IN THE NAME OF THE FATHER

Story Three in the Full Circle Trilogy

Naomi was actually nervous.

No, maybe excited was more accurate – nervously excited. Her family was coming home and she, the woman who used to travel constantly, who could go weeks without talking to her son and months without seeing him, was now on pins and needles because they'd been gone for three weeks.

It had been hell without her family.

She smiled even as she tapped her foot restlessly. Their plane was due any minute and she couldn't wait to see them again, to see her son's beautiful face and to hear "my nomi!" from her beloved grandson.

People started to stand up around her and she craned her neck to see… and there was the plane, just taxiing up to the gate. She rose quickly, pulled her purse up to her shoulder and moved to the side of the door. She wasn't worried; she knew Jim would know exactly where she was.

A moment later the gate door was opened and after that, it didn't take long for people to begin to stream down the long tube that led from the plane to the airport. Her family should be one of the first off, thanks to the first class tickets – and sure enough, there was Jim, a head taller than everyone else.

And in his arms – her grandson.

Her Jake.

Two other passengers moved to the right and she could finally see her son, face upturned in order to look at Jake, who was laughing. She watched as Jim whispered something to Jake and he turned quickly in Jim's arms. Suddenly Naomi was waving and Jake was bouncing and waving back and she knew he was saying it, saying, "my nomi!" and her smile widened.

It didn't take long for her to have an armful of him as Eskimo and butterfly kisses were traded off in spite of the fact that Jake never stopped talking. She missed most of what he was saying due to trying to catch Jim's words and her son's.

"… Simon? I thought…."

"… and you can see my 'cacha and my crown and my medallion…."

"… Mom, it's great to see you. Wait until you see what Jake brought you…."

"… and my beach, but i said good-bye real good an' saw a whale and we went to a farmy market but there weren't any pigs or…."

"… where are you parked, Naomi? You can take Jake while Sandburg and I...."

"Whoa, everyone," Blair finally said in a voice that could be heard over Jake's and Jim's. "Let's calm down and take a seat over there so mom and Jake can have a few moments."

Laughing delightedly, Naomi said, "Good idea, sweetie."

Jake was immediately exchanged and bounced into Naomi's arms where more Eskimo kisses were repeated. They sat down and, as Jake settled himself on her lap, Naomi observed, "You're all so tan. Very Southern Californian."

Jim managed to preen without appearing to do so which solicited a round of laughter from Blair. "Oh, yeah, mom, we're tan all right. Jake and Jim have also sprouted a few new freckles too."

Naomi immediately began to inspect Jake's face, her fingers tracing over the trail of cute brown spots that bridged her grandson's nose. "Jake, you do have freckles now… and I count… twelve."

He grinned and pointed to his other father. "poppy too! Count poppy's too, my nomi!"

Jim, looking askance at the suggestion, instinctively leaned back even as Blair said, "Don't worry, Mom. Jim has exactly nine new freckles on his – face." His smirk was huge.

"TMI, boys," Naomi said, laughing.

Getting up, Jim said, "Okay, enough of this freckle thing. Let's get our luggage and get home. I need to do laundry and we all need to unpack, and—"

Blair clamped a hand over Jim's mouth. "Yadda-yadda. Once an anal ex-military man, always an anal ex-military man."

The drive home was made with a great deal of chatter as each of her "boys" took turns telling her about their vacation. She drove carefully as she listened, nodded, and oohed and aahed at the appropriate times. Jake, the plane trip home being his most recent memory, waxed poetic over the restroom and the dishes, and the stewardesses even though "my kathy" had given way to "my gail". He managed to dive into his backpack and pull out Zero and his doom buggy souvenir as well as his medallion proclaiming him King of Disneyland. Jim, at Jake's urging, pulled the cartoon drawing of the three of them from his pack and, while stopped at a light, let Naomi see it. She was thrilled and Jake magnanimously offered it to her even though it wasn't her "official" gift.

"Oh, Jake, thank you. I love it. I'll hang it in the living room as soon as I get home, okay?"

"oh, goody, my nomi. then i can see it every time i come over, can't i?"

"You sure can. And I love all your goodies and can't wait to see the rest."

"Did Simon say anything more about what was going on at the station?" Jim asked as he placed a hand on a jiggling Jake who was starting to act like a dog who could smell how close he was getting to home.

"No, only that he'd call and try to make it for your homecoming dinner."

"Jim, I don't think there's anything to worry about—"

"I know, Chief, I know. I just—"

"I know," Blair said as he grinned into the rearview mirror before turning his attention back to his mother. "So, did you and Simon get together at all while we were gone?"

"Oh, that was subtle, Chief," Jim said from the back seat.

"That's okay, Jim," Naomi said as she exited the freeway. "I can be just as subtle. Maybe we did and maybe we didn't."

As Jim burst out laughing, Blair simply rolled his eyes.

The luggage had been put in their respective rooms for unpacking and Jake was on the couch having just run back in following a quick "hello" to his courtyard and the koi. He'd also said an equally quick and joyous hello to his room, the kitchen, the living room and all his left-behind toys. Jim was busy unpacking and gathering dirty clothes for the laundry while Blair helped Jake with all their vacation goodies so Naomi could see everything.

When the phone rang, Jim called out from the bedroom, "I've got it, Chief."

Blair eyed his mother knowingly and said, "Simon." A few moments later, his prediction was proven accurate.

"Simon won't make it tonight either," Jim announced as he walked in, arms full of dirty clothes.

Turning around on the couch so he could see his partner, Blair said, "Is everything—"

"Everything is fine. He's just bogged down in paperwork to the commissioner. He'll be here on Sunday though, as planned. He also said to say hi to you, Naomi." With that, Jim headed for the laundry room, his nose wrinkled up.

Grinning, Blair shook his head and muttered, "Neat freak."

"I heard that, Chief."

"a'course you did, poppy!"

Naomi and Blair started laughing.

For their private welcome home dinner (the big one being on Sunday), Naomi had made Jake's favorite meal of pork chops resting atop baked macaroni and cheese. Once seated at the dining room table, everyone dug in. Jake had already talked to both Corky and Cherry and promises had been exchanged regarding a play date at the park on Sunday after church. Now bathed and wearing his special Disneyland sweats, Jake was happily scarfing down his dinner while he listened – and occasionally added – to Jim and Blair's account of their vacation.

"You outdid yourself on this one, Naomi," Jim said after sipping his wine. "El Moro was lovely, Laguna a dream, and Jake has become a darn fine junior surfer. Sandburg, on the other hand—"

"Don't even start, Jim. I feel the same way about surfing that I feel about chasing a small white ball around greens and fairways. Give me basketball every time."

"Spoilsport," Jim groused.

Naomi looked over at Jake, who was grinning from ear to ear. Apparently this discussion was old hat to him and one that he enjoyed. She winked at him and grinned when – in an effort to wink back – both his eyes crinkled up and his nose wiggled.

"It's not like we don't play b-ball together, Jim. I don't think we need to surf together too. We work out, I ride the cart with you when you feel the need to hit that tiny ball around, so let me enjoy *not* surfing, okay?"

Jim made a yapping motion with his hand and stuffed a piece of roll in Blair's mouth. That meant revenge and Naomi could see where her lovely meal was going. She decided to put a stop to it before the dining room became a food fight war zone.

"So, Jake, tell me all about The Lion King. How were the seats?"

That was all it took to involve all three of her men. Satisfied, she sat back to listen. She really was getting good at this family thing.

"He's asleep," Blair said with a happy sigh. "Man, it feels good to be home."

Jim, flat on his back on the couch, socked feet wiggling his agreement, said, "Mmm."

"Well said, Jimbo. Well said."

"Your mom did a great job on dinner."

"Yeah, she's really got it down, doesn't she?"

"Yep. Vegetarian or no, she cooks up a mean pork chop." As Blair walked by on his way to the bookshelves, Jim snagged his shirt hem and pulled him down on top of him. "There, that's much better. Now I really know I'm home."

"I'm guessing reading is out, huh?"

"Oh, yeah. Let's just … veg out, okay? Enjoy the sounds of our home."

"I'm down with that."

Jim began to massage Blair's scalp while playing with his hair at the same time. Relaxed, both simply enjoyed the warmth and scent of the other.

Simon stared at the set, not really seeing the television show currently unfolding. He felt terrible and cowardly but since he knew he'd have to face them on Sunday – and tell them what was going on -- he could live with the cowardice for one day and let them have the goddamned weekend. The whole mess would be dealt with soon enough, especially with two FBI agents in the wings – waiting for clearance from their boss, a friend of Simon's, to make a trip to Cascade.

"God, let there be proof of Jake's heritage and that he's where he belongs," he said quietly. Slowly he reached out and picked up the phone. He had a sudden burning need to hear Daryl's voice.

Jake was up bright and early Saturday morning, begging for Mickey Mouse waffles. Blair, snuggled down under the covers with only his hair showing, reached one arm out from under the comforter and, hand on Jake's shoulder, broke the bad news. "Hoss, we don't have the right kind of waffle iron to make Mickey waffles. Sorry, buddy. Now head back to your room and play for a while so that we can get a few more hours sleep. It's only six."

Finger to his lower lip, Jake said, "oh. no mickey waffler, daddy?"

"That's right," Blair murmured from under the covers.

Sly grin in place, Jake said, "so then… mickey pancakes, right, daddy?"

"Right, fine, but later, Jake," Blair reiterated around a yawn.

"how many more hours later, daddy?"

"Two—"

"Three," the lump next to Blair said firmly.

"Three… more hours," Blair agreed.

Jake held up one finger. "this many more hours?"

Blair peeked out from under the covers, shook his head, and with his hand, brought up two more of Jake's fingers. "This many, Hoss."

Jake dropped one finger. "this many, daddy?"

"Jake…."

The warning in Blair's voice was not lost on his son. "okay," he said as he popped up the other finger. "this many more hours." He looked longingly at the big bed and his parents, but when no invitation to climb in was forthcoming, he decided to take a more … direct approach. He tiptoed around to the end of the bed, lifted the blankets… and crawled under. Fortunately, his poppy was lying on his right side, back facing his daddy's, so there was just enough room for one little boy. He wiggled his way up to his parents, curled up against his daddy's back and, grinning, closed his eyes.

He loved a successful mission.

Blair felt the warmth of a body behind him and smiled into his pillow. There would come a time when Jake wouldn't dream of crawling into bed with them so Blair had every intention of enjoying those times when he did. The bed shifted, telling him that Jim was turning over. A moment later, Jake and Blair were being held in place by one long, tan arm.

Blair went back to sleep.

Blair watched Jake shovel syrupy mouse-shaped pancakes into his mouth, his son's joy and happiness obvious. He looked around the sunny kitchen and thought that while their little piece of heaven on the water in California had been wonderful, it was great to be home. Jim had the paper spread out in front of him, one eye on taking in the local news, the other on Jake. Occasionally he'd reach over and lift Jake's napkin in order to remind him to use it and Jake would giggle and take a half-hearted swipe at his face.

Blair smiled softly. Mornings were the best. He sipped his coffee and munched on a slice of bacon, content to watch his family.

"So what do we do today, guys?" Jim asked from his spot on the couch.

Jake looked up from his coloring book, yawned, and said, "nuttin'?"

Blair, glasses on and a book in his lap, nodded his agreement. "I think nothing sounds darn good. Save the shopping for tomorrow. Except, maybe, later, we could take a run to the beach? Maybe a picnic dinner while enjoying the sunset?"

Jake's head shot up. "beach? picnicky?"

"That's what I'm thinking," Blair mused.

"i could do that – i could." Jake twisted around to look at his other father. "poppy?"

"Do we take the hibachi or go the sandwich route?" Jim asked.

"Jake?"

Jake pondered the choice and finally said, "tuny samwitches with the leftover mac 'n cheesy."

Since they hadn't done any real shopping yet, Blair and Jim nodded gratefully. Tuna they had and sandwiches they could easily do, which meant no need to make a run to the grocery store. Blair shot Jim a look that said he should have thought of that *before* suggesting the hibachi. They were lucky Jake wanted the tuna.

"Okay, sandwiches it is," Jim said, enunciating the word for his son's benefit even though Jake knew exactly how to say the word correctly.

"I vote we add fruit and chocolate chip cookies to the menu," Blair offered, knowing full well it would meet with his son's approval.

That was all it took to get Jake up off the floor and jumping up and down. "yippeeee! choco-chippy cookies!"

"Gee, Chief, I think he's down with your choice for our picnic."

"Certainly looks that way," Blair agreed, glasses resting on the tip of his nose.

"Juice," Jim said as he handed off a couple of single-serving cartons of apple juice.

"How many do we have left?"

"This is it."

"Okay, I'll put that on the shopping list too, then," Blair said as he put the juices in the picnic bag. "Any soda or tea?"

Jim reached down to the bottom shelf of the fridge and held up two cans of iced tea. "This is it."

"I'll drink them. What about you?"

"Very funny, Chief." He tossed the cans to Blair, who caught them and added them to their picnic stash.

Blair chuckled and said, "Tell me there's some bottled water left?"

"Yeah, we've got eight. Bring three?"

"Definitely. Toss 'em over."

One at a time, the blue bottles of Dasani flew through the air to be deftly caught by Blair, who tucked them into the side of the bag.

"Okay, that's it, dinner is packed and ready to go," Blair announced as he zipped up the bag.

Jim looked over at the large thermos in the cupboard and said, "What about bringing some hot chocolate?"

"Great idea. Good thing Naomi thought of providing milk for us until we could get to the store."

"Yep. Okay, let's do it."

Blair got out the Droste's cocoa and the saucepan while Jim got out the milk and sugar. It only took a few extra minutes to make enough to satisfy the three of them later at the beach and when it was ready, Jim poured it into the large thermos while Blair reopened the bag and added hot/cold plastic cups.

Once the thermos was sealed, Blair asked, "You got everything else, right?"

"Already in the car, Chief."

"Son?"

"In the courtyard, hopping around from foot to foot and muttering about how the ocean might go away if we don't hurry up."

Laughing, Blair picked up the picnic bag and said, "Well, we'd better get the lead out, then."

"Right behind you, Chief, right behind you." As they walked out, Jim added, "And man, the view is great."

Jim spread the blanket out and it had no sooner settled than their son had planted himself smack dab in the middle of it. Looking up charmingly, he said, "eat now?"

"We've gone wrong somewhere, Sandburg," Jim said as he sat down beside his son.

"Oh, I don't know, you're hungry, aren't you?"

"I lost this one, didn't I?"

"yup!"

Jim grabbed the bag and, after a quick tickle raid on his son, started to spread out their goodies. He handed Jake and Blair a plate and napkin, then double checked the wrapped sandwiches so that he could make sure Jake got the plain tuna and not the ones with chopped onions and celery. After each of them had their sandwiches, he passed out the foil packets of macaroni and cheese, the plastic forks, the fruit cups and finally the drinks.

The beach was dotted with a few families, all with the same idea as the Ellison-Sandburg-Porter household: to watch the sunset and enjoy a family meal. There were a few surfers out on the water, all in wetsuits, and Blair wondered if Jim were wishing he'd brought his board. At the moment, the man in question was helping Jake trim his sandwich of its crust and didn't look the least bit sorry about leaving said board at home.

"Uhm, Jake? Why no crust?" Blair had to ask.

The boy, busy watching Jim neatly removing the offenders, shrugged and said with a scrunched up face, "icky tonight."

"Ah, of course," Blair said, remembering when crusts had become "icky" for him.

Eventually Jake made his way to his father's lap and, while resting against Blair's chest, munched contentedly while watching the setting sun and a sky that was marked with magenta, pink and yellow streaks any artist would have envied.

When the fruit, sandwiches and macaroni were gone, they relaxed for a while before digging into the cookies. Eventually a cool breeze came up, but they'd brought jackets and extra blankets. It was a simple matter to wrap Jake up and thus continue to enjoy the early evening, the sound of the waves, and the gulls overhead. Occasionally a pelican or two could be seen and Jake would bounce within the blanket and point out his "pelys".

Jim decided it was time for the hot chocolate and pulled out the cups and thermos. Jake was quiet, comfortable and cuddly, so when Jim tapped him on the shoulder and held out the drink, Jake's eyes did a nice imitation of flying saucers.

"hot choc-o-latty?"

"You got it, Hoss."

Jake pulled one hand out from under the blanket and took the just-his-size cup. He sniffed, closed his eyes and gave out with a happy little, "mmmmm". Laughing, Jim handed off a cup to Blair before pouring for himself.

"Now this hits the spot, Jim."

"i 'gree, daddy. my spot is hit goooood."

Blair turned his head enough to see Jim, who, grinning, simply shook his head and then moved up and, with a little adjustment, had Blair and Jake between his legs. They continued to drink cocoa and watch their ocean.

"but poppy—"

"No buts, young man. It's bedtime. Tomorrow we have to go to the store and then you have a play date with Corky and Cherry, followed by a big dinner with the family. Now, into bed with you."

Jake reluctantly shuffled out of his robe, which Jim took and dropped over Jake's desk chair. He watched as Jake climbed into his race car bed. "i still don't think it's fair. i stayed up later in caly-fornia."

"That's because you were on vacation, Hoss," Jim said as he tucked Jake in and bent down for a kiss.

Jake giggled as Jim appeared to have trouble finding his nose and finally had to hold his father's head so they could exchange their usual nose-rubbing kiss. Laughing, Jim straightened and said, "Daddy'll be here in a second, okay, Hoss?"

Before Jake could answer, Blair walked in and said, "Is there a Jake around here somewhere?"

"nope," Jake said as he promptly pulled the covers up over his head.

"Jim, did you lose Jake again?"

"Evidently, Chief. Evidently."

"Well, do me a favor, when you find him, let me know, okay? I need to kiss him goodnight."

"Will do, Chief."

The covers were instantly thrown off as Jake sat up and said, "i'm here, i'm here, daddy!"

"Wow, Jim, that was fast," Blair said as he approached the bed. "You're good."

Jim buffed his nails and said, "Yeah, I know."

Jake huffed and held out his arms. Blair lifted him, kissed his soft cheek and enjoyed the sudden hug Jake gave him. When he let go, Jake turned and held out his arms to Jim, who took him easily and got a giant hug of his own.

"we had a gooood time at the beachy, didn't we, poppy?"

"Yes, we did. As much fun as our California beach?"

Jake chewed on his bottom lip in thought and finally happily said, "yup!"

Laughing, Jim and Blair tucked him back into bed, exchanged more kisses and finally got the light turned out.

They walked back out into the living room and while Jim dropped down onto the couch and picked up the remote, Blair went into the kitchen to brew some tea. When he came out, he had two mugs and the shopping list.

"Chief?"

"Tea, a little television, and then we finish off the list for tomorrow."

"Ah, such scintillating tasks."

"The life of happy parents – and hot lovers."

Jim frowned. How the hell had he become the Master of the Cart? He watched absently as Jake flitted back and forth and from shelf to shelf, lifting items he could reach to see if Blair needed it. When Blair shook his head, Jake simply grinned and quipped, "'kay!" before running off to another shelf. With a bit more interest, he shifted his attention from Jake to Blair, who was reaching up for a can of tomato paste.

"Hey, what do you think about molasses in the beans?"

"Dad loves 'em that way. Let's go for it."

Blair nodded and a bottle of blackstrap molasses joined the other items in their cart. Jake jumped up so that he could balance on the bottom of the cart, fingers gripping the top as he peered over the edge. "not enough… cookies. need more cookies," he noted with a firm nod of his head.

"Oh, really? I think animal crackers and Oreos are more than enough, young sir," Blair said as he added hamburger buns.

Jake looked back inside and shook his head again. "nononono, must have figgy newtons!"

Jim plucked him up and set him back down in the front of the cart (God bless the man or woman who invented the child seat for supermarkets -- and why was it okay, but a stroller wasn't, he wondered as he said to Jake, "We can get Fig Newtons, but only if we put either the animal crackers or the Oreos back. So which one?"

Jake looked thoughtfully at the cookies … and finally said, "nope – keep both and get figgys."

"Dream on, Hoss," Jim said with a smile as he pushed along behind Blair.

"The good news is that we'll have angel food cake with strawberries for dessert when your grandpa and Nomi come over," Jim reassured.

"don't forget unca simon!"

"Would never forget him, Hoss," Blair assured him as he dropped more "stuff" into the cart.

"good!"

"Detective Sandburg? Detective Ellison?"

Both men turned at the sound of the voice while Jake tried to peek around his father.

"Mr. Sabotini," Blair said, surprised.

"I thought we'd agreed on Carl by now?"

"Sorry… Carl," Blair amended with a grin.

"hi!"

Carl grinned at Jake as he came abreast them and immediately held out his hand, palm up so that Jake could high-five him, which he did.

"How you doing, Jake?"

"i be very fine!"

"Good. That's some tan you've got, young man. Leftover from your vacation?"

Jake nodded and pointed to his face. "more freckles too."

Laughing, Carl said, "I noticed. Very nice look." He turned to Blair. "I'm picking up a few items for a friend who's a bit under the weather. Amazing running into you three here."

"Especially since this isn't exactly in your neighborhood, Mr. Sabotini," Jim said dryly.

"No, but it's in my friend's neck of the woods. He lives over on Austin. Ex-fireman, injured on the job a few months ago."

Blair frowned in thought and said, "Uhm, you wouldn't be talking about Bob Carlos, would you?"

Looking surprised, Carl nodded. "Yes, why, do you know him?"

"As a matter of fact, we do. We met him in June through mutual friends," Blair answered.

"Small world," Carl said with a disarming smile.

During the discussion, Jake's head had been zipping back and forth between his father and Sabotini and now he piped up with, "been there, done that, but would do it again."

Surprised, all three men looked at Jake, but it was Blair who, chuckling, said, l"He means—"

"It's a Small World at—"

"Disneyland," Sabotini finished for Jim, who'd been finishing for Blair.

"yay, dizzyland!"

"I have to agree with you there, Jake. It's one of my favorite places on earth. I knew you'd have a great time. What was your favorite ride?"

Jake gave that some deep thought before wisely saying, "all of them!"

"Ah, yes, yes, good choice," Carl said with a chuckle.

Jim watched the exchange, his usual unease around the man very much in evidence at the moment. And yet, there again was this feeling of liking him. Today he was dressed very casually in a dark blue turtleneck sweater and jeans. His hair, usually perfectly groomed, was now windblown, the short curls forming an erratic display around his head. He managed to look both distinguished, relaxed and oddly youthful at the same time.

