Davenport ambled into the kitchen, seeking a glass of milk for Cassidy. As he poured the milk into a tall glass, Nikita entered the kitchen. "I didn’t know you liked milk, Dav."

To her utter amazement, Davenport colored furiously.

Nikita giggled. "Did I say something wrong?"

"No, no..." Davenport reassured her. "Not wrong. No." He looked so uncharacteristically uncomfortable, Nikita couldn’t let the matter rest. "Okay, Dav, you’re up to something."

"No. Really." But he continued to blush.

"You have a secret?" Nikita grinned.

"Um..." Lying didn’t sit well with Davenport on a good day. And now, considering how much he felt he owed Nikita and Michael, it was worse.

Nikita stopped smiling. Waving a hand at Davenport, she relented. "Sorry, sorry, I’m used to prying. Comes with the territory."

"What territory?" Davenport looked blankly at Nikita.

"Living in a family like this. With so many kids and so many different personalities, it’s amazing we aren’t in constant conflict with each other. Guess I’m kinda the resident peacemaker."

"I want to tell you, Nikita. But..."

"It’s okay." Nikita let it go, knowing Davenport would come to his own resolution without her help.

There was a long pause. Nikita could feel his underlying tension. She broke the tension the next moment with her own revelation. "Dav...I just have to tell someone and you’re the perfect someone to tell...I’m going to have another baby."

Nikita beamed. She was completely at peace with the idea now, and she wanted everyone to know. Even before she saw Neil. She didn’t need his confirmation to know that another life was growing inside of her. She could feel it.

"You are?" Davenport seemed to shrink a little, his color far paler than just a minute ago.

That was odd. Nikita would have thought he would be happy for her. She frowned. "I expected a little smile, at least."

Davenport caught himself before he could give voice to his own worry and concerns about Cassidy and her pregnancy. He forced a smile, feeling like the world’s greatest hypocrite. "I am happy for you, Nikita. You of all people deserve a little happiness."

But Nikita found Davenport surprisingly easy to read. Perhaps it was the escape from Section that changed him. The conflicting emotions driving him were written across his face. "But something about my pregnancy bothers you?"

"I want...I need to talk to someone about this. But..." His handsome face grew even more inexplicably conflicted. "I can’t."

"It’s Derry, isn’t it?"

He nodded.

She waited.

Suddenly it was like a dam broke. Davenport was used to being in charge, being in control, and he usually knew when this was not possible, and he’d taught himself not to agonize over those times. But this...was personal. More importantly, this was...Derry. The love of his life. All at once, it all spilled out. Derry’s slow adjustment to life on the outside. Her sudden reluctance to marry him. Her inability to settle on a place to live.

It was as if she were postponing their life together. Davenport was a big man, often mistaken for being tough, but he was gentle at heart. And he felt overwhelmed. Because marriage to Derry was something he very much wanted. No...it was more than that. He didn’t want to live without her. And as much as he told himself not to push, for fear of losing her, he was dangerously close to doing just that.

His jet black eyes filled with tears, he struggled for control and the right words. "I love her. I want her to set a date for the wedding. She keeps...inventing reasons she can’t. She wants time. What does she need time for?"

"When we were back at Section, there was no time. There was only endless darkness. No future. Now we’ve got a future. Why’s she doing this?"

Nikita tugged gently on Davenport’s arm, finally succeeding in pulling the big man into a hug. "Hey...Derry’s very much like Sasha, I think. Her life began as an unwanted child and went downhill from there. She was trained as the perfect assassin. You know Section never wastes time teaching its ops the social niceties of life."

"She must be scared to death, Dav. She doesn’t know how to be a woman, much less a friend. A friend, much less a wife. A wife, much less a mother."

Davenport looked stunned. "How did you kno--?" He sighed. "You didn’t. I just..."

Davenport couldn’t hold back the tears that threatened any longer. "She’s pregnant, Nikita. I don’t want my first child to be born out of wedlock. I don’t care how old-fashioned that sounds. That’s who I am."

"Derry doesn’t strike me as the type that can be forced into anything...certainly not something as important as marriage."

Davenport looked sadly at Nikita. "What should I do?"

Nikita smiled knowingly. "I think she needs to start with someone who would understand exactly what she’s going through. Because he’s been there himself."

Davenport looked relieved. "Who?"

"Her brother. Declan."

