly look. "Guess I'll have to try pushing a little harder and see what happens."

"Fee! You *know* what'll happen! You two will end up in trouble so bad even *you* won't be able to find a way out!"

If anything, Faith seemed tantalized by the thought. "Yeahhh..." she said dreamily.

Emmy made an attempt to look stern, but failed miserably. "Well, I hope Connor has more sense than *you* do."

"What are you doing here?" Connor asked in an exasperated tone.

After his close encounter with Faith, Connor retreated to his house, telling his father that he had heavy-duty studying to do. His father was engrossed in a conversation with Ned and nodded, but Connor suspected that he was too preoccupied to notice Connor's condition. That meant that unless there was an earthquake or some other natural disaster, Neil was unlikely to disturb Connor for the rest of the night.

That would normally be good news.

But not now. Connor was unbearably aroused and in dire need of a cold shower. Having Faith standing this close to him in his present condition was torment.

"I came to help you...study," she said, her tongue flicking out to moisten her lips.

"In that outfit?" Connor raked his dark blue eyes over the clothes she had changed into after their martial arts lesson. It was almost spring, but she was definitely pushing the season by wearing a halter top and shorts.

"I'm surprised Dad let you in," he commented sarcastically.

"Oh, him." Faith wrinkled her nose. "He was snuggling up to Ned."

"Eww, way too much information," Connor responded with a similar grimace.

"I thought you were okay with him dating Ned."

"I am. It wouldn't matter if Ned was a girl. I still wouldn't want to know what Dad was doing with her. I mean, him."

"He looked pretty distracted to me." Faith leaned on Connor and stroked a recently-manicured fingertip across his mouth.

"Stop that," Connor said weakly.

"Or what?"

"Or else."

"Mmm, I liked the or else you gave me before. Can we do that one again?"

"You're playing with fire."

"I like fire."

Faith pushed Connor further into his room before he could respond, kicking the door shut with her foot. She claimed his mouth possessively, consciously trying to imitate the way he kissed her earlier. Her fingers winding their way through his thick blond hair, she spread herself over him like butter on toast.

Connor never had a chance.

He fell back onto the bed, taking her with him. Suddenly Connor took charge, rolling them over so that Faith was breathless beneath him. They kissed again and again, sloppy kisses that were touching in their relative innocence and yet well capable of lighting a conflagration that could burn out of their control.

Just as Connor's knee slid between Faith's legs, there was a noise that froze both of them. The door opened with a loud creak and there stood his sister Kady.

Despite the fact that she was only six years old, Kady managed to look imperious. Her arms carefully folded in front of her, she drew herself up to her full height, which wasn't as much as she'd like. "I'm gonna tell," she sing-songed, immediately destroying any resemblance to her mother.

"You should have knocked."

"You should have locked the door."

On second thought, the little girl was beginning to bear a striking similarity to her mother.

Connor grabbed his pillow off the bed and flung it at her. Kady watched disinterestedly as it fell short and landed with a soft plop on the carpet.

"You're a brat."

"So? You're a...I dunno what you are. But Daddy'll know. Won't he?"

"How would you like a nice shiny quarter?" Faith asked, clearly intending to buy the little girl's silence.

"A lousy quarter? I bet this is worth at least a dollar," Kady announced.

Sometimes she really acted like Madeline's daughter.