Jim might have to start an active hate towards the man, especially given the way he was currently looking at Blair.

"Would you three consider joining me for lunch at Ciro's? I'm stopping there after I'm finished here since Bob won't be back from his physical therapist visit – a very nice man who takes him on Sundays -- until two."

"I don't—"

"yup!"

"We'd love to—"

Jim sighed. He'd lost again, but he was nothing if not a gracious loser. As long as it wasn't Blair he was losing. "I'm thinking," he amended with a wry grin, "that we'd love to join you, Mr. Sabotini. But we'll have to eat and run as we have a play date to get young Jake here to."

"Ah, of course. Well, I'm almost finished," he held up the hand-basket, "so how 'bout I get us a nice table outside under the big elm while you finish up here?"

"That would be great, Carl," Blair said. "We'll need to get the groceries home too."

"Of course. So see you in, say, thirty minutes or so?"

"Sounds good."

Carl smiled at Blair again and held out his hand to Jake, who shook it very formally before ruining it with a giggle. Chuckling, Carl moved down the aisle to turn toward the checkout stands.

"What else is on the list, Sandburg," Jim asked.

"We need a few items from the produce section and we'll be done."

"Produce section? Sandburg, we went down that aisle first."

"Ye-ah, but the lettuce and stuff is at the bottom of the list, Jim."

Jim stared open-mouthed at him… until Jake reached up and tapped his chin. He slammed his mouth shut only to open it again to say, "Chief, you never cease to amaze me."

Grinning like a loon, Blair said, "Thanks, man."

Shaking his head, Jim continued to follow Blair.

Thanks to Jim's clever thinking, all the cold or frozen items were bagged together so it was a simple matter to grab them and head into the Anjasmayo while Blair and Jake remained in the car. Jim was back and sliding into the driver's seat in less than ten minutes.

"Not bad," Blair noted.

"Hey, when you're good, you're good. I'm good."

Blair just whistled. Annoyingly.

Ciro's was only another ten minutes south of the Anjasmayo and, based on the rumblings coming from Jake's stomach, this was a good thing. Jim pulled into the parking lot and a few moments later they were walking into the restaurant.

Jim spotted Sabotini and immediately steered his family toward the patio.

"You made good time," Carl said as he stood and, with a grin, pointed to the booster seat for Jake.

"Jim's a whiz at putting the cold stuff away," Blair said with a smile as he watched Jake climb onto the chair and the booster.

"That's me, a whiz," Jim said as he sat next to Blair.

Blair looked at him strangely – a look Jim returned nonchalantly.

Carl chose to ignore it and said to Jake, "Have you eaten here before, Jake?"

Jake nodded happily and said, "i always have the barbeeeecued chicken pizza with lots of cheeeeeesey."

"Sounds delicious. I may have to try it today," Carl said with a smile.

Jim sat back, feeling vaguely uncomfortable as he listened to Carl, Jake and Blair talk. He watched, fascinated, as Carl made sure to include Jake in everything – and when Jim allowed it – him too. The man was the epitome of charm and -- damn it – likeable.

At that moment, Carl and Blair laughed at something Jake said and the world stopped as Jim's stomach fell to his feet. He was listening to a sound he knew better than any other, only it was coming to him in stereo.

Without conscious thought, he focused his senses, all but touch, on the man next to Blair, his mind screaming that what he'd heard was something impossible, something his mind would ultimately refuse to acknowledge. But he was more than a sentinel, he was also a detective and detectives looked for evidence. Lots of evidence. Consciously or unconsciously.

Sense of smell.

The skin of all humans held a scent that could drive Jim crazy or make him feel incredibly good. Jake's natural scent left him feeling warm, protective and very fatherly. Blair's said home, love, safety and, yes, on a purely base level – a really good time in bed – okay, the best ever time in bed. Naomi's scent was similar to Blair's – albeit feminine and without the sexual overtones. There was a familiarity to her scent that could, in Blair's absence, put him at ease.

So … Carl Sabotini.

Jim used everything Blair had ever taught him to begin the process of filtering out all the layered scents: the restaurant, his family's scents, Sabotini's deodorant, mouthwash, aftershave, scents of others that clung to the clothing….

And there it was….

No… wrong. That was… Sandburg.

No.

No.

Not Blair. Not….

Blair.

And yet….

Blair.

Jim blinked – and blinked again.

He sniffed.

He ignored Blair's look and sniffed again.

"Uhm, Jim? Something wrong?"

Jim turned his head, blinked at Blair, and repeated dully, "Something wrong?"

Blair leaned in and hissed, "You're sniffing."

Hauling himself back to the present, Jim said lamely, "Sorry, must be something in the kitchen."

Blair, as unobtrusively as possible, slid his hand under the table, rested it lightly on Jim's thigh, and smiled. For a moment, the smile dazzled Jim, almost blinding him with its beauty. Because it was for him.

He sighed happily, completely forgetting for a moment why the hand was on his thigh, let alone why he'd been the recipient of that sudden smile.

"Perhaps it's the garlic?"

Jim blinked, smiled, and said, "You know garlic doesn’t bother me, Chief."

The silence that greeted his pronouncement puzzled him. He looked at his partner, who was staring at him now with worry, and he looked at Jake, whose head was tilted at an angle, and finally, he looked at Carl Sabotini.

And realized that it had been the latter that had asked the question.

Holyshit.

He gripped Blair's hand under the table and, with a bright, cheery, and totally false smile, said, "Sorry, Carl, I wasn't really paying attention. And no, it's not the garlic. Maybe they were burning something – or -- something."

"I'm sure that was it," Carl said, his surprised expression telegraphing the fact that he was shocked by Jim's use of his first name.

Feeling as though his world had been rocked to its foundation, Jim nevertheless attempted to bring the lunch back into the realm of normalcy. Not an easy feat. But then, there was Jake.

"poppy, they didn't burn my pizzy-pizza, did they?"

"No, son, they didn't burn your … pizzy-pizza."

"okey-dokey!" he said happily before turning to Carl and saying, "have you ever been on spacey mountain?"

The rest of the lunch flew by in a blur of denial for Jim. His senses, operating without his permission, were cataloguing the man next to Jake and sending up affirmative signals that his brain continued to deny as his mind continually yelled, No!"

He was amazed his partner couldn't hear him.

He managed to speak and eat and smile even as his senses continued to tally up the insurmountable proof that his brain was refusing to accept. When the check arrived, he never even blinked when Carl reached over, flipped open the black check holder and slid his AMEX card in before closing it up.

Carl waved a hand when Blair started to object and said, "Consider it a welcome home lunch, please."

Blair glanced over at Jim, who smiled stupidly. "You okay?" he asked, worried.

"Fine, Chief. Just fine. We'd better get a move on, though. We have twenty minutes to get Jake to his play date."

Jake looked over at Carl and said, "you could come too, you could. we're going to the park and feed the ducks and play on the jungle-jimmy," he glanced at his father, "and why don't they have a play toy named after you, daddy?"

"Just lucky, I guess," Blair said with a half-smile, his attention still fixed on Jim.

"I'd love to join you, Jake, but I still have to get the groceries over to my friend's. I'll spend most of the rest of the day with him, but truth be told, I suspect both of us would rather be with you at the park."

"bring your friend!"

"Why, that's very thoughtful, Jake. But he doesn't move very well and can't really go out too much yet. He's getting better, but it'll take time."

"would you tell him me 'an' my friends will feed some duckees for him? especially the baby duckees?"

"I will do just that, Jake. And thank you for thinking of him."

The waiter returned and Carl quickly signed the credit slip before slipping the card back in his wallet. As he picked up his jacket and handed Jake's over to Blair, he said, "Would you be interested in joining me for the Kit's game next Saturday? It's a special charity game being played in the early afternoon – which would get Jake home at a reasonable hour."

Blair glanced back at Jim, who shrugged. Frowning at the apparent ease with which Jim was suddenly accepting Sabotini, Blair said, "Can we get back to you on that, Carl?"

"Of course." He pulled a small gold case from a pocket, opened it, took out a card and handed it to Blair. "My home and office number, so just let me know."

Taking it, Blair smiled, grateful beyond measure that Jake was only nodding wildly and not demanding that they go.

They all stood with Blair lifting Jake off the booster and setting him down. Carl shook hands with Blair first, then Jim. He held out his hand to Jake, who shook his head and said, "eskeeeemo kiss, please?" and promptly held up his arms.

With a surprised – and genuinely pleased – expression on his face, Carl picked him up and said, "Could you explain these 'Eskeeeemo' kisses?"

Giggling, Jake leaned in and rubbed Carl's nose joyously before leaning back in his arms and saying, "see?"

"Ah, I do indeed. This is now my all-time favorite kiss. Thank you, Jake."

"you're wulcum," Jake said as he was presented to his father.

They all walked outside and, pausing before going to the car, Blair said, "Thank you again for a great lunch, Carl. And we'll let you know about the game."

"I hope the answer is yes. And thank you for a delightful afternoon. Detective Ellison, Blair, Jake, see you later."

With that, he gave a final wave and walked in the opposite direction toward his car. Jim unlocked the F-250 and slid in while Blair got Jake settled in his car seat. Once Blair was buckled in, they headed to the park and Jake's play date.

Blair knew there was something wrong – he just didn't have a clue what it was. He kept giving Jim little side glances, but inquiring into what was bothering his partner was pretty much impossible with Jake in the back chattering away. At least Jim had been considerably nicer to Carl today – had even called him by his first name. And he hadn't shut down the idea of going to the game either. Okay, so maybe Carl had finally won him over. Which would be a good thing.

And about as likely as Jim sprouting wings.

"daddy, can i? please?"

"Uh? Wha'?"

"Good going, Sparky," Jim said with a chuckle.

Sticking his tongue out at Jim, Blair turned in his seat and said, "I'm sorry, Hoss, what did you ask?"

"can't i take my whole pack into the park? i'll take good care of it, i promuse!"

"Oh, well, I thought we agreed that Corky and Cherry would look here at the car and then you'd go play."

Jake looked down at his pack and picked at the strap as he said, "but if i have the whooooole thing, we can look at everything anytime we want, see? an' – an' – an' i could spread my stuff out, see? an' – an' – an' they could see everything real goooood, see?"

"Ah, I .. see," Blair said cleverly. "Well, since you explain it that way – I think you should take your pack with you."

"yippppeeee!"

"Good move, Chief," Jim said with a grin. "And speaking of moves, I'm going to drop you two off. I have an errand to run, but I'll be back, if that's okay with you?"

"Jim, are you—"

"Just an errand, Chief. No worries."

"Uhm… okay. We'll be here."

Jim reached over and squeezed Blair's knee. "Thanks, Chief."

Simon was torn. He somehow felt that he should warn William Ellison before the dinner. It only made sense – in a way. And yet – telling Jim's father before telling Jim was the only thing stopping him. On the other hand, William Ellison had a good many friends in very high places – and if Simon told him now – he'd have a head start on helping.

Simon looked up at the white house before him. He'd driven over still undecided, and now that he was here, the question was: should he park?

Simon parked.

He got out and walked with some hesitation up to the door. He knocked and almost prayed no one was home.

His prayers weren't answered, but then, they'd been "almost" prayers.

"Captain Banks?"

"Mr. Ellison. Do you have a few moments?"

William Ellison was instantly worried. "Is Jim—"

"Everything is fine, Mr. Ellison. But we … we need to talk before the dinner tonight."

Still worried, William stepped aside to give Simon room to enter.

Jim took the elevator up to Major Crime, and once he'd said his hellos and explained that he needed to look something up, and yes, that's why he was here on the last day of his vacation, he sat down at his desk and turned his computer on. He was going to find out everything he could about Carl Sabotini's early days.

He knew that Naomi had been in San Francisco and Berkeley in late 1968 so he'd start there. When his computer was up and running, he logged into the PD database, typed Sabotini's name into the search engine and waited. When the file came up, he printed it out and, while the printer was doing its thing, decided to see what the world wide web had to say about Sabotini.

"Hey, Jim, what're you doin' here?"

He looked up from the screen and smiled absently at Henri Brown. "Just checking on something, H."

"You do know it's Sunday, right? And you're due back here tomorrow anyway, right?"

"Thanks for that update. I'm so damn grateful," Jim said with a smile. "So what are you doing here, by the way?"

"Miller had a family emergency so I traded with him."

Henri Brown pulled his chair away from the desk and rolled it over to Jim's. He sat down and said, "So how was the trip? How did Jake like Disneyland?"

Without taking his eyes from the computer screen, Jim said, "You have to ask? He's still walking on air." He glanced up and said, "Do me a favor and grab those papers out of the printer, would you?"

"Sure, sure." Henri retrieved the papers and, walking back to the desk, whistled low. "Last I heard, the Sabotini case was long over. We got the guy, Jim, remember?"

"Laugh a minute, H. Laugh a minute."

Henri set the sheaf of papers down and sensing that Jim wanted to be alone, took his chair and went back to his desk. Jim grabbed the papers and, forgetting the information on the screen for a moment, started reading.

After ten minutes, he tossed the papers down with a disgusted sigh. There was nothing about Sabotini prior to his acquisition of Lowell, Inc. twenty years ago -- other than his birth date – April, 1945 – and sketchy information on his Italian immigrant parents. The most information available was that his father was dead and his mother living in Italy.

Jim turned his attention back to the computer screen – and five minutes later hit pay dirt.

Carl Sabotini had served in the Navy from '62 to '66 and, upon discharge (honorable), had settled in Northern California in order to attend Berkeley. He'd graduated in '70.

Bingo.

Jim sat back and stared at the screen.

The evidence was officially – overwhelming – for Jim. Oh sure, no court in the land would accept it, would, in fact, laugh at the notion that there was enough to support the claim that Carl Sabotini was….

Blair Sandburg's father.

But Jim knew. He knew because his evidence included his goddamned heightened senses.

Scent, sound, sight. Three out of five. Three out of five of his goddamned senses said, "This man is related by blood to your partner. This man is your partner's father."

He supposed there was one good thing – he had no need to be jealous because as strongly as he knew Sabotini was Blair's father, that's how strongly he knew that the man was fully aware as well. Which explained just about everything.

Jim pulled into the parking lot and swung into a space near the benches where Blair sat with Terry, Cherry's father. The two men were talking, Blair gesturing wildly. He hadn't spotted Jim yet, so he could sit in the truck and just … watch.

God, he loved Blair. Sometimes when watching him, like now, he couldn't understand how he'd let so many years go by content to be only his friend and roommate. So many moments had come and gone in those early years, moments when he'd looked into Blair's eyes and briefly allowed himself to wonder, to hope. But he'd always been quick to shut those emotions down.

But no more. No more shutting down or shutting out.

Which didn't help his current predicament. He knew something about Blair that Blair should know, and yet – and yet....

He needed to talk to Naomi. Damn, if only he could remember if they'd ever brought Carl up to her…no… well, at least he hadn't. Okay, the game had been related in all its glory by Jake, but Carl had been referred to as "daddy's friend", not by name. And hadn't the conversation been so crazy that neither he nor Blair had ever actually said the man's name? Yes, he was sure of it. So… she couldn't know.

"Yo, Jim?"

Startled, Jim turned his head only to find Blair peering at him through the truck's window. He'd been so damn deep in his thoughts, he'd missed Blair spotting him and heading over. He shook his head a bit, smiled, opened the door, and got out.

"Sorry, Chief, my mind was elsewhere."

"I guess so." Blair looked over his shoulder and into the truck. "So – what was your errand?"

"Oh… that. It wasn't … hadn't come in yet. Just something I ordered for the truck."

Blair's eyes narrowed as he looked up at him. "Jim?"

"Come on, let's go sit down and watch our son."

"Honey, would you grab his bag?"

Paul McNamara looked around him and, puzzled, said, "And where would his bag be, Cath?"

Laughing, Catherine McNamara peeked around the corner and pointed down. "Right where you put it, silly."

"Where I put it?" he said as he reached down around the chair and picked up Mark's diaper bag.

"Yes, dear, where you put it when you were getting your briefcase."

"Oh."

Laughing, Catherine ducked back into the kitchen. A moment later she walked out, Mark in one arm and two bottles in her free hand. "Here, put these in the bag and we're ready to go."

He did as asked and, grabbing the car keys from the hall table, said, "Just tell me your dad isn't barbecuing today, okay? My flight leaves at eight in the morning and I can't afford to be up all night nursing an upset stomach."

"He's not – Rick is."

Mackie paused in the doorway. "Your brother is cooking?"

Nodding as she ducked past him, she said with a grin, "I packed your Zantac in the diaper bag."

He closed and locked the door and then followed her to the car. Once a happy and chortling Mark was secured in his baby seat, Catherine slid into the front and buckled herself in. As he started to back carefully out of the driveway, she asked, "Do you have any idea how long you and Frank will be gone?"

"Not really. You know how these things go. We'll see what happens and hope for the best."

"But you two aren't exactly in agreement on what the 'best' is, are you?"

He made the right onto Mitchell and headed for the turnpike as he said, "What do you mean?"

"You won't want to take that boy from the two detectives and Frank will – if it turns out that he's the—"

"Don't go there, Cath, okay?" he asked as he glanced in the rearview mirror at his son.

She reached over and gave his leg a squeeze. "I'm sorry, hon. Let's just forget it for today and enjoy ourselves, all right?"

"Sounds like an idea – even if your brother's doing the cooking."

Simon was grateful that Sally was out shopping. He didn't think he could have handled her reaction on top of William Ellison's. He walked into the kitchen, searched for, and quickly found, a bottle of scotch. He poured two drinks and carried them back into the living room. "I think we could both use this," he said as he handed down one of them.

William took the offered glass and downed it in one shot. Putting the glass on the side table, he said, "This will kill my son, Captain Banks. If it's true, it will kill him. And … Blair. Destroy them both." He looked up, eyes dark with emotion. "It will destroy us all."

"You underestimate them, Mr. Ellison. Besides, I don't think for a moment that it's true. Jake was Karen's grandson and that's all there is to it."

"I pray you're right." He stood. "I'm going to call my lawyer."

"Mr. Ellison, Richard Doan is—"

"I understand that. But you came here today because you hoped I could help in some way, and right now, I want to make sure that Jake is *not* removed from his home during any investigation. I'm going to call in a few markers."

Simon felt relieved beyond all measure. While he was damn sure Jake would end up where he belonged: with Jim and Blair, he'd been worried sick what it would do to Jake to be removed from the safety of his home. Feeling hopeful for the first time in days, he walked back into the kitchen and got the bottle.

"So, did Cherry and Corky like all your souvenirs?" Jim asked as he opened the passenger door and lifted Jake out.

"they loved 'em, poppy! an' cherry says i'm her king forever and she loved the cindy-ella doll i brought her and cork loved the goofy hat but you saw him wearing it, an' they both were a'scared of my ghosty, poppy!"

"I bet they were," Jim said as the three of them walked into the courtyard and toward their home.

Jake skipped ahead of his parents and said, "what time will my nomi and unca simon and gampa be here?"

As Jim unlocked the front door, Blair looked at his watch and said, "Three hours, young man. So there's lots to do."

"i havta spread out my goodies, daddy! so unca simon and gampa and sally can see 'em all!"

"Well, that wasn't top on my list of things to do, but I can see its importance," he said as he urged his son inside. "However, one of the things that is at the top is a nap – for you."

Jake stopped dead. "a nap? but daddy—"

"A nap, Jake," Blair said firmly. "Right now. And when you get up, you can help form the hamburger patties and set up all your goodies on the coffee table, all right?"

A devilish glint in his eye, Jake tapped his chin and said, "could i – maybe – set up my stuff now and then take my nap? pleeeeeeze?" He held up his bag and let it swing even as he grinned hopefully.

"All right, all right. Set everything up and then into bed."

"yippppeee!" He immediately danced over to the table, plopped himself down on the floor and started pulling stuff out of his bag.

Laughing, Blair joined Jim in the kitchen.

The rest of the groceries were put away, leaving Jim and Blair free to start on the preparations for their barbecue. While Jim worked simultaneously on the potatoes for one salad and macaroni for another, Blair went to work on the beans. Thirty minutes later, Blair wiped his hands and said, "I'm going to get him to bed, be right back."

"I'll be here."

Swatting Jim on the butt, Blair walked out saying, "I know you will."

In the living room, Jake was staring at his array of "goodies", head canted to the right. Blair walked up to him and said, "Time for that nap now, Hoss."

"all done, but not sure. should my doom buggy go here," he pointed to zero, "or stay with my ghosty?"

"Hmm, that's a tough one. But … when it comes down to it … the doom buggy's his favorite mode of transportation, and where you first met him, so maybe—"

Jake nodded. "you be good, daddy. i'll leave it here." He twisted around and held up his arms.

Blair lifted him and carried him into his bedroom. "Do you need a bounce?" he asked with mock seriousness.

"i need a bounce baaaad, daddy!"

"Okay, here you go…."

He held Jake away and a few feet above the bed and, with a wink, let go.

Jake bounced happily and, giggling, kicked off his shoes. Once he stopped bouncing, Blair pulled off his shorts and dropped them over the back of the chair. In just his briefs and shirt, Jake crawled under the covers with Jakey and said, "you won't let me sleep too long, will you? i haveta help make the burgers."

"We'll wake you in time – if you don't wake up on your own. Don't worry." He leaned down and dropped a kiss on Jake's cheek and watched as Jake buried himself happily in his pillow, Jakey held close to his face.

Blair could tell Jake was tired so he backed quietly out of the room and closed the door.

Walking back into the living room, he stopped long enough to look with fondness on the coffee table and Jake's "arrangement". He actually couldn't wait to see the faces of their guests as they were taken through each and every item Jake had brought back from their vacation. With a fond shake of his head, he walked into the kitchen to join his partner.

"Fuck!"

Blair whirled around to see Jim staring down at the mess that had been a colander full of cooked pasta.

"Huh-oh," he said with a smile.

"It's not funny, Sandburg. We don't have any more macaroni."

Surprised by the gruffness in Jim's tone, Blair nevertheless walked over to the pantry, opened it, and took down a green box. He took Jim's hand and put the box into it.

"Elbow," he said.

Jim looked at the box and frowned. "But I hate elbow macaroni."

