No Regrets, Just Love (The Hammel Babyverse)

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Pigs, Sheep, and Wolves

The world is composed of facts, little bits of information that individually are quite meaningless but taken collectively have meaning or lead to a predictable end result.

Fact 1: Sean liked Halloween. He had a notorious sweet tooth, and he liked children.

Fact 2: Josh and Sean had thirty-four years’ worth of history and inside jokes.

Fact 3: Josh liked to play dress up.

Fact 4: Sean’s nephew Ryan lived at home and had no bills of his own, but he also had a job, resulting in more disposable income than he knew what to do with, and which he turned into gift cards that he sent to his Uncle “for the baby.”

Those facts known, the end result should have been apparent.

Josh had been sent out on errands; Sean had chosen to remain at home and tend to paperwork that had been lagging recently. With the baby, he couldn’t keep his long hours at Hammel, which meant he had more paperwork at home; although paperwork while playing with the baby was preferable to paperwork in his office at work.

Josh was still working on earning his driver’s license, and in the interim had upgraded to a larger bicycle with a seat for the baby. He had taken Eleanor with him because Sean had told him to. The telepath loved the baby more than anything save Josh, but he spent more time with her than Josh did; he felt it important that they bond. Besides, she needed a change of scenery and Sean needed to finish writing up his notes about Horus Richmond’s latest session.

And Sean had cured her of her crying problem when they were separated. Josh didn’t know how he’d managed to do this but he remained grateful.

Which was why he had wanted to do something special in honor of the upcoming holiday. Parking his bicycle in the garage, he took the baby in one arm and the bag of purchases in the other, with the dry cleaning hanging precariously from the arm holding the bag. Sean? We’re home.

In the study.

Josh took the baby, the bag, and the dry cleaning upstairs. There was a brief stop in the master bedroom to hang the dry cleaning – he and Sean could sort out whose ties and shirts and jackets were whose later – and to drop off the two prescriptions from the bag. Then another stop in the nursery since the remaining purchases were for the baby.

Still holding their daughter, he entered Sean’s study and smiled. “What do you think?”

The telepath didn’t look up from the picture he had been scrutinizing for symbolism; Horus remained on an art therapy regimen. “What do I think of what?”

“Of your cub.”

The telepath lifted his head and then raised an eyebrow. “I see that I’ll have to take shopping off the pre-approved list of chores.”

Josh frowned slightly; he wouldn’t call it a pout although nearly anyone else would. “The clerk said she looked adorable.”

“She always looks adorable.” The telepath set the picture down and raised his arms. Josh crossed the room and handed Eleanor over to him. She immediately latched onto the older man, furry mitten-clad “paws” clutching at his shirt, furry ears nuzzled into his neck. He leaned down to kiss her nose, which wasn’t covered in brown cloth. “I see your Papa is trying to recruit you into our deviant lifestyle. What would Maggie Gallagher say?”

“She should approve. We’re a middle-class couple with a child and professional jobs.”

“With two Y-chromosomes between us, instead of one.” Sean lifted his head to look up at his partner. “And we’re living in sin.”

“If you want to dedicate our marriage to Maggie Gallagher, I’ll warm up your car. We can get to City Hall before it closes.” The attorney’s eyes gleamed with mischief, which caused the telepath to chuckle.

But then the anxiety took over and Josh changed subjects back to the original one. “Do you not like it? I’m not sure if I can return it since it’s open and she-”

“I wouldn’t ask you to exchange it. She needs a Halloween costume anyway.” Eleanor began to suckle on the collar of Sean’s shirt, since that was within range of her mouth. “And so do I.”

“You could wear your bear shirt,” Josh suggested helpfully. “That way you would match.”

“I thought we agreed that you don’t suggest I wear that outside of the house in exchange for me never mentioning your gold jacket to your friends.” The telepath smiled at him and quirked an eyebrow challengingly. “And besides, I’m fairly sure that when I wear that shirt, you’re my cub.”

That caused the attorney to blush. “I, ahh, I guess you’re right. It wouldn’t be an appropriate costume.”

“I didn’t think so.”

Eleanor began to drool on Sean’s shirt, causing a warm damp spot. The telepath shifted her in his arms, away from which shirt, which caused her to look up at him with bright blue eyes. “I’m not putting you down,” he assured her. “I simply don’t want spittle on my chest.”

Occasionally, Josh wondered if the other man could read their daughter’s thoughts despite her lack of language skills, or if he merely had a knack for guessing her moods and behaviors. He never asked.

“I suppose I could go for the old standby of a cape and fangs. I’m sure I have those in the attic already,” Sean remarked, still focused on the matter of costumes.

“If you’re Dracula, does that mean you expect me to be Mina Harker?”

“You could be Jonathan.”

“So you could lock me in the house and have three people seduce me in an effort to wear down my resolve? No thank you. I don’t even know where you’d get three volunteers.”

“Danny, Griff, and Riley are available.”

The inclusion of Riley made this a safe topic; Sean had never had a relationship with Riley. The attorney rolled his eyes. “I can’t imagine any of them biting someone, by request or not.”

Sean said nothing on that topic. Instead he suggested, “You could be Quincey. Cowboy costumes are easy to coordinate.”

“So you want me to kill you?”

“We can rewrite it. Instead of killing Dracula, Quincey found himself deeply in love with the Creature of the Night, and the power of their love was enough to prevent Dracula from ever needing to bite another human being again. Then they lived happily ever after in their transplanted castle.”

Josh scoffed. “That’s a terrible ending for a book.”

“Well, I wouldn’t dream of suggesting that you go as Renfield.” For a host of reasons, beginning with the telepath’s aversion to eroticizing or making light of any patient in a psychiatric facility, no matter the circumstances surrounding their committal and ending with the fact that the man ate bugs and that was hardly flattering to his lover. “So I suppose we’re back to Jonathan.”

“Is your heart set on Dracula?”

The telepath shook his head. “Not at all. It would be easy to put together, but I’d rather coordinate if you’re interested.”

“We could go as Dionysus and Athena,” Josh proposed after a moment of thought. That wouldn’t be too difficult.

“I assume you want to be Athena,” Sean replied, reached up to rub Eleanor’s back, which caused her to coo happily. “I can’t imagine anyone would want to see me drunk and in a toga.”

Josh cleared his throat.

“Anyone who isn’t you.”

Josh disagreed. While he was long-used to his partner’s self-deprecating remarks, and it was a frequent theme in their banter, he had difficulty accepting the notion that other people wouldn’t want to see him showing a bit of skin. That caused a brief flare of insecurity that the attorney squelched. Josh knew it was irrational; not only the telepath never failed to demonstrate his affection, through words and deeds, but they had a baby together. They were a family.

Not wanting to focus on his insecurities, he instead asked, “So my interest isn’t enough for you?”

The telepath rolled his eyes affectionately. “Not enough to make me leave the house in a toga.”

They both became thoughtful, contemplating available options. Finally, Sean suggested, “What about Robin Hood?”

“I don’t want to be Maid Marian.”

“You can be Robin Hood. I’ll be Little John.”

The attorney had to admit that it was feasible. The costumes wouldn’t be too difficult to procure, they were recognizable, they had a theme that wasn’t unpalatable, and they would be dressed appropriately. Besides, Robin Hood was a man of the people! “I think that would work,” he said with a smile.

Sean returned his smile and nodded in agreement. “Good. And since we have a plan, I’m sure you wouldn’t object to helping me buy them.”

“That’s fine. Do you want to go out now?”

The telepath shook his head and gestured with his free hand at the drawing on his desk. “I still have some work to do. We can go tomorrow.”

“Do you want me to take her?” Josh stepped forward, offering his hands.

Sean handed her over to his partner. Eleanor turned to make a final grab for Sean before she adjusted to being with Josh again. She didn’t clutch at him the way she did with her Daddy but she did immediately lean her head on his shoulder.

“And please change her back into her blue onesie.” He held up his hand when Josh began to protest. “We can take pictures of her later and humiliate her in front of her friends in fifteen years. But she can’t be comfortable right now.”

Josh sighed in acceptance. “All right. Do you need anything?”

Sean shook his head, since he was fine. “I just need another half hour or so to finish this. I’ll come in and play after. Scout’s honor.”

The attorney leaned down to press a brief kiss to the other man’s lips. “I’ll hold you to that.”

[Chase Campbell]

"Warning: This story contains the word masturbation in the least sexy way possible." - Credit: Tony

I Think It’s Time We Had That Talk

“Rhys! Would you stop and listen to me?”

“I didn’t DO anything!”

“Like hell you didn’t. I want you to call and apologize.”

“No way!”

“… You know what? You’re grounded, Kid. You’re gonna go to your room and think about what you did.”

James watched the exchange in silence, lips pursed slightly. He wanted for the tell-tale slam of the door before approaching his husband.

“What did he do this time?” Chase flopped on the couch, obviously spent. James arched an eyebrow. “You went to the mall. How much trouble could he have possibly gotten in to?”

“He ran into Danielle and Eleanor.”

“Ah.” There really didn’t need to be much more explanation that that. Chase draped his arm across his face. “… What?”

“They were in the underwear section.”

James honestly didn’t want to hear the rest of it. He sighed and leaned back, one arm curling around his husband. Sometimes he just didn’t know what to do with Rhys. This was one of those times. The boy needed to learn respect, especially when it came to girls. The trouble was, he knew he wasn’t a bad kid. Just… unruly.

James got an idea. He smiled and pressed a kiss to Chase’s temple. “Love?”

“Yeah?”

“Remember that talk you had with Nikki when he was a teenager?” The color that flushed the trainer’s cheeks was enough. He smiled. “I think it’s about time Rhys had that talk.” The look that earned him made him bite back a grin. “I’m not saying you have to do it.”

“You’re going to?”

“No.”

“Then what? Call Sean?”

“No.” The little smirk on James’ face had Chase admittedly a bit worried. “We’re going to play for it.” The trainer should have known. It was exactly how they’d decided who got what honors, particularly when Rhys was still a baby.

And it was entirely unfair. James wasn’t telepathic, but he could always tell what he had to do to win.

“Fine,” the blond relented. “Let’s get this over with so I can lose, and go humiliate myself again.” James studied his husband for a moment before counting down.

“Three, two, one.” He had paper. Chase, predictably, chose rock.

“Goddammit.”

“Do you want me to go this time, love?”

“Would you?” James smiled and kissed his husband.

“All right. But if he has any specific questions pertaining to women, he’s all yours.”

“Yeah. Thanks.” James smiled and gave his husband’s hair a gentle kiss before getting to his feet. He knocked on Rhys’ door, ignoring the fact that he could hear the kid’s iPod blaring from the dock.

“Rhys, let me in.” Inside, the boy knew better than to disobey. Rather than be on both of his fathers’ bad sides, he got up and slunk over to the door, twisting the knob just enough to open it before retreating back to his bed, where he pulled his pillow to his chest. James entered, appraising his son’s defensive pose before turning off the iPod. “I think we need to talk.”

“Dad told you what I did,” Rhys mumbled, looking sullen.

“He did. But that’s not all I want to talk about.” James settled down on the desk chair, looking serious. “Rhys, what you did was extremely rude.” He hadn’t needed specifics to know it was true. He knew his son, and he could fill in the blanks. “But it also made me realize something.” Rhys just braced himself for the berating he was expecting.

“What’s that?”

“You’ve had the basic sex talk in school, haven’t you? I signed a paper for it last year.” Rhys paused in his cringing long enough to let that sink in. It didn’t take long. His eyes widened and he lifted his head from its’ place on the pillow.