Davenport all but dragged Cassidy downstairs. He gently nudged her against the door to Declan’s sitting room.

"Why are we here?"

"Talk to your brother," Davenport said firmly.

"About what?" Cassidy asked.

"About becoming an uncle," he hissed.

Cassidy blinked slowly, looking just like her twin brother at that moment. "You’re pushing me."

"Yes."

"Why?" She looked like she was ready to cry.

Davenport cupped her chin with one finger, tilting her face up for his kiss. Unshed tears reflected in his own eyes, he said huskily, "Cause I love you."

"I know that," she snapped, trying to dismiss his concern, but he refused to budge.

"I love you, Derry, and I want to marry you..." he said, his voice crackling with emotion. "I want to marry you now, not later. Not after the baby’s born."

"We have plenty of time, Jake," she protested.

"I can’t accept that."

"Jake!"

"Do you want to be with me?" he asked sharply.

"Aye, you know I do." She tried to stroke his face, but he grabbed her hand and kissed it.

"Then how come when we look at houses, you find fault with every single one? How come when I want to set a date for the wedding, you’ve got an excuse for every single one?"

Suddenly Davenport looked absolutely terrified. "Don’t you love me anymore, darlin’?"

"Oh, Jake." She reached up with one slender finger and wiped at his midnight black eyes. "I love you. I’ll always love you."

She kissed him, so softly, it was like the flutter of butterfly wings gently stirring the air.

He closed his eyes and held her tight. He didn’t care what else she said, he would never let her go. "Then talk to your brother. Maybe he can help you figure out why you’re acting this way. I know I can’t."

"But, Jake..."

Declan opened the door so abruptly, Cassidy would have fallen through the opening if it hadn’t been for Davenport’s snug embrace. "You wanted to see me?" Declan asked, looking at Davenport.

Davenport reluctantly met his eyes, uncomfortably aware of how tearful he might appear. "She does," he said tersely.

Declan raised an eyebrow, as if wondering why his sister didn’t speak for herself. But if there was one thing he had first learned at Section, a lesson he continued to take to heart, it was that nothing was what it seemed. "Come in."

Cassidy looked beseechingly over her shoulder at Davenport. He gave her a gentle push towards Declan. His eyes said it all. Please. Nodding imperceptibly, Cassidy quickly turned to face her brother.

As she crossed the threshold, Declan reached out to close the door, giving Davenport a meaningful look. The older man took a step back, his face carefully shuttered once more. Now he would wait. For the rest of his life to begin.

***

Declan motioned Cassidy into a chair, taking a seat opposite her. She glanced at her brother from beneath impossibly long eyelashes.

Declan had not spoken to his sister in any depth since they first returned from Section One. In fact, the last significant discussion they had was after he broke down in the kitchen. They had a great deal to talk about, but there never seemed to be the right moment. Yet.

He smiled faintly, reminding himself that this cool woman with the occasionally all-too-abrasive personality was a blood relative. As close as he would ever come to real family. Though his mind rebelled at that thought. In every way that counted, his real family was, and had been, here all along. Maddy. Michael. Nikita. Then Sey. And his beloved Emmy. Oh, and that rascal Sasha, who showed signs of trying to emulate Declan.

"Why are you here?"

"Dav sent me." She sounded sulky, like a petulant child who has railed often and long at the way of the world, and now, unable to rearrange things to her ultimate satisfaction, is unhappy.

"Why are you here?"

She looked startled. "I need to work on...our relationship."

"Why...are you...here?"

Tears spilled from her beautiful soft grey eyes, so like Declan’s own. "Cause he’s the first person I’ve ever loved. Besides myself. And I don’t want to...lose him."

Declan considered that. Personally, he thought that Davenport would sooner cut off a limb than leave his sister. But there was pain there. Between them.

His voice casual and matter-of-fact, he asked, "I thought you two were going to get married."

Cassidy stared at Declan. "So did I," she choked out.

"Then you’re not?" he asked cautiously.

"Declan..." Cassidy leaned forward, almost touching his knees with her hands, which were anxiously fluttering. Very unlike a calm, collected Section field op. Very unlike Cassidy herself. "Help me."

"How?"

Momentarily lost for words, Cassidy quickly regained her train of thought. Raking a hand through her chestnut-brown hair, she said shakily, "When you first left Section, did you feel this overwhelming sense of awe? At the vastness of the world outside?"

