"It was cool of Adrian to give us a ride home," Sasha said, grasping Skye's hand.

"It was even cooler that he put in a good word for us with Mom and Dad," Skye added.

The couple stood outside the back door, the chill in the night air making itself evident as Skye shivered. Sasha immediately offered the young girl his jacket and she accepted, draping the supple black leather over her arms with almost sensual pleasure.

"Mmm, it smells like you," she said, wrinkling her nose daintily.

"Hey," he protested, "it's been a long day."

"I *like* the way it smells."

"Y-you do?"

Skye nodded. "And it feels all warm and soft like your arms are wrapped around me," she said dreamily.

"Hey, don't get *too* attached to it, Ange. You might not want the real thing."

"Never happen," she whispered, her lips parted as if she were anticipating a kiss.

"Don't look at me like that, Ange," Sasha murmured.

"Like what?"

"Like you want me to kiss you." He moved closer, his arms closing protectively over his jacket to embrace her. "You *do* want me to kiss you, don't you?" he asked huskily.

"Uh huh," she said softly, her light blue eyes never leaving his face.

His fingers played restlessly with her long pale hair as he bent his head. His mouth sought hers, meaning only to brush her lips gently, but he couldn't stop there. He claimed her possessively, setting up a gut-wrenching response in his groin that clamored for his attention.

He broke away with a barely audible gasp. "Sorry. I didn't mean to kiss you so hard. Did I scare you?"

Skye smiled tentatively, her lower lip trembling with ill-concealed emotion. "A little."

Sasha swore under his breath, mentally vowing never to touch her like that again. At least, not until she was older.

But as she often did, Skye surprised him. "But in a good way."

"What do you mean?"

"Now I understand why it's so hard for you to stop."

"I'm old enough to know better. I've been down this road before, Skye. Maybe...we need to take a break from each other. Just for a while."

"So you can be with other girls?" she asked.

"Yes." There. He'd said it. It needed to be said. He couldn't go on like this, a jumbled mass of conflicting feelings and nerve endings. It wasn't good for either one of them.

"You want to date."

"Yes." His dark eyes searched hers for understanding even as they begged for forgiveness.

Skye licked her lips to moisten them. Suddenly her mouth was incredibly dry. "You want to kiss them." Her voice sounded brittle, as though it would crack at any moment.

He nodded.

"You want to do more than that," she whispered, her voice suddenly devoid of any color at all.

He sighed and brushed her hair away from her face. "I love *you*, Ange. I won't ever love anyone else."

"But you can't wait for me anymore."

Sasha closed his eyes and willed back the tears that threatened. When he opened them, Skye was still there, staring at him with tragic eyes. "No," he said shakily, "I don't think I can."

"Okay." That was all she said. She shrugged her shoulders and pulled his jacket away from her body, almost as if she couldn't bear to touch it. "Here. This is *yours*."

"Are you sure you don't want it? Just for a little while?"

"No, thanks. I have to go inside now."

"Ange...please tell me you understand," Sasha begged.

"I do," she replied sadly. "That doesn't make it any easier."

Sasha watched her open the door and disappear inside the house. He stood there, his bare arms pimpling with goosebumps, but unable to do anything but hold his jacket limply in his arms.

Skye was right. It was no substitute for the real thing.

"Wow, they're so small," Luc said, seemingly awestruck by the size of the triplets. Although young children were not usually permitted to visit the maternity floor, Adrian insisted that Luc be allowed to see his newborn sons and daughter.

"That's because there are three of them. They didn't have that much room inside Cesca's tummy," Adrian explained.

"Did you figure out what to name 'em?" Luc asked, peering intently through the plexiglass window.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, we did." Adrian smiled warmly at the six-year old. "Would you like to hear their names? You're the very first to know what they are."

"I am? Wow."

"The one on the left..." Adrian pointed to a small blue bundle with a lush head of light brown hair. "...that's Thomas Christopher."

"Oh, boy! After my brother Chris?"

"Uh huh." Adrian slid his hand along the glass to a spot slightly to the right of the first one. "And that one...that's Stephen Michael."

"You named him after my Daddy?"

The expression on Luc's face was priceless. He was obviously stunned, not by the fact that someone would think his father was important enough to be remembered that way, but by the fact that someone actually listened to what *he* said and acted on it.

"Yes. But he's also named after *you*."

"Me?" Luc squealed. "You named him after *me*?"

Adrian nodded solemnly. "Absolutely. He's your namesake."

"Wow." That seemed to be the only word left in Luc's vocabulary. But it was fitting.