“Are we having the talk? Now?” His voice cracked slightly. James smiled, but it was clear he wasn’t amused.

“Better now than later.”

“Can we… y’know… not?” James fixed him with a gaze that could only be explained as the ‘Dad Look.’ Apparently that wasn’t an option.

“My parents had me when they were sixteen. I had Ginny when I was twenty two. Campbells don’t have a good track record.” Rhys rolled his eyes.

“I know about safe sex,” he grumbled.

“You’re aware you’ll get this talk when you’re older, right? From Dr. Neville.” Rhys hadn’t been expecting that. He looked up in slight horror.

“Dr. N does this too?” So why were they doing it now?

“Yes. He’s actually a medical doctor. Honestly, it’s better if you get this from me now.” James paused then, a tiny smile on his face. “Of course, I’d understand if you wanted to talk to Chase. Seeing as he likes women.”

“You did like women,” Rhys pointed out. “You had Ginny.”

“No,” James corrected. “I knew I was gay then, but I didn’t want to acknowledge it. I was in denial.”

“Oh.” Rhys looked somewhat disappointed that his logic had been shot down. James actually gave him a small smile out of pity before continuing.

“I never got the talk when I was little.” Rhys took the opportunity to once again point out something.

“And I got it at school. I know about safe sex.” It was dawning on him that suffering through this might be his punishment for being a jerk at the mall. “Please stop.”

“No. Not unless you want to talk to Chase instead.” Considering he was most definitely in Chase’s bad books, Rhys wasn’t so sure that was a safer option. Resigning himself to his fate, he leaned back on the bed and pulled the pillow tighter to his chest.

“Fine. What are you going to tell me?”

“You know the basic mechanics, correct?”

“Yes, Dad.”

“And you know what kind of controls we have installed on the computer.” That caused a dark blush to creep up on the twelve year old’s cheeks. He didn’t answer, so James continued. “I know this because I get emails when you try to get around them.” Rhys still didn’t say anything. “It’s more for the computer than anything else. It’s healthy to be curious, and we can find safe sites for you.” Finally, Rhys managed to work up a defense.

“It was Nikki, not me. And I’m not curious. I don’t want to see.” It was a poor defense, throwing his older brother into the fire. And it wasn’t one that was going to stick.

“Nikki knows which sites won’t give the computer a virus. You can talk to him about it if you’d like.” Rhys just looked dejected, his clever defense lying in ruins.

“Are we done yet?”

“And it’s normal to want to look at porn.” Rhys looked horrified, but it didn’t stop James. “At your age, I’d prefer you being exposed to that, than to you doing anything with girls. … Or boys.” The boy looked thoughtful at that. His gears were turning now.

“Was that permission to look at pornos?” James gave him another look, but he couldn’t backtrack. Rhys was too smart for his own good sometimes.

“I suppose that was, yes.”

“Sweet.” James held up his hands, attempting to keep control on the conversation.

“I’m not saying I’m encouraging it. I’m saying you’re old enough to be curious, and there was ways to access it without getting the computer full of spyware.” Now the conversation had moved from being so awkward, Rhys looked thoughtful.

“Nikki said porn isn’t like real sex, though.” From what his brother had described, it was lots of moaning and dirty talk. James had to smile there.

“No. He’s right. It isn’t.”

“Then… what’s the point of watching it?” James mulled over his answer to that one before speaking.

“Because sometimes masturbation is enjoyable.” Again, Rhys’ eyes widened, and this time he spluttered and blushed, breaking eye contact.

“DAD! I don’t want to talk about that!” His father appeared unruffled by the outburst.

“It’s true, and I know that you know it.”

“Dad, seriously. Stop. I’ll give you a hundred dollars to stop.”

“You don’t have a hundred dollars. What should we cover next?”

“Nothing! We’re done. Please be done.” Whatever interest had been generated was long gone now. Rhys just wanted to crawl under his comforter and die. James, however, wasn’t done.

“I’m sure you’ve started noticing the girls in your classes.”

“… Maybe.” Maybe being aloof about the whole thing would deter his father.

“Do I have to keep saying ‘or boys’ to be inclusive? I know you’re not interested in guys.”

“No. Stop saying it.” James was smirking now. “… What?”

“I was just thinking about your brother. He sat us down and said ‘Dads. I’m straight.’ Like he was coming out of the closet.” Despite his desire to remove himself from the conversation, Rhys had to snicker.

“Niko’s a dork.”

“It was funny,” James admitted. “But I want you to listen to me, Rhys. I know you’re a little young to be thinking about a sexual relationship with someone. I just want you to know that I’d rather you came to us and make good choices than hide things. And you can always come to us if you need to.”

“I know,” Rhys said quietly.

“I don’t know much about girls, but both Chase and I will be here for you when you need us, all right?” He smiled and stood up, clasping his hand on his son’s shoulder. “And always use a condom.” Rhys blushed scarlet, swatting his father’s hand. James just smiled and moved his hand up to ruffle Rhys’ hair. “Even if you don’t think what you’re doing can get someone pregnant. Kids are wonderful, but you want to plan for them.”

“Yeah. I got that. Thanks.” James stepped away, and for a moment Rhys thought he was home free. If that was the case, he would almost have to be thankful.

“Rhys?”

“Yeah?”

“If I ever hear that you’ve said something to Eleanor or Danielle about their underwear again, you will be grounded for a month, and doing all the dishes.” Rhys’ jaw dropped.

“That’s not fair!”

“It’s called sexual harassment, Rhys.”

“It is not! It’s just teasing!” Sexual harassment made it sound so… serious.

“It is, and it bothers her. And it bothers me that you’d be so inconsiderate.”

“I didn’t mean to bug her…”

“Of course you do. I do things to bug your father all the time.” Rhys was getting flustered. No. It wasn’t like that.

“It’s not to be mean to her.”

“No,” James said knowingly. “It’s a misguided attempt to flirt with her.”

“Says who?” The way Rhys was holding his body, and the aversion of his gaze told James all he needed to know.

“You don’t have to say it, Rhys. I know everything.” With that, James left, closing the door behind him. Rhys bowed his head, still blushing heavily.

“… Shit.”

~

“Hi, Dr. Neville? Um… it’s Rhys Campbell. I… just wanted to say I’m sorry for teasing Eleanor at the mall. Can I talk to her?” … “Hi Eleanor. I’m sorry for what I said at the mall. I promise I won’t do it again.” There was a pause as he listened. James watched from the living room in approval, leaning against Chase and squeezing his hand. “Thanks Eleanor. I’ll see you at school.” Rhys hung up the phone before dialling again.

“Hey, Mr. Weaver. Can I talk to Dani please?”

[Chase Campbell]

Marry Me, Dammit

Rhys wasn’t exactly a planner. He was smart, yes, but common sense didn’t always seem to apply. The big things, he never planned. One thing he’d never planned on was Dani.

They’d fought like cats and dogs as kids. Their first ‘date’ had been the result of a dare. Their first kiss had been no more than an obnoxious attempt by Rhys to freak her out. It was safe to say that their relationship hadn’t exactly started well.

They hadn’t even started dating until their first year of college. Now the end was in sight, and once again, Rhys wasn't planning.

It had started with one of those ridiculous conversations. The ones only played out after a long week of exams and studying, a few drinks, and at a ridiculous hour of the morning.

“Hey. Hey. Hey, Dani?”

“Whaaat, Rhys?”

“I wanna ask you something.”

“No. Go to sleep.”

“But it’s impooortant.”

“Rhys, shh. Go to sleep, or I’m kicking you out.”

“Daaaaannniiii.”

“What?”

“Should we get married?”

“… Why?”

“Because we’re in love. Duh.” Dani smacked her fist lightly against his chest.

“You’re stupid.”

“Stupid enough to wanna marry you.”

“Go to bed, Rhys.”

“I am in bed.”

“… Shut up.”

Needless to say, it was far from romantic.

But it seemed to inspire something in Rhys. Once he started something, he rarely stopped until he got his desired result. Whether it was studying his ass off for an exam, or just trying to get Dani to admit she was wrong about something, he was relentless.

He took to sending Dani little texts, simply consisting of ‘Will you marry me yet?’ Dani would usually send back, depending on her mood, ‘Go to hell, Campbell’, or ‘Show me the ring.’ Both seemed to inspire his devious side, and he actually began to plan.

Despite appearances, and popular opinions, Rhys actually paid attention to his girlfriend. He knew her favourite colors, flowers, movies, music, and most importantly, stones. He knew her jewellery preferences, and everything he needed to put his plan into motion.

And he did it all without resorting to calling Dani’s best friend, Eleanor. He could only imagine what she’d say if he’d actually broken down and asked her for advice.

On a day that classes ended early, Rhys headed to the mall, his bank account ready to take a hit. A big hit. With a confident swagger, he marched into the jewellery store and picked out something he was positive Dani would like. It was small, simple, and most importantly, incorporated her favourite stone.

The women at the store had gushed over his attention to detail, his charm, and how lucky his girlfriend must be. He’d just smirked, thanked them for their help, and sauntered away with his purchase wedged firmly in his pocket.

He had one more stop to make before he headed back to school. Swinging into the dollar store, he found the costume jewellery, and picked out a gaudy, obviously cheap ring.

He couldn’t make this too easy, after all.

After pinging off a text to Dani, asking her to expect him soon, he made a delicate switch. The expensive real ring was tucked away safely on its own, and the fake thing was nestled in the satin box. Smirking to himself, he mussed his hair and grabbed his car, ready to find Dani.

On the drive over, he wasn’t nervous. He was confident in himself, and he was confident of Dani’s answer. What was there to be concerned about? Absolutely nothing.

He met up with her in the student lounge, where she was getting coffee. Only a few students lingered in the area. Not that Rhys minded. He could handle having an audience. He cleared his throat, smiling and catching Dani around the waist. “Hey beautiful.”

“Hi Rhys,” she said flatly, still stirring her coffee.

“Whatcha doing?”

“Making coffee, what does it look like?” Rhys bit back a grin and nuzzled into the back of his girlfriend’s neck, pressing little kisses to her soft skin. Despite herself, Dani smiled and relaxed into his embrace.

“I have something I need to ask you,” Rhys said quietly, kissing her earlobe. Dani rolled her eyes, knowing what was coming.

“I told you, show me the ring first.” She glanced back, appraising the cocky expression on his face. “… What?” Rhys just flashed a little grin and slid down to kneel in front of her. Dani went scarlet. “Rhys, stop it. People are looking.” It was one thing for him to bug her in private, but this was a little much. “Rhys, I swear to God, I’m gonna –“

“Dani, I love you. I think I always loved you, from our first crappy date to our best night in bed.”

“Rhys!”

“I love you, and I promise to forever be a pain in your ass, and the guy that can make you go red in one second flat. I promise to tell you when your dress makes you look fat, and love you even if you’re old and cranky.”

“I hate you.”

“Dani, will you just marry me already?” With that, Rhys pulled the ring box from his shirt pocket and presented it to her. For a moment, she was silent. She just stared, hand to her mouth. She’d always figured it was a joke. She was about to tear up when she realized something.

The ring in the box was worth fifty cents, tops. She didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or punch him. She opted for punching him in the arm.

“You asshole!” She stomped her foot and made an attempt to leave the room in a huff. Typical Rhys, say stupid things and embarrass her in front of other students. “That was a stupid joke, Campbell.” Rhys smirked and stood up, moving to block her path. “Rhys, move.”