He nodded. "Being in Section always made me feel...I dunno...claustrophobic."

"Aye, closed in. The very word." She did touch him then. Declan glanced down, as if mildly surprised to see her hand on his knee. "Did it scare you, being outside, I mean?"

Declan couldn’t imagine anything scaring the woman in front of him. Or her admitting that something did. "Scared? No. I think I felt bloody relieved."

Cassidy flushed, and Declan realized that he might have said the wrong thing. It was the truth. For him. But maybe she needed someone to validate what she felt. And what she felt was clearly not relief.

Of course, Declan, unlike Cassidy, had been raised in the normal way. In that sense, it didn’t matter that that family was terribly dysfunctional. It was still a family. Cassidy literally had no frame of reference. Raised on her own, left to fend for herself, there were no alliances. In the world she lived in, no one belonged to anyone else. That she had dared to let herself become so close to Davenport astonished Declan.

"At Section, there were...things I was expected to do... I knew how to act. There were people who taught me that. Declan..." Cassidy sounded positively tortured by this.

"Aye, real life doesn’t have that kind of structure. You’ve got choices. And they’re yours to make."

She became almost breathless with anxiety. "What if I make the wrong one? What if I make a mistake? What if--?"

Cassidy? The perfect operative? Afraid of making a mistake? Declan smiled. Cassidy wanted to hit him. "Why are you smiling? There’s nothing funny about this!"

"Cara, eistigi liom." Take it easy, friend.

Cassidy’s face crumpled. "You don’t have the answers? Or you do, but you won’t tell me? Why should you tell me? I’m just--"

Declan pulled Cassidy out of her chair and into his arms, settling her considerable length on his lap. She struggled briefly, but her emotional state was so fragile, she gave in, eventually clinging helplessly to Declan. "Ssh, ssh, you’re not alone anymore, sweetheart. You’ve got Dav, and you’ve got me, and..."

She sniffled against his neck. "But why do I feel this way, Declan? You didn’t."

He pressed a kiss to her hair. "You’re in love, Derry. Didn’t you know that?"

"Yes," she quavered. "But so are you. How come you don’t--?"

"Derry, as horrible as my life before Section was, at least I had one. You didn’t. There’s no book that tells you how to behave when you come into the world. There’s no right or wrong way to live your life. Unless you’re evil. And you could never be that."

"But how did you and Birkoff work it out?"

Declan searched for the right words. "I didn’t meet Sey until I was out of Section two years, Derry. And like I said, by then, I knew what I wanted out of the life God finally let me have. Even so, our lives haven’t been easy."

"Didn’t you worry that you might be making a mistake?"

Declan shook his head. "That’s the one thing I was never uncertain of, Derry. How much I loved Sey." He pushed her hair back from her forehead, as if she were Emmy. "If you’re not sure you love Dav that way, then don’t marry him. But if you do...how can you do anything else?"

"Are you saying I’m worried for nothing then?"

He kissed her cheek. "I’m saying, if you love him that much, the rest will fall into place. Somehow."

"So I should set a date for the wedding?"

"Are you asking me or inviting me?" Declan chuckled.

Cassidy smiled tremulously for the first time since she had come into Declan’s room. "Inviting you. There’s going to be a wedding."

"Good. I’ll tell Sey to rent a tux."

She laughed. "What about the house?"

"As in a place to live?"

She nodded.

"Pick one. What’s the worst that can happen, Derry? If you decide you don’t like it, you don’t have to live there forever. You know, I see your problem now."

"You do?"

"Aye. You think every step you take is irrevocable. It’s not. Nothing is forever, Derry." A moment later, he smiled, correcting himself. "Except, of course, for love."

She hugged him as tightly as she could. "Oh, Declan, thank you. I feel like you’ve given me back my life."

Declan sighed happily. "I didn’t do that, Derry. You did."

She released him and stood up, smoothing her hands over her jeans-clad thighs. "Oh, and Declan?"

An enigmatic smile crossed her lips, and Declan thought for a moment, she looks just like Emmy when she’s trying to keep a secret. In vain.

"You’re going to be an uncle."

"I already am, love, several times over."

"No, I mean..." She reached for his hand and placed it over her barely-curved abdomen. "I’m pregnant."

Declan jumped up and threw his arms around her, taking care to be especially gentle. "Derry, that’s wonderful!"