Several moments passed before Luc asked about the third child, Adrian and Francesca's daughter. "The last one. What's her name?"

"Ah. That's my beautiful Amber. Amber Adrienne. My sole capitulation to vanity, I'm afraid." Adrian smiled ruefully.

"Your capit--huh?"

Adrian knelt down at Luc's side and admitted,"I named her after *me*," in a conspiratorial whisper.

"That's okay. You're her daddy."

Adrian stared at his new daughter, his smile fading slowly. "Yes, I am."

"Don't worry. They're lucky to have *you* as a daddy. Not as lucky as *me*, but they'll be okay," Luc assured the older man.

					Authors note: 
		*In case my transition doesn't come across as clearly 
		as I'd hoped, we have now skipped ahead about three 
		or four months. It's now Spring. This has been your 
		unsolicited reality orientation for today. :-)

"Is that how you explain the sappy grin you're wearing? And here I thought you were studying "Romeo and Juliet" in school," commented James.

"I'm *not* grinning," Jazz protested, a broad smile giving the lie to his words.

Smoke chuckled. "You sure you're not feeling extra happy today?"

"Why? What's today?" Jazz replied innocently, pretending that he wasn't counting the days left till the Prom.

"We're going shopping, remember? For the tux?"

Jazz hid his face, but that didn't prevent either man from seeing how he blushed. "I know it's stupid," he muttered under his breath.

Smoke frowned and pulled on Jazz' chin, forcing Jazz to look at him. His exotically beautiful son peered through a shining curtain of golden brown hair, his bright green eyes striking against his skin. "Don't say that. It's not stupid. It's a big deal."

"If I was a girl, maybe."

James joined Smoke, the two of them surrounding Jazz in a loose but loving embrace. "We know how important this is to you. Why do you think we're taking you shopping?"

"Cause I whined and whimpered until you couldn't stand it anymore?" Jazz offered weakly.

"Well, yeah," James agreed, "but the truth is, we want you two to be color-coordinated."

"Right," Smoke said readily, just a hint of a teasing smile in his eyes. "After all, you'll never live it down if you and Adam *clash*."

Jazz stared at his parents incredulously. "The color of our cummerbunds is the last thing on my mind."

"Jazz, if you don't lighten up, you're going to burn yourself out. *Try* to relax," James urged.

"I'm r-relaxed," Jazz said, his teeth beginning to chatter.

"No, you're not. Sweetie, you're scared to death."

Jazz blinked. "Not of going to the Prom. Well, a little, but--"

"More like a lot."

"I *want* to go. I swear. It's the most exciting thing that's ever happened to me."

"But?" Smoke prompted.

"If we...go together...everyone'll know..." he whispered.

"Know what?" James asked.

"That Adam is...you know."

"You've never had any trouble with your sexuality before, Jazz. Why now? What is this about?"

Jazz sighed. "It's just that Adam's going to college. If he outs us...well, I just don't want anyone to ruin things for him."

"What about you? You're the one being left behind. Aren't you worried about how people might treat *you*?"

Jazz shook his head vehemently. "I don't care how they treat *me*. Like you said, I know what I am. I've known for a long time. But Adam--"

Smoke turned concerned blue eyes on his 16-year old son. "Are you afraid that he'll change his mind about you?"

"Well...."

Now it was Smoke's turn to shake his head. "I thought you had more faith than that. You'd better. If you want this relationship to last."

"I do," Jazz confessed, tears starting to sparkle in his vivid green eyes. "I l-love him."

"I know you do," Smoke agreed, giving the younger man a hug. "So let's go shopping, okay?"

"Okay."

*****

It was late by the time they got back. Adam was waiting impatiently outside, pacing back and forth like an expectant father. "There you are!" he exclaimed. "What took so long?"

James gathered the shopping bags together while Smoke locked the car. "Hey, Philistine. You want quick or you want beautiful?" James called out to Adam.

"Jazz always looks good to me," Adam said, not without a certain trace of reverence.

"Ah, but there's good and there's *great*," James clarified.

Adam shrugged. "So...what color did you get? Green to match your eyes?"

Jazz made a face at his lover and rolled his eyes expressively. "We went with the black."

Smoke came up behind Jazz and patted him on the shoulder. "You can never go wrong with black."

"Old-fashioned, huh?" Adam quipped.

"Classic," James corrected. "Wait till you see it on."

"Speaking of that...when will I? Get to see it, I mean?" Adam asked.

"You can't see it before the Prom. Bad luck."