“Okay,” he responded, ducking down. In a second, he had Dani in his arms, thrown over his shoulder. She squealed and kicked, pounding her fists on his back.

“Put me DOWN! UGH! RHYS! You’re such a JERK!” She squealed and squirmed, but he held on, seemingly unbothered by her display.

“Say you’ll marry me.”

“This is blackmail! And that wasn’t even a good ring!”

“Anyone ever tell you you have a temper, Weaver?”

“Put me down, Rhys.”

“Marry me.”

“Seriously!”

“I’m perfectly serious.”

“You are not.”

“I have a real ring, Dani.” She paused in her assault.

“What?”

“I have the real ring. It’s in my pocket. Stop hitting me.”

“… Fine.” Dani went limp, and Rhys set her back on her feet. She crossed her arms. “You’re serious? You really have a ring, and you really want to marry me?” Rhys nodded. “… And you know that was probably the worst proposal ever, right?”

“It got your attention, didn’t it?”

“Just give it to me.”

“The good one, or the crappy one?”

“Which do you think, genius?”

“Is that a yes?”

“Maybe. If the ring’s good enough.” Rhys smirked and pulled the ring out of his pocket, holding it out to her. Dani inspected it for a moment before grinning. “I love it.”

“Then marry me, dammit.” Dani laughed and threw her arms around him.

“If you insist,” she replied. They hugged, hard, and when they finally untangled themselves, Rhys slid the ring onto her finger and kissed her fingertips.

“Love you, Danielle.”

“Love you too, Rhys.” She smiled up at him. “Even if you’re still a jerk.”

“Your jerk.”

“Yeah. My jerk.” Dani pulled him into a soft kiss.

She couldn’t wait to tell Eleanor.

[Chase Campbell]

Thank You, Captain Obvious

It had taken forever for Rhys to finally choose what he wanted to major in. He was smart, and he knew it, but actually trying to narrow down his choices using only that as criteria had left him bewildered and at the mercy of that terrifying entity called University. It had been hard to get his head into applying when he had no idea what he wanted to do with his life.

His siblings and parents hadn't helped all that much, either.

"You're smart. Be a doctor, like Dad."

"He's not a real doctor, Nikki."

"So be a real doctor."

"That's boring."

~

"I majored in Economics and History."

"So?"

"It's just to give you an idea. There's lots out there. What do you want to do for a career?"

"... Is there any way to make money off my power?"

"You could be a choreographer."

"... That could work. I'd get to see lots of hot girls."

"That would all think you're gay."

"... Forget that, then."

~

"Just do what you want, Rhys. I'm sure there's lots you could do with your power."

"That's not helpful, Gin. I need ideas."

"Circ de Soleil."

"Gay."

"Choreographer."

"Why does everyone keep saying that?"

"It's just a suggestion. What about being a stuntman?"

"... I like it."

~

Rhys was home for Christmas break after his first block of classes at the University of Vermont. After making the decision to major in theatre and drama, he was actually enjoying his classes.

Hitting the mall for some holiday shopping, he hadn't expected to run into any of his follow miracle babies. Most of them had scattered for school, and chances were, almost all of them were more prepared than him for the holidays.

Mulling over a series of paisley (read: ugly) ties for his father, he realized belatedly that there was a pretty, dark haired girl about his age close by. She was inspecting the ties as well, and he grinned, sauntering over. He could lend his expertise.

Well, he would have, had he not realized that it was Danielle Weaver, of all people. She looked up at the same time he realized who he was looking at, and a guarded expression fell across her features.

Rhys just stared. Even beneath the sweater she was wearing, he could tell she'd developed curves. And she was... well... "Wow, Dani. You finally got breasts. Congratulations." The look on her face told him that she hadn’t changed much, if at all.

The slap confirmed that, no, she hadn’t changed.

“Shut up, you little cretin.”

“Aww Dani. Is that any way to treat an old friend?” She shot him a dirty look.

“We’re not friends, Rhys.”

“That’s only your opinion. I disagree.”

“Go die in a ditch, Campbell.”

“Has anyone told you that university did wonders for you, Dani?”

“Go awa- ... wait, what?” Dani blinked, staring at Rhys. “What did you just say?” Rhys shrugged and casually resumed his search for a tie.

“You heard me.” Dani scowled and moved closer, fisting her hand in the back of his jacket and pulled, forcing him to look at her. ... When had he gotten so tall?

“Tell me why you said it.”

“Because it’s true?”

“You never say nice things.” Again, Rhys just shrugged, apparently not concerned by her yanking.

“Maybe I changed a little too. Only one way to find out.” He flashed a grin and finally grabbed the tie he’d had his eye on for a while. His dad would like it. “Come on,” he invited, nodding his head to the till.

“... Why?”

“Because I’m buying this, then I’m taking you for coffee.” Dani continued to stare, letting the jacket slide from her fingers.

“Who says I want to go anywhere with you?” Rhys glanced over his shoulder, a little smirk on his face. But there was something else there. Something she’d never noticed before. A sort of sincerity. Maybe college really had changed him.

Well, only one way to find out.

[Cobalt Weaver]

If It's Love

“You’re getting what?” Ben’s voice was high and loud with surprise and a shocking bit of anger that both Dani and Rhys had expected from Cobalt. Cobalt, as it happened, merely crossed his arms across his chest and leaned against the wall, his angular face unusually impassive.

Dani pinched the bridge of her nose like her father always did when Ben did something irritating. “Dammit, Rhys,” She groaned, “I hadn’t told them yet.”

That gave Rhys pause as he stared from one parent to the other with wide eyes. “…Oh.” Then, after a beat, “Why not?”

“I was hoping to tell them at dinner, you thickhead,” Dani snapped, “Break it to them gently and all. And you had to run your stupid mouth and now look what you did.”

Rhys blinked and looked from Cobalt, who had one eyebrow slightly raised, to Ben, who looked murderous. After a moment, Rhys flashed them what he supposedly thought was a winning smile, “So how ‘bout it? Me and Dani, what do you think?”

Ben made a strangled noise, and took a lurching step forward. Without looking at him, Cobalt shot a hand out and caught Ben’s elbow. When Ben settled, Cobalt walked over and put his hands on Rhys’ shoulders, turned him around and steered him towards the front door.

“Give us a couple minutes, son,” Cobalt said, not sounding angry at all, which was what Dani was expecting, “She’ll call you when we’re done.”

“Hey!” Rhys sounded thrilled, “You called me so—” Click. Cobalt had gently closed the door in Rhys’ face before limping back into the living room and guiding Ben to sit on the couch, nodding for Dani to go sit on the armchair.

Dani sat down obediently and stared at her parents, her blue-grey eyes anxious behind her shoulder length blonde hair. Anxious, but not apologetic. Unable to take the silence, Ben started, “Dani, what are you—”

“Benny,” Cobalt interrupted quietly, rubbing his husband’s back soothingly, “One sec.” The older man turned to Danielle, his blue eyes serious and wrinkled around the edges and in that moment, Dani was very, very aware of how old her parents were. At twenty-two, most people’s parents were going on fifty, not going on seventy. And it occurred to her that her parents wouldn’t be around to watch her children grow up all the way. The thought made her swallow hard; it was important to her that they support her on this.

“Before you say anything, Daddy,” Danielle looked at Cobalt, with a steely look she picked up from both of them, “I just want you to know what no, I’m not joking, I’m not pregnant and yes, I’m sure.”

Cobalt stared at her calmly before resting his forearms on his knees. He examined her face for a long while and reflected on how much she’d grown.

“Are you happy?”

Dani blinked, “Yes.”

“Does he make you happy?”

“Very.”

“Do you love him?”

Dani felt her lips curl upwards into a smile, shy and warm and sheepish. “Yeah,” She said finally, suddenly caught with the urge to giggle. She squelched it instantly, but couldn’t keep from smiling, “I do. A lot.”

Cobalt leaned back and adjusted his classes, “All right then.” Dani blinked, her eyes growing wide. He glanced at his watch, “We can make some calls tomorrow, but it’s almost time for dinner—”

“Wait just one second!” Ben exclaimed, his face angry and worried and confused and hurt, “Don’t I get a say in this? She’s my daughter too, Cobalt.”

“’Course you do,” Cobalt said smoothly, “I’m going to go make dinner, you can go talk to Dani.”

“….Oh.” Ben looked abashed, as though he didn’t know what to do with this blustering anger that he had come across. He wasn’t as adept with it as Cobalt always was. He looked down at Dani, who stared up at him with large pleading eyes. Cobalt shuffled towards the kitchen, but Ben stopped him.

“Oh no, you don’t!” Ben scowled at his husband, “You don’t get to wander away and make me the bad guy. Sit down.”

Cobalt raised his eyebrow challengingly, but sat back down without a word. Dani’s eyes were wide and shocked. She’d never seen either of her fathers act like this before. Ben turned on his daughter, clearly trying to understand.

“…But…I don’t understand, Dani, honey.” Ben entreated, concern lining his face, “I thought you hate him.”

Dani shrugged, “Didn’t you hate Daddy the first time you met him?”

Ben spluttered, Cobalt snickered. “N-no.” Ben stammered, “I didn’t hate your Daddy. I—we didn’t get along but—”

“Well, right,” Dani agreed, “It’s like the same thing. Rhys and I didn’t get along when we first met, just like you and Daddy.”

“But—but…” Ben shook his head, running a hand through his hair, “Rhys was mean to you. Remember the time when you went shopping for bras with Eleanor?”

“Yeah,” Dani rolled her eyes, “Remember the day after? When I pushed him in the mud and then when I put gum in his hair? We were thirteen. Doesn’t make it okay, but trust me when I say that he thinks twice before making a fool out of me.” She looked up at Ben, “Besides, I asked Uncle Josh. He accidentally told me about when he introduced you and Daddy. Daddy was totally mean to you. And you guys turned out fine.”

“Josh has a big mouth,” Ben muttered, clearly at a loss and frustrated. Dani turned pleading eyes to Cobalt, who laid a gentle hand on Ben’s shoulder. Grumbling slightly, Ben followed his husband into the kitchen. Cobalt gave his daughter a reassuring nod before disappearing behind the door.

In the kitchen, Cobalt calmly set out to warm the coffee sitting in the percolator. He poured a cup and set it in the microwave, never one to wait. As the microwave hummed, the two men stared at each other. Finally, the machine pinged and Cobalt pulled out the cup. Ben stood in the kitchen, his jaw set like stone.

“I can’t believe you’re not okay with this,” Cobalt commented mildly as he stirred sugar into his coffee. He stared over his glasses curiously at his husband, his blue eyes slightly concerned and trying not to be. Ben huffed.

“It’s not that…It’s not like I’m not okay with it. I’m just… really? Rhys?” The younger man ran a hand through his almost-grey hair, “I thought she hated him.”

Cobalt shrugged, “Didn’t they go to prom together?”

Ben shot Cobalt a frustrated glance, “Yeah, but I thought it was just a thing, you know? I didn’t think she was serious.” He paused, casting a suspicious look at the shorter man, “Why aren’t you not okay with this?”

Cobalt shrugged again, setting down his coffee and giving Ben a slight smile, “I dunno. Rhys is a good kid, he’s got a good family, he’s smart. He’s kind of an idiot, but he’s grown up a lot in college.” He walked over to Ben and put his hands on his husband’s arms gently, “They’re happy. And nobody’s hurting. That’s important, right?”