"Yeah, in macaroni and cheese, but not in macaroni salad, which is what you're making."

Jim dropped the box on the counter, stalked over to the long cupboard and took out the broom and dustpan. Blair watched, uneasily, before turning back to the beans. He didn't know what was wrong, but he'd find out later. He understood the phrase "good timing" and now, just before guests were due to arrive, would not fall under that category.

Behind him, Jim's mood translated into loudly dumping the ruined pasta, flipping the pot into the sink, filling it angrily with water (a feat that only Jim could do) and then plunking the filled pot back down on the burner. Shaking his head, Blair added the molasses to the beans and stirred it in even as he hid the smile that threatened, thanks to Jim's nonsensical mutterings.

Letting the beans simmer, he turned and said, "Want me to chop up the small pickles?"

"I can do it, Sandburg."

"I know, but in your current 'something's up and I know I'll have to eventually tell my partner' mood, you're liable to chop off a finger or two."

Jim turned slowly to face him. "There is nothing up, Chief. I'm just in one of my 'don't let him in the kitchen' moods. I have the dropsey's, as Jake likes to call it."

"Ah. Silly me. So… chop the pickles then?"

Suddenly looking sheepish, Jim shrugged and said, "Maybe you'd better."

Blair patted his cheek and took the pickles out of the fridge.

Patience his middle name, Jake waited on the bench seat of their kitchen table. Itching to make hamburgers, he kept flexing his fingers as he asked, "poppy? how soon?"

"In a minute, Hoss, hold your horses."

Jake glanced over at Jakey and tapped his nose. "he meant hold my wolfie, so don't worry, jakey."

Jim glanced over his shoulder at his son and grinned. "Thank you, Jake, that's exactly what I meant."

"i knew that," he said proudly.

Jim carried the bowl of hamburger to the table, Blair behind him with the platter. They both took their seats, the bowl now resting in front of the master burger maker.

"Okay, Jake, you ready?" Blair asked.

"yup! i'm gonna make the bestest burgers in the whole world," he said as he got up on his knees.

"All right, dig in, and remember what poppy told you about mixing lightly."

"i will." With that, Jake reached in with both hands and began to mix the meat, which had mustard, seasonings, and steak sauce on top.

After several minutes of fun, Jim said, "I think it's ready, Hoss."

Looking disappointed, Jake said, "you sure, poppy? you sure it doesn't need more of my expert mushing?"

"I'm certain, son. Time to start getting them ready for the grill."

"'kay!" Jake now took a lump of the ground meat and began to painstakingly shape it into a patty. When he was satisfied, he said, "good?"

Blair nodded. "Perfect, Hoss. Now set it down here… that's it… and start another one."

The work of art was laid to rest on the wax paper-covered platter and small fingers dug back in for more meat.

"Okay, the burgers are done, the beans simmering, the two salads done and in the fridge. What's left?" Blair asked as he helped Jake wash his hands.

"dessert, silly!"

"Ah, yes. Dessert. Asparagus pie with mushroom sauce," Blair said.

"da-deeee, strarberries and angel food cake with lots of whupped cream!"

"That sounds kind of icky, Hoss. Are you sure you wouldn't rather have asparagus—"

"nononononono," Jake said with an emphatic nod of his head.

"Right. So strawberries and angel food cake, it is." Looking down at Jake and seeing the rather expectant look on his face, he asked, "Do you, by any chance, want to help?"

Jake rolled his eyes.

"Right. Okay, go sit down and I'll bring everything over after I 'whup' the cream."

"but-but-but – i wanna whup it, daddy!"

One eyebrow arching, Blair said, "Oh, you do, do you?"

Head bobbing, Jake said, "yesyesyesyes."

Blair reached out and Jake made himself available for picking up. Once at the counter, he set his son on the edge and said, "Okay, don't budge while I get the whipping – er – whupping – cream."

Jake held out his hands and said, "where would i budge to, daddy?"

"Yes, well, just… stay put." He walked away, stopped, turned back and said, "I've always wanted to say that." He pointed his finger at Jake and said in a good imitation of Jim, "Stay put, Chief."

Giggling, Jake saluted. "yes, sir!"

"Nice going, Chief."

Blair whirled around to see Jim lounging against the kitchen door frame.

"You do me better than I do."

Wicked gleam in his eyes, Blair said, "Well, I should hope so, Jim. I should hope so."

Jim actually blushed as he pushed away from the wall and admonished, "Sandburg – child in the room."

"Yep, and child and I are going to … whup up some … cream. Frothy, sweet whupped cream."

Jim joined the "child" at the counter and said, "Sandburg, you're incorrigible."

"But not," Blair said as he took the carton of cream out of the fridge, "incorruptible. You have permission to corrupt me later."

Jake, enjoying every minute of a conversation he didn't understand, just kept grinning even as he leaned into his father and Jim's arm came around him. From the comfort of his father's arms, he watched his other father pour the ice cold, heavy whipping cream into the mixer and then move said mixer closer.

"Okay, Hoss, you ready to mix?"

"i be ready, daddy!"

"All right then, she's all yours." Blair put the top of the mixer down, locked it in place and nodded to his son.

Jake reached over and, like he'd been taught, pushed the switch up one notch. After a few moments, and at another nod from Blair, he pushed the switch all the way and craned his neck to watch the cream turn into whipped cream.

Blair caught Jim's eye and winked. Watching Jake watch the miracle of whipping cream was a favorite pastime in the Ellison-Sandburg-Porter household.

"almost there, daddy!"

Blair checked himself and nodded. "Yep, almost. Time to add a bit of maple sugar." He reached for the jar he'd taken down earlier and twisted the top off. He sprinkled what was approximately a half teaspoon into the stiffening mixture and put the jar back in the cupboard.

"now, daddy? now?"

"Hmmm, do you think there are enough shadows yet?"

Jake's face wrinkled in thought and finally he shook his vehemently. "nope!"

"Okay, keep watching."

A moment later, Jake said, "now, daddy!"

"Yep, now."

Jake turned it off and Blair unlocked it and lifted the mixer. He peered inside and nodded in satisfaction. "You've done it again, Jake. The perfect whupped cream."

"a'course," Jake said proudly. "i be the bestest whupper of cream in the whole wide world."

"At least," Jim said as he lifted Jake and put him down. "Okay, the strawberries are juicing up in the fridge so all we have left to do is cut the angel food cake up into squares for grilling later. I think your dad and I can handle that, so why don't you go play in the courtyard, Hoss?"

They could see the struggle in their son's eyes – courtyard and his "fishies" or a chance at stealing a bite of angel food cake. Blair decided to make it easy.

"Hoss, we have just enough cake for everyone tonight…."

"fishies, here i come!"

With that pronouncement, he tore out of the kitchen. They listened to his running footsteps, then the opening and shutting of the screen door.

"Okay, that's one happy camper."

"I guess so," Blair agreed. "Let's get the cake cut up and then you, O Master Griller, can prep the barbecue."

"Aye, aye, mon Capitan!"

Jim wiped his hands on his chef's apron – not the flowered one – the "World's Greatest Meat Burner" one – and stepped back. Grill: clean, grill bowl: clean. Briquettes and wood chips scattered. Tools clean and ready.

His work here was done – for now.

Jim glanced over at the lawn and the koi pool and watched his son watching the fish. It was amazing that the koi could keep Jake occupied for hours on end. Most children his age would be mesmerized for a whole two minutes before scampering off to find something else to do. But not Jake. He smiled fondly – but a moment later it faded.

Carl Sabotini and Naomi. He had to find a chance to talk with her today.

He'd actually played with the idea of not talking to her about it, but he knew fate and the more he tried to ignore the truth and let it play out, the more likely it was to blow up in his face – or more accurately – Naomi's and Blair's. And he couldn't risk that. Up front and honest had been his promise to Blair – and somehow – some way – he would be.

"There he is!"

"my nomi!"

Jim shook himself out of his reverie and smiled in spite of his thoughts as Jake launched himself at his grandmother. They exchanged the usual kisses before she turned, Jake in arms, and said, "I thought I'd pop over early to see if you needed any help."

"That was thoughtful, Naomi. But actually, young Mr. Jake there provided all the help we needed today."

"i did, my nomi, i did. i made the patties and whupped the cream!"

"Then I suspect everyone will enjoy the best hamburgers and 'whupped' cream in the world, Jake."

"you betcha!"

"Sandburg made you a veggie burger, by the way."

"He did? That was sweet, although I'm betting there'll be enough food to have kept me happy."

Chuckling, Jim said, "No doubt, but Jake insisted."

She turned back to her grandson. "You did?"

"you gotta have burgers with us, my nomi, you just got to."

"Well, then, thank you very much, kind sir. If I remember my son's veggie burgers, I'm in for a treat."

"Jake, why don't you go let daddy know your Nomi is here, all right?"

"'kay!"

"And ask him to fix us up some of that special ice tea of his and maybe some … chips?"

"i can do that, poppy!"

"Good."

Naomi set him down and watched with love as he scampered off and up to the screen door. He pulled it open and ran inside yelling, "my nomi, my nomi is here, daddy!"

Laughing, Naomi said, "Who'd have thought I'd be a 'my nomi' one day."

Jim studied her and decided he had maybe fifteen minutes before Blair and Jake joined them. It was now or never.

"Carl Sabotini," he said quietly.

Naomi blinked – and paled.

"We met him on a case, Naomi. He's now… we even had lunch with him today. And he's invited us to another game."

Naomi sank into the chair next to the table. "Carl," she said, clearly stunned.

"He knows who Blair is. He undoubtedly had his suspicions when Blair introduced himself. I'm betting he went home and did some research, much I like did earlier today when it finally hit me who he… had to be. Sometimes – sometimes my senses can be a real downer."

"He couldn't know," Naomi said dully. "Just because he knows Blair's my son doesn't mean—"

"He knew. In his heart, he knew. And the way he looks at Blair? Oh, yeah. And by the way, I shouldn't have needed my senses. He looks like Blair, or rather, Blair looks like him."

She put a hand to her mouth. "Oh, God."

"We have about ten minutes left before Blair comes out here with the tea and the munchies. You need to tell him, Naomi."

She looked up then, eyes wide with horror. "I can't, Jim. I can't. You don't understand."

"The man is his father, Naomi."

Suddenly she got to her feet. "I'm going. I'll be back, but tell him I needed… tell him I went to the store, all right? Just… do that. I'll be back."

"Do you want his address?" Jim asked softly.

"Address?"

He waited.

"You… have it?"

"Thirteen-fifteen Willow Brook. The Colgate. Eighth floor, number eight-twelve."

He watched as she mouthed the address to herself before hiking her purse back onto her shoulder.

"I'll be back, Jim. I swear it."

"See that you are. We're eating at six."

She nodded and walked out of the courtyard toward the parking lot.

Jim sighed heavily and moved to the vacated chair. He dropped down and wished he had a beer.

Or something stronger.

The screen door opened and Jake bounded out, Blair, a tray in his hands, right behind him. Jim hastily stood up just as Jake looked around and asked, "where's my nomi, poppy?"

"She'll be back. She said she forgot something, mumbled something about the store. And is that the Arnold Palmer ice tea, Chief?" he said too brightly.

Frowning, Blair nodded as he set the tray down on the patio table. "What could she have forgotten?"

Jim was saved from answering when the gate behind him opened and Sherry Lansing, one of the upstairs tenants, walked in with her fiancé, Peter Elkins.

"Hi, Blair, Jim. Barbecuing tonight?"

Blair plastered a fake smile on and nodded. "A welcome home barbecue."

"Sounds yummy," Sherry said as she and Peter walked upstairs.

Blair wasn't surprised that Peter had said nothing. He had been shocked to discover a "gay" couple in the building.

When Sherry and Peter disappeared inside her apartment, Jim said, "I can't believe she hasn't broken up with that jerk yet."

Pouring the tea, Blair said, "She's considering it. She keeps hoping to change him."

He handed a small glass to Jake, who took it quietly. Jake, while loving Sherry, had never liked Peter, but understood that it was now an unwritten rule that when Peter was with her, polite words only were exchanged. He didn't like it, as witnessed by his currently scrunched up face, but on a level that continued to mystify adults, he understood.

Blair held out a glass of the lemonade-tea mixture and Jim took it gratefully. "Thanks."

"So… she had an errand to run, did she?" Blair said, suspicion oddly tinged with sarcasm in his voice.

"Uhm, yeah. But she'll be back."

"Uh-huh."

Naomi pulled up in front of the Colgate and parked. After shutting down the engine, she sat back and stared straight ahead, wondering if she could do this; if she could actually see … him.

Carl.

Oh, God.

She glanced to her right and took in the building, one of Cascade's newest. Bright, modern, and proclaiming in a rarefied whisper, "We're for the very rich."

She couldn’t do it.

She had to do it.

For Blair – and -- for herself.

Naomi got out of the car and walked up to the glass doors. With a deep breath, she pulled one open and stepped inside.

The lobby was quietly lush and beautiful, simple in its elegance. A large, understated oak desk stood in front of her, a set of elevators on either side. A man in an expensive dark suit manned the desk so she walked up to him and said, "I'd like to see Carl Sabotini, please. Let him know that it's Naomi … Sandburg."

"Of course, just a moment."

He picked up the phone and a moment later was telling someone at the other end that a "Naomi Sandburg to see Mr. Sabotini."

She held her breath.

"You can go up. Eighth floor. Number—"

"I know." She turned to the elevators on her right and pressed the up button.

She could do this.

"We'll have to tell them after Jake goes to bed," William said as he picked up his keys.

Sally stood at the door, her face pale. "I know."

"Are you all right, honey?"

"I will be by the time we get there. Don't worry."

William nodded, grabbed his jacket and guided his wife out to the garage.

He didn't have a clue how they were going to get through this.

Simon pulled up in front of the Anjasmayo and shut off the engine. He knew Jake would be in the courtyard waiting for all of them to arrive. He also knew how difficult that first glimpse of the boy would be for him.

But damn it, he was a captain with the Cascade Police Department. He could do this.

Simon got out of the car.

Jake heard a car door slam and was on his feet in an instant. He ran over to the gate and peered through the bars – and immediately started jumping up and down.

"it's unca simon, it's unca simon!"

Jim grinned and said, "I'll go get more of everything, Chief."

"Good thinking. There's more of the lemonade-ice tea mix in the fridge, and don't forget the vegetable tray."

"On my way ."

Jim had just stepped inside when Simon walked through the entryway and into the courtyard. He was immediately assaulted by Jake, who latched onto a leg in order to hitch a ride.

"Sandburg, could you tell me why it is that every time I visit, I gain several pounds?"

"Gee, Simon, I don't know. The good food?"

"So I should eat this extra weight?" he asked as he walked – oddly – toward a chair.

"Do you want it barbecued or baked?"

"unca siiii-mon!"

"Uhm, Simon? Your extra weight seems to … it's talking, Simon. Your extra weight is talking."

Simon shook his left leg – the one with Jake attached, and of course, Jake giggled.

"You're right, Sandburg – and now it's -- giggling."

"I think we might want to consider amputation." Blair held up his hands and added, "I know, I know – radical thinking, but when your extra weight starts talking and giggling – I think it's your only choice."

"da-deeeeee!"

"You know what's utterly amazing, Simon?"

"No, what?" Simon said as he shook his leg again and bit back a grin.

"That just as you discovered the extra weight, I seem to have lost my son."

Simon was lucky that Jim chose that moment to exit the house, hands full. Blair rushed over to help so both men missed the fact that Simon had paled to a sickly gray at Blair's words. He bent down and lifted a suddenly non-resistant Jake into his arms and looked into the bright blue eyes.

"Hi, Jake," he said softly before kissing Jake's cheek.

"hi, unca simon. i made the patties and whupped the cream."

"You did?"

Jake nodded. "i made one this," he spread his arms and Simon had to brace him to keep him from taking a header, "biiiiiiig jus' for you, unca simon!"

"Then I'm sure it will be the bestest in the world."

"ab-so-lut-leeeee."

Jim and Blair had set up a large pitcher, several glasses and an ice bucket on the table and now Blair handed him a glass.

"Ice tea and lemonade," Blair said. "In California, they call it an Arnold Palmer."

"And to think," Simon said as he took the glass, "here we just call it … ice tea and lemonade. What will those crazy people in California think of next?"

Jake tugged on Simon's shirt and said, "you gotta come in with me right now, unca simon. i haveta show you everything!"

"Uhm, Jake? Wouldn't it be better to wait for grandpa and Sally? Then you can show them all at the same time."

Jake's eyes grew round with the idea and he nodded wisely. "that would be way better, daddy. so i should have more lemontea, carrots and blue cheesy dressing, shouldn't i?"

"Oh, yeah, you definitely need to do that," Blair said.

Simon sat down and arranged Jake on his lap even as Blair made up a plate of appetizers that would serve to satisfy both of them. He picked up Jake's empty glass, filled it and handed the plate to Simon and the glass to Jake, who was currently leaning back against Simon's chest.

"Comfortable, Hoss?" Blair asked with a grin.

"bery," Jake said as he wiped his mouth and reached for a carrot.

Simon looked up at the "bery" and quirked an eyebrow. Jim, who'd taken the seat next to Simon, said, "Don't ask. Sandburg has an explanation, but it'll just turn your brain to mush."

"Ah. Can't afford that," Simon said. "And no wisecracks from either of you."

Blair laughed at that and sat down opposite Jim. Helping himself to a cherry tomato, which he swirled in the Ranch dip, he said, "Mom was here but left. She should be back shortly, I hope."

"She left?" Simon asked, curious.

"Yeah, Jim said she … forgot something."

Simon looked questioningly at Jim, who shrugged helplessly. "What can I say? Maybe she meant to bring something to add to our dinner and… forgot."

"Ah, makes sense," Simon mused.

Feeling relieved, Jim nodded. "I'm sure that's it."

Blair simply looked from one to the other and shook his head. Something was up, no doubt about it – and whatever it was – Simon was in on it.

Well, he had all night to get to the bottom of it.

Naomi got out of the elevator but didn't have to look for the right door because a very familiar – older maybe, but nevertheless familiar – voice said, "Naomi."

She turned to her right and her legs went weak. He was only a couple feet away and he was smiling with Blair's smile and looking at her through Blair's blue eyes, all of which left her extremely short of breath.

"Naomi, how—"

"Jim figured it out today," she heard herself saying from a great distance. "He told me where you lived and because he knows he can't tell Blair, but that Blair has to know – well, here I am."

Carl Sabotini reached out, took her hand and led her into his home.

"Here, drink this."

She found a glass in her hand and she was vaguely puzzled by that fact. Then he was gently guiding it up and she was sipping the drink and it burned, but in a good way. She blinked several times and finally looked around her.

The room was spacious and beautifully decorated in earth tones. She was seated on the edge of a deep, wide, soft chair next to a huge window that overlooked the Cascade marina.

"I was going to call you, Naomi, to let you know that I'd met him. But I … to be honest, I chickened out. While I know in my heart that he's mine, I still feared hearing words to the contrary, so I put off the call."

Carl sat down in the chair opposite and she realized this was like a small reading corner. There were built-in floor to ceiling bookshelves on each side of the window. There was a fireplace, a large desk with a computer on it, and behind that, more bookshelves. In another corner was a bar, which explained the drink in her hand. Directly opposite the window was an open double door which gave her a glimpse of what she now realized was the living room. She'd been in such a state of shock that she hadn't even noticed being led through the condo and into this room.

Amazing.

She turned and looked back at Carl and said the only thing that came to mind.

"I'm sorry, Carl. I'm sorry."

"You sure you can do this, Sal?"

The petite woman at his side nodded emphatically. "I don't have a choice, do I?"

"No, honey, you don't. But it will only be for a few hours. He'll be in bed by eight."

Sally Ellison looked at her watch and sighed. Eight. She could do this.

They heard him before they saw him, his small voice carrying through the archway and echoing deep within both their hearts.

"it's my gampa and sally!"

William Ellison took his wife's hand and they started walking toward the Anjasmayo.

Why did you leave?"

Naomi closed her eyes and said, "I was afraid. No other reason on this earth. I was seventeen, you were—"

"I know how old I was, Naomi," Carl said, trying hard to keep the bitterness out of his tone.

She looked at him then, saw the pain and confusion in his eyes – so like Blair's when he was hurt – and something inside melted. How could he be so much like her son?

"What were you afraid of, Naomi?"

Heart pounding in her throat, she said simply, "Everything. There were no deep reasons for running, no profound revelations to share now, only the simple fact that I was afraid."

"And yet you had him," Carl stated, somewhat surprised.

"Oh, I wasn't afraid of giving birth, I was afraid of you, Carl, of what you represented, namely everything I was running from to begin with. You had goals, a life planned, our life planned. The walls had already started closing in on me when the doctor gave me the news." She closed her eyes briefly before going on.

"I thought I'd suffocate with the normality of it all. I knew you'd be happy, that you'd embrace the idea of becoming a father, even if it was ahead of plan. And then there'd be finding an apartment together and furnishing it and then buying baby things, and you'd finish school, and we'd move into the suburbs, and I'd have a new-fangled microwave oven and a side-by-side washer and dryer and you'd start out slow and then gather speed in your career and I'd be alone with the baby all day and we'd have sex once a month – on a planned day – and then you'd start calling that you'd be late, and then you'd stop calling and our child would be growing up listening to us fight after he went to bed, and then we'd fight during the day, and then—"

Carl started laughing.

Naomi stopped and took in her first breath in what seemed like hours. "Carl?"

He managed to control himself and, after wiping his eyes, said, "I'd forgotten. Forgotten the wild flower child that you were. And … still are?"

She nodded. "I haven't really changed, except now I drive a Toyota. I still meditate, travel, go on retreats, and I haven't seen my parents in over thirty years, but I'm close to my brother, Ben. He ran away the year after I did. Started a trucking company. He's retired now and he's only forty-six."

"Successful, then?"

"Very, but in a loose way. He traveled all over the country even though it was his company. Blair spent a couple of summers with him, seeing the United States through a trucker's eyes. Blair also spent summers on an Indian reservation, communes, and in Israel on both a Kibbutz and a Moshav. He's seen Mexico, Europe, most of the continental United States, Alaska and Hawaii. He's been to Greece and China. And many more countries via his work in anthropology."

"But he didn't have a father," Carl said softly.

"And I made sure he didn't miss one," Naomi countered.

"And I didn't have my son."