She took a deep breath and exhaled. Doubt. Fear. Anxiety. Floated away. "Yes, it is, isn’t it? Quite wonderful."

Declan fell asleep in the recliner, waiting for Sey. The television blared on, though no one was listening. Declan’s hectic class schedule often left him tired and worn-out. But he always waited for Sey to close up the bookstore and come home to him and the kids. Sometimes he went to the bookstore and helped Sey close the store, especially if he was missing him as much as he was today. But sometimes, fatigue got the better of him, like now, and he couldn’t keep himself from succumbing to exhaustion.

A small hand touched Declan’s arm with no visible response. Declan’s head fell back, his mouth slightly open, as he snored softly. Sasha climbed up onto the recliner, making a space for himself in Declan’s lap. For a few moments, he was content to watch Declan sleep. Then he yawned and snuggled under his arm, pressing his face against Declan’s chest. Evidently, his Da didn’t make a bad pillow because very soon, Sasha joined him in slumber.

***

When Birkoff came home, it wasn’t all that late. It was almost 10:30 PM. The sight that greeted him warmed his heart considerably. His son asleep in Declan’s arms. He took off his jacket, laying it across the chair that always sat in front of the computer. Removing his boots, he padded across the room quietly until he stood next to the recliner.

Suddenly aware that he was smiling broadly, he reached out and touched his son’s hair. "You need a haircut, kiddo."

Sasha abruptly woke at the sound of Sey’s voice, rubbing his eyes with both hands as he yawned.

"Hi, Dad," Sasha said, smiling sleepily.

"Time for bed, kiddo." But the gentle look he gave his son more than took the sting out of those words.

"Can I stay up just a little longer?"

"Why?" Usually, Declan was the disciplinarian and Sey the pushover. But something told Birkoff to ask for a reason. As it turned out, he was glad he did.

"I got something I wanna ask Da."

That surprised Birkoff. "Can’t you ask me?"

"Nope." Sasha grinned cheekily at his father.

"Why not?"

"Cause I already know what you’d say. I need to know what *he* says."

"About what?" Now Sey was almost painfully curious. The workings of his son’s mind could be very mysterious, even for someone as gifted as Birkoff.

"You’ll see." Sasha’s dark eyes danced. "Can I wake him?" Sasha asked eagerly.

Unable to resist those eyes, now the color of a Hershey’s kiss, Birkoff nodded.

"Yay!" Sasha shook Declan, none too gently, and Declan’s eyes suddenly flew open, his gaze all hot and silvery.

Birkoff couldn’t help but say, "Must’ve been some dream. You look...ahem...happy." With his son present, Birkoff instantly translated what he wanted to say into a subtle message only Declan would understand.

Declan reached for Sey and kissed him, a little more intensely than he might have, if he’d been aware of Sasha’s presence. "Happy to see *you*, you mean."

"Mmm...Sasha has a question, love."

Declan recovered quickly. "Sure, sprite. What’s up?"

All at once Sasha looked uncharacteristically shy. "I was just wondering..."

Declan peered closer at Sasha’s face, waiting for him to elaborate further. "Wondering what?"

"Um...well, how would you feel if I was, like, your real son?"

Birkoff didn’t look particularly surprised by the question, as if he’d been anticipating something along these lines. But it took Declan aback, even though he hid it quite well. "Well, kiddo..."

It was obvious that Sasha was hanging on Declan’s every syllable. At this point, so was Birkoff, who seemed to be holding his breath. "I thought you were."

Birkoff and Sasha double-teamed Declan, each one kissing a cheek. But while Sasha pulled Declan’s hair playfully, Sey indulged himself by licking Declan’s ear. Declan’s eyes flashed as he whispered, "And I’ll settle with you later, acushla."

Sasha interrupted the two of them, something else clearly on his mind. "Can I ask you another question?"

"Sure, go ahead."

"Nah, you’ll prolly just think it’s dumb."

"I won’t think it’s dumb," Declan asserted.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Sasha looked thoughtful, as if he were weighing each word. "When Mr. Elliott came, he asked me my name, and I told him it was Sasha Birkoff."

Declan nodded. "Aye, that’s your name."

"But...well, Emmy’s name is Birkoff-McLaren. How come?"

Declan tried to think of how to respond without making Sasha feel second-best. "Well, kiddo, it was--"

Birkoff intervened before Declan could finish his sentence. "It had nothing to do with Emmy. It had to do with me."