Ben huffed out a sigh, his forehead creased with worry, “I just—I mean, yeah. But… She’s my little girl. She’s our baby and…I dunno. I want to make sure she’s happy.” His shoulders slumped and he leaned forward to rest his head on Cobalt’s shoulder. The attorney caught him easily and tucked his head under his chin.

“Benny, she is happy,” Cobalt assured him gently, rubbing his back soothingly, “I wouldn’t be okay with this if she wasn’t, you know that.”

“I thought she hated him,” Ben mumbled confusedly against Cobalt’s shirt. Cobalt laughed.

“Maybe, but she has a point.” Cobalt kissed his forehead, “Remember how well we got along when we first started hanging out?” Cobalt carded his fingers through Ben’s hair. The younger man snorted.

“Yeah, you were a douche.”

“Case in point.”

Ben laughed, straightening up and resting his forehead against Cobalt’s, “When we were younger, I always thought I’d be the one defending Dani’s future fiancée to you. What’s this?”

Cobalt tilted his head forward to kiss him lightly, “It’s because I’m always right.”

“Pfft. Yeah, right.” Ben kissed him again, deeper this time, before pulling away, “Ah, I guess I always thought she’d get married to Car. They were always so close. And much less arrogant.”

Cobalt paused for a moment, staring down at the middle distance with a thoughtful smile on his face. Finally, he looked up and cupped Ben’s face in his hands, “True. Dani and Carwyn could have gotten married. They love each other enough, and they would have been happy. It would have been stupidly nice, and I would have far too many brothers in law. But you know what?”

Ben nuzzled Cobalt’s hands, his face still creased with confusion and worry and doubt, “What?”

“Car is…her Danny.” Cobalt nodded slightly before meeting Ben’s eyes, “And Rhys is her Ben. In the end, it’s not even a contest.”

Ben’s features wavered for a moment before Cobalt pulled him into a deep kiss, twining his arms around Ben’s neck. Ben wrapped his arms around Cobalt’s waist and tilted his head. They stood there for a long time before Ben pulled away, laughing slightly.

“That is cheating,” He protested, “What the hell am I supposed to say to that.”

Cobalt made an exaggerated considering face, “Well. You could say ‘of course, Cobalt. You are always right, I am just silly and worry too much’.”

Ben laughed and pulled Cobalt into a tight hug, “You’re an idiot.”

“You could say that too.”

***

That evening, Ben agreed to let Rhys come back for dinner. There was a moment of awkward silence before Rhys cleared his throat, a smug smile on his face.

“So.” He grinned, “Can I call you guys "Dad", or what?”

Dani kicked Rhys under the table with all her might, causing Rhys to howl. Ben pinched the bridge of his nose and Cobalt shook his head, a grin on his thin face.

[Fifi Hart]

That's an Order

A/N: crack!bbys >3


-



“What’s the matter with Mother, Daddy?” Gabrielle asked cautiously as her father ushered her out of the maternity ward where her little siblings were about to come into the world. A nurse was waiting nearby. Jesse never admitted to fearing anything, but he could honestly say he did not want his six year old daughter hearing the roars that were coming out of Reese’s mouth. Even if they were in a language the girl did not understand, he could see a growing panic in her eyes. She was too young to really understand why Mother was the one screaming so loud when all of the other women seemed to be okay.

Lala and Reese had both refused the epidural, fearing going through the birth without the other sister.

But what sort of six year old understood the concept of an epidural anyway?

Jesse’s head snapped up when the curtain to the area where Reese was quartered off fluttered, Lala coming out and reaching her arms to her child. Gabrielle quickly broke from the nurse and nuzzled into Lala’s waist. The quieter twin was pale, dripping with sweat like her sister, but managed to grit her teeth against the pain raging through her skull.

With shaking hands she scooped up the girl, tucking her dark hair away from her face. Gabrielle tilted her head and laid her small hands on either side of Lala’s face. “Mother. It’s okay.” She chirped over the din of Reese’s shouting, knowing that the woman who had not given birth to her could see her through her sister’s eyes.

As Lala left the birthing area, knowing the pain would lessen the further away she was, she gave Jesse and longing, knowing look and a discreet smile. Jesse swallowed a lump in his throat and ducked into the curtain, one of the doctors was stumbling back from Reese, cradling his hand against his chest. “She broke my hand!” He shrieked shrilly, a nurse rushing in to usher him away. Jesse hovered out of the way, pulling his mask back over his face as the doctor had originally instructed. The midwife perched between Reese’s legs, looked at Jesse with fearful eyes.

“She’s uh…strong.” Jesse said tightly.

Reese snarled at hearing his voice and sat up enough to see him. “Histrião. Maluco! Cavalão!” She howled, her gritted teeth and wild eyes making her look more possessed than in labor. Another nurse nearby looked at him with the same wide eyed expression as the first. He snarled at her and shouldered a doctor out of the way and stood next to her.

“We’re worried about her strength.” The doctor said quietly into Jesse’s ear.

“I can hear you, ass hole.” Reese hissed, her knuckles white in the sheets as another contraction hit her hard.

“Misses Adams, you need to push now.” Said the hesitant midwife.
Tears streamed out of the sides of Reese’s eyes as she gritted her teeth, still cursing in Portuguese.

“That’s enough, Reese!” Jesse snapped, snatching her hand from the sheets and gripping it tightly. Her grip could easily snap his fingers, and his bones groaned in protest. She started yelling at him in her native tongue, and he simply yelled over her, much to the shock of the doctors.

“I should have shot you before!”

“Do you want to kill our babies?”Jesse finally roared. Reese fell silent. “Now push. That’s an order.”
----------------------

Gabrielle ran ahead of her exhausted mothers, both in wheelchairs, and quickly pressed her face against the glass, standing on her tiptoes in her black ballet flats. “Which ones, Mama? Which ones?!” She said with excitement, bouncing slightly as her eager breath fogged the glass, she looked excitedly up at her father. “I have brothers Daddy!”

Jesse’s mouth twitched fondly upward, even as Reese glowered in the wheelchair next to him, still obviously angered. The boys were born with their umbilical cords tangled in such a way that Reese had not yet had a chance to hold them. Her face softened when they were wheeled into the holding room.

Two perfectly healthy, café-au-lait skinned boys.

Lala cooed softly and reached out to brush Jesse’s hand as Reese simply stared blankly past the glass. Gabrielle waved emphatically. “Hello boys!” She called. “It’s me! Gabrielle! I’m your big sister!”

Jesse reached down and scooped Gabrielle against his hip, balancing her there. “The one there on the left is Raul. And the other is Rui.” Chewing the side of her thumb, Gabrielle nodded. “They’re strong, Mother. Just like you.” She said, beaming.

A faint smile had finally broken Reese’s face, though she steered the wheelchair away from her family and around the corner. When Jesse followed her, her sister and child in tow, he smirked smugly at the sight

She was already demanding to hold the boys.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Run That Body Down

Eleanor wasn’t like the other children in Pilot Ridge, because her Daddy and Papa weren’t like any of the other adults in Pilot Ridge. Not because they were both men (all of the Miracle Babies had that in common), not even because they were both older than all of the other parents. But because they fundamentally viewed the world differently than the other adults. Case in point: Eleanor had never been punished; instead she and her Daddy talked about her behavior and then she corrected herself.

Her Daddy talked to her about everything except religion, which her Papa talked to her about extensively. Because her Daddy talked to her about everything, she’d known about sex for longer than the other children.

When she was six years old, she’d asked her Daddy where babies came from. Car and Mischie had heard something about a stork, and Dani had been told about the power of love but it was vague and confusing and would “make sense when she was older.” Eleanor wanted to know the truth and she knew her parents would tell her that. And her Daddy did.

There were eggs and seeds and adults “were physically intimate” and sometimes the eggs and seeds mixed inside a person, and then babies gesutated for about nine months. Then (usually) mothers gave birth and that was where babies came from.

When she was nine, she asked what physical intimacy meant and asked what sex was. She’d heard about sex a couple of times from older kids and wanted to know what it was. So her Daddy sat her down and explained everything. There were books with pictures, and Daddy patiently listened to her questions and answered every single one.

But, she was warned, not all of the other children knew all of this yet, and she needed to keep this between them, at least for a little while. Eleanor was a Daddy’s girl and of course she didn’t tell anyone else because her Daddy asked her not to. Her curiosity was satisfied, and she didn’t really care about what adults did or about sex beyond wanting to know what it was; as such, she didn’t think about it more than that.

Until puberty.

Growth spurts and mood swings and strange new feelings and thoughts plagued her. She needed more hugs, and sometimes she wanted to be left alone which was new to her; she’d never wanted her parents to leave her alone before.

Plus she started having strange dreams. Dreams about boys and swimming in the ocean. Sometimes she thought about the characters in books she read and wondered what it felt like to be kissed.

One day her Daddy knocked on her door when she was in the middle of homework. She’d been involved in the same homework problem for the past five minutes, because she couldn’t concentrate.

“Come in,” she called. It could be either Daddy or Papa, since the house policy was to always knock before entering someone else’s room. But Daddy’s large form and gentle features poked through the door.

“Do you have time for a chat?”

She nodded, because the homework could wait. It wasn’t as though she was getting anything done at the moment. “Sure. What about?”

Her Daddy held up one of the reusable shopping bags he kept in his car. “About how you’ve been feeling recently. I bought you a few things for later.”

She tilted her head to the side, curious. “You bought me presents?”

“Not exactly. But we’ll get to that later.” He smiled at her and then gestured questioningly at her bed. She nodded in permission, and he sat down, before setting the bag down by his feet. “So, Miles Vorkosigan?”

Eleanor blushed and glanced at the stack of paperbacks on her nightstand. “He’s really smart.” She didn’t know it, but she took after her Papa in that way, regarding criteria for attractiveness. She didn’t realize fully that she was infatuated, but she loved the entire series and had dreams about him sometimes where they flew around in his ship. “And exciting and he can do so many different things. I know the books are a little violent but...”

“Sweetheart, I watch film noirs and your Papa reads about Ancient Rome. It’s nothing to worry about.” Daddy smiled at her again and then chuckled. “Besides, I read the first few books in the series. My favorite was Ethan of Athos, however, so I think our similarities end there.”

“Ethan was different,” Eleanor remarked, and then she wrinkled her nose. “He’s more like...Papa.”

“Oh, I know,” Daddy replied with another chuckle. “Why do you think it was my favorite?”

Eleanor smiled a bit. “Yeah, but that’s different. You’re-” It dawned on her what her Daddy had come to talk about, and what he meant when he’d brought up the books she read. “...oh.”

“It happens to everyone,” Daddy reassured her.

“The dreams too?”

“Yes. And the distraction and the emotions, and the way your body feels.”

She believed him because Daddy would never lie to her. Still, some of the dreams were weird. But because she and Daddy could talk about anything, she described it regardless. “I have this one where I’m a princess and I have three bodyguards and they dance for me.”

“That’s perfectly normal.”

“Even though there are three of them?”

“Yes. It’s called a harem dream; plenty of people have those.”

“Do you?”

“No. But my freshman year roommate in college had them. About girls since he was straight and male, but he had them. I wouldn’t have known but he thought about them incessantly when he woke up in the morning.” He shook his head to himself at the memory. “We didn’t have the same taste in women.”

Eleanor scooted her chair closer to the bed and rested her hands in her lap. Because they could talk about this, she wasn’t afraid to ask, “So what do you dream about?”

Daddy smiled softly. “Your Papa.”