She felt the sudden moisture behind her eyes and blinked furiously to keep the tears back. "I know, I know. And … I'm sorry, Carl. I never thought of what I was taking from you, only of what I was saving myself from, don't you see?"

"Oddly enough, I do. You were, as you said, only seventeen and I think I knew, knew that I was pushing you. Forcing you into someone you weren't. But I loved you so damn much, Naomi. I wanted to … capture you, hold you, contain you. And that was wrong. I thought I was offering you everything and instead, you only saw a prison, didn't you?"

Naomi nodded, grateful that somehow, this man who'd been the boy she'd loved so long ago, understood.

"So what do we do now?" he asked.

She sat up straight in the chair and said, "Now I tell my son that he has a father."

Carl studied her for a moment, and finally said, "I'd be content to be just friends, Naomi. To see him, get to know him better. And to enjoy Jake."

"You … you would?"

"Yes. I don't want to be the cause of bringing pain to Blair. To confuse him, or hurt him in any way."

Naomi was stunned – and a part of her was ready to jump on this opportunity to keep the truth of what she'd done forever hidden from Blair, but another part of her was saying no. Telling her that would be the worse thing she could do to him. But oh, how easy it would be.

Except she wasn't seventeen anymore. She was almost fifty. She was a grandmother, for god's sake. A woman who'd finally settled down and was developing feelings – strong, settled feelings – for Simon Banks. The kind of man she'd never have considered years ago because he had the same inner drive as Carl. A strong, successful man and – a cop. With a teenaged son.

"No, Carl. I'll tell him. He needs to know the truth and you deserve the chance to be his father. And besides – I couldn't do that to Jim. There simply can't be three people who know this about Blair and he not be one of them."

"So how … will you do this? Should we… maybe … do it together?"

"I… that's not what I had in mind, to be honest. But I need to tell him tonight. I'll… we're having a barbecue with Jim's father and stepmother, and Jim's and Blair's boss, Simon Banks. It's kind of a welcome home party. Kind of."

Carl nodded … and waited. He could almost see the wheels turning for Naomi, and while she thought – he looked.

She was, if possible, even more beautiful than when they'd first met. Over thirty years were behind them and she fairly glowed with beauty; an inner flame that sparkled when she smiled and glimmered within the depths of her eyes. There was a maturity now, and a kind of earthiness that he admired. But the girl that had drawn him like a moth to flame was still there, just under the surface of the woman.

"I… perhaps you should be a part of telling him," Naomi finally said. "And yet…."

She looked at him, searched his face as if trying to find the answer, and finally said, "I think… he'll need to reach out to you, Carl. Don't we owe him the choice? Don't I owe him that choice? I know I took it from you, but I took it from him as well, and he's what matters now."

"Yes, he is, Naomi. I'll leave this in your hands and pray… pray that I receive a call from him."

Blair checked his watch and looked out toward the parking lot again. Still no Naomi and the burgers were now on the barbecue. Maybe he'd better give her a call on her cell. Yeah, that's what he should do. He got up, swung past Jim, brushing against him just enough to say a non-verbal, "Love you," walked up the steps, pulled the screen door open and walked in.

"… and this is my very own ghosty an' he hitched a ride on our doom buggy, and this is his doom buggy, but it's not the real one, a'course, cuz that was too big to bring home. an' this is zero, 'member him?"

Blair stopped just inside, his face softening as he looked at the tableau before him. Three grown people, on their knees around Jake and the coffee table, all leaning forward with great interest as Jake showed them his haul. William's face was alight with love and discovery as he watched and listened, oohed and ahhed, and nodded enthusiastically. Sally was grinning, her dark eyes crinkling with her smile. And Simon….

Blair frowned as he observed his boss and friend. Oh, Simon was smiling too, but it was more of a … bittersweet smile. A smile that sent a niggling feeling of unease spiraling through him.

There was love in Simon's gaze, but there was also great sadness – and it was this sadness that burned its way through Blair.

"… and my crown, see?" Jake put it on. "i were the real king of dizzyland cuz i pulled out the sword jus' like the legend, see? daddy says it's cuz my heart is pure but i think it's cuz he an' poppy are my daddies, see? an' this is my medal an' you can wear it, gampa. oh, an' this is my chiefy hat, see?"

The feathers rode the air as Jake swung the great hat around in order to put it on. Once it was settled atop his head, he modeled it for his captive audience, all of whom clapped and whistled. Blair, still frowning, turned away and continued on into the kitchen, the unease growing.

Once inside, the swinging door still, he moved to the phone on the wall and speed dialed his mother.

"Mom? Where are you?"

"Mom, what almonds?"

Blair gave an impatient shake of his head. "Right. How silly of me. Well, hurry up, the burgers are almost ready and Jake is almost done showing off all his souvenirs."

"All right. See you in ten, mom."

Blair put up the phone and started for the fridge. Time to start bringing out the food and getting the dining room table set up. The one thing they rarely did was to actually eat outside if they had a large group. It just felt unfair to the other residents. So they'd sit outside while the food was cooking but when it was time to eat, they'd move indoors. He took out the bowls of salad and, walking into the dining room, thought, "Almonds, indeed."

Something was up – with everyone.

Naomi disconnected her cell, spotted a liquor store and swung in.

She needed to buy almonds.

"She'll be here in ten," Blair said as he rejoined Jim and everyone else in the courtyard.

Jake had finished his "show and tell" and now sat happily on Sally's lap drinking more tea and lemonade, nibbling on carrots and wearing his Mickey Mouse ears. He looked completely content.

"Well, she'd better be," Jim said as he flipped the burgers one final time and added Naomi's veggie burger. "Hers will only take about five minutes to cook through."

Blair nodded and said, "I've got the table inside set up, so whenever you're ready."

Jim nodded as he added sharp cheddar cheese to most of the burgers and pepper jack cheese to two of them. Blair stayed next to him – close enough that when Jim moved, he brushed lightly against him. Jim tossed the buttered buns on the grill and contented himself with this bit barbecuing intimacy in the few minuets they had left before the food would be done.

Naomi pulled into a parking slot – grateful there was one open. It was Sunday and everyone was home, usually with guests, so this was unusual. She got out, bag of almonds in hand, and headed into the courtyard.

"They're ready, Chief."

Blair nodded and handed him the platter just as Naomi walked in smiling.

"Hi, everyone!"

Jake quickly slid off Sally's lap and ran toward his Nomi, arms wide. She scooped him up, kissed him, and said, "My, you look wonderful in your Mickey ears, sweetie."

"you're late even though you were here first," Jake accused.

"You noticed, did you?"

"i did!"

"Well, I'm here now and it looks like I'm just in time to eat. Shall we?"

He nodded excitedly and, as Simon came alongside, they went inside even as William and Sally said their hellos to Naomi. Behind them, Jim and Blair followed, Jim with the burgers and buns, Blair with the tea mixture and what was left of the appetizers – and his growing unease as he caught the look exchanged between his partner and his mother.

"but what about me? i'm too liddle to reach everything, poppy!"

Jim managed not to cringe at Jake's use of d's instead of t's even as he picked him up. "Now you're not too… little, are you?"

Giggling, Jake shook his head. "now i'm big."

"There ya go." Jim picked up two bright red paper plates and handed one to Jake, who took it with both hands. "Okay, Hoss, you point, I serve. Sound good?"

"sounds bery good but i'm jus' gonna point at everything, poppy."

From behind him, Blair whispered, "You can handle it, Jim. He's just having fun with words."

Jim heard the laughter in Blair's voice and he couldn't help the smile that took over. They'd missed Jake's early years of learning to talk, so maybe this made up for it. Yeah, that sounded plausible. He plucked up the buns, two for him and two for Jake. He was about to reach for the tongs when Simon said, "Let me. Jake, cheddar or?"

"cheddy, cheddy, please!"

"That would be… cheddar," Simon correctly guessed. He caught one of the burgers with cheddar and dropped it on Jake's open bun. "Jim, I'm betting that one of these other cheddars goes to you, right?"

"Yep, the two pepper jacks go to you and Sandburg."

Simon picked up another cheddar burger and slid it onto Jim's bun before going back for his. Before he could pick one, Jake said, "see which one is yours, unca simon? the really biiiiiig one."

And darn if one of the pepperjack-covered burgers wasn't bigger than all the rest. Grinning, he plopped it onto his bun and said, "I'm honored to have this super-sized burger made by you, my main man. Thank you."

Looking like a puffed up peacock, Jake said, "you're wulcome, unca simon!"

They all laughed then as they continued to move around the table and pile their plates with salads, Blair's beans, more chips and veggies, and finally the condiments for their burgers. When fully loaded down, they all made their way back into the living room, plates balanced either on legs, arms of furniture or, if brave, on the coffee table while they sat on the floor with Jake. The brave included Blair, Sally and Naomi.

Naomi reached over and, without thought, cut Jake's burger in half, but when she turned toward Blair's burger, he grabbed her wrist. Chuckling, he said, "Not since I was ten, mom."

Looking thoroughly embarrassed, Naomi said, "Oh, my. I don't know what—"

"Truth be told, Naomi, I always cut his burgers for him. His meat too," Jim said in an effort to help and take the spotlight off his mother-in-law.

Smiling sweetly, Blair said, "Jake, your poppy is sleeping with you tonight. Won't that be fun?"

Jake, with a mouthful of food, said, "ohmgoby, my pobby—"

"Swallow, Jake," Jim admonished.

"oobs." Jake quickly chewed and swallowed. "ohgoody! poppy, jakey'll keep us both company an' we can—"

"Your oh, so humorous father was joking, Hoss," Jim said as he drew a finger down Jake's mustardy cheek. "Here," he added as he handed Jake another napkin. "Wipe down time."

Jake took it and smooshed his face with it before saying, "daddy?"

"Yes, Jake, I was joking … I think Jim'll just sleep on the couch tonight and if you're real good, you can do a dive bomb raid on him." Blair took the napkin before it could land on the floor and then winked at his son.

Jake tried not to giggle as he looked sternly at his father and asked, "then who will sleep with me tonight?"

In an amazing show of unison, everyone in the room said, "Jakey."

Giggling hard, Jake fell over backward.

"No, no, we'll clean up," Simon said as he and William started stacking paper plates.

"You notice, Sally, how when it's throw-away stuff, the men are more than eager to do the cleanup?"

"Yes, I definitely noticed, Naomi."

"That's not it at all," William huffed. "We're the hunters and the gatherers and—"

"The barbecuers," Simon added. "But since Jim and Blair did all the work with the grill, and since this is their welcome home party, we'll make the ultimate sacrifice and do the cleaning."

Jake, who'd been watching and listening to the interchange, looked up and backwards at his father, whose lap he was on, and said, "am i a hunter and gatherer, daddy?"

"If you want to be. Or you can be the cook, or you can do both, or you could be a little bit of everything. It's your choice."

Jake looked very thoughtful before leaning forward and peering around his father in order to better see his other father, who was in the chair behind them. "poppy, are you a hunter and gatherer or—"

"I'm whatever your daddy says I am," Jim said judiciously. "Including the family dog in the family dog house," he added with a wink.

"woof-woof," Jake barked. He climbed off his daddy's lap and, crawling around on all fours, began to sniff the floor, rear end wiggling in the air.

"We have such a talented son," Blair said with a grin.

"We do indeed. A talented son who needs a bath before he can come and be read to before going to bed," Jim said.

"arf-arf!" the dog said in a plaintive tone.

"No buts, Jake. Bath time now." Jim rose easily, tapped his thigh, whistled, and said, "Come doggy. Bath followed by dessert."

Sighing heavily, Jake crawled over to his father, brushed up against his leg and looked up imploringly. "arf-arf?"

Jim lifted him up and gently threw him over his shoulder. "Woof-woof and bath-bath," he said as he headed off for the bathroom. "Say bye-bye for a while to your Nomi and Sally."

A giggling Jake lifted his head and said, "arf-arf!"

"See you shortly, Jake," Naomi said.

"But hurry back," Sally added. "We want that delicious dessert you promised."

"arf-arf!!"

William loaded the dishwasher with the utensils, glasses and bowls while Simon silently put everything away that needed putting away. They both wanted to talk, to speak about it, but with Jim's hearing – knew it was impossible. But the way they worked said it all.

The kitchen was full of fear and worry.

Blair pulled the squares of nicely grilled angel food cake from the grill and piled them on the platter held by his mother.

"They smell heavenly," she said.

Blair looked at her quizzically and she said, "That wasn't an intended pun."

For a moment they stared at each other – and then broke into laughter.

Finally Naomi said, "I'll get these inside."

"The strawberries and whipped cream are in the fridge."

"No problem. Sally and I'll set it all up."

"Thanks, mom."

She suddenly leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "Tonight was wonderful, honey. And I'm so glad you three are home. I missed you all."

Blair looked up from cleaning the grill and said, "We missed you too. I think every other word out of Jake's mouth – when he wasn't saying, 'can we go again?' was 'my nomi would love this!' and 'i have to show my nomi!'"

Laughing, she started walking towards the apartment. "God, I love that boy."

Smiling, Blair continued scraping the grill but as she opened the screen door, he said, "Don't forget those … almonds."

She glanced over her shoulder, gave a little shake of her head, and walked inside.

As the screen door snicked shut behind her, she had the feeling she hadn't been fooling her son one bit. And while he didn't know what was going on, he knew something was up and that had been his way of letting her know… that he knew.

Having a smart son could be a real pain in the ass.

Jake ran down the hall and burst into the living room announcing, "i'm all clean and it's dessert time!"

His hair was still damp, the curls wild, telling everyone that Jim hadn't been able to hold him down long enough to comb them into some semblance of order. He was wearing his typical summer sleeping outfit: a tank top and pajamas shorts, as well as his red robe and socks. He threw himself at Blair, who caught him deftly and said, "What a coincidence, the dessert is ready."

"yipppeee!"

That was the signal for everyone to get up and start the dessert line. They followed Blair and Jake into the dining room and began the process of loading paper bowls with still-warm grilled angel food cake, macerated strawberries with lots of sweet juice, and of course, Jake's "whupped cream". And topping it all off – a sprinkling of toasted almonds courtesy of Naomi.

Once back in the living room, Blair set Jake down very carefully so he wouldn't spill his bowl of dessert, which was promptly put on the coffee table. Jake sat down on his knees and, after Jim set his milk down, dug in.

Everyone took their seats, this time all but Blair choosing the couches. He sat on the floor with Jake while Jim took the chair again. For several minutes the only sound in the room was the occasional "mmmm" from someone, and some lip smacking courtesy of Jake.

When Jake swallowed the last bite, he looked eagerly up at his father and said, "story now, please?"

"Nope," Jim said. "Not spoiled at all."

Laughing, Blair looked apologetically at their guests and said, "I can take him into the kitchen for this?"

At a flurry of shaking heads and "No, no, we want to hear," he reached under the table top to the shelf below and pulled out the latest book they were reading. Laughing, he held it up and said to Jake, "I'll read, but you'll have to feed me the rest of my dessert, Hoss. Deal?"

"deal!" Jake scrambled over to his father and settled himself in Blair's lap. He took his father's bowl of dessert and waited expectantly.

Blair, smothering a grin, opened the book, "Bud, Not Buddy", and said, "Okay, we'd barely started so our guests shouldn't be too confused, right?"

Jake nodded excitedly so Blair said, "Okay then, here we go." He flipped the bookmark over and got ready to read, but Jake stopped him.

"but… but… daddy, does everyone know what we're reading?"

"Why, no, Jake, I guess I forgot to tell them."

"maybe i should 'splain?"

"Mmm, maybe you should."

Jake turned to look at everyone and said, "we're reading bud, not buddy and he's a little boy who lives in a home for orphans. but he's not gonna stay – he's gonna go adventuring to find his daddy." Jake turned back to his father and said, "'kay, you can start now."

Satisfied, Jake settled back against his father, but ready to feed him when required.

Blair knew what was now expected of him and, with a look at their guests – a look that said, "You're in for it now, folks," he started reading.

Now both men stood in the doorway of the dark room, listening to him breathe softly as he drifted off to sleep. Blair, without taking his eyes from Jake's almost-asleep form, whispered, "He had a great day, didn't he?"

Jim slid his arm around him as he whispered back, "We all did. Makes going to work tomorrow not so bad."

Blair chuckled and said, "We'd better get back to our guests."

Reluctantly, they closed the door and walked back into the living room.

"… so there he was, completely stunned, confetti raining down on him, and all because he'd pulled the sword from the stone. You just never saw a happier child."

The pictures from their vacation were making the rounds, all accompanied by stories to match. The current popular "Oooh" and "Aaah" series of photos were those taken during Jake's "coronation" as King of Disneyland.

"Thank God for photos," Sally breathed out. She'd been close to happy tears on more than one occasion while looking at each picture that came her way.

The last of the photo collection was just making its way back to Blair when Simon cleared his throat.

"Uhm, Jim… is he … is he asleep?"

"Yeah, why?"

"I mean… is he asleep?"

Looking at Simon as if he'd lost his marbles, Jim nevertheless zeroed in on his son… and nodded. "Soundly."

"Okay. Could you… you need to kind of keep an ear out – if he wakes up. It's important, Jim."

Blair uncrossed his legs and rose from the floor. "What's going on, Simon?"

"Yeah, what's going … on?" Jim repeated.

Simon looked over at William, who took Sally's hand even though his eyes were on Jim, and nodded. Simon sat forward and said, "I don't know any other way to say this other than – just saying it. Richard was going to be here, but he had another emergency with a client and had to fly to Spokane." Simon coughed slightly and then said, "I received some news from a friend with the FBI and it seems there's an investigation in process – an investigation into an adoption agency that apparently provided children through less than … conventional means."

Naomi reached out and grabbed his arm. "Simon, what… what does this—"

"Mom," Blair said in a dead tone, "let him finish."

She looked up at him, saw the intensity in his gaze and sank back, a new fear making itself known in her stomach.

Simon reached over and took her hand. Holding it tight, he said, "There are two agents working this case. Paul McNamara and Frank Stiller. It seems that several children – babies – were kidnapped in order to meet certain specifications. They've tracked down several and reunited them with their biological parents but there's still one little boy unaccounted for -- he was a eleven months old when he was taken out of his backyard."

Voice still without inflection, Blair said, "A blond… blue-eyed boy, right? And a boy who'd be… almost five now."

"Oh, dear God, no," Naomi whispered.

"Jim, you okay?" William asked, wishing for the hundredth time that Steven could have been here.

Jim's ice blue gaze flicked from Simon to William as he stated coldly, "You knew this."

"I told him today, Jim. I somehow felt that – maybe – he could do something. That he could be here … for you … when I told you tonight."

"That's why you didn't come over on Friday, isn't it?" Blair asked, still without emotion.

Nodding, Simon said, "Yes. I couldn't… didn't want to … I wanted you to have these days. I've known for … what, two weeks, I think. Something like that. There was nothing you could do in California and my friend agreed to pull his men back until you returned. They'll be arriving tomorrow."

"You're saying that Jake is… that he isn't—"

Simon rushed to stop Naomi's tortured question. "No! There's no proof either way, that's why the two agents are coming here."

"Diane would never in a million years take a child. Never," Blair said softly.

"I know, Blair. I know. That's exactly what Richard said. Not to mention that Jake is the spitting image of both his mother and his grandfather. But as you know, Blair, there are no real records on Jake. No … birth certificate. And no way to trace his life much before Karen brought him here."

"There are pictures – we have photographs," Jim said, his voice sounding almost desperate.

"Yes, I know and I'm hoping you have some that show him as a small baby?" Simon asked helplessly. "Are there photos you haven't shown us? Anything that shows him prior to eleven months? Any records at all?"

Blair, eyes glazed over, shook his head and mouthed a hopeless, "No."

"That's the problem, then," Simon went on to say. "There's nothing that proves Diane had Jake."

"I spoke with Tom Fielding, you remember him, don't you, Jim?" William asked. When he got no response, he said, "He's Judge Fielding now. He's a good friend and I checked with him on several things – such as what procedure would be followed now—"

"Blood tests," Blair said with the same air of not actually being with them. "They'll want blood tests and DNA. The other … parents … and … Jake. And they'll take him – put him—"

"NO!" William said as he jumped up.

"Dad, you'll wake Jake," Jim said as if nothing was wrong.

"No one will take Jake, Blair. I made sure of that. Tom won't allow it. Jake will stay here and he never needs to know – because I'm certain that the DNA tests will prove nothing."

For the first time since Simon had started speaking, Blair showed emotion. Eyes wide and glistening, he said, "You're certain? They won't take him? He won't have to be—"

"I'm certain, Blair. I swear it."

The air whooshed out of him at the same time that Jim rose to his feet and simply moved to stand behind him. Jim didn't put his arms around him, he didn't need to. Just… being there, close enough that Blair could lean back – which he did – was enough.

"Richard has already set up the appointment with Weinstein at the clinic for four on Tuesday," Simon informed them. "I've already checked on the timing and it will take anywhere from two to five days before we get the results – and that's pushing them. They use Russell Labs in determining paternity, and unfortunately, that doesn't have priority, not even in a possible kidnapping case."

"And I tried. But getting permission for the sample to be moved to another lab from your HMO would take even longer, and using the PD lab wouldn't have been accepted by the Feds, for obvious reasons. This seemed our best bet," William added.

"The test isn't conclusive," Jim said. "It can only prove likelihood."

"I understand that, son. But if the results are over ninety-nine point nine percent…."

He didn't have to finish the sentence.

"Mom, you okay?" Blair asked, noticing how quiet and pale his mother had become.

She looked up at him and said, "Me? I'm … as okay as anyone else, under the circumstances." Her gaze landed on Jim and she shrugged helplessly.

He nodded slightly, understanding exactly what she meant. Now was hardly the time to drop something else on Blair.

Everyone was suddenly very quiet, but when Blair moved away from Jim and headed for the hall, they knew exactly where he was going. And when Jim followed, no one had to say anything. They just sat back, and waited.

"It's not going to happen, Chief," Jim whispered. "No one is taking him from us. If we have to – we'll leave. Go to Peru, whatever it takes."

Blair was standing over Jake's bed, eyes fastened on Jake. He reached back blindly and captured Jim's hand. "No, we won't and you know it. If any kind of positive proof shows us -- beyond a shadow of a doubt -- that he belongs to two others – we'll do what's right."