Sasha looked puzzled. "What do you mean?"

How much detail did he need to go into? "It’s like when people get married, they take the same name. That kind of thing."

"Ohhh..." Sasha nodded. "So when you and Da got married, you changed your name?"

"Not exactly." Sey looked almost confused now. He was definitely lost. Declan took pity on him.

"Sasha, what did you really want to know?"

"If you would let me be a McLaren, too. Like Emmy. So I could be your real little boy." Sasha waited anxiously for Declan’s decision.

Birkoff sighed. Declan glanced at him, a heartfelt look that seemed to say, Overachiever. Never give them more than they really want to know.

Declan put the boy, and his father, come to think of it, out of their respective misery. "I don’t see why not."

"That’s great! I can hardly wait to tell Emmy! Wait till she hears that I’m her brother for real!" Sasha leaped off Declan’s lap in an explosion of sound and fury, almost tumbling his way to the door.

Birkoff stared bemusedly after his son. "I hope you’re headed for bed now, Mr. Birkoff-McLaren."

"Okay, Dad. G’nite, Da!" Sasha then vanished with a wave.

***

"You know what I’m thinking, Dec?" Birkoff had taken his son’s place on Declan’s lap. Declan’s arms were wrapped around his waist, probably the only thing that kept Birkoff from falling off the recliner. Declan patted Sey’s backside affectionately and said, "Sey, I never know exactly what you’re thinking, sweetie."

"I was just thinking that...no, this is gonna sound so dumb."

"Now you sound like Sasha. You’ve got at least twenty years on that boy. I expect a coherent sentence out of you."

Birkoff brightened. "Well..." He played with a strand of Declan’s hair. "What would you think about...adopting Sasha?"

"I’d love to, Sey, but legally...we don’t exist. Section saw to that," he said, with more than a trace of bitterness.

Birkoff pondered. "Then how about we hold a...I don’t know...a naming ceremony? We could officially announce that Sasha belongs to both of us."

Declan nodded, warming to the idea immediately. "I like it, Sey. Would be a nice way to welcome him into the family, wouldn’t it?"

"I’ll bet if you asked him, he’d tell you something else, too, Sey."

"What?"

"That he doesn’t want his name to be Alexander. That was the name Operations gave him. He wants to be called Sasha. Cause it’s the name *he* chose."

"We could add that, Dec. Officially declare him Sasha."

Declan nodded. "And Sey? You might want to think of another name. One you could give him as a middle name. As if he’d just been born and you named him."

Birkoff’s face was suddenly transformed by the utterly blissful smile he wore. "I don’t want it to be about me, Dec, I want it to be about him. But if I could name him, like he’d been born the usual way..."

Declan rolled his eyes. "If he’d been born the usual way, one of us would have a wife, Sey. Are you offering yourself the role or are you wishing it on me?"

Birkoff giggled. "I think you know the answer to that, Dec."

Declan’s eyes flashed again, this time hot with need. "Indeed I do." Declan kissed Sey, savoring his response. Sey had the most disconcerting habit of trembling in his arms.

"Come here, wife," he whispered huskily.

First there was the kiss. Then there was the gentle touch on the shoulder. Finally there was the hushed whisper. He couldn’t quite make out all the words. But that didn’t matter. Because in another second or two, it would be repeated. Much louder.

"Five minutes," he mumbled.

"You don’t have five minutes," the voice said. "You stayed up too late last night. You have a class in...an hour. Can you shower, get dressed, eat, and drive to the campus in...an hour?"

"Who are you? My conscience?"

"Hmm...more like the voice of reason."

"Tell me you love me."

"Mmm...I love you." Another soft kiss.

"You can’t be the voice of reason. Kiss me again. I’m getting warmer."

"If I kiss you again, you’ll never get out of bed."

Declan opened one eye. "Can you write me a late note, baby?"

"Only if you promise to adopt me, too, love."

Declan rolled over onto his back, taking half the sheets with him. He was damned reluctant to get out of bed. "I don’t suppose great sex counts as a legitimate reason to cut school."

Birkoff laughed. "Mmm..." he murmured as he leaned over and kissed Declan. "I don’t think anyone else would think so, but you’re convincing me."

Declan groaned as he realized that Sey was fully dressed. "Damn, you’ve got entirely too much clothing on." Declan started tugging at Sey’s shirt impatiently. "Aw, to hell with it, I’m already late."