Eleanor wasn’t surprised; her fathers weren’t shy about their love and they were affectionate with each other. Sometimes they watched movies as a family and they would cuddle on the sofa, and sometimes they still had date nights even though they were in their sixties. “Does he dance for you?”

“Sometimes.”

That made her feel less weird about it.

And Daddy had to know what she was thinking (not that she ever really expected otherwise), because he leaned over and opened up the bag, before pulling out a book. “I got this for you. The stories in here might make you feel a bit better about your dreams.”

She took the book and glanced down at the cover, before her forehead creased in confusion. Passion: Erotic Romance for Women. “What is this?”

“They’re stories written by women and for women. As a result, they’re focused on women’s needs and desires and physiology, instead of being male-centric, both in terms of focus and fantasy.” Daddy shook his head to himself as he explained. “It’s also sex-positive and accepting of different body types, which is precisely what you should read because I don’t want you to get the wrong messages.”

She continued to stare at the book, which had a picture of a man and a woman kissing on the cover. Finally, she lifted her head to look at her Daddy. “Is this porn?”

“Not exactly. They’re stories, not pictures. However, if you want pictures, I’ll buy you those as well.”

“You’ll buy me porn?”

“I’ll buy you anything you need,” he said with a nod; the smile from earlier was gone. He wasn’t frowning, but she could tell that he was serious. “You’re growing up, and you’re entitled to explore yourself and your needs without judgment. However, you won’t be allowed to go into a store to buy any of this for yourself, which is why you have me.”

That was why Eleanor knew her parents weren’t like other parents; she couldn’t think of anyone else who would buy this for their children. “So if I need more I should just tell you?”

He nodded in confirmation. “Tell me, think at me; you can leave a note for me, if you want.”

“What about the Internet? I think that’s where almost everyone gets their information.”

That actually earned a slight frown from her Daddy, who then shook his head. “You have to be careful on the Internet.”

“Why?”

“Because a fair amount of it is terrible. A great deal is frightfully misogynistic and I don’t want you exposed to that. You’re a young woman; you don’t exist to give men pleasure, even if you’re attracted to them.” Because she wasn’t a telepath, she didn’t know what Daddy was thinking, but she assumed it was a collection of different lectures of his students. She knew about the Talk he gave every year, and she could only imagine what he had to deal with from the kids.

That made sense. Both Daddy and Papa talked about misogyny a lot and how they didn’t want her to feel like she was worth less than boys were or that she had to let her life revolve around a man when she grew up. “Oh. I’ll be careful.”

“I know you will be. I trust you.”

It was important for Eleanor to have her Daddy’s trust; it made her smile and made her feel grown up. So she leaned in and wrapped her arms around him. “Thanks, Daddy.”

She felt his stubble as he pressed a soft kiss to her kiss. “You’re welcome, Sweetheart.”

When she let go, he rose from the bed but left the bag where it was on the floor. “There are a couple of other things in here for you. Look them over when you finish your homework, or later if you don’t feel like it now. And you know you can always ask me questions.”

“Yes Daddy.”

He smiled at her, and she smiled back. “Brownies for dessert later.”

With that, he left. Eleanor turned back to her homework but her curiosity got the better of her. So she picked up the bag and pulled out a bottle of clear liquid. She was momentarily confused, until she remembered the anatomy lesson Daddy had given her a long while back. Oh...

**************************************

It was a while later that Sean suggested a trip to the special bookstore in Burlington. Always happy to expand their personal library, Josh agreed without asking questions. It was for the best, since Sean had a shopping list in his wallet, written in purple pen.

[RC Manne]

Candlelight[/u]



A/N: MOAR CRACK!BBYS!

-


Reese laid her head back against the wall outside the master bathroom of the compound, her hands in loose fists on her knee. When Jesse passed her to re-enter the bathroom, she didn’t acknowledge his presence, or even moved. It was if her consciousness was suspended elsewhere in space, that somehow her meditation had made her nothing more than an empty shell.

Squinting in the dim candlelight, Jesse peered at Lala’s form in the tub, her thick curls of black hair sticking to her face and back. The midwife was like a ghost from the corner, murmuring soothing words to Lala like a priestess to her goddess. Jesse knelt by the soaker tub, situating himself so that he could see Lala’s profile.

Like her sister’s, Lala’s eyes were gently lidded, her wet lashes luxurious against her cheeks. They fluttered open when she sensed her husband near. Her skin held certain pallor, but it was the only sign of exertion she showed. Otherwise, she looked perfectly beautiful.

“Fofinho…” She greeted in her soft, gentle way, her skin shining wetly in the warm light.
He took her hand with silent strength. She squeezed it softly, closing her eyes and smiling distantly.

The midwife stepped forward and knelt near Jesse. “Would you like to help, Mister Adams?” She entreated quietly, careful not to break the peaceful atmosphere.

Jesse looked at her, blinking. “How?” He had always figured he’s just be there as a hand to hold. Or someone to yell at. He’d had no idea this whole having a baby thing would be so…easy.

“Put your hands here, and press gently, just barely enough to feel where the baby is.” She instructed, dipping her hands into the water and demonstrating where to feel. Jesse hesitated until Lala again opened her chocolate eyes, squeezing his hand encouragingly before letting go.

More confident now, he delved his hands into the water, pressing on Lala’s belly swollen with child. His eyes widened fractionally. “Legs…and a head.” He explained. The midwife nodded.

“Then we’re ready to push.” The midwife declared, handed Jesse a pair of latex gloves.
Jesse wasn’t sure what she meant by we, but Lala readjusted herself and gripped the sides of the tub and he donned to the gloves.

“Reach here to catch the baby.”

“Catch it?” Jesse repeated, starting to regret sounding so idiotic.

“You’ll see.”

Lala's tight, but rhythmic breaths were the only sounds in the air, other than the sloshing of water. After a time, Jesse could see what the midwife had been talking about. A bald crown appeared in Jesse’s hands, suddenly followed by the remainder of a baby.

He lifted his child slowly from the water as Lala sank into the tub with exhaustion. The moment the baby’s head crested the water, it began to cry. Holding the wailing creature in his hands, Jesse had never felt so instantly in love.

“Mister and Misses Adams…meet your daughter.”

“Gabrielle…” Lala whispered, reaching her arms out to both her husband and her baby.

“Gabrielle.” Jesse repeated, smiling the widest smile his face could muster.

[Cobalt Weaver]

Happiness Hit Her Like A Train on a Track

Dani had been looking forward to seeing her friend to tell her The Exciting News. So much so, in fact, that she had called the girl immediately after talking to her parents and left a half-coherent message, garbled with excitement and relief. They met at the diner that they used to go to with their families when they were small. Car and Mishie weren’t out of school yet, so it was just the two of them, laughing and ordering far too much pie.

“So,” Eleanor said, brushing dark hair behind her shoulders, “What was this big exciting thing you wanted to tell me about?”

Dani opened her mouth, closed it, and then opened it again. How was she even supposed to begin? How was she supposed to sum up an entire childhood of animosity morphing into an adolescence full of strange tension that was warmer than hate, and far too terrifying to be love.

She wondered if her fathers thought love was as scary as it felt to her sometimes.

Unable to think of the words to encompass all this, she held up her left hand, the ring glinting on her finger. Eleanor’s face lit up with glee and shock and joy. “Oh my gosh!” She squealed, “Dani, no way! Who is it, do we know him?”

Dani never blushed. She didn’t. She was tough like her Daddy, and she was proud of that. So her cheeks were not warm, and she wasn’t flushing. She did, however, mutter, “….Rhys.”

Eleanor’s eyebrows shot up, “Rhys? Rhys Campbell?”

“Yes,” Dani said with a touch of exasperation, and if one more person was going to ask her if this was a joke, she was going to—

“And Uncle Cobalt didn’t shoot him?”

Grateful, Dani laughed, “You know what? It wasn’t Daddy at all who was upset. It was Dad. Can you believe that?”

Eleanor’s surprised expression deepened, “Uncle Benny? For real?” She leaned back, processing this information, “I didn’t think Uncle Benny could get upset. And Uncle Cobalt was all good?”

Dani nodded, “Right? So weird. Daddy just asked me if I was happy and stuff.”

“Are you?”

Dani stared at her half-eaten piece of pie and a reluctant, kind of stupid looking smile formed on her face. “…Yeah. It’s stupid, really. I mean, we hated each other when we were kids. And he’s still such a pain in the ass but…” Dani shrugged, “He takes me seriously. It’s hard, being the only girl engineer in some of my classes. And, you know, I’ve finally decided to listen to Daddy and stop wearing his shirts, and I’m just…” She shrugged again, “Rhys makes stupid comments about my boobs and shit, but he will never doubt my abilities. That’s really important to me.”

Eleanor gave her a small smile, “He does think you can do anything.”

“Like kick his ass,” Dani snickered fondly, twisting the ring around her finger, “I just want what my dads have. And what your dads have. They all seem so happy, y’know? And I know my dads went through a bunch of shit they don’t like talking about with me before they could get their act together. And so did yours. I wasn’t ever expecting all this love crap to be easy. But it’s worth it.”

Eleanor laughed lightly, “Wow, look at you. You’ve got feelings and everything.”

Dani kicked Eleanor under the table, grinning, “Shut up. I do not.”

“Yeah, okay, sure.”

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Love and Blessings

He was as big as a house. Everybody laughed at him for how fat and bloated he was, and for the fact that he waddled like a penguin when he walked.

He was hungry all of the time, and when by some miracle he wasn’t hungry, he was nauseated. He wasn’t allowed to have coffee or beer, and he was chewed out by his doctor for not having a balanced diet, and thus he now had to eat an array of vegetables he didn’t particularly like. All because he needed iron and potassium and beta-carotene.

Plus, Janice had accused him of sleeping with Danny Silverman. He’d been more offended than words could express, and he’d been prepared to lecture her about how he would never cheat or encourage someone else to cheat with him, and how his personal life was none of her business. Instead, he’d cried. That was why she’d backed down from the accusation, he was fairly sure. Crying made him look weak and caused people to treat him with kid gloves.

Except in court where the judges would bang their gavels and force ten-minute recesses on him until he calmed down. All while his clients looked horrified, and the other side and the court personnel snickered at him and whispered behind his back.

Janice said he shouldn’t go to court until this had passed, and he’d cried over that too. He knew she was right, because his behavior wasn’t professional, even if he couldn’t help it and his doctor told him that it was natural. That thought just made him cry harder.

He needed to go to work. He couldn’t stay home all day because he was too useless to work. And he was useless at home. He couldn’t cook. He couldn’t clean most places because he was too fat to bend or to reach or to get up without help if he was seated on the floor or crouched or kneeling. He couldn’t run any errands, because he couldn’t drive and he was too fat and tried to use his bicycle. He was a moocher because he didn’t even own the house or most of the things inside the house; all of those were Sean’s.

Everyone else got to go to work. Griff and Chase worked. Riley worked, and his job involved physical labor. Cobalt worked, and they had the same damned job, so why was Cobalt able to do his work, and Josh was just useless?

Probably because he was meta. Everyone else was meta, and Josh felt so weak and useless and excluded. Like he didn’t fit in. It was bad enough that he felt physically terrible all of the time between being tired and hungry and nauseated and sore, and that he cried at the drop of a hat. And that he was a medical anomaly and so fat that he couldn’t see his feet and that people laughed at him. And his mother was disappointed in him, so disappointed, and thus he felt guilty. But he didn’t fit in and then Cobalt would snap at him over nothing, and Riley had been avoiding their lunch meetings to be with Griff and Danny. Josh supposed that was fair since Josh didn’t really want to be around himself or Cobalt either right now, which also made him feel guilty. And lonely since one of his friends was avoiding him and the other hated him.