Jim couldn't say anything because he wasn't altogether certain he'd be able to be the noble man Blair was assuming.

The party didn't end exactly the way it had begun, and it was a very quiet William and Sally Ellison who left. But not before William hugged his son with all his strength and then gave Blair the same kind of hug. Promises were made that they'd all talk and plan, but for Jake's sake, it had been decided to act as if nothing had changed. He would not be told unless things looked as though they could go against them and the Department of Child Welfare was called in to take Jake from them.

Simon was getting his coat when Naomi walked up behind him and said, "I'll walk out with you."

"I thought you were staying the night?"

"I am, but… I'll walk you out, all right?"

His gaze softened and he nodded. Turning back to Jim and Blair, he said, "This is going to be okay, I know it… here." He touched his chest, over his heart. "I know it."

"But you're still afraid," Blair said softly.

"Yeah, go figure. I think fear is intrinsic. No matter what we think we know," he mused, "it's so easily overshadowed by worst case scenarios. Our subconscious minds play hell with us."

"Very astute, Simon," Blair said with the first smile – weak though it was – since hearing the news.

"I'll see you both in the morning, all right?"

"We'll be there, Simon," Jim promised.

"All right, then," he said. He looked at both of them and suddenly moved forward and embraced them both. "This will work out," he whispered. "It'll work out."

Then he was gone, Naomi following him out.

Blair and Jim remained standing by the door – unmoving.

"Simon, there's something… something I need to tell you in spite of the fact that the last thing I want to do is burden you with more shit."

Simon reared back. "Shit? Did you just say … shit?"

She smiled wanly in the dark and said, "Yes, I did."

"Well, then, you'd better tell me."

They were standing close together, almost touching. She looked up at him and said, "You know Carl Sabotini?"

"Yes, of course. We investigated his wife's death several weeks ago. Why?"

"He's… he's… oh, god. He's Blair's father, Simon."

There was a moment of silence, a moment where Simon could only stare at her before saying, "Well, fuck."

"I guess we should … tidy up," Blair said as he ran a hand through his hair.

"I guess so."

They started moving around the room, picking up glasses and dessert bowls. They walked into the kitchen and, while Jim put the rest of the utensils in the dishwasher, Blair tossed the trash and walked back out into the dining room in order to bring in the dishes that had held the makings of their dessert. It only took them a few minutes to clean up and start the dishwasher and when they were done – they stared stupidly around them.

Jim scrubbed a hand over his face and then pulled Blair into his arms. "We have to hold on to each other through this, Chief. Can't let it tear us apart," he whispered into dark, curly hair.

Blair said nothing – he just held on.

"Simon, we knew each other in California. I was seventeen, he was at Berkeley. We fell in love, I got pregnant, and I ran. I … ran. I couldn’t face what it would mean if I stayed."

"And just what would it have meant?" Simon asked, anger tingeing his voice.

"Family. Normal – living. Everything I'd run away from. I just knew I'd become my parents and I didn't want that. Oh, I wanted my baby, but under my terms – no one else's. And Carl was a strong young man. He knew what he wanted and I was no match. If I'd stayed – I just couldn't. So I ran and kept on running. From everything that others value more than life. And I never told Blair that I'd left behind a man who'd have loved him to within an inch of his life. Would have understood him, valued him, treasured him."

"I don't understand, Naomi. Why would being like your parents – or any other normal couple – be so wrong?"

She gave a bitter laugh. "My folks were far from normal, Simon. Their life was all show and no depth. It was dinner at the club -- restricted, of course – and it was prejudice against anyone different. And let's not forget the fights and drunken brawls. Or the social drinking and the nasty comments aimed at the other's weak spots. Or the nights when mom would lock dad out of the house and they'd yell at each other through the front door until he'd say, 'You'll wake the goddamned neighbors' and then mom would let him in, but he'd sleep in the guest room. God forbid the neighbors should know life wasn't so sweet and all-American in our little corner of the universe. Little did they know that other families were just as dysfunctional – maybe even more so."

"So you?"

"Ran away from home at the age of sixteen. My brother did it a year later. It was, after all, the sixties – the age of Aquarius. Peace, love, unity and hair – lots and lots of hair."

"You sound surprisingly bitter, Naomi, which isn't like you."

"I don't mean to. Running away from home was the second best thing I ever did. Having Blair was the first. I've tried to live a life as different from my parents as possible. So has my brother."

"Would this be the uncle that Sandburg spent the summer with learning how to drive a truck?"

Smiling, Naomi nodded. "And Robert's father. We still don't know where Robert went wrong – exactly," she said with a light laugh that went straight to Simon's heart.

"Robert's done all right by Sandburg."

"I know. They've always been close – in a weird 'I don't understand you, but love you anyway' kind of way. You see, my brother became quite wealthy and yet lives simply, shares his wealth, supports more charities than you can imagine, and fills out an honest income tax form each year. Robert, on the other hand, became a gambler. Not that he doesn't share his winnings – when he wins – because he does. But still – he's vastly different from his father, but that hasn't stopped them from loving one another. And I'm rambling now, aren't I?"

"Oh, I don't know. I've learned more about you and Blair in the last five minutes than I have in the last year, if that counts for anything."

"Too much? Have you learned … too much?"

He ran the back of his hand along her cheek and said, "No, Naomi, I haven't. One thing I'd like to know, however, is why tell me tonight?"

"Jim and Blair. You see, I didn't even know Carl Sabotini lived in Cascade until Jim told me today. It seems that Carl – when he met Blair – knew immediately. Oh, I'm sure he went home and did some investigating of his own – like Jim said, but ultimately – he knew. And somehow, with his incredible senses, Jim figured it out today and told me. So you see, we're keeping a secret from my son because now he's got to worry about his son and I can't – won't – dump this on him now, but I was. I'd planned on telling him tonight."

Her voice broke and Simon did the only thing that made sense. He enfolded her within the circle of his arms.

He let her cry softly against him as he held her and stroked her hair. It was all he could do.

Blair felt the tremors run through Jim's body and he held him tighter. They'd make it through this – intact – a family. And if all went well, these moments of fear would be known only to them – never to their son.

Never to Jake.

"Do you have everything you need, Naomi?" Jim asked softly.

"I'm fine, Jim. You know how I love this Aero bed," she said, her voice a whisper. "Are you … all right?"

"I'm fine. And we'll worry about the …other issue later, agreed?"

"I told Simon. I had… to."

"I understand. Good night, Naomi. See you in the morning."

"Good night, Jim."

She watched him turn and enter the hall, whereupon he flicked off the light. The living room was now in darkness and she fell back against the pillows. Blair had already said his goodnights, and they'd talked softly, albeit briefly before he'd gone into Jake's room, where she suspected he was even now. And where Jim would go.

Because she was so certain they were both in Jake's bedroom, she was surprised when, a few minutes later, her son's voice came to her out of the darkness.

"Mom?"

"I'm awake, honey," she said softly.

She could see the dark shape that represented her son coming toward her and a moment later, the edge of the Aero bed dipped as he sat down.

"What is it, honey?"

"I … uhm… I thought… look, if we're going to protect Jake – keep him from knowing anything's wrong, we have to be better than we've ever been. Do you know what I'm trying to say?"

"Honey, Jake is smart, no doubt about it, but he is, after all, a child."

"I know, but something happened in California that … well… I think Jake's special, mom. Maybe a … shaman. And if so, if we're not careful – he'll pick up on our fears and worries. You understand?"

"Honey, are you… how in the world—"

"Mom, trust me, okay?"

Naomi closed her eyes. Her grandson – a shaman?

Good lord, why the hell not. She opened her eyes and said, "I do, honey. I do. He'll never know from anything I say or do, I swear it."

Breathing easier, Blair rose. "Thanks, mom. Thanks. And good night again. I love you."

"Love you too, sweetie. Good night."

He turned, stumbled a bit, but made his way out of the living room.

Naomi turned on her side and thought about what Blair had said.

Maybe… maybe this was why Jake had come to them.

Who better to guide a young shaman, then another shaman and his sentinel?

Blair returned to Jake's room and sat down next to Jim. They were risking a great deal by sitting here – but they couldn't not do it. For the first time in a long time, Blair envied Jim's abilities. He could see Jake.

Jim looked at the bedside clock and almost groaned. It was after four and he and Blair had to be up in a couple of hours. At least Blair had finally fallen asleep. Jim held him in his arms and rested his cheek on the top of Blair's head. A plan had been forming in his mind, but making it happen would be considerably more difficult than thinking it up. And it involved, of all people, Carl Sabotini, a quietly powerful man with connections.

Feeling hopeful at the thought, Jim tried to sleep.

"I feel a hundred years old," Blair complained as he stepped out of the shower. "Has Jake figured out yet that mom stayed over?"

"No, he's playing in his room. I don't even think he remembers we go to work today," Jim said from his spot in front of the mirror.

"Huh-oh. This could be bad."

"Nah, Naomi being here will help considerably."

"Good point."

Jim ran the razor under the water and did his right side. "She's making French toast and bacon."

"Oh, yeah, that'll help," Blair said as he toweled off. He slipped into his boxers and took up his spot at the second sink and pulled the hair dryer out of its holder. He plugged in the diffuser, set the dryer to cool, and started drying his hair while Jim finished shaving. They'd both been working on their "game faces" as Blair was calling it and were well into their performances – even with each other.

Jake lifted his ghosty and tilted his head. Something smelled … goooood. He got up, took Jakey off the bed, and walked into the hall. His daddies' door was open… which was good, but the smells from the kitchen drew him more than the idea of jumping into bed with whichever daddy wasn't in the kitchen. He tiptoed down the hall and peeked into the living room.

"wow."

The Aero bed.

Grinning, he ran pell-mell for the kitchen and burst through the door.

"my nomi!"

Naomi turned, spatula in hand, and grinned. She quickly dropped it on the counter next to the stove and bent enough to catch him as he flew into her arms. She scooped him up and they exchanged kisses, not an easy task considering he still held Jakey and Ghosty in his hands. Finally he leaned back in her arms and said, "you stayed the night, my nomi, and you didn't tell me?"

"Well, it was rather a last minute decision, sweetie. And then – well, it seemed like a great way to surprise you. Did it work?"

Jake giggled. "it worked gooooood!" He peeked over her shoulder and sniffed appreciably. "you're making frenchy toasty too! yummmmmmy!"

"Well, how could I not? And I noticed you have boysenberry syrup too."

"yipppppeeee!!! i have my nomi, frenchy toasty and boyzunburrry syrup."

Naomi walked over to the table and let him down so he could scramble up and onto the bench seat. Once settled with Jakey and Ghosty on the table discussing the merits of "boyzunburry" syrup or maple, she went back to cooking, a smile on her face.

"Better hurry, Chief. Breakfast is almost ready and Jake is chomping at the bit."

Blair stood up and pulled his sweater on over his head and then reached for his belt. Threading it through the loops, he said, "Why don't you go ahead, I'll be right behind you."

"Aht-aht, I so don't think so, Chief. If you think I'm going to be the first one into that kitchen dressed for work, well, you can think again, buddy."

Blair finished buckling before making flapping chicken-wing motions.

"Damn straight, Chief. We go together, face the music together."

"Bruck-bruck-bruck."

Laughing, Jim grabbed him and pulled him out the door.

Naomi could hear them approaching and immediately took the platter of warm French toast out of the oven. She arranged the bacon around the crunchy, golden brown pieces and walked over to the table. She set it down in the middle and said, "Okay, time to take Jakey and Ghosty off the table, honey."

"'kay!" He tucked them down next to him and leaned over to sniff the food again. "yum-yum, my nomi. can i—"

"Not quite yet, your dads should be walking in—"

"Right now," Jim said as he and Blair walked through the swinging door. "Something sure smells good."

"frenchy toasty, poppy. my nomi made us frenchy toasty!"

"Well, what do you know about that," Jim said as he kissed the top of Jake's head before sliding in next to him.

Blair walked over to the coffee maker, poured for himself, Jim and his mother, picked up all three mugs, kissed Naomi on the cheek, whispered, "Morning," and walked over to the table. He sat down on the other side of Jake, kissed him on the cheek and handed Jim his mug.

Naomi got the pitcher of orange juice out of the fridge as well as the milk and set them down on the table before sliding in next to Blair.

"I think we can eat now," Jim said, grateful that Jake hadn't noticed that both his parents were dressed for work.

His gratitude was short-lived.

"poppy? daddy? why are you all dressed up?"

"It's Monday," Blair said. "We go back to work today, remember? But you'll have your grandmother all day, plus, I'm thinking we meet for lunch later. Whatcha think, Hoss? Maybe Surf City?"

All three adults watched the play of emotion flit across Jake's face. First – bitter disappointment at remembering that his parents had to go to work, then hope at the promise of the day with Naomi, and brighter hope at the mention of lunch, to total happiness when Blair said the magic words, "Surf City." Now Jake was fairly bouncing in his seat as Jim dropped a slice of French toast on his plate and added two slices of bacon.

"surfy city, daddy? promuse?"

"Yep. Don't know what time, but definitely Surf City. Oh, and tomorrow after work, we have an appointment with your pediatrician, young man. It's been six months since your last physical and one is required for starting kindergarten, so I figured we'd get it out of the way. And a free sucker is nothing to sneeze at."

Naomi glanced over at Jim, who caught her look. Blair was amazing. He'd managed to ease Jake into the fact that they had to go to work today and the planned doctor visit for tomorrow. All without sounding odd, strange or worried.

Blair lifted the bottle of boysenberry syrup and said, "Need a bit more, Hoss?"

"please, daddy."

"You got it."

They continued to eat while talking about the party the day before and Jake offering suggestions on what everyone should order when they arrived at Surf City. He also pondered the great question of whether to pick a grape sucker tomorrow or an orange one. He finally decided, as he finished the last of his French toast, to choose grape so he could have a "pwerple" tongue.

The drive to the PD was made in silence, the traffic unusually heavy and keeping Jim's attention. For Blair's part, he was still reliving their goodbyes to Jake, which had fostered the natural desire to stay home with Jake until the entire mess was settled. He didn't want to let Jake out of his sight for one minute.

"Care to guess how many of our cases are still open, Chief?" Jim said as he pulled into the underground garage.

"Nope," Blair said.

Jim risked a glance at him as he waited for his chance to pull into his space. "Blair?"

"Hmm?"

"You…."

He stopped, the unwritten – and unspoken – agreement looming over them both. The squad car in front of him moved forward enough that he could make the turn, so he did. He pulled into his space and turned off the ignition. Unbuckling the seatbelt, he said conversationally, "I just hope the tough ones are closed. That's all I ask."

"Same here," Blair said as he got out of the truck.

Silently they walked over to the elevators. Jim pushed the up button and when the doors slid open, he ushered Blair inside.

As silent as their morning had been, the ride up equaled it. And it was just as well, Jim thought. He had work to do today – a plan to put into action. And if they talked – about Jake – he'd tell Blair, who'd talk him out of it.

As it happened, only two of their six reassigned cases were still open, one of them being a string of robberies at local bookstores, which just naturally recaptured Blair's interest. It had been obvious before they'd left that the reason for the robberies had not been money, but rather the books themselves. And they weren't even expensive books. Now, having just finished reading Megan's follow-up report, he got up and joined the Aussie at her desk. Perching on the edge, one leg swinging, he said, "Megan, you mentioned that the proprietor of 'Books Galore' lost an estimated twelve thousand in inventory. That's more stolen inventory than the other robberies combined."

She cocked her head in interest. "Your point?"

Blair tapped the folder on his lap thoughtfully as he asked, "Could this be a case of taking advantage of the other book thefts?"

"You mean – he did it himself?"

"Yeah. Did you happen to check his insurance policy?"

"No, it never occurred to us since that was clearly not the motive in the other thefts."

"Sure, makes sense, of course, but now, with this one… well, I think I'll make a couple of calls."

He started to get up but Megan reached out and snagged his shirt. "Wait, what was so other than more books?"

"You mean beyond the fact that this robbery involved thousands of dollars worth of books and the others only a few hundred?"

Rolling her eyes, Megan said, "Yeah, yeah, other than that. Damn, you rookies are so detailed oriented."

Smiling, Blair opened the folder and said, "As it happens, there's not only a monetary difference, but a difference in the book themselves. There was a correlation between the types of books stolen before and what this guy claims were stolen."

"Correlation? We didn't see one, Sandy. There didn't seem to be any—"

"Well, you see… the majority of books taken were non-fiction—"

"Yes, but some fiction."

"Actually, one book of fiction – I mean, our perp took the same title in all the robberies. He took all the copies in each store. Didn't you look at my chart?"

Megan had the grace to blush. "We did… but … we didn't get it. Sorry."

Smiling, Blair got up and said, "That's all right. My charts often defy understanding. They're my own kind of shorthand."

He walked back to his desk and his computer. He quickly brought up the theft chart in Excel and, for the next several minutes, alternated between studying the chart and going to Amazon in order to acquaint himself with the stolen books that he didn't know.

The one fictional book that had been stolen in each case, really captured his attention. It was by a French author and was called "Daddy." The story took place during World War II and involved a boy who held a series of bank codes in his head. The Nazis wanted the codes and the plot involved chasing down the boy while he outwitted them at almost every turn – with help from an American who, unknown to him, was his father.

Now that Blair had the time, he could see that all the non-fiction books were about famous – or infamous – Germans while the rest about well-known Nazi hunters or famous people who had known one or the other.

"Chief, I'm going to run upstairs to Forensics, see if anything came in on the gun found near the Jamison killing."

"Okay, I'll be here when you get back."

"Always good to know," Jim said dryly.

Blair looked up at that and grinned. A real one.

With the memory of that smile in mind, Jim walked out and over to the elevators.

"So nothing?"

"I'm afraid not, Jim. Sorry."

"That's okay, Serena. I really didn't think we'd get that lucky."

"There is one thing, though," she said, frowning. She pulled up a scan on her computer. "See?" She pointed to a photo of what looked like an interior view of the barrel of a gun. "There's a defect in the barrel. This would affect each shot, not to mention scarring the bullet in a manner totally different from the usual barrel markings."

"I see what you mean, but since the bullet that killed Jamison entered and exited and still hasn't been found-- "

"Exactly. But if you should find it…."

She let the sentence hang and smiled up at him. Laughing, he said, "Gee, you make me feel so much better."

"I do what I can, Jim."

"Yes, you do, and with that in mind, may I use your phone?"

"Of course."

He walked over to her desk and sat down. Taking out the business card Carl had given him, he quickly dialed.

"I'd like to speak with Mr. Sabotini. This is Detective Ellison."

He took a deep breath, exhaled, and started drumming his fingers on the desktop.

"Actually, it's looking good, but that's not why I'm calling. We… we have a problem and I think you can be of assistance. It's … serious."

There was silence and Jim found himself holding his breath.

"Can you meet me in an hour?"

"No, the Starbucks would be fine. And thank you. I'll see you in an hour."

"Hey, Chief. I'm suffering from withdrawal. I need a White Chocolate Mocha from Starbucks. You want the Americano or the Macchiato?"

"You buying?"

"Naturally."

"Okay, I'll take the Macchiato and a couple of the hazelnut-chocolate biscotti."

"You got it. Be back shortly."

Eyes on the computer screen, but smiling, Blair said again, "I'll be here."

Jim walked into the small Starbucks and spotted Sabotini immediately. He moved to the small table in the corner and sat down.

"Can I get you anything?" Carl asked.

Jim shook his head. "I'm on a coffee run so I'll hold off until we're done."

"Okay. So what's happened?"

Seeing only real concern in the oh-so-familiar blue eyes, Jim nodded more to himself than to Carl. "I assume you've already spoken to Naomi and you know that… I know… who you are -- or maybe I should say 'what' you are -- to Blair. I suppose I should have seen it sooner, so take my detective badge away from me. But that's not why I'm here. We could lose… we could lose Jake."

Jim took the next few minutes to fill Carl in on everything, including his idea. When he was done, he sat back feeling as though he'd just run a marathon.

Carl had listened attentively, jaw clenching several times throughout Jim's recitation. Now he said, "I'll make some phone calls, Detect—"

"I think we're at the first name stage now, don't you… Pops?"

Carl smiled with Blair's smile. "I'll make some phone calls… Jim. And we'll see what turns up. While the FBI has their ways and means, I think sometimes going the private route can accomplish a bit more and I have some excellent… investigators. Get me all the information you can from the agents and I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you… I really appreciate it."

"I think you know that no thanks are necessary. There's no way that boy isn't… he's yours and Blair's – I know this as surely as I knew Blair was my son. And speaking of which—"

"No, she didn't tell him for obvious reasons. I'm sorry, Carl."

"I can certainly understand that. He doesn't need any more to deal with right now – none of you do."

Jim nodded his agreement even as he started to push his chair back. "I need to get back. I don't want Sandburg to get suspicious and I still have to buy our drinks. I'll call you as soon as I have more information." He got up, reached into his wallet and drew out one of his cards. "This has my cell number on it. I think you'd better use it instead of our home phone."

Carl took the card. "Makes sense." He rose to his feet and added, "Take care of each other, Jim. Don't let this tear you two apart."

"Good advice. So good, we gave it to each other last night."

Carl grinned while reaching out a hand. Jim took it and they shook before Jim headed to the counter and Carl back up to his office.

"Here you go, one Macchiato and two biscotti. And do you have any idea what it does to the testosterone level in this place when you order biscotti?"

"Yep. Goes up at least forty percent. The Macchiato puts it over fifty."

"You're sick, Sandburg."

"That may be true, but I think I'm onto something with the bookstore thefts."

Jim sat down after giving Blair his Starbuck goodies and said, "Oh?"

"Yeah. Look at this." Blair rolled his chair a couple of feet so he was next to Jim, and set down a map. "The red 'x's' represent the bookstores that were hit. Notice anything?"

Jim studied the map as he took a sip of his coffee and finally tapped a black 'x' and asked, "What about this one?"

"I don't think that theft is part of these others. The inventory loss was huge. Megan and Joel are on it now.

"Good thinking. Okay, this circle? What does it represent?"

Pleased that Jim had pointed out the important circle, he answered, "That's 'The Nook'."

"Another bookstore?"

"Right."

"A bookstore right in the middle of the hit zone – and yet – not hit."

"Right again."

"So… our next hit?"

"I'm thinking … no. I'm thinking … our perp."

Stunned, Jim sat back. "Excuse me?"