"I thought that was weddings."

"Weddings, Proms, it's all the same thing to me. Lots of dancing. Lots of drinking. Followed by lots of you-know-what in the backseat of someone's car--"

"Smoke! Too much information!" Adam shouted.

In the meantime, James began to cross-examine Smoke about his experience with making love in cars. "What do *you* know about..."

James allowed his voice to fade out when he saw the amused look both teenagers were giving him. "That was *not* permission to do the deed in the backseat of *my* car, by the way."

"Oh, we wouldn't," Adam vowed, trying to stifle a laugh. "My dad's renting a limo for us."

James glared mightily at Adam until Adam continued. "Not that we're going to do anything in the limo either."

"Good."

"I booked a hotel room."

"Jesus."

"Oh, Adam..."

"Now *that* was too much information for *me*," James said. "I didn't buy this gorgeous black velvet tux just so *you* could take it off him in some sleazy hotel."

"Oh, it's not. A sleazy hotel. I saved up until I had enough to pay for a suite at the one we stayed at in Paris."

"And who said you two could stay out *all night*?"

"You were going to keep me out *all night*?" Jazz asked Adam, the look of love in his eyes absolutely breathtaking.

"It was supposed to be a surprise," Adam admitted, casting a sidelong glance at the two older men.

"And the hotel suite is part of an even *bigger* surprise," Adam deliberately glared at James and Smoke.

Jazz instantly faced his parents and started pleading. "Oh, please don't say he has to bring me right home. Please....?"

James looked at Smoke, who gave an almost imperceptible nod. Though neither one of them exchanged a single word, they were both fairly certain what Adam's surprise was. As far as they were concerned, Adam's union with Jazz was inevitable. But more than that, Adam had consistently met with their approval as a potential life partner for Jazz. That was something they did not take lightly.

"Jazz, do you understand why this night will not be like any other night?"

His face suddenly grave, Jazz nodded.

James trained his intense deep blue gaze upon Adam next. "Adam, do you promise to love, honor and respect Jazz for as long as you both are together?"

Jazz started to interject, "Dad, it's not like we're getting married--"

James quelled him with a powerful look. "It's *exactly* like that. If you don't understand that, then--"

Adam placed his hand on the back of Jazz' neck, a gesture that was as surprising as it was intimate. Applying a subtle pressure to Jazz' nape, Adam then curled his fingers into Jazz' hair. Without pausing, Adam lowered his head and kissed Jazz. Right in front of both parents.

When they broke apart, Jazz looked mildly stunned while Adam seemed completely and utterly serene. When he spoke, it was to answer James' earlier question. "Yes. I promise to love, honor and respect Nick..." This time he did pause, but only to change the time element that James requested.

"...for as long as we both are alive."

"You don't have to--" Jazz began.

Adam pressed his fingers to Jazz' lips to silence him. "But I do. It's how I feel, Nick. That was part of the surprise, too, I guess. That I want you to be with me forever. But I thought you already knew that. Don't you feel it, too?"

Jazz nodded mutely.

Adam turned back to face James and Smoke. James wore an expression that could best be described as enigmatic, while Smoke seemed visibly moved. "Can I keep him?" Adam asked softly.

"Yeah," James replied, wondering why his voice chose that moment to break. Smoke wrapped his arms around James' waist and buried his face against his chest. "You okay, Pete?" James whispered.

In answer, Smoke tightened his grip on James and exhaled slowly. "Yeah," he managed to say finally.

Adam could feel Jazz trembling with reaction beneath his fingertips. He pulled him into his arms and held him, knowing that James and Smoke were still watching. It didn't matter. He knew what to do. Jazz was his. "Did you really think I wouldn't want you to be with me forever and ever?" he whispered into Jazz' ear.

Jazz' heart leapt into his throat and hovered there, preventing him from speaking. Then he swallowed hard. "I h-hoped," he whispered back, the words muffled as he snuggled closer to his lover.

There would be time enough for mundane things like choosing the color of the flowers that would accompany the tux. Right now, everyone was more than satisfied with how things turned out.

"I'd better get home. I still have some studying to do. Finals, you know."

Jazz reluctantly let go of Adam and stepped back. "Okay," he said hoarsely. "See you tomorrow?"

"Count on it, Nick." Adam pressed an all-too-brief kiss to Jazz' cheek before waving to James and Smoke.

"Night, guys."

"G'night, Adam," James said, his arms still wrapped tightly around Smoke.

After Adam left, Jazz studied Smoke with fresh concern. "Are you okay, Pete?"