He’d been giving Sean mixed signals for so long now that he was amazed that the telepath hadn’t thrown him out yet. Then sometimes he was sure that Sean would this time or worse, that he only stayed with him out of obligation. That Sean cared so much about the notion of a baby that he was willing to put up with Josh’s behavior and lack of appeal as a means to an end. And he cried about that sometimes too, and then felt guilty for thinking that of his partner when Sean put up with so much and then he cried more.

Anytime the telepath spent time with other people, Josh would become seized by a fit of insecurity and jealousy, and so he would make Sean account for his time out. His partner didn’t get to see many friends as a result, and then sometimes Josh threw up these walls between them because he felt overwhelmed and wanted to be alone.

Other times, the attorney would need Sean to hold him after supper to comfort him, sometimes for an hour or longer, and he would cling and apologize and complain and cry.

Despite that, he still slept in his separate bedroom with increasing frequency. Some of those nights, he climbed into bed in their joint bedroom in the middle of the night without warning and would cuddle up against Sean’s larger frame, waking the telepath in the middle of the night.

Neither of them slept very well.

Josh also wasn’t interested in sex at all because of the hormones and the pain in his back, stomach, and feet. He knew that he’d made it clear to Sean that he wasn’t interested, which wasn’t really fair because he knew that the telepath enjoyed the act as a bonding experience. But Sean never pressured him and never complained, which should have relieved Josh. Instead he felt guilty, and the lack of pressure sometimes only contributed to his fears that Sean wasn’t attracted to him anymore.

He might have accused the telepath of that one night.

Sean hadn’t reacted, because he never reacted. Instead, he had been quick to assure Josh that he loved him. He was always quick to remind him of that. Sometimes Josh felt terrible about how he fished for the reassurance and yet had such trouble reciprocating.

Saying the words aloud had been difficult before the pregnancy. Now, whenever he tried, he broke down sobbing and then physically choked on the words.

Some days, Josh couldn’t wait for the entire ordeal to end. To just have the baby and to get on with his life. That was irrational, of course, because life would change irrevocably once the baby was born. Other nights, he was worried about having the baby, feared birth defects because he was fifty-one going on fifty-two and how could a baby not have birth defects?

While he tried to minimize his time talking to Griff, the Welshman did seem to agree with his assessment and had all manner of information from the Internet to share.

One time, Sean had put the Web MD printouts in the garbage. Josh had cried when he couldn’t find them.

Josh had told Griff about it during the support group, and the Welsh doctor had been sympathetic and given him more. The contents kept him awake at night.

“What do you talk about at your support group?” Josh had asked one morning over breakfast. He missed coffee; Sean made him drink juice and decaffeinated herbal tea to help his moods, but it never worked.

“I can’t talk about it.” Sean also drank herbal tea as an act of solidarity. Sipping from his cup, he offered Josh an apologetic half-smile. “It’s confidential, and it’s not my place to divulge what the other men say in a safe space.”

“I don’t care about what they say. I want to know what you say.”

Sean’s smile faltered, and he took another sip of his tea. Finally, he replied, “I talk about how lucky I am.”

Josh frowned at him and shook his head. “You’re lying.”

Sean sighed softly and also shook his head. “I’m not lying.”

“Yes you are. You aren’t lucky so why would you talk about that?”

“I am lucky. I have you, and we’re going to have a baby together. There’s nothing luckier than that.” Sean’s smile was genuine, and he reached across the table to touch Josh’s hand.

Josh felt his eyes moisten from the contact. He reached up with his free hand to press against his eyelids, willing the tears to stop. Yet somehow the pressure on his eyes made his back hurt, and he cried out in frustration more than in pain.

“Do you want a back rub?” Sean offered, only concern in his eyes.

Josh buried his face in his hands and felt himself begin to sob. “I just don’t want to do this anymore.”

*******************************

Josh awoke with a start, covered in sweat. His hands immediately went to his stomach which, although carrying a bit more flab because of his diet and lifestyle (beer took its toll), was otherwise flat. He breathed a sigh of relief which came out as more of a shudder than he would have liked.

The attorney then turned carefully to look at his partner, not wishing to disturb the older man. Sean was propped up against the headboard with pillows behind him to cushion his back, and blankets covering him for warmth. His eyes were closed, and the slow rise and fall of his chest indicated that he was still asleep. The large bulge of his belly also rose and fell under the blankets.

Carefully, Josh inched closer to his very pregnant partner and nestled against him in the least restrictive way possible. Unfortunately, that caused Sean to stir and open one bleary eye. “Can’t sleep?”

Sean didn’t sleep well, between the usual insomnia and now the physical discomfort and hormones. Josh felt terrible about waking him up. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” The telepath offered one arm to wrap around Josh’s shoulders.

The attorney took the hint and rested his head on one broad shoulder, mindful of his partner’s stomach. Sean was as warm and comforting as ever, and Josh idly wondered if this was what their baby felt, growing inside of him. Warm and safe and comfortable because she was with Sean. He certainly hoped so; he hoped their baby understood just how lucky she was to have Sean as her pregnant father.

Josh felt warm breath on his ear before hearing Sean’s sleepy baritone. “She’s lucky to have both of us.”

[Henry Ballo]

Bbyverse. Idea suggested by Sean a loooooooonngg time ago.

For the lovely Kayla.<3 My apologies to Nu and Chez for character mangling.
-------
“Daaaanny.”

The model builder groaned and rolled over, resisting the urge to pull a pillow over his head. That wouldn’t have been nice, and Danny tried really, really hard to be nice at all times, even when he wanted to sleep. He hoped that putting his head down in the pillow would serve as a message.

Judging by the gentle but insistent hand shaking his shoulder, that was a no.

“Danny.” It sounded like it was Griff. “Dannyyy. Could you get me some watermelon?”

Danny sleepily opened one eye to blink at the clock. It was a little fuzzy, but the number looked suspiciously like a three.

“’is the middle of winter,” he mumbled. He gave up on sleep and pushed himself up, reaching over Riley to fumble for the glasses on the bedside table so he could look sleepily at his partner. “Why do you want watermelon?”

Griff looked very awake, sitting up against the headboard of their large bed with his nervous expression on. “I don’t know,” he admitted, placing a hand over his large stomach. “I just do.”

Danny didn’t like the nervous expression. And he knew that was going to be the answer. So he sighed, nodded, and managed to tumble out of bed. Once he’d righted himself, and trudged out to find the car keys so he could go get some watermelon.

Pregnancy, he was discovering, was tricky. He’d been shocked to find out that both Riley and Griff were pregnant at first, and then excited. Two kids? He hadn’t ever thought he’d have any kids! He could give them all the stuff that he didn’t get when he was a child, and they could be one very large happy family together! With three fathers, where could they go wrong?

Except dealing with two pregnant men was more difficult than he had thought. Sometimes he’d come back from getting groceries to find Riley bent over the sink and his large stomach crying. Danny would usually drop whatever he was carrying and rush to his side and, after asking what was wrong, would get “I’m just so happy” or “Danny, my feet ache.” And sometimes, if he was really unlucky, Riley would have found out he’d broken the eggs and start crying all over again.

And then there was Griff and his constant concerns, worrying if he’d gotten sick or if he was starting the contractions or if the baby was turned right.

“You’re going to have a C-section,” Danny tried explaining, having been patiently been briefed by the perplexed doctor as to what he was supposed to expect (and Danny kind of wished he’d given more details than he had). “You don’t have to worry about whether the baby’s turned or not. It’s going to be okay, I promise!”

“But you don’t know that!” It was half a wail. And Griff was crying now. Danny carried around a bunch of tissues for this purpose and patiently handed them out. “And I just want everything to go well!”

And in spite of all of Danny’s reassurances, he couldn’t convince him that it was going to be okay.

There were also the constant requests for foot rubs, the complaints about swollen ankles, the back massages (Danny made a fancy model for a collector to purely fund the purchase of a fancy mechanical back massager and a couple of footbaths), and the pile of Riley’s baking that soon filled the entire house. One day Danny came back to a pile of pies and cookies and sweets covering the counter and quietly snuck right back out the door before Riley could insist he eat any of it. He loved pie and he loved sugar, but he thought that if he saw another apple pie he might be the one crying. And then there were the cravings, the food that consistently vanished from the fridge, the false alarms, and the constant soft, loving but insistent murmurs of “Dannyyyyy,” followed by large eyes and a request Danny couldn’t turn down.

It was the middle of the night again, and Danny was trying desperately to sleep when he felt a hand on his shoulder. And then one on his other. He rolled over to blink blearily at the two before he realized something was really wrong. They were both very pale, and their grip on Danny was tight.

“Danny,” Griff said nervously. “I think—”

“I think it’s r-real this time,” Riley added.

Danny stared at both, then lurched out of the bed, grabbed his glasses. He wasn’t a fast driver. He kind of liked going slow, especially as he was out of LA and didn’t have to worry about speeds. But he was pretty sure he ran several red lights and broke most of the speed limits before they came skidding to a halt in front of the hospital. Danny didn’t think he was breathing as the two were ushered into the hospital and taken straight to a room. To different rooms. So Danny lingered outside, pacing back and forth between the two rooms. He made one panicked call to Cobalt and hung up fairly promptly, remembering his friend had his own problems. And after several agonizing hours, he was invited back in. Two children were deposited into his arms, and a smile appeared on his face as a warm feeling started right in the center of his chest and extended all the way down to his finger tips and toes. And Danny really realized that nothing would really ever be the same ever again.

And that he still wasn’t going to get any sleep for a really long time.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Patterns

Breakfast at the Neville-Bernstein home was typically chaotic. First bell at Hammel was at 8:00a.m. and it wasn’t uncommon for Josh to have court at 9:00a.m. on the dot, and his inability to drive required him to leave early, particularly if he had to check in at the office before going to court. Typically, Sean dropped Eleanor off at daycare on the way to Hammel, and thus he was charged with the task of preparing breakfast.

However, there had been an early morning faculty meeting to discuss policy, and it was inhumane to make his daughter wake that early; besides, the caretaker wouldn’t open her home at such an hour. Thus Sean had left the entire morning routine to Josh: waking Eleanor, making sure she was dressed, preparing breakfast, and then taking her to daycare before court.

Eleanor usually ate oatmeal with cinnamon sugar or toast with strawberry jam for breakfast; some days, she and Daddy would share a banana (she liked the bottom half) or a grapefruit with sugar on the top to make it a little less sour. She’d have a glass of skim milk to go with it. With her Papa making breakfast instead of Daddy, there was still skim milk, but Josh decided to do something special for her and gave her a poppy seed bagel.

She took one bite, wrinkled her nose, and refused to touch the rest. She finished off her milk and asked if she could have a banana.

Josh stared at her in confusion. “What’s wrong?”

“It tastes funny.”

The attorney took the bagel from her plate and had a bite. “It tastes fine.” It wasn’t stale; it wasn’t moldy. It was a perfectly good bagel.

“I don’t like it.”

“I’ll toast it and you can put some cream cheese on it,” he suggested, before going over to the toaster oven.

Eleanor didn’t take well to toasted bagel or to the cream cheese. Josh offered to switch with her; she could have his onion bagel and he would eat the rest of her poppy one. She took one bite, made a face, and then all but begged her Papa for a banana or a piece of toast.