"He's looking for something."

"He?"

"Or she. Someone who works at The Nook."

"Okay, what are you talking about?"

"All right, all right. This is going to sound weird – really weird – but—"

"Chief?"

"Okay, okay. See, almost all the books stolen were biographies or autobiographies of … you know… Germans. Primarily Germans who were—"

"Nazis, Gestapo, SS…."

"Uhm, yeah. Or Germans who knew—"

"Nazis, Gestapo agents, SS…."

"Uhm, yeah. But there was one book, a work of fiction called 'Daddy' and every single copy in each of the stores was also stolen. Now this book was about—"

"Nazis, Gestapo, SS…."

Blair sighed. "Who's telling this, you or me?"

"Both of us?" Jim said with his most charming smile.

"Stinker."

"Sorry. Go on," Jim said, not in the least bit contrite.

"Okay, this one book dealt with supposed Jewish money hidden away but sought after by the Nazis. A series of codes that would lead to the money had been memorized by a boy and it's this child that the Nazis are after. Now I think it was this book that got him – or her – going in the first place. I think they believe it."

"I admit it, you're losing me, Chief. Why would he or she steal the same book over and over again? That doesn't make any sense."

Blair's eyes widened. "Wow, you sounded just like your… I mean, you know, before we became… and I'd be rattling off some—"

"You mean … like now?" Jim said with a sly grin.

Blair rolled his eyes. "Okay, look, I think someone at The Nook is looking for clues to what they believe is a fortune in hidden money – a fortune that doesn't exist. But man, we're dealing with an idiot who believes the story in 'Daddy' – believes in it so much and is so insane that along with taking books that he or she thinks will help him locate the money, they're taking all existing copies of 'Daddy' so that no one else will trip to the supposed fortune. Get it? Now, obviously much of what they needed they got at The Nook, but they had to go outside the store for the rest as well as to get all the copies of 'Daddy'. That many books would cost a fortune, so … they started to steal them."

"Do you have any idea how crazy this sounds?"

"Jim," Blair almost whined. "What harm would it do if we just kind of stroll over to The Nook and do a little – you know -- police work? Check it out?"

"This is insane."

"You got a better idea?"

"No, damn it. Let's go."

"Huh?"

Jim stood up and grabbed their jackets. "Come on, Karnac, shake a leg."

Blair got up, took his jacket from Jim, grabbed his Starbucks cup … and shook his right leg.

A bell tinkled overhead as Jim pushed the door open and walked in, Blair right behind him. The Nook was actually quite charming, Jim thought as he looked around. The kind of place Blair would once have haunted.

Behind the counter stood a young blonde woman who smiled cheerily. "Welcome to The Nook. Anything in particular I can help you find, gentlemen?"

Smiling his most charming smile, Blair pushed past Jim and said, "I'm interested in biographies on famous Germans, circa World War II?"

"I see." She craned her neck and in a voice that while not loud, definitely carried, said, "Jeffrey?"

A tall, skinny young man poked his head around a stack of books. "Darla?"

"This gentleman is interested in biographies on famous Germans of World War II. Can you help him, please?"

Jim had been studying both employees – as only a sentinel could – and was mildly surprised when male clerk's heart started pounding like a jackhammer.

Unaware of what Jim was registering, Blair literally bounded over to the guy, looking all the world like the grad student he used to be. "Hey, yeah, can you point me in the right direction?"

"I… uhm, they're over—"

"I'm really interested in anything about Nazi Germany. I have this theory, see?"

"Theory?"

Blair put his finger to his lips and jerked his head to indicate the need to move away from the other patrons.

Jim wondered how their "interviews" had turned into this charade. On the other hand: Jeffrey was hooked – line and sinker.

The guy nodded warily and moved to a shelf in the right rear corner of the store, Blair following. Jim had no difficulty reading the heading on the shelf: Biographies. Satisfied that Blair was in control, he moved to the counter and began asking innocent questions about how she felt regarding the string of bookstore break-ins, but with his senses tuned into Blair.

Blair almost bumped into his quarry when the man came to an abrupt stop. He took two careful steps back and launched into his spiel.

"Okay, this is what I want. See, I have this theory about a hidden fortune, money that some of the most powerful Jewish bankers in Germany got out of the country before Hitler—"

Blair was prepared for almost anything – but not the small gun suddenly pulled from a hiding place on the shelf. A gun that was currently pointed at him.

"Who are you?" Jeffrey hissed out.

Putting his hands up in supplication, Blair said, "Whoa, man, what's up with you?"

"Who are you and what do you know?" He waved the gun for effect. "I'll shoot you down where you stand, I swear I will. The money's mine, I did all the research and damn it, it's mine."

"It's … the money… it's mine," Jeffrey whined. "It's mine."

"Sure it is, and I wouldn't dream of robbing you of it. So drop the fucking gun - Now."

The gun wavered, thanks to Jeffrey''s shaking hand, but then he dropped to the floor.

"Sandburg, you want to take care of that while I cuff this guy and read him his rights?" Jim said, indicating the gun.

"Sure, sure, and you're damn lucky it didn't go off when he dropped—"

"Safety was on, Chief," Jim said smugly.

"Well, of course it was," Blair huffed. He whipped out a glove, slipped it on his hand, took out a baggie and scooped the gun up and into the bag. While Jim finished reading the guy his rights, Blair labeled the baggie.

"Okay, partner, let's get out of here," Jim said as he moved their perp toward the exit.

"You guys are back one day and have already closed out one of your two open cases? That's … disgusting, man," Henri said as he sat down at his desk.

"I take it you found the stolen books?" Jim asked.

"We did," Rafe said. "His apartment was full of them. Along with a bunch of weird charts– the guy's a real whacko."

"So I've heard," Jim said with a smile aimed at his partner, who was currently typing up their report.

"And you were right about the other theft, Sandy. The guy did it for the insurance. Turns out he's been losing a lot of money through online gambling sites." She smiled at him and then asked, "Do we get to know how you figured this one out?"

"I don't know, how do you feel about traveling in the Sandburg Zone?" Jim said before Blair could answer.

Henri made the sign of the cross and Rafe said, "Where's my garlic necklace again?"

"You guys couldn't get into the Sandburg Zone if you tried," Blair said, eyes on the computer screen. "It's very elite and you don't have the chutzpah, let alone the moxie."

All four detectives exchanged stunned looks. "Moxie?" Brown said.

"Chutzpah?" Megan and Rafe said together.

"Elite?" Jim said, one eyebrow rising dangerously.

"Bite me," Blair said.

"So don't you want to know what happened with Serena?"

They were on their way to Surf City and their rendezvous' with Jake and Naomi, and Jim hadn't failed to notice how quiet Blair had gone since leaving the PD.

"Serena?"

"Me? Upstairs? Earlier this morning?"

"Oh, yeah. The Jamison killing."

"Yep."

Jim waited.

Nothing.

"Uhm, Sandburg? The Jamison killing?"

"What? Oh, yeah. So what happened?"

"Oh, well… nothing, exactly. Except the gun has a warped barrel."

"Oh, goody. So if we find the bullet, we can match it to the gun – which we can do anyway -- if we find the bullet and if the gun was the gun that was used."

"And just how many victims usually have wiped-clean gun on the floor a few feet from their bullet riddled bodies that wasn't the murder weapon?"

"I'm betting… tons," Blair said with a grin. Suddenly his grin faded. "Uhm, Jim?"

"Uhm, Blair?"

"Gun, dead body, no bullet."

"Gosh, thanks for the memory, Chief. I'll always cherish…."

Jim let the sentence fade as Blair's words began to sink in. He turned slowly to look at his partner and, with understanding dawning, said, "Because the bullet is in a…."

"Second person," they finished together.

"Damn, we must have really been busy thinking vacation to have missed this possibility, Jim."

"Hey, we had several other cases, higher priorities, give us a break."

Smiling, Blair nodded. Then the smile faded as he said thoughtfully, "The wife had an iron-clad alibi and was never seriously a suspect."

"And the brother, who had an equally iron-clad alibi, had motive based on the will," Jim said.

"And let's not forget the business partner who also had motive and, unfortunately, an alibi, if we count a girl friend who had everything to lose by ratting on him."

Eyes narrowing in concentration, Jim said, "And… he was favoring his right arm."

"But he had an iron-clad alibi," Blair reminded.

"But you said – you were cold, Chief. Remember? We walked in and you shivered. We were first on the scene, the maid had just turned on the heat. My sense of touch was turned down, thanks to the cold, damp weather—"

"You being so much older than me and thus more affected by such things," Blair offered innocently.

"Laugh a minute, Sandburg. Laugh a minute."

"So what you're saying, besides me being a laugh a minute, is that—"

"They had the air up—"

"Right, timer. I remember seeing it."

"Yep. So our killers turned the A/C on, set the timer based on their knowledge of when the maid was due to report for work, and thus threw off the time of death. Which would or could, blow their alibis to smithereens."

"Now there's a word I don't normally associate with you, Jim. Smithereens. It just doesn't normally roll off your tongue, you know?"

"We're here, so I will refrain from knocking you silly."

"Let alone to smithereens."

For all their attempts at normalcy – it was obvious by the fact that they didn't turn the truck around and head back to the PD with their new found knowledge regarding the Jamison killing – that nothing was normal. They had no intention of missing lunch with Jake.

Surf City was a small restaurant owned by a retired surfer from California and had been designed to look like the hamburger shacks that used to dot the coast from Huntington Beach to Big Sur. Surf boards of all ages, sizes and colors hung from the ceiling and the wooden slat walls held photos of famous surfers from as far back as the twenties.

Naomi and Jake were already seated at a table – Jake's favorite – the u-shaped booth under the "Big Gun", a big wave surfboard supposedly ridden by Peter Cole at Makaha. Jake had heard all about the great surfers of the fifties and sixties while sitting under the board for the first time many months previously. He'd instantly become enamored of these "big wave" heroes, not to mention his poppy, whom he also considered a big wave hero.

Jim and Blair slid in, Jim next to Naomi and Blair next to Jake, who immediately made himself at home on his lap while saying, "you were late, daddy and poppy. you be bad."

Jim looked at his watch and said, "Hey, we're right on time, Hoss."

"nuh-huh. we been here forever," he said, punctuating it with a firm nod of his head.

"Well, we've been here for ten minutes, anyway," Naomi added with a fond smile directed at her grandson.

"that's what i said, my nomi. forever."

"We're here now, Hoss," Blair said. "So do you know what you want?"

"i'm going to have the dukey burger, wavey fries and a choc-co-laty malt."

"Hmm, sounds good. I think I'll have the same, only with avocado on mine," Blair said. "And a Coke instead of the malt. And maybe the Wedge fries instead of the Big Wave fries."

"Gee," Jim said as he picked up the menu, "I'm glad you're having what Jake's having."

Blair chuckled and said, "And like you really need that menu? Like you're not going to have what you always have?"

"Actually, I'm thinking of having the … London Burger today, so there, Sandburg."

"Jim, that's the fish burger. You hate fish burgers."

"Oh, did I say the London Burger? I meant the …Woody burger. Yeah, the Woody burger." Looking supremely pleased with himself, he put the menu down and smirked.

Before Blair could say anything, the waiter arrived, pen and pad in hand.

"What can I get you guys, today? Jake?"

"i'll have the dukey burger, wavy fries and a—"

"Let me guess – a choc-co-laty malt?" the waiter said, grinning.

"yup! you know me goooood."

Laughing, he turned to Naomi, who said, "I'll have vegetarian chili, please. And … a Diet Coke."

"Got it. Jim?"

Looking smug, Jim said, "I'll have the Woody burger, an order of the curly fries, and coffee. Thanks, Todd."

"A Woody burger?" the young waiter asked. "Are you sure?"

"Oh, he's sure, Todd," Blair said with a mischievous grin.

"O-kay. So that just leaves you, Blair."

"I'll have the Duke burger with avocado, curly fries and a Coke. Oh, and hold the onions on the burger."

"Right. Okay, got it all. Be back with your drinks in a minute, guys."

Looking almost angelic, Blair said, "Isn't it great, mom? Jim joining you in a vegetarian meal?"

"Why, yes, dear. I was just going to say something." She looked over at Jim. "I never would have pegged you as Portobello man."

Frowning, Jim said, "Huh?"

"Portobello, Jim. You ordered the Portobello burger." It was now Blair's turn to look smug.

"Oh, yeah, of course. I knew that."

"Sure you did, Jimbo. Sure you did."

The slurping noises emanating from the vicinity of Blair's lap were muted enough not to bother the other patrons – which was a good thing – because Jim didn't want the wonderful sound of his son sucking up his malt, or slurping the drippings of said malt from the end of a French fry, to stop. There was nothing in the world to compare to watching Jake dunk French fries into a malt. Unless it was Blair sneaking one and doing the same.

Jim sat back to enjoy the view, his own burger temporarily forgotten.

Naomi nudged him and when he tore his gaze from his partner and son, she winked. He grinned and, for a moment, the future was forgotten.

"Okay, I admit it. I didn't have a clue what a Woody burger was – but darn, this was good," Jim said as he dropped his napkin on the now empty plate.

"Well, duh. The steak of the mushroom world, Jim. Now the next time I try to fix you one, you won't grumble so much."

"Yes, I will, but only because you'd expect it."

Blair, ever the grown-up, stuck his tongue out at Jim before looking down at his son, who was still on his lap. "Well, Hoss, poppy and I have to get back to the station, but we'll see you later, okay?"

Jake just shook his head and smiled beguilingly.

"I suppose you think that because you're on my lap, I won't be able to get up?"

Jake didn't answer, but his smile grew by half.

Blair lifted him easily and set him down on Naomi's lap.

Pouting, Jake said, "unfair."

"All's fair in love and work, welp. But how 'bout we make something special for dinner tonight?"

"what?" Jake said, not yet willing to give in.

"Ummm, Jim, got any ideas?"

"Fried chicken?"

Jake's eyes lit up. "mmmm… and i want chicken wings with blue cheesy dressing!"

"Wow, that sounds good," Blair said, nodding sagely.

"Okay, then, fried chicken it is, with some wings for the Jakemeister. Naomi, can we pick anything special up for you to go with the rest of the dinner?"

"Don't worry about me, Jim. I'll fix something when I get home."

"No, mom. You'll eat with us," Blair said, his tone brooking no argument.

Hearing what Blair wasn't saying, she nodded and said, "In that case, I'll have a salad and you've got the makings for that already."

"Okay. Chief, we're out of here." He picked up the tab, checked it, said, "I assume dessert is in order, Hoss?"

"oh, well… maybe," Jake said with a sigh.

"Scamp," Jim said as he dropped two twenties on the table. "This should cover lunch and dessert, Naomi. We'll see you between five and six."

She nodded, knowing that their late afternoon would be spent with two FBI agents.

"bye daddy, poppy. hurry home, 'kay?"

"We will, welp," Jim assured as Blair kissed Jake on the cheek before sliding out of the booth and joining him

Somehow both of them made it out of the restaurant in spite of their son's waving – and sad looks.

"He knows something's up, Jim," Blair said as he climbed into the truck. "He just doesn't know what. That's why he sat on my lap all through lunch."

"You may be right, but as long as this is the worse we encounter, I can live with it."

Blair's eyes on the receding restaurant, simply nodded.

As they got out of the elevator, Jim said, "They're here. I can hear them in Simon's office. Richard's with them."

"They're early," Blair said miserably.

They both pushed their way through the double doors and entered just as Simon, who had to have been watching for them, came out of his office and waved them over.

"Simon, we have a possible breakthrough in the Jamison killing. Who can we—"

"Use Joel and Connor and when you've caught them up, come on in."

"Yes, sir."

Fifteen minutes later, arrangements with Connor and Joel had been made for interviewing everyone again, and getting a warrant so that a certain Josh Cummings, ex-business partner to Ron Jamison, deceased, could be checked by a court physician for a bullet wound.

They both walked into Simon's office with varying degrees of dread and nervousness.

"So that's basically it, Captain Banks," Paul McNamara said from his seat at the conference table. "We're still looking for Paul Charbeau but there's no doubt of his tie-in with Diane Porter."

"But there is doubt that Jake is the Lloyd baby, let alone that the child was taken by Charbeau, or even that the child was taken as a result of this 'Wings of a Dove' agency. That's all just conjecture on your part, correct?" Blair asked.

"In a way, yes. But our evidence—"

"That's just it – you don't have any real evidence to support any of this," Jim said. "Not that I wouldn't have drawn similar conclusions. Two babies kidnapped and tied into Wings of a Dove, and a third child taken a couple of days after the request comes in – sure, sure. But, no evidence. Nothing."

"Except that the man who kidnapped the other two babies was hired to find a baby boy, and he shows up in Boston with money, a woman, and a baby that matched the description."

Jim had no answer to that, but Blair did.

"You really think this Charbeau character would keep the baby simply because he suddenly… what… fell in love? So he becomes a family man rather than get paid off on delivery?"

Stiller scratched the back of his head as he said, "We thought of that, but until we find him, we'll never know what was going on in his mind. For all we know, Silver refused to pay off so Charbeau kept the baby."

"We can go around and around on this, but it won't do any of us any good," Mackie said reasonably. "The DNA test could end this whole thing."

"What about Mark Silver?" Blair suddenly asked. "You haven't found him either, have you?"

"No, we haven't. But we're still searching. We just got lucky with Charbeau and his past residences first, that's all," Stiller explained.

"Do the … do the Lloyds know about… Jake?" Blair asked.

Mackie shook his head. "No. We have DNA on both parents – that was done a few months after their child was taken, so we've held off saying anything. Getting their hopes up after all this time would only be cruel. Besides, they're divorced. He still lives in Maryland but she's remarried and now lives in Florida."

Jim looked up at that. "Remarried?"

"Yes," Stiller said.

"What kind of investigation was done on the Lloyds?" Jim asked, his detective's curiosity piqued by that bit of unusual information.

"Typical, according to the files. Naturally when we took over, we reviewed all reports and interviews," Mackie said.

"Of course. But … as a cop, it's been my experience that a mother who has lost a child, especially in such way as to deprive her of closure, well, if the marriage does fall apart, the mother rarely, if ever, remarries. They never stop looking and hoping."

"In this case, it's the father who fits that bill. He joined a parents group, advertised – still advertises – went to the media, the works. He sold the house, lives in a small apartment and uses his money to fund various private detectives," Mackie offered.

"I see," Jim said thoughtfully.

"So what happens after tomorrow?" Simon asked.

"We await the results," Stiller said. He looked at Jim and Blair and added, "We know how hard this will be for you both, and if we could have… if there were any other way…."

"Thank you," Blair said as he glanced over at Jim.

"The lab you'll be using?" Mackie asked. "It's reliable?"

"I checked into it," Simon said. "They have an excellent rating."

Mackie nodded. "You realize we'll need to be there… to follow the protocol?"

Jim and Blair nodded with Jim saying, "Understood."

"He won't know who we are," Stiller assured. "We have no desire to disrupt the boy's life—"

"The boy's name is Jacob. Jake for short," Jim said gruffly.

"I'm sorry," Stiller said, meaning it.

Blair shot Jim a look, which clearly said, "Cut it out." Jim shrugged.

"Look," Mackie said as he leaned forward. "This is an FBI investigation into what amounts to a kidnapping ring. Our job isn't to take Jake away from you, all right? It's to get to the truth. No courts are involved at this stage and won't be unless the DNA tests show – well, you know. At that point, we'll have to turn over the results of our investigation and then you'll be dealing with the system. In the meantime, well, anything you can find that can shed some light on Jake's history would be pretty damn valuable."

"We've done that," Blair said. "There are photos of Jake with Diane and that's it. And there are only a handful of those, all taken when Jake was about two or so. But given Diane's life – that isn't a surprise. Taking pictures of your baby when what you were really worried about was where your next fix would be coming from wouldn't be top of Diane's list of things to do, if you know what I mean. There are no photos of Diane or Jake with anyone else other than Karen. That photo had to have been taken just before Diane took off, leaving Jake with Karen."

"Were there any baby clothes? Anything in Diane's possession that showed she'd had Jake before he was ten or eleven months old?"

Blair shook his head. "All he had were a few outfits and toys and that's it. Karen brought it all with her."

"That proves nothing, given Diane's lifestyle," Jim said.

"True, but if there'd been baby clothes, that would have been helpful in proving that Jake was Diane's natural child," Mackie said.

"What does Jake remember?" Stiller asked. "I mean, surely you've had discussions about his mother, his life—"

"He remembers very little of those days," Blair said tersely. "He doesn't even remember the flight here with Karen. At the funeral… there was a portrait of Diane. He didn't know who it was. Didn't recognize her. We know his life with her wasn't a dream life. Diane did her best, but… well, she was a junkie, to put it bluntly. The best thing she ever did for him was to leave him to Karen."

"I see. Well, it was an… idea."

Jim looked at his watch, got to his feet, and said, "We have work to finish and we want to get home to our… to our son. I think we've exchanged all that we can with each other, and Detective Sandburg and myself appreciate your attitude in this. You have our home address and phone numbers, so if you don't mind?"

Mackie stood, as did Stiller. Mackie smiled and said, "Of course, we understand. We'll be at the clinic tomorrow, but as we said, we'll stay out of your way. We'll ensure protocol, find out the turn around on the results, and that will determine our next step." He held out his hand to Jim and after they shook, he did the same with Blair. Stiller followed suit before Jim and Blair, with a look to their boss, walked out, closing the door behind them.

Going to their respective desks, both men sank into their chairs. It had been decided to keep the investigation to themselves, to keep their friends out of it until they had something to tell, but as Blair looked around, he wondered at the wisdom of the decision. They could really use their friends about now.

And yet, why bum everyone out with what might happen?

"I see Connor and Joel are gone. I guess that means they're still working on the Jamison case," Jim observed.

"Yeah."

"You okay?"

Blair nodded. "I'm just damn grateful we take loads of pictures."

Jim gave out with a small laugh. "Yeah. He'll have those memories when he's older. He'll know he had a childhood with us."

"Don't say it like that," Blair said harshly. "Don't ever say it like that."

Puzzled, Jim started to ask what Blair was talking about – and then it hit him.

"You know that's not what I meant, Chief. I swear it."

Blair's eyes brightened with moisture and he blinked hard before saying, "Sorry, Jim. I know. I know. It just… it became … real in there, you know?"