Smoke nodded without moving away from James. Moments later, he burrowed even more deeply into James' embrace, evidently finding physical contact with his lover more soothing than talk.

"He'll be all right, Jazz." James managed a smile that reached his eyes at last. "We're both very happy that you and Adam found each other. I think it just hit Pete that you're really and truly growing up."

All at once Jazz realized that his own eyes were wet. "If we're all so damn happy..." Jazz paused to sniffle. "...how come we're all crying?"

Smoke stirred restlessly within James' arms. "Cause you're getting married," he said tearfully.

"But I'm not moving out, Pete. I've got two more years of school to get through. Even if I wanted to go live with Adam at college, I couldn't. I'm only 16, remember?"

Smoke reached out and caressed Jazz' face. "You're not leaving us yet?"

"No," Jazz replied softly, leaning into Smoke's hand. It was rare for Smoke to touch him this way. He was so careful to avoid any hint of impropriety. Jazz held onto the feeling as hard as he could, knowing that he would treasure the memory of Smoke being so moved for the rest of his life.

Smoke kissed Jazz' temple before releasing him with a loud sigh. "You're a good kid. I know I don't tell you much, but I--"

"I know, Pete," Jazz said quietly. "I feel the same way."

"You'll probably want to visit him a lot," Smoke said.

Jazz nodded.

"Stay overnight once in a while."

Jazz nodded again.

"I think that's okay," Smoke allowed.

James instantly jumped in to add, "As long as you stay in school, kid."

Jazz smiled. "That's what Adam said."

"I knew there was a reason I liked that boy," James laughed.

*****

Jazz undressed quickly and slid under the covers. Adam had given him so much to think about. It was going to take more than an evening or two to sort through everything.

A muffled ring caught his attention just before he fell asleep. Realizing that his cell phone was underneath his pillow, he found it and pressed the send button. "Hello?" he whispered.

"I couldn't let you go to sleep without saying good night, baby," Adam whispered.

Jazz pulled the covers over his head, further muffling the sound of their conversation. "I can't stop thinking about what you said, Adam."

"I mean it, Nicky."

They were both too exhausted to talk for very long, but the last words Jazz uttered before he finally gave in to his body's demand for sleep echoed in Adam's mind until he, too, went to sleep with a curious smile on his face.

"I love you, Adam. I can't wait till I can show you how much."

"You're wearing *purple*?"

"It's my favorite color."

"You can't wear purple!"

"What's wrong with purple?"

"What's wrong with *black*?"

"It's not as interesting as purple."

"Obviously."

"Are you pouting?"

"Nah. Not worth getting worked up over the color of your tux."

A loud sigh echoed throughout the bedroom. "You want me to wear black?"

"Or white. You could wear white," Adam offered hopefully.

Jazz rolled his expressive green eyes. "Excuse me? You want me to look like a bride or something?"

Adam grinned from ear to ear. "Yeah."

"You're a sick puppy, Adam," Jazz said dryly, patting his lover on the cheek. But before Jazz could snatch back his hand, Adam pulled Jazz' fingers to his mouth. With a growl, Adam sucked Jazz' index finger into his mouth.

Jazz could do nothing but look on breathlessly. But the temptation of Jazz' lush lower lip finally became too much for Adam to resist. Adam bent his head and gently captured his lover's lip between his teeth. The light nip caused Jazz to gasp, allowing Adam to plunge his tongue deep inside.

"I don't hear talking," a deep masculine voice called out.

"We're thinking," Adam shouted back playfully.

"Well, think a little louder," responded James.

"How do you feel about purple?" Jazz asked, wrapping his arms around Adam's neck.

"Purple's looking better all the time," Adam admitted.

"My tux is going to be purple!" Jazz yelled to James.

"No way!" Smoke replied. "What happened to the simple elegance of black?"

"Adam wants white!" Jazz shouted, chuckling as he nuzzled Adam's chin.

Suddenly there was dead silence. A moment later, Smoke stood in the now open doorway. "You *are* getting married."

Jazz started to laugh, but the expression on Smoke's face was anything but comical. "Not yet, Pete."

"But soon," Smoke said, his face grave.

Adam saw the sadness in Smoke's face and reacted the only way he knew how. "Just think, Smoke. You're not *losing* a son. You're *gaining* one. Now there'll be *two* of us to push around."

Smoke smiled. "If you're not careful, I'll make Jazz hold out till you graduate from *college*."

Adam's mouth dropped open. "You're evil."

"And don't you forget it."