Perplexed, Josh gave her both. Afterward he wiped her face, put her in the child’s seat on the back of his bicycle, and then rode her to daycare. While his work occupied him, and he had a full schedule for the day, Eleanor’s behavior during breakfast nagged at the back of his mind. He simply couldn’t understand the problem.

When Josh came home after work, Eleanor was in the living room building with her Legos. She smiled at him and waved, before returning her attention to the multicolored blocks. The attorney waved back before wandering into the kitchen where he found his partner.

“I hope you don’t mind baked ziti for supper,” Sean said without turning around. He was in the middle of tending to the baking pan.

“I don’t mind.”

“Good. Then do you think you can tear up some lettuce for salad?”

Josh sighed softly but murmured his agreement and went to the refrigerator to pull out the lettuce head. He tore the leaves a little too violently, which caught the telepath’s attention.

Sean turned to look at the other man, studied him for a moment and then asked, “What’s wrong?”

Not “Is something wrong?” because he was too obvious.

Josh sighed again as he rinsed off the lettuce leaves before tearing them again and tossing them into the salad spinner. “Eleanor didn’t eat her breakfast this morning.”

That earned a curious look from the telepath. “She said you made her toast.”

“Well, she ate that but I’d made her a bagel first. She wouldn’t eat it.”

“And?”

“I gave her two and cream cheese, and I toasted them, and she still wouldn’t eat.”

Sean put the pan in the oven, set the timer, and shut the door. With that, Josh had his full attention. “So she doesn’t like bagels. There are several foods she doesn’t like, Slim; she’s four.”

“But they’re bagels.”

“Right. They’re just bagels.” The telepath walked around his partner and fetched the knife to cut the tomatoes, cucumbers, and peppers for their salad.

“They aren’t just bagels,” Josh replied, and his tone had that warning contained when he was about to begin a rant. Sean steeled himself for whatever rant was to follow; he could imagine, of course, but imagination only went so far.

Josh didn’t disappoint.

“It’s a matter of cultural pride.” The attorney didn’t react to his partner’s raised eyebrow, instead plowing forward with his explanation. “It’s one of the best-known Jewish foods. Everyone has their favorite type. They serve them after morning services at Temple sometimes. It’s more than just a food; it’s a representation of her heritage.”

Josh was in full rant mode. As such, the salad he had been tasked with preparing was forgotten. He was equally oblivious to the English cucumber and tomatoes that Sean was washing in the sink. Instead, he talked, voicing what he considered to be the inevitable. “Does this mean she’s ashamed of her heritage? Has she somehow internalized some anti-Semitism to make her not want to be Jewish? We’ve tried so hard to help her be proud of herself, but there aren’t many Jews in Vermont. She hasn’t had the proper role models and now she thinks there’s something wrong with her heritage so she wants to reject it. Is she going to be Catholic now? Is she going to start going to Church and want to celebrate Christmas and Easter? Is she going to want to spend time with your sister and come to hate me and you the way that Kathleen does? I don’t know what I did wrong to make her hate me.”

A beer appeared on the counter beside Josh, as Sean went from the refrigerator back to the counter to finish with his the meal preparation. A moment of silence passed, while Josh waited for a reaction, any reaction, to his questions, while the telepath simply worked on making salad. Josh began to feel self-conscious, so he opened his beer and looked down at the counter.

Finally, Sean broke the silence. “She doesn’t eat corned beef.”

“Pardon?” That wasn’t what Josh had expected as a reaction.

“She doesn’t eat corned beef. She’s half-Irish, but she thinks it tastes ‘yucky.’ I made it for Saint Patrick’s Day, and she wouldn’t touch it.”

Josh had no recollection of this. He knew that Sean made corned beef and cabbage every year on Saint Patrick’s Day because it was tradition. But he didn’t recall Eleanor refusing to eat with them. Then again, smaller details often failed to register.

“I made her macaroni and cheese,” Sean replied with a shrug, as he finished cutting the cucumber and tomatoes and added them to the salad. He repeated his point from earlier. “She’s four. She’s picky about some foods because of that. It’s typical for children her age, and it doesn’t mean anything more than that she doesn’t like how something tastes.”

“So she’s rejecting all of her heritage?”

That hadn’t been the point at all, and to that end, Sean sighed softly. The telepath shook his head and then said, “Let me guess, you had an onion bagel. Maybe with extra salt.” That was one of Josh’s preferred types of bagels. “And you probably gave her one of those or a poppy seed or pumpernickel or sesame, right?”

“Onion and poppy seed,” Josh admitted.

“Right. Do you know what all of those have in common with corned beef and cabbage?” Sean handed Josh the salad spinner, and the attorney took it without protest since this was often part of his contribution to their meal preparation. He waited for Sean to answer his own question, since it was obviously rhetorical.

“They have strong flavors. They’re savory. They aren’t sweet. Her favorite food is strawberries. Her other favorite food is brownies because she has my sweet tooth. So don’t read too much into this.” Sean crossed back to the oven to check on the baked ziti, and judged that it could use a few extra minutes to warm.

“Are you sure?”

“I usually am.” Sean’s voice held gentle teasing, not arrogance or frustration as might be expected or warranted given that his fifty-six-year-old partner needed reassurance that their daughter wasn’t rejecting their family over a dislike of bagels. “But there’s a way to test my theory.”

Josh finished with the salad spinner and turned to look at the telepath. His eyes were wide with anticipation, curious about what this test could possibly involve.

“This weekend, we’ll go to the bakery and pick up a cinnamon raisin bagel and a blueberry bagel for her to try. If she takes to them, I’m right about the savory flavors putting her off. If she doesn’t, then it’s probably a problem with texture.”

“Children don’t eat raisins.”

At least Sean had succeeded in distracting his partner, if that was what Josh had chosen to focus on.

“Plenty of children eat raisins. Eleanor eats raisins.”

“When?” Josh had difficulty conceiving of this notion, since raisins, like Twizzlers, were something he didn’t think people ate of their own volition. Certainly not children.

“She eats oatmeal raisin cookies. And she loves blueberries.”

“All right,” Josh conceded with a nod, not merely accepting his partner’s word about Eleanor and raisins (as baffling a notion as that was) but also agreeing to this experiment. Sweet bagels didn’t rate as real bagels to Josh, but he supposed it was a start. Admittedly, he wanted to be proven wrong in this instance, as much as he usually hated having to accept that he was wrong. Better that Eleanor eat fake bagels than not eat bagels at all.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Was a Sunny Day

There was a nice park a few towns over with a phenomenal playground; while there was a park in Pilot Ridge near the lake, the playground equipment there paled in comparison to the one in the other town. It had two jungle gyms: one was shaped like a castle, and the other was shaped like a pirate ship.

Eleanor loved both; she loved to climb on both, loved to spin the plastic ship wheel and walk the plank to jump safely into the sand beneath the jungle gym. She loved to walk along the drawbridge across the “moat” and she loved to sit in the little towers and wave excitedly at her parents.

Because it was a warm, sunny day, Josh had taken Eleanor to the park. She would get to run around and climb the jungle gyms and pretend to be a princess or a pirate or a pirate princess, and he would read the advanced sheets in order to do a bit of legal research. While they did this, Sean ran errands and then would eventually start on supper preparation.

Josh had settled on a bench from which he could easily see Eleanor and make sure that she was all right. She busied herself with the castle, slowly climbing so she could get to one of the towers. Assured that she was fine, the attorney opened the booklet to the page he had marked, and he began to read.

He was only able to get five pages into the case – with intermittent breaks to wave back at Eleanor when she giggled and called out to him – before a voice beside him asked, “Is she yours?”

Josh blinked and lifted his head, turning to find a middle-aged woman (she looked to be around Janice’s age) sitting beside him on the bench. She must have just gotten there, although he found it a little baffling how people managed to sneak up on him sometimes; Sean never seemed to have that problem. In response to his confusion, the woman pointed at Eleanor, who was now giggling and sliding down one of the slides on the castle. He nodded, smiling fondly. “She is.”

The woman smiled as well. “What’s her name?”

“Eleanor.” And because they were having a conversation, he went the step further and introduced himself. “And I’m Josh.”

The woman held her hand out for a handshake. “I’m Lorraine.” When he took her hand, she added, “You must be very proud; she’s adorable.”

“I am.” Josh’s smile widened. “And she is.”

“She looks just like you,” Lorraine remarked.

“Mostly,” Josh admitted, because that was undeniable. Eleanor had his hair color and thickness, as well as his cheeks and the roundness of his face. Her eye color came from both her parents, but she had her Daddy’s nose. “I wasn’t that cute as a child.” No matter what his mother said or continued to mention whenever she had visits with her granddaughter.

His little self-deprecating remark earned a gale of warm laughter from his new companion. “I find that hard to believe.”

“That just means you don’t know how cute she really is,” Josh replied, completely unaware of any possible implications contained in the woman’s statement.

As though to prove him right, Eleanor was now spinning in a circle on the deck of the pirate ship, a big grin stretched across her lips to light up her entire face with glee.

“I suppose I’ll just have to learn,” Lorraine replied. While Josh’s attention was on Eleanor, she glanced down at his hands, which were bereft of jewelry of any kind. “Are you from around here?” She asked.

“I live in Pilot Ridge,” Josh replied.

“That explains why I haven’t seen you around town,” Lorraine remarked with another light laugh. “Do you only come here for the playground?”

Josh’s expression turned momentarily sheepish. “We do; it’s her favorite playground.”

“It’s a very nice playground,” Lorraine agreed. Then she added, “But you should come into the town proper sometime. There’s a lot to see and do.”

Josh was used to invitations to interact with other people, because he was friendly and extroverted. As such, he didn’t think anything of the invitation, beyond it simply being an invitation to spend time with another person. “I might have to take you up on that. Have you lived here long?”

“I’m originally from upstate Vermont,” Lorraine said. “Where the farm country is, but I work in Burlington so I moved closer; the small-town scene is comfortable to me.”

“Oh? And what do you do?” Josh asked, genuinely curious, because he was always curious about new friends.

“I teach political science at the University of Vermont,” she explained.

Josh’s eyes widened a bit, because he was always impressed by higher education, and teaching higher education was all the more impressive. It meant she had a Ph.D.; it also meant that she was likely underpaid for the work she did, which was one of the reasons he often petitioned for higher pay in education. Not that those petitions ever seemed to go anywhere. Additionally, he was very fond of political science; he had taken many of those classes in college when pursuing his pre-law degree. Besides, politics was his lifeblood. “I studied that in college.”

“Did you?” Lorraine smiled. “Where did you go to college?”

“NYU.”

Lorraine’s smile widened. “And what do you do for a living.”

“I’m an attorney.”

“NYU Law as well?” Lorraine asked. There were fewer law schools than colleges, and many students tried to stay in the same geographical area as their colleges, if at all possible.

“Yes,” Josh replied with a nod. He was proud of that; he could be a little too proud of that, although he tried not to boast.

“Smart and good-looking,” Lorraine said with a laugh. “You just have the whole package, don’t you?”

That comment earned a sideways glance from Josh; he liked compliments about his intelligence, but compliments on his looks were peculiar and tended to be red flags. Baffling red flags. “Beg pardon?”

“And you’re modest,” she remarked with the smile still on her lips and appraisal in her eyes. “People must compliment you all the time.”

“Ahh...well, no,” Josh murmured, his cheeks beginning to flush with embarrassment. The conversation had shifted abruptly from friendly to uncomfortable.