Wanting nothing more than to reach out and hold him, Jim nodded. "I know." Suddenly he pushed back his chair and said, "Come on, follow me."

"Jim?"

"Just … come on."

Blair got up and followed Jim to the elevator. When it opened, they got inside and Jim pushed the button for the top floor. When they arrived, he started for the stairs that led to the roof, Blair following.

Once outside, in the fresh air, Jim did what he'd wanted to do downstairs. He pulled Blair into his arms.

"Jesus, Jim," Blair said, voice slightly muffled thanks to his face being buried against Jim's shirt.

"Just shut up and let me hold you."

"Not a hardship, Jim. Not a hardship."

"I'm going to duck in there," Jim said as they got off the elevator on their floor. "Need to… you know."

"Go, do. Looks like Connor and Joel are back so I'll see what's up."

"Good. Be right back."

Blair nodded and, as soon as he entered the squad room, Jim went into the men's room.

Once inside, and certain he was alone, he whipped out his cell. He got out the card with Carl's number, punched it in, and waited.

"It's Detective Ellison. Have a pen handy?"

Jim rattled off all the important information and Charbeau's name as well as Mark Silver's. When he was done, he said, "Is there any way you can check on a Jane Lloyd? She's remarried, obviously has a new surname. But I do know she's now living in Florida."

"Yes."

Smiling at the surprise in Carl's voice, Jim said, "Yep. Which is why—"

There was a slight pause and then….

Jim frowned, surprised that Carl had him figured out.

The simple truth of Carl's words hit him like a sledgehammer and he felt his plan threatened.

Jim turned toward the wall, closed his eyes, and rested his forehead against the cool tile. Damn it.

God. Damn. It.

Jim lifted his head as he realized what Carl Sabotini had just said.

There was nothing Jim could say, so he didn't.

"Thank you, Carl."

"Yes, I know. I know." And he did.

Jim disconnected and pocketed the phone. He walked over to the sink, turned on the water, bent over and splashed his face several times. When he felt the heat dim, and the tears that had threatened, subside, he straightened, pulled out some paper towels and dried off.

He looked at his reflection and immediately closed his eyes.

"Please," he whispered. "Please."

"So we've got 'em?"

"Yep. It was beautiful, Jim," Joel said. "All we had to do was show him the warrant and he broke. I mean, we were on shaky ground, you know? The DA knew it too, so did Judge Monroe. But he didn't. He didn't have a clue that all he had to say to any doctor attempting to remove the bullet was no."

"But he didn't," Blair said with a smile.

"Nope, he didn't. Serena's doing the match now, but with his confession and fingering the brother as having pulled the trigger, we've got a slam dunk," Joel said as he rose up on his toes, clearly pleased.

"I don't know how you two do it. Now you've solved both your cases and in one day," Megan said as she huffed hair out of her face.

"Ah, but you broke this one," Blair admonished.

"No, we did your leg work. You broke it," Megan shot back.

"Well, Chief, I guess that means our work here is done. Time to ride out of town, leaving behind the beholden poor folk."

"I'm right behind you, Butch."

Megan poked Joel and said, "Guess that makes him the Sundance Kid."

"Or something," Jim shot back as he tossed Blair's jacket to him.

Smiling sweetly, Blair turned back to Joel and Megan and said, "I use Butch as a nickname to help him feel more … you know ... butch. Why, with all the flowered aprons, sewing on buttons, baking chocolate chip cookies…."

"Ah, yes, I see," Megan said, grinning. "See you tomorrow… Butch."

Jim shook his head helplessly, grabbed a chunk of Blairhair, and started tugging him out the door.

"Ow! Hey, man, watch the hair…."

Carl Sabotini hung up the phone. He'd contacted everyone necessary and now his jet was waiting for him. There were some things better left to others … and some he needed to oversee himself. He stood up, straightened the desk, shut down his computer, and walked over to the small closet by the door. He took down his coat, slung it over his arm, and walked out.

"Jessie, were you able to—"

"Everything has been rescheduled, sir. The helicopter is on the roof and your flight plan to Washington has been filed."

"Damn, what would I do without you."

"Fall apart, sir."

"Right. Remind me to give you a raise upon my return."

Smiling, Jessie Wilder, Executive Assistant to Carl for the last fifteen years, said, "Memo already done, sir."

"See you in three days – or less."

With that, he walked over to his private elevator, pushed the silver button labeled "HP" and, when the door slid open, stepped in. Jessie waved goodbye as the door slid shut. A few moments later, he was on the pad, wind rifling through his hair as, bent over, he hurried toward the waiting helicopter.

"Sir, we're ready to take off."

"Good, good. Let's get this thing in the air."

He climbed aboard, followed by his pilot, Ken Stark. Seatbelt in place and with headphones on, he signaled Stark to lift off.

"poppy! daddy!"

Jake ran across the kitchen floor and straight into his father's arms. He was immediately lifted high into the air over Jim's head. Giggling and kicking, Jake said, "higher, poppy, higher!"

Laughing, Jim said, "This is as high as my arms go, Hoss." With that, he started to turn in circles as Jake put out his arms to emulate an airplane.

Blair put the bag of groceries on the table and watched Jim and Jake, an almost bittersweet expression on his face.

"Honey?"

He tore his gaze from Jake's laughing face to look at his mother. "Hey, mom."

"How was the… rest of the day?"

He knew what she was asking and he shrugged. "Not bad. Not bad at all."

She pulled him into a quick hug before ruffling his hair.

"Okay, what's with the hair today?" he asked, grinning.

"It's there, honey. It's just… there."

Jim was letting Jake down and once his feet hit the ground, he was launching himself at Blair, who caught him. "So how was your afternoon, Hoss?"

Settling in his father's arms, Jake put his hands on either side of Blair's face and, head cocked, said, "how was your day, daddy?"

Blair blinked at his son, and Jim, who was now standing in front of him, saw something flash in Blair's eyes before his expression settled into a normal one.

"It was all right, welp. We solved two cases."

Nodding wisely, Jake said, "you be the bestest!"

Slowly Blair cupped the back of Jake's head and gently brought Jake toward him. Jake rested his cheek against his father's even as he patted the other cheek.

Jim thought they were witnessing something very … special, but he wasn't certain what it was. He only knew that it warmed his heart as nothing else could.

Jake was at the kitchen table coloring in one of his books while Jim, Blair and Naomi prepared the fried chicken, including Jake's wings. Corn on the cob and fruit salad rounded out the meal. The plan for the evening was dinner, story reading and quiet play. Somehow, it had been tacitly understood that Naomi would not return to the loft until … just … until.

If it seemed that such a decision flew in the face of their plan to act completely normal, well, so be it.

"yum-yum," Jake said as he tore into one of his wings. "i love fried chicken."

"That's a good thing, Jake," Naomi said over her fruit salad and corn. "There's enough here for two more days. Maybe we'll take some to the park tomorrow?"

"can we ask cherry and cork to come too, my nomi?"

"I see no reason why not. There's enough for all of us plus dinner tomorrow night. We'll call them in the morning, all right?"

"'kay! cork loves poppy's chicken. do we have any cheeeeeeetos?" he asked with a hopeful smile.

"If not, we'll get some on our way to the park."

"yippppeeee!"

Dinner was completed in fun, gentle talk and laughter. When they were done, while Naomi and Blair cleaned up, Jim took Jake into the bathroom for his "tub time".

"i think shamu should swim the channel, poppy," Jake said as he maneuvered his rubber whale through the bathwater.

"You do? And why is that?"

"because he would take me and i'd be the youngest ever to swim it."

"Ah."

Jim knew that at his swim workouts, they were learning the history of swimming and he could guess that swim challenges, like swimming the English Channel, must have come up. And speaking of workouts….

"Don't we take you to the pool on Wednesday?" he asked as he gently washed Jake's back with the sudsy wash cloth.

"yup! we're gonna learn the dofin kick," Jake said as he dove Shamu under the water only to rise up again in order to make a spectacular dive that succeeded in splashing water over Jim.

"Yo, Flipperman, watch the splashing," he said with a laugh as he wiped suds from his face.

Giggling, Jake said, "i'm gonna go under with shamu. wanna watch?"

"More than anything, Jake. More than anything. I'll give you the three-count, okay?"

"'kay!"

"One… two… three!"

Jake dove under with his rubber whale and came up a moment later, spluttering and laughing as he blew suds in the air. "me an' shamu be the bestest!"

"And the soapiest, Hoss," Jim said as he prepared to rinse off his junior guppy. "Let's rinse you off, okay?"

Jake nodded happily as Jim pulled the plug on the tub and picked up the sprayer. As the water started to drain, Jake stood up, Shamu in hand.

Setting the nozzle on gentle, Jim aimed and said, "You ready for the Super-Duper Waterfall, Hoss?"

"i be ready, poppy!"

Jake squeezed his eyes shut and Jim lovingly rinsed him off from the top of his silky curls to his toes as the last of the water drained out. He turned off the water, took the big whale towel from the rack and said, "Come on, kiddo, time to exit the bath before you turn into a frog."

"ribbit-ribbit," Jake said conversationally. He put Shamu in his rack and raised his arms so Jim could wrap him up and lift him out.

They had fun playing hide-and-seek with the towel while Jim got him dried off, then more fun while he towel-dried the curly hair, Jake pretending to be, alternately, a ghost and Dumbledore. Finally he was in his pajamas (the shorts and tank version) and Jim helped him into his robe.

"Come on, O Great Wizard, let's go see what your other dad is up to. I heard tell of some story-telling tonight."

"ab-so-lute-leeee!"

Naomi had left for a couple of hours – visiting a friend, she claimed, but Blair figured she was just giving them some privacy, so their evening with Jake concluded with a Disney video -- The Lion King, of course -- before they finally got Jake – growling all the way – to bed. Neither of them were surprised that Jakey had to share sleeping space with Simba.

Walking back out into the living room, Jim picked up the TV Guide and perused it for a few moments before saying, "Law and Order is on tonight. Sounds good."

"You hate that show, Jim," Blair said as he moved quietly about the room, picking up after their son.

"Oh, it's kind of fun to watch, actually. Just when you think they're conforming to reality -- bam -- they slip into La-La land."

"It's not on until ten and it's only eight. Any sports worth watching?"

"Nope. At least not on television," Jim said with a waggle of his eyebrows.

"What, you've got a hankering to play a little … ball?"

Jim dropped the TV Guide in disgust and said, "Sandburg, that's just too… there's no way I can say what I should say to that. Just… no way."

"What, you can do sports analogies but I can't? Now go ahead, give it a try."

Closing his eyes, Jim sighed and finally said, "I'm thinking of playing with … a couple of balls." He opened his eyes and said, "There. Satisfied?"

"Depends. You going to be selfish and only play with your balls, or are we going to trade off?"

"Playing with my own isn't even an option. You have way better balls to play with, Chief. No contest."

"And I was just thinking the same thing about yours. So we trade off."

Jim reached out and pulled Blair to him. "What about our … bats?"

"We can't neglect them. Besides, you can't really play with balls without including the bats, now can you?"

"Not in my world, anyway," Jim said as he slid the zipper down on Blair's jeans.

"I love your world, Jim. Better than the Sandburg Zone any day of the week," Blair said as he started unbuttoning Jim's shirt.

Burying his face in Blair's hair, Jim murmured, "No, no, no. Zone good place, best place, only place for me."

Blair listened to Jim breathe. It was the sound he needed at the moment – okay, maybe he could use the sound of one other individual's breathing – but right now, it was Jim's that anchored him.

Blair closed his eyes and thought of a young mother who'd simply run inside to answer the phone. That was it – just -- quickly answer the phone. An action that had led to over four years without her baby. He thought of the father, hearing the panicked news for the first time, his heart cracking as half his brain screamed the hopeless truth while the other half held out hope like water to a man dying in the desert.

If Jake… if Jake turned out to be that little boy that had been playing happily in a playpen – could Blair hand him over to his… real … parents?

He closed his eyes against the tears but felt a couple escape and crawl sadly down his cheeks.

Because the answer was yes. He knew of no other way.

And no way to live once Jake was gone.

"what time again?"

"After work. We'll swing by here, pick you up and go see the doctor," Blair said as he ran a hand through Jake's curls.

"Honey, why don't I pack up the rest of the chicken, whip up a pasta salad and we'll go to the park by Edison Square for dinner?"

Blair started to say no since Jake would already have had a picnic with his friends, when Naomi gave a small shake of her head. "We checked while you and Jim were getting dressed. Corky and his brother are spending the day with their grandmother and Cherry isn't feeling well, so no picnic today."

"cherry has allur… allur… gees," Jake said sadly. "an' cork's mom and daddy had to go away for the day so he had to stay with his gammy but he wershed he could stay here with me an' my nomi. he says his gammy is old and they can't talk loud or do anything or play in the house."

"Well," Jim said softly, "I guess we're going to have a picnic tonight after the doctor then. Right, Hoss?"

"whoooopeee!"

"And Naomi won't forget picking up some Cheetos, either, will she?" Blair hinted.

"No," Naomi said, "she won't."

Tuesday went all too fast for both Jim and Blair. A day that should have dragged by, zipped by instead. When it seemed they'd just arrived, it was already time to pick up Jake and Naomi. Simon had tried to keep both men busy but life seemed intent on making things too easy. A new case that should have kept Jim and Blair hopping, ended less than an hour after being assigned to them, thanks to a wife who found herself unable to live with the guilt of killing an abusive husband.

At three fifteen, Jim and Blair wrapped up the paperwork and were ready to leave when Simon walked out of his office and over to Jim's desk. Looking only slightly uncomfortable, he said, "I thought… I thought I might stop by tonight. See… you all."

Blair paused in the task of straightening a pile of paper to look up in surprise. "Hey, that'd be great, man. Why don't you join us for our little park picnic after the… you know."

Looking almost painfully eager, Simon said, "Really? You sure?"

"Of course we are," Jim assured. "Just stop at the deli and bring more food," he teased with a grin.

"Are you implying I eat more than my fair share, Detective?"

"Yes, he was, Simon," Blair answered for his partner. "So bring more."

Laughing, Simon nodded. "Done deal. Meet you at the park around … five? And which… you know… park?"

Jim was bouncing Jake on his knee while Jake tried to read one of the children's books in the reception area of Dr. Weinstein's office. Jake's giggles were filling the room, which, other than Jim, Blair and Jake, was empty. They'd already filled out the paperwork for the "special" visit and Jim knew from the voices on the other side of the partition that at least one agent, Paul McNamara was in Howard's office.

The door to the inner sanctum opened and Julie, Howard's head nurse and office manager, poked her head out and said, "Jake, the doctor is ready for you now."

Jim stopped his jiggling legs and let Jake slide off his lap. Blair rose to his feet and, together, all three moved forward. This surprised Jake, who turned and said, "both?"

"Your daddy wants a sucker too, Jake," Jim said with a grin.

"oh. i'll pick him out a good one, 'kay?"

"You do that, Hoss," Jim said, his hand on the top of Jake's head. "I know you'll pick the bestest."

"yup!"

They walked in and, after his weight and height were checked by Julie, were shown to the first examining room. Inside, Blair sat on the examining bed while Jim lifted Jake and set him on Blair's lap before sitting down in the one available chair.

"Jake, you're going to have two things today that you've never had before, okay?"

"i am, daddy?"

"Yep. First, he's going to do all the usual, like check your eyes, ears, nose and throat. Then he's going to take what's called a 'swab' from your mouth."

Jake's eyes grew round as his hand flew to his mouth. "i have swa…sawbs… in my mouth?"

Grinning, Blair said, "No, Hoss. A swab simply means he'll take a Q-tip and run it along the inside of your mouth. That's all. Then he's going to take some blood from your finger."

Jake looked down at his hand, held it up, and peered at his fingers. "how?" he asked, curious.

"Well, this is the part you won't be overly found of – because like Sleeping Beauty, he's going to have to prick your finger. But you'll barely feel it, I promise."

"he's gonna prick me??" Jake said, astonished.

Smiling gently, Blair nodded. "But again, you'll barely feel it."

"In fact," Jim interjected, "I bet you don't feel it at all. I'll even go one better and bet that you won't even know when he does it. Care to take me on, Hoss?"

His lower lip protruding, Jake looked closely at his finger, then at his father. "how much?"

"Ever practical, our son," Blair snickered.

"Fifty cents," Jim said, pretty darn gone practical himself.

Jake held out his pinky finger and Jim crooked his around it and they shook.

"Hey, Jake, my man," Howard Weinstein said as he walked in. "How we doing?"

"we're doing bery good," Jake said happily. "even though my daddy says you're going to prick me!"

Only slightly taken back, Howard smiled and said, "Well, I am going to take a bit of blood from your finger shortly, but you'll barely—"

"feel it. i know, my daddy and poppy tol' me. an' you're going to sawb me too!"

Exchanging amused looks with Blair and Jim, Howard nodded. "Yes, I am. Sounds like you're very prepared for me today."

Looking concerned, Jake said, "i don't know – do you have looooots of suckers? daddy wants one too!"

"I'm pretty sure I have enough, of all flavors, Jake." He rolled the stool over and sat down in front of Jake and Blair. In the next few minutes, he did everything Blair had told Jake he would. Being a good patient, he only giggled a little when Howard checked his ears. He liked having his temperature taken since he didn't need to hold anything in his mouth and was always amazed by the fact that something stuck under his arm could tell everyone what his temp was.

"Uhm, ninety-eight point six, young man. Absolutely perfect."

"a'course," Jake said.

Laughing, Howard then took out a small packet. "Okay, time for the swab. You ready?"

"yup!"

"Okay, but first, I'm going to invite someone to join us. He's learning how to do things like this. Do you mind, Jake?"

"nope!"

"Good." Howard got up, walked over to the door, opened it and motioned to someone just outside. The someone turned out to be Paul McNamara.

The agent stepped inside and smiled at Jake. "Hi."

"hi. i'm jake."

"How do you do, Jake. Thank you for letting me watch. I really appreciate it."

"that's okay. ya gotta learn. i watch swumming all the time so i can get better."

"You swim, Jake?"

Jake nodded excitedly, puffed out his chest, and proclaimed, "i'm a guppy on the dofins!"

"Wow, I'm impressed."

"And I," Howard interrupted, "have a swab to do."

"Oops," Mackie said with a conspiratorial wink for Jake.

"oops."

Laughing, Howard leaned forward, Q-tip in hand, and said, "I want you to open wide… that's it, and I'm just going…to run this… inside your cheek… like… so. There, got it." He immediately opened a small squared piece of paper and ran the cotton over the inside surface. He snapped it closed, took out his pen and wrote quickly before dropping it and the Q-tip back into the original bag, upon which he did some more writing. He then swiveled around and held the bag up to McNamara. "If you'd take this?"

"Of course, Doctor." He took it, but didn't leave.

"Jake, you ready for the final test?" Howard asked as he took yet another packet from his other pocket.

"is this where you're gonna prick me like sleeping beauty?"

"Well, I'm no wicked witch, and I have no spinning wheel, but yeah, this is where I'm going to take a bit of blood."

"'kay, but i think i should get two," he wiggled two fingers in Howard's face, "suckers!"

Looking over at Blair, Howard said, "Oh, he's good."

Laughing, Blair said, "Yep. Takes after his poppy."

"Speaking of which," Jim said. "We need to decide which finger to use." He winked at Howard and moved to stand in such a manner as to almost block Jake's view of his doctor.

Howard took Jake's right hand and said, "Mmm, good idea. How do you suggest we do this, Jim?"

Even as he asked, he was taking out the required lancet and alcohol swab packet.

"Well, as it happens, I have a very special coin." He dipped into his pocket and took out a handful of change. "Now if I can just find it...."

Jake was so involved in watching his father look for a magic coin that he never noticed Howard swabbing down his index finger.

"Ah, here it is. Okay, this coin is magical, Jake. When I toss it in the air, it will tell me which finger to use, meaning which finger won't feel the prick at all. If it comes down heads, we use your right finger and if it comes down tails, we use your left finger. See?"

"ohmy."

"Okay, you ready, Jake? I'm going to toss it…."

"i be ready, poppy," Jake said, eyes wide and focused on the coin and his father's hand.

"Okay, here we go…."

Jim tossed the coin high and, naturally, Jake looked up in order to follow the coin as it turned over and over and over….

Jim snatched it out of the air and closed his fingers around it. "Well, Jake, what do you think?"

Eyes big as saucers, Jake said, "show me, show me!"

"Actually, we're done," Howard said as he handed the final packet with Jake's blood sample up to Mackie.

Jim stepped back and let Jake look at his finger. Which had a small bandage wrapped around it.

"wha' happened?" Jake asked wondrously.

Blair leaned over and, grinning, whispered, "You owe poppy fifty cents, Jake."

"Okay, Jake, pick one."

Julie held out the box of suckers and Jake stood on tiptoe to peer inside. Tongue captured in the corner of his mouth, he gazed longingly at all the different colored suckers and finally took, as planned, the purple one. He looked up and said, "an' don't forget my daddy!"

Julie winked at Jake and turned so that Blair could pick one. "Detective?"

"Oh, yeah, right. Uhm, let's see… Jake, what do you recommend?"

"orangey!"

"Good choice." Blair reached in and took an orange sucker.

"but… but… what about my poppy?" Jake asked, clearly stricken by the idea that now Jim would be left out of the sucker choices.

Julie didn't even bat an eye. She simply held out the box to Jim and said, "I'd suggest the apple green sucker, Detective Ellison."

Jim chose the green sucker.

"Well, Jake, we're all finished now," Howard said as he closed the chart. "We'll mail the affidavit to your home and you and fathers can take it with you when you register, okay?"

"'kay! they won't keep me out of kindygarden, will they? did i pass?"

"You passed with flying colors, Jake. You're set."

"gooooody!"

"We'll see you in six months for your annual, okay?"

"'kay!"

Jim lifted Jake into his arms and, with Blair, walked back out into the reception area. Blair took out his checkbook and, while Julie finished the paperwork, he wrote out the co-payment. When he had the receipt, he pocketed it and, after Jake said his goodbyes, they headed for the park and their picnic.

Mackie walked out of the medical building and over to the rental. He slid into the passenger seat as Frank asked, "All done?"

"Yep. Protocol followed beautifully. There shouldn't be any problems."

Frank started the car and said, "What now?"

"Two to five days for the results, according to Doctor Weinstein," Mackie said. "So we wait here and hope for the best."

"Which is?"

Mackie put on his sunglasses and said, "That boy belongs to those two men. He's theirs."

"In that case, it's going to be a very long few days for them."

"And us."

"But thank God, not the Lloyds. I'm glad it was determined not to inform them of this development."

"So am I, Frank. So am I."

Jake was being pushed on the swings by Simon and Naomi while Jim and Blair set up the table for their picnic. Simon had shown up with a wealth of goodies that had served to endear him in Naomi's heart since he'd included some vegetarian items. Now, as Blair set out the various deli tubs, he said, "So what did you hear back at Howard's office?"

"Nothing. McNamara simply made sure that the chain of custody was followed. His partner was in their rental car out in the back parking lot."

"And?"

"And… we'll have the results in two to five."

Their summer picnic was turning out to be a total success. The weather was beautiful, clear and warm, with a cool breeze ruffling the leaves of the surrounding trees. The lake behind them was full of ducks and geese, all of which served to thrill Jake once he was finished with the swings. He never ran into the middle of a group of ducks, oh, no, not Jake. He tiptoed. Silently and with great stealth, with a handful of bread crumbs courtesy of Simon, he'd move in close and the ducks would quack and waddle slightly away to accommodate his presence until he'd start to toss out the crumbs. Giggling then, he'd watch them dive in for the treats, feathers ruffling and wings flapping.

Eventually Jim called him to the picnic bench for dinner and watched him walk on tiptoe until he was clear of the birds before breaking into a run yelling, "yay, dinner!"

"Yep," Jim said as he helped Jake get settled on the bench. "And I noticed that Naomi did, indeed, remember the Cheetos."

"yipppeee!"

Cartons were opened, salads (from Simon's deli stop) were piled on plates along with the chicken, Naomi's pasta salad, shrimp (from Simon's deli stop), Cheetos and fruit. Jake dove in with the same kind of gusto as the ducks had for his bread crumbs. A fried chicken leg in one hand and a succulent shrimp in the other, he munched away, happy as a clam. Of course, he also showed "my nomi and unca simon" his bandaged finger at least five times during dinner.

Dessert (also courtesy of Simon's deli stop) turned out to be huge walnut brownies packed into the same type of takeout cartons as the salads. When Jake saw his being pulled out, his eyes nearly popped out of their sockets.

"wow, for me?"

"Yep," Simon said as he set the chocolate goody on Jake's napkin. "All yours."

"ohmy."

"So … two to five days," Simon said while standing next to Jim and watching Jake, Blair and Naomi playing on the swings.

"Yep."

"Jim, I think you and Blair might want to consider taking the rest of the week off."

"Now, wait a minute—"

"Hold on, Jim. I'm thinking of what's best for both of you. Under the circumstances, I'd keep you both on desk duty anyway. So why not spend that time with Jake."

Jim looked at him then, a look of full of suspicion. "You think the test will prove that—"

"Jim, don't even go there. I've told you how I feel and I meant it. But damn it, I know you two and being together, being a family now is important no matter how the test comes out. Just … just take the days off, all right?"

Jim exhaled sharply and looked back at his partner and son. "I have the time, but Sandburg doesn’t," he finally said.

"He has sick days, Jim. I'll take care of it. Do it. And if anything comes up and I need the Sentinel of the city and his trusty sidekick, I'll call."

Hearing the humor in his friend's voice, Jim smiled and said, "Don't let him hear you call him a trusty sidekick."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

"Smart move."

"Jake'll be happy," Simon said.

"Delirious. I think I'll keep it as a surprise."

Simon gave a low, throaty chuckle. "I'd love to see his face tomorrow morning when you two don't go to work."

Grinning whole heartedly now, Jim said, "Oh, yeah. Priceless."

"So we have the rest of the week off?" Blair asked, voice low.

"Yep." Jim dropped his shirt into the hamper and pulled on a CPD tee shirt. He sat down on the end of the bed and pulled off his socks. Balling them up, he tossed them overhand toward the hamper. When they dropped in, he pumped his arm up and down in success.

"Here, catch." Blair tossed him a clean pair of tube socks.

"I was going to go barefoot, Chief."

"Sure you were," Blair said as he walked into the bathroom.

"Dipstick."

Blair poked his head back around. "Dipstick? So that mean I get to top tonight?"

Jim tossed the socks back at Blair, who ducked just in time. Laughing, he closed the bathroom door.

Getting to his feet, he pulled off his jeans and traded them in for a pair of soft sweat pants. Grudgingly, he bent at the waist, picked up the thrown socks and put them on.

He walked down the hall and stopped at Jake's room. He didn't have to look in, listening was enough.

"no, no. red spidey man tank shirt, my nomi."

"Ah, gotcha."

Jim could hear the drawer open and knew she was rifling through Jake's pajamas in order to find the right ones.

"Here we go," she finally said.

"that's them, my nomi."

The sound of cloth flying through the air and a smothered set of giggles told him the shirt in question had just landed on Jake's face. Smiling, Jim moved on into the living room. He picked up the remote and clicked on the set. A baseball stadium came into view and he wondered about the game they were supposed to attend with Carl on Saturday.

He actually hoped they'd be able to do just that. As a family.

The sound of his son running down the hall stopped his ruminations, and a moment later Jake burst in, Naomi not far behind.

"poppy, wanna color with me and my nomi?"

Looking at the bright face, Jim sat forward and said, "You know, that sounds perfect, Jake."

Naomi sat curled up in the chair, a book in her lap, reading glasses perched on the end of her nose. On the couch across from her sat her son and Jim. The only light was the reading lamp and the glow from the set. Jake was in bed and Blair sat close to Jim, Jim's arm dropped over his shoulders. It was a quiet time – both men watching the news, taking comfort in their closeness while Naomi sat easily, adding her own comfort to the mix.

As Jim watched their local weatherman explain about a possible summer storm on its way, he reveled in the feel of Blair's warmth tucked into his side. He also felt oddly at ease with Naomi across from them. She was too young to have been his mother, but the feeling of safety that a mother added to any scene was there – which, considering her life and how it had often left his topsy-turvy, was saying something about the woman she was now.

Suddenly, out of the clear blue, Naomi said, without taking her eyes from the book, "What are you two going to do with Jake tomorrow?"

"Got any ideas, mom?"

"He's been making zoo noises," she said, smiling and adjusting her glasses.

"The zoo?" Jim nearly squeaked.

Blair poked him in the side. "What, can't you handle a day at the zoo?"

"With… uhm… Jake? The zoo… with Jake?"

Blair and Naomi burst into laughter at the complete horror in Jim's voice. Finally Blair was able to say, "You managed to handle Disneyland and California Adventure, yet you balk at the zoo?"

"Hey, the zoo is a whole 'nother ball of wax, Chief. We're talking animals and … and … animals … and Jake running hither and yon… and—"

"Let me guess: animals?"

"Exactly."

"So we take him to the zoo?" Blair asked with a knowing smile.

Sighing deeply, Jim said, "We take him to the zoo – and then I kill Simon for coming up with this whole 'take the rest of the week off'. He is so going to pay."

Laughing lightly, Blair wiggled impossibly closer to Jim as he said, "We'd better take the digital camera. I can't wait to get photos of him with the gorillas."

Carl sat in his hotel room at the St. Regis, a drink in one hand and, in the other, a photo album purchased weeks earlier and now filled with newspaper clippings, photographs and other items pertaining to his son.

He'd spent days gathering the information contained within the covers of the album, once he'd realized who Detective Blair Sandburg was. He'd painstakingly taped and glued every news article on Detective James Ellison that held even a glimpse of Blair, into the book. With help, he'd managed to get hold of several photographs of Blair from Rainier, all of them together telling a story that bridged the gap between Blair at sixteen and Blair today. There were even photos of Blair on various expeditions. There were also copies of certificates, awards, and a copy of Blair's degree. It paid to have friends in high places.

Now, as he waited for several calls from his investigative people, as dawn crept up over the city, he went through each and every photo, article and keepsake.

"William?"

William Ellison glanced up and smiled. "Hey."

"Aren't you coming to bed?"

"Shortly, Sal, shortly."

Sally walked the rest of the way into the room and craned her neck to see what her husband was looking at – and smiled.

"You haven't opened that in ages," she said as she walked behind him at the desk in order to look over his shoulder.

"No, I haven't," he said as he smoothed down one page to get a better look at the photograph. "Do you remember this?" he asked as he tapped the picture.

"Of course. Steven and Jimmy won the … what did they call it?"

"The three-legged race."

"That's right. Three-legged race. I think… didn't Jimmy win the egg-spoon-thing race?"

"Yes. Even then, at such a young age, he was athletic."

Sally gave him a little shove. "He was a boy, William."

Chuckling, William said, "True. Steven tried so hard to be like his 'big' brother." He sighed reflectively. "I should have been a better father, Sally. I should have realized that the bond they could have had would have seen them through anything. Instead, I pitted one against the other in what I thought was the only way to make them strong. To help them succeed. God, what a fool I was."

"You raised two strong, noble, courageous men, William. Stop this pity party."

"Pity party? Sally, I had nothing to do with how they turned out. You know that better than anyone. Hell, you had more to do with them than I did. The love and gentleness you tried to impart went a lot farther in making them the men they are than anything I did."

"Come to bed, William. Enough of this maudlin mood."

William flipped to the last pages of the album and both Ellison's caught their breaths.

Jake and Christmas.

Hand flying to her mouth, Sally choked back the gasp of despair as she looked down at one very happy little boy.

"Maudlin mood, eh?" William said, his own voice catching with emotion. "What if we … what if we all lose him?"

"We can't. They can't," Sally said as she reached over and carefully closed the album. "Let's go to bed, William."

Deliberately reopening the album, William said, "I'll be up later."

Exasperated, Sally said, "Will, I could go upstairs now – alone – and let you wallow down here, but I've let you get away with too much through the years. That boy belongs to Jimmy and Blair and we're NOT going to lose him. But looking forlornly at pictures of him won't solve anything. Now close it up and come to bed."

Looking shocked, William turned to stare up at his petite wife. "Sally?"

"You heard me. Now."

Huffing angrily, William nevertheless closed the album. "I wonder," he huffed, "if it's Jimmy who bosses Blair around like this, or if it's the other way around."

Giving her husband a peck on the cheek, she took his hand and, leading him upstairs, said, "I'm pretty sure they take turns."

William rolled his eyes. "Oh, I'm damn sure of that."

"Is he asleep?"

"Damn. I wanted to hear him, you know?"

"Yeah. And I'm actually starting to understand him."

Soft laughter greeted his statement before his wife spoke again.

"I'm fine, hon. Just … fine."

"I … met the boy today. He's a real charmer. I also learned a trick for when Mark has to have a shot."

"I'll tell you when I get home."

"I'm fine, honest. I just… I don't know about this one, honey. I just… don't know. Maybe if the boy's parents were the ones who so thoughtlessly 'ordered' a child like some kind of product--"

"No, they're two good men who love that boy more than anything. And he loves them completely. Trusts completely. I've never seen such… absolute faith, Cath. And he's so … I can't explain it. There's an openness about him you just don't usually see in children his age."

"He is."

He could hear the smile in her voice and he couldn't help his own grin. "Would you?"

Five minutes later, he was listening to his son's sleepy chattering.

Frowning, Jake looked up from the drawing he was currently working on. It was still very quiet. He was used to the sound of the shower running and his fathers bantering as they got ready for work. But so far it had been very quiet. And what about his nomi?

He scrambled up, afraid that his nomi had left – and maybe – afraid that his daddy and poppy had left too. He ran out into the hall and found only darkness.

"daddy?"

Heart racing, he moved slowly down the hall toward his parents' room. The door was shut.

"poppy?" he said a bit louder, tears springing forth.

The door opened, light filled the hall, and his father, still in his shorts and tee shirt, hair a tangled mess, said, "Jake? Honey? What's up?"

He blinked up at his daddy and bit down on his lower lip. "what time izzit?" he finally asked.

"Uhm…."

"It's seven, Chief," Jim said sleepily from the bed.

"It's seven, why?"

"seven? it's seven?"

"Yep," Blair said again. Then he grinned. "Want to get into bed with poppy and me?"

"please," Jake said, not moving.

"Jake, what's wrong?" Blair said as he squatted in front of his son.

"i didn't hear… i didn't hear you. i didn't hear anyone and it's light outside, daddy."

"Huh-oh, looks like our little surprise backfired, welp."

'"saprise?"

"Yep. Poppy and I aren't going to work today. Or tomorrow … or Friday. We took an extra three days off."

Jake blinked several times and scratched his leg. "you did?"

"We did… we are. Now, how 'bout that invitation to join poppy and me in bed?"

Arms went straight up. Laughing, Blair lifted him, walked the few steps back to the bed, and said, "Yo, Jim, catch."

Jim, who'd been listening, sat up and held out his arms. Blair tossed a now giggling Jake the two feet that separated him from his poppy's arms. Jim caught him easily.

"Okay, let's get you snuggled in… that's it," Jim said as he piled several pillows on top of the wiggling and giggling boy.

"pop-peeeee!"

"What, not comfortable, Jake, my man?"

Jake crawled out from under the pillows and lifted one up. Face scrunched up menacingly – or at least as menacingly as a four year old can look – he started to heave it back – but Blair plucked it out of his hands.

"Now, now, if we're going to have three more vacation days, I want to sleep in. Besides, we'll all need our energy for the… zoo."

Jake froze in the act of picking up another pillow. "zoo?"

"Yep, zoo."

The pillow dropped from his hand and he crawled over to his father. Getting up on his knees, with hands on his hips, he said, "zoo? an' you didn't tell me?"

Blair bent at the waist until he was nose to nose with Jake. "If we'd told you… it wouldn't have been a surprise, now would it?"

Jake wiggled his nose against his father's. "nope," he giggled. "an' i like surprises, daddy!"

"Good, then back into bed and let's get some more shut-eye."

"okey, dokey." He scrambled back over to Jim, climbed in under the covers, pulled them up to his neck and said cheekily, "sleep time!"

Rolling his eyes, Blair got in next to his son. Jim rolled over onto his left side and winked at his partner.

Blair hoped for another two hours of sleep, but he had his doubts.

"Mom, are you sure you don't want to come?" Blair asked over a cup of steaming coffee and the morning paper.

"I'm sure. I have some … calls … to make."

Blair glanced up. "Calls? That sounds mysterious."

"It's not, you goose."

"Now there's a term you haven't used in years."

Naomi smiled and fingered Carl's business card, which was resting in the pocket of her robe.

"Hey, what's for breakfast?" Jim asked as he walked in with a now-dressed Jake in tow.

"Oatmeal," Blair said and pointed to the stove. "All ready and the banana slices are on the other counter."

Jim dropped Jake off at the table while he picked up two bowls. He ladled the still-very warm oatmeal into them, added some cinnamon, and finally topped them with the banana slices. He noticed that the pitcher of milk was already on the table, so he walked over and set one bowl in front of Jake, who "mmmm'ed" happily, and the other in front of his seat. Then he got a glass of orange juice for Jake and a cup of coffee for himself.

Sliding in next to Blair, he said, "You two already eat?"

"Mom did, I'm not hungry," Blair said as he continued to peruse the morning paper.

Jim looked skeptical as he poured milk over his and Jake's cereal. "Not hungry," he mused out loud. "Doesn't sound like you, Chief."

Smiling, Blair said, "I'm saving up for lunch at the zoo."

"Ah," Jim said. "Of course. Their gourmet fare."

"Yep."

"i'm gonna feed every animule i'm allowed to feed," Jake said for no particular reason.

"So am I," Blair agreed.

Jake slurped his cereal and then asked, "how many animules am i allowed to feed?"

"Well, the deer and the antelope," Blair held up a finger, "and don't you dare say 'play', Jim. And the seals, of course. And maybe the otters."

"And… maybe," Naomi added, "some babies."

Jake looked up from his oatmeal. "babies?"

"Babies. I have a friend at the zoo and—"

"Of course you do," Jim said with an amazed shake of his head.

"… she'll meet you guys at the nursery at two. Okay?"

Jake looked at each of his fathers in turn and then back to Naomi. "i say very okay!"

"Mom, you never cease to amaze me."

She shrugged charmingly and took a sip of her tea.

"my nomi? aren't you coming with us?"

"No, honey, I have some—"

"nononono, my nomi – you have to come. no dizzyland, so you must come to the zoo."

"My thoughts exactly," Blair concurred. "Look, I still have to get dressed and Jake has to feed the koi, so you could make your calls now, right?"

"Well—"

"all settled," Jake said brightly. "my nomi is going with us to the zoo!"

"The king has spoken," Jim said.

Naomi glanced out the window to reassure herself that Jake and Jim were occupied with the koi. Satisfied at what she could see, and knowing that Blair was in the shower, she picked up the phone and dialed Carl's number at his office.

"Carl Sabotini, please. Tell him it's Naomi Sandburg."

"Oh. I see. Thank you."

"No, no. I'll call later in the week. Thank you."

"You too." She hung up and sat down at the kitchen table. Washington DC? Wasn't that where the… could Carl… was it possible?

"What are you thinking, Naomi?"

She looked up to see Jim in the doorway. "I… I was just… you heard?"

He nodded. "Washington, eh?"

"Apparently. Isn't that—"

"It is. I… asked him to help."

"Where's—"

"Jake's in the bedroom with Blair and being very helpful in getting your son dressed. He just chose," Jim cocked his head, "a purple shirt and," he suddenly laughed, "Blair's lime green gardening shorts."

"Oh, God. I'd love to hear Blair get out of that one." Then she went serious again and asked, "How could Carl help?"

"He knows people, has contacts and private investigators. I'd planned on… I was going to do this myself after he got the information, but he convinced me that my place was here."

"Damn right," she said. "And don't look at me like that. You've heard me cuss before."

"They're coming," Jim suddenly said. "You ready?"

She nodded and got quickly to her feet. "Let's go."

They walked out and into the living room where Blair was indeed wearing the purple polo shirt – but instead of the green shorts – he had on a pair of jeans. Tight jeans.

Coughing a bit, Jim said, "Funny, I just kind of thought your green shorts would have been good for the zoo."

Eyes narrowed, Blair was about to offer up a scathing retort – or at least Jim assumed it would have been – but Jake interrupted him.

"i tried to get daddy to wear them, poppy, but he said they had a hole in them."

"Oh, really? Gee, I wonder how that happened?" he mused, knowing full well.

"Gosh, Jim, I don't know. Probably an over-eager… gopher, maybe."

"That must have been it. So, you two ready to go?"

"i be ready, poppy. i even have my sunglasses, see?" He held up the yellow pair of sunglasses purchased in California. "i be very ready now."

"Well, then, I suggest we get on the road if we want to be the first ones in when the gate opens."

"yipppeee!"

"What do you have for me, Mike?"

"And how is it that this information didn't come up during the police interviews?"

"What's next?"

Carl sat up, the back of his neck tingling. "What?"

"Follow this up all the way, Mike. I think you're onto something."

"Good, good. I'll wait for your next report."

Carl hung up and sat back. He rubbed his neck as he thought about a wife who kept leaving her baby – and a baby sitter who'd disappeared.

"Is there an animal he hasn't named?" Naomi asked from where she was sitting on a bench – in the shade.

Chuckling, Blair shook his head. "Nope."

The "he" in question was currently trying his best to get over the railing that separated him from the otters. Jim was shaking his head and both Blair and Naomi didn't need heightened senses to know what Jim was saying.

"No, Jake. No. You're not allowed over the railing and you know it."

"but, but, but… i could swum with them, poppy! an' look, they want me to join them, they do!"

"Jake, I said no. And you know quite well that you can't swim with them. Now, are we going to go through this with every exhibit, young man? Because if we are, we can leave."

Jake leaned back, his pout in full view. "no, no, not leave. but i'd have fun with them, poppy, i would."

"I know, son. I know. And someday, when you're older, maybe you'll study animals and you'll get a chance to work with them and yes, even … 'swum' … with them."

Jake jumped down and gave a firm nod of his head. "that's 'sxactly what i'll do, poppy!"

"There you go. Okay, let's catch up with daddy and Naomi, all right?"

He looked forlornly back at his otters and gave them a little wave. "bye, raggles, bye, ruggles, i'll see you later."

Jim guided him over to the seal pool where Blair and Naomi now waited. Before he let him run towards them, he put his hand on the top of Jake's curly head and said, "And you can't swim with the seals any more than you can with the otters, so didn't even try. Understood?"

"poppy, you're no fun anymore," he said sadly as he walked sedately over to the railing.

Holding back his laughter, Jim followed.

Jake's sedated mood lasted exactly one minute. As long as it took him to climb up on the foot rail and peek over in order to see the frolicking seals. A minute after that, he was barking up a storm and the seals were answering. Jim was pretty damn sure that every time one of those seals barked back and waved one flipper at Jake – they were inviting him to join them.

This was going to be one heck of a day.

Naomi put her feet up on the chair next to her and sighed happily. "I think my favorite part of the zoo … is lunch."

"I'm down with that, Mom," Blair said as he did the same thing with his feet. The Pavilion was nearly empty with most folks having already eaten. They'd decided to eat closer to their two o'clock appointment at the nursery and thus miss most of the lunch crowd. Jim and Jake were getting the food, the Pavilion serving cafeteria style, while Blair had already ordered and picked up their drinks. Now he and Naomi were enjoying a few quiet moments while sipping iced tea.

"I'm very glad he talked me into this," Naomi said. "Watching him here is simply something I would never want to miss."

"I'll drink to that," Blair said as he lifted his plastic zoo cup to touch to Naomi's.

"Let me see the pictures again, will you, honey?"

Blair took the digital camera out of the bag, opened the screen, turned it on, and set it for showing the most recent photos. He handed it over to eager hands and sat back to watch his mother's enjoyment.

It was hard for him to balance the woman before him now with the Naomi of even two years ago. He actually wondered if this … this … settling down mood … would last. Surely she missed--

"Oh, sweetie, look at this one. Jim took it of you and Jake."

She handed it back to him and his face split into a huge grin. "This one we need to blow up – sans me. His expression while trying to wiggle his ears like the hippos is priceless. He didn't even try that on the Jungle Cruise ride, mom."

"I like the whole puckered lips thing and the scrunched eyes," Naomi said with a chortle.

Blair smiled dreamily as he ran a finger over Jake's likeness.

"