"What’ll your students think when you don’t show up?"

Declan looked nonplussed for a moment, then smiled. "I’ll tell ‘em I was communing with my muse. Come here, muse."

"Declan...if you don’t show up for class, what’s the department head going to think?"

Declan grimaced, pulling his pillow over his face. "Oh, bloody hell," came the muffled reply.

Birkoff kissed him one more time, then stood up. Trailing a hand lovingly through Declan’s long red hair, he said, "Playing hooky is for kids like Sasha, sweetie. You’ll thank me later."

Declan poked his head out from behind the pillow and stared sleepily at his lover. "I hate you. How can you be so perky on four hours sleep?"

"Good genes?" Birkoff shrugged. When Declan reached out to swat him, he moved too quickly to be caught. "Ah, ah, ah..." he said with a warning wag of his finger.

"When are you going to work, baby?" Declan lay on his side, looking for all the world like Emmy wanting to snuggle.

"Did you hear a single word I said?"

"I heard you. I’m ignoring you. Bring me a cup of tea, baby. Lots of sugar. I don’t need to eat."

Birkoff, against his better judgment, sat down again on the bed, well within range of Declan’s arms. "You’re going to skip breakfast?"

Declan’s hand crept along the inside of Sey’s thigh, but Sey trapped his hand before it reached its inevitable destination. Declan looked like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "Please?" Declan entreated.

Birkoff laughed.

Declan’s eyes narrowed. "Being a grown-up doesn’t suit you, Sey."

"We can’t play all the time, Dec."

Declan pouted, his full lower lip thrust out just like Sasha. "I’ll remember this, next time you want something."

Birkoff leaned down and kissed Declan, this time more intensely. Declan responded by pulling on his hair, twining the long dark strands around a finger. Birkoff nudged his mouth open with his tongue, and for several moments, they did nothing but kiss. Long, hot, lingering kisses that invaded each other’s space.

When Sey broke off contact with Declan’s mouth, Declan looked bereft, as if he couldn’t bear being parted from him. "I’ll go get your tea," Sey said softly.

Declan punched the pillow, eventually burying his face in it. Wrapping his arms around the pillow, Declan peered surreptitiously at his lover, who was now standing over him. "You’re really cracking that whip today, Sey."

Birkoff regarded him with a mysterious smile. He left their bedroom, but within a couple of minutes, he returned, two cups of tea in hand. Handing one to Declan, he sipped slowly at the other one.

A couple of minutes passed in complete silence. When Declan finally finished his tea, he handed the cup back to Birkoff, who placed both cups on the bedside table. Declan flung the sheets back, revealing a firm young body that seemed none the worse for wear from its late night. Just as Declan reached a sitting position, Sey pushed him back onto the bed, his long, slender fingers caressing his chest.

"Now what are you doing?" Declan asked, somewhat crossly.

Sey whispered something in Declan’s ear, and Declan chuckled. Skipping breakfast suddenly seemed like an inspired idea. His arms slipping lower on Sey’s back, pulling his shirt out of his pants, Declan sighed happily. "Admit it, Sey, I’m bloody irresistible."

"Mmm...I admit nothing," he whispered, his lips grazing Declan’s ear. "But anything you touch is yours to keep. Forever."

They were late. Of course. They showered together, ostensibly to save time, but that, in the end, only made them later. Declan grabbed Walter’s Harley and swung his long, lean legs over the seat. He kick-started the bike and revved the engine loudly. A moment later, a figure appeared. "Hey, where are you going with my baby?"

"Sorry, Walter. I thought you wouldn’t mind. I’m running so late, you couldn’t imagine."

"I don’t mind, Declan. But I like to be asked first. And judging from the way your hair is sopping wet, I’d say this is the latest you’ve ever been."

Declan turned off the ignition. "I’m sorry, Walter. Really. I’ll take my car. If Sey hasn’t already left."

"Nah, it’s okay, Declan." A lascivious grin etched his time-worn face. Blue eyes twinkling, he said, "I hear we’re planning another wedding. Your sister and Davenport."

Suddenly Declan’s mouth dropped open. Walter looked momentarily confused. "What? You didn’t know? I--"

"No, no, it’s not that. Christ! I was supposed to call someone about the flowers!" Declan swore under his breath. At himself.

"Well, I mean, we got time, don’t we?"

Declan shook his head, and his wet curls went flying back and forth, a sodden mass of hair. "Not as much as you think."

"What does that mean?"

"Sorry, gotta go." Declan smiled and restarted the engine, thrusting his body forward to move the bike down the driveway.

He was halfway to the street when he heard a voice behind him. Shouting. "Wait for me!"

He brought the bike to a stop and turned to look over his shoulder. "Acushla! You’ve already made me so late, I’m afraid I’ll never get to school!"

Birkoff ran the rest of the way and blithely hopped onto the back of the motorcycle. Breathless, he said, "In the first place, *you* made us late. In the second place, you owe me for this morning. And don’t think I’m not keeping track, cause I am."

"You beast," Declan said without a hint of animosity.

"And you love me," Birkoff returned confidently.

"Always, baby." The look Declan gave Sey was so tender, it was only a breath away from a kiss.

"Turn around, I’ll braid your hair for you. Otherwise, it’s going to dry a frizzy mess."

"Can you braid while I drive?"

"Of course. As long as you don’t make any sudden stops or turns."

Declan kissed Sey on the nose. "I won’t. I don’t want to lose you."

"On second thought, how long would it take you to braid my hair now? I don’t want to take any chances."

Birkoff stared at him, enraptured by those silver-grey eyes he loved more than his own. "Just a minute or two."

Declan turned his back on Birkoff, but he could feel him. His fingers touching his hair, pulling gently on the long, wet strands. Suddenly he was no longer impatient to get to school. He hoped Sey took his time. He closed his eyes and savored his touch.

Of course, he had another motive for wanting Sey to braid his hair now. It was because he loved the way Sey wrapped his arms around him, when he rode pillion. Declan’s mouth curved into a slight grin as he grew more than a little preoccupied with the feel of Sey’s hands in his hair. Sey kissed the back of Declan’s neck when he was done.

Declan shivered, muttering under his breath. "What did you say, Dec?"

Declan grabbed Sey’s hands and wrapped them around his waist. Sey lay his head against Declan’s back, content to steal a few extra minutes with him before work.

"I said, I’m a sucker for sentiment, I guess."

"Mmm...well, I think you’re a romantic at heart, Declan," Sey said, his voice muffled against Declan’s jacket.

Declan revved the engine and pulled into the street at long last. "If I am, it’s cause of you, baby."

***

"Derry," Davenport called to his beloved, rapping his knuckles on the bathroom door. "Are you all right, honey?"

He heard her cough, several times in succession. "Darlin’? Did you hear me?"

She flung open the door, her face contorted either by pain or disgust. "Dammit, Jake! I’m throwing up! Okay?"

She promptly burst into tears, and Davenport pulled her into his waiting arms, only too happy to hold her, no matter what the reason. "Ssh, ssh, Derry."

Clinging to Davenport’s embrace, Cassidy’s tears soaked the front of his shirt. "I’m trying to be brave, Jake, but I’m so scared. I don’t know anything about being a mother. How am I going to get through this?"

"First, I’m taking you to see Neil. He’s a doctor, Derry. He’ll know what to do. He deals with this sort of thing all the time."

She nodded.

***

But Neil was having his own problems. With a recalcitrant Maddy. Neil knocked on the bedroom door again. "Maddy, are you coming out or not?"

"No! I’m not coming out! Not today! Not tomorrow!"

"Maddy..." Neil sighed. He loved her desperately, though in the past, he had sometimes asked himself why. But he had to admit, since she had begun therapy, Madeline was much...well...nicer to be around.

Except, of course, for today. Today Madeline threw up her breakfast, what little she had managed to consume, but she refused to let him examine her. "It’s probably just a touch of flu, sweetheart. Please, let me in."

"No," she sobbed against the other side of the door. Wanting to be with Neil. Wanting him to hold her. Wanting him to make everything all better, as Connor was fond of saying.

"But tell me why, Maddy. At least, tell me why," Neil pleaded.

Abruptly the door flew open. "I don’t think it’s the flu, Neil," she wept into her hands.

Neil pulled her into his arms, anxious to comfort her any way he could. "Oh, Maddy, what’s wrong?"

She wrapped her arms around his neck, struggling to keep her swollen, red-rimmed eyes from crying anymore. Wiping at her cheek, she looked into Neil’s worried face. "Oh, Neil...I think I’m pregnant again."