“Your ex-wife must not have taken good care of you,” she replied, her expression turning somewhat sympathetic. “If she didn’t take the time to tell you that. But I guess that’s why she’s your ex-wife, isn’t it? Unless she couldn’t appreciate you at all and made the mistake to leave.”

“My ex-wife?” Josh asked in disbelief, as realization dawned upon him. This woman, as nice and friendly as she was, not only was trying to flirt with him, but she thought he was a single father or a divorced man who had visitation with Eleanor on the weekends. He had to immediately disabuse her of those notions, before this went a moment further and became more embarrassing or awkward for either of them.

Unfortunately, Josh couldn’t think of the last time he had flirted with another person who wasn’t Sean. He needed to extricate himself from this conversation as quickly as possible, and the attorney wracked his brain for a plan. What did he do when someone flirted with him at a bar? He couldn’t risk being subtle, because he wanted her to know that this wasn’t personal, but that romance was impossible.

Because he was taken. And even if he wasn’t taken and so very happy with Sean and their family, he was gay and Lorraine, as nice as she was, was a woman and thus not his type. At all. Ever.

Nervously, Josh pulled out his cell phone and glanced down at it, willing it to ring. It didn’t. But, it did provide him with the time, in lieu of using a watch. He supposed that would work, and so he hastily rose to his feet and gestured at the time on his phone. “I’m sorry, but I...ahhh...I need to go. Eleanor’s Daddy is expecting us home for dinner, and he’ll want help setting the table.”

Lorraine gave him a surprised and curious look. “What...?”

Josh didn’t give her the opportunity to finish her question. “Her Daddy. My partner,” Josh explained, trying to make it obvious that he was gay without actually saying those words aloud. He backed away from the bench and went over to the pirate ship where Eleanor was playing with the fake, over-sized steering wheel. Josh held open his arms and called his daughter’s name; she turned to look at him, pouted, but then climbed down into his arms.

“It was nice to meet you!” Josh called over his shoulder to Lorraine without looking at her; he ran, didn’t walk, towards his bicycle to buckle Eleanor into the child seat to take her back home. He didn’t even check to see if Lorraine was still on the bench when he began to ride away.

[Cobalt Weaver]

The Music in Me

When Dani was seven years old, she came back from a sleepover at her best friend Eleanor’s house, looked up at her fathers and announced that she wanted to learn how to play the piano. “Uncle Sean has one.” She explained, her blonde hair sleep-mussed and her jaw making that stubborn shape that both Cobalt and Ben saw in the other. “He let me play on it, and it was a lot of fun. I wanna learn!”

Cobalt and Ben exchanged an affectionately exasperated glance before Ben knelt down in front of her. “We’ll get you lessons if you like, honey, but you’ll have to practice. It won’t be instantly easy.”

“I know.” She said, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “But someday I’ll get really good and then play for you and Daddy!” She looked up at her parents and smiled widely. “Won’t that be fun?”

Ben looked up at Cobalt and they knew they had lost.

-

They didn’t buy her a piano because pianos were expensive and they were secretly convinced she would lose interest within a week. They did, however, buy her an electronic keyboard and set it up in her room. She was so excited, she forgot to use her “indoor voice” for the rest of the day. Cobalt and Ben didn’t say anything this time, but she spent about forty minutes banging cheerfully on her new instrument and Ben had to make an emergency trip to the store to buy Advil.

-

“This is all your fault.”

A few years ago, this would have been said with probably more vitriol than strictly necessary. And probably would have resulted in a one-sided argument. Instead, Cobalt shot Sean a crooked grin and took another sip of his coffee. Sean looked up from his pie. “I can empathize with your plight, and I do, while simultaneously not apologizing for having a piano. She'll get bored with it soon, and until then, I'll buy you a white noise machine."

Cobalt laughed. “This is worse than when she learned how to work the radio.” Learned how to work the volume button was far more accurate. “At least she’s enjoying herself. We bought her a book and she’s taking lessons. Although she likes to write her own music more.” Cobalt shook his head, smiling. “I don’t know where she got the performing streak from.”

-

Eventually, Dani did get tired of the piano, and the little keyboard sat in the far corner mostly forgotten. Even when she moved out, however, neither one of her parents could find it in them to throw it out.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

That Was Your Mother

It had been Sean’s idea to host a support group for the pregnant fathers. He had enrolled in Lamaze classes as a method of socialization as well as for help coping; he’d made several new friends, but, no matter the camaraderie and good advice he gained from the teacher and the other students, he had to accept that their situations were fundamentally different.

All of the books on pregnancy were helpful in some ways, but he and all of the other pregnant fathers were forging new territory. Finally, after discussing the matter with Josh, he’d decided that he should start a weekly support group.

And, after learning of, not only Evan’s but also Moe’s, Robbie’s, Sam’s and Zac’s pregnancies, he decided that it would be best to make it “adults only.” He did float the idea of having a support group for the students at Hammel, and he’d also, on Evan’s behalf, suggested that making the boy live with Robbie, Sam, and Zac was inhumane, but nobody had listened to him. Still, for the comfort of all of the adult men, and also for the sake of propriety given his and Chase’s positions at Hammel, he thought it necessary to make it an adult space.

For convenience, the telepath had opted to host the support group at his house; it was large enough to accommodate all of the adults, and the cul-de-sac boasted no Hammel students or immediate family of Hammel students, which provided privacy. Sean had a well-stocked refrigerator for snacks, and he and Josh had agreed that the attorney would find somewhere to go for the couple of hours each week to give them the space.

Riley and Griff had agreed readily to attend the support group; both men thought they would benefit from it, and they were gentle and friendly, even with the emotional turmoil of their pregnancies. Cobalt’s agreement had been more reluctant, born from a combination of sheer curiosity and his somewhat shameful desire to be around those with shared experiences, because this situation was perplexing and terrifying. Chase...nobody had asked Chase why he had come, given his volatility, but it was assumed that James had struck a bargain with the trainer. Sean had better information than many others about the Campbell domestic situation, but it wasn’t his information to divulge.

Riley typically baked for the support group; rather, he tended to bake all of the time now, but he brought cookies, pies, or cupcakes with him to the meetings. Sean brewed tea for everyone, and the men settled in the living room to sit on overstuffed armchairs and sofas to discuss anything even tangentially related to their pregnancies.

Physical symptoms, emotional turbulence, hopes, fears, dreams, gripes about their respective partners, any articles about babies or child-rearing, even strange dreams were all fair game for conversation. The only rules were that nobody was to directly attack anyone else, and that there was to be no judgment; Sean wanted this to be a safe space. Additionally, everything discussed was confidential between support group members; that way, nobody needed to worry about secrets revealed or that the occasional gripe about a partner would find its way back to him.

Without fail, Sean was always the person in the best mood at the support group meetings.

Admittedly, he didn’t have much competition. Cobalt was in a perpetual state of anger; he used that to mask his anxiety about the pregnancy, and he wasn’t above punching people or taking out that anger in other physical ways. Riley was constantly on the verge of tears; even when he arrived with a smile on his face, invariably something would set him off, and he would begin to cry. If someone sat in his preferred chair, he cried. If his tea was too hot and he burned his tongue, he cried. If Cobalt was too angry and lashed out at anyone in the group at all, he cried. Griff tried to comfort him, but the Welsh doctor was a bundle of anxiety himself. The pregnancy provided a new outlet for his hypochondria, and every meeting he brought information he’d found on WebMD or in one of his medical books. Always some form of birth defects or a condition afflicting pregnant mothers. His anxiety was tempered with the morbid curiosity about medical matters, but invariably, he believed that he or the child he carried had one of those ailments. More than once, he managed to convince others as well.

And Chase grew more emotionally unstable with each passing day. Fortunately, Sean had strong mental shields and didn’t have to worry about the mind controller’s powers gone berserk. Unfortunately for the rest of the support group, Sean was the only one who had such protections. Thankfully, outbursts tended to be rare as long as Chase was fed and comfortable; Riley’s baked goods helped. Giving Chase a wide berth helped.

Once again, it was that day of the week, when their support group met. Sean had ordered pizzas, perhaps more than usual but they were eating for ten, and he’d also procured different fresh fruits since he cared enough about nutrition to want to help the other fathers, particularly when he knew that Cobalt was bad about vegetables without prompting. Josh had helped take the plates out of the cupboards to spare Sean the stretching and the strain, and then the attorney had left to give them privacy.

One by one (except for Riley and Griff who arrived together), the other pregnant men found their way into the living room. Tea, pizza, and salad were served, as well as Riley’s rainbow cookies.

“I miss sleeping with James,” Chase groused almost as soon as he was settled in one of the armchairs. “I can’t sleep lying down anymore.”

Cobalt didn’t see what the problem was; he barely slept, and his sleeping had been even worse since his pregnancy. But nobody heard him complain about it.

Which might be the only thing he didn’t complain about...at the support group. Ben had to deal with it on a daily basis, but Ben wasn’t here.

“Have you tried buying a husband?” Griff asked. That earned a confused look from both Chase and Cobalt, and the Welshman blushed. “It’s a pillow. With arms on the side. It could help you prop yourself up in bed.”

“Pillows don’t work,” Chase replied with a shake of his head.

“This is a special kind of pillow,” Griff countered. Riley nodded his agreement; they had one at their house, and it was very comfortable.

“Pillow don’t work,” Chase whined, which caused Griff to inch closer to Riley; the large landscaper wrapped an arm protectively around his partner.

Sean increased his mental shields a tad, just in case. He then took a sip of his tea and asked, “Have you asked James to sleep in the living room with you? He could sleep on the sofa so you aren’t alone.”

“That’s not the same thing,” Chase sighed. “Plus, he has trouble sleeping on couches.”

Many people did, and James’s OCD certainly made that more difficult. Once again, Griff and Riley were grateful to have each other, as well as Danny. Sean was grateful he’d found a position in bed and a balance of pillows that allowed him to sleep beside Josh with minimal difficulty, even if his insomnia took hold at inconvenient times.

Cobalt was grateful that Ben had learned to shut up and stop asking him about whether he was tired.

“I learned this exercise in Lamaze the other day that might take some pressure off your back,” Sean offered.

“I don’t know how you can go to that. It’s not like you’re going to have a natural birth,” Cobalt said. He thought it was weird that the telepath had signed up for Lamaze classes full of women half his age. There was nothing that could get the attorney to attend one of those.

Sean had been alone in that endeavor; he also felt no embarrassment for it. Shrugging slightly, he said, “It’s good physical conditioning, and it has some interesting tips about pregnancy and parenting. Besides, the women are all very nice and non-judgmental.”

“How can they be non-judgmental? You’re a fifty-something-year-old man!” Admittedly, Cobalt didn’t know Sean’s precise age, but that didn’t delegitimize his point.

“We’re all first-time parents,” Sean replied with another shrug.

Feeling awkward and wanting to diffuse the situation, since he didn’t like watching anyone fight, Riley said, “Who wants a cookie? Sean? Cobalt? Let me get you some...”

“Nobody wants a Goddamned cookie,” Cobalt snapped, not thinking before the words left his mouth.

Almost as soon as they had, the telltale sniffling began. Cobalt grimaced and turned towards the other man. “...I didn’t mean that.”

But it was too late. Tears welled up in Riley’s eyes and began to fall. “I was just trying to be nice,” he sobbed. “I don’t like it when you fight.”

Griff immediately wrapped his other arm around Riley, pulling him into a tight hug. Sean rose from his chair with a bit of difficulty to refill Riley’s teacup. Chase glared at Cobalt for making Riley cry.

And Cobalt sank into his chair and asked himself why he came to these in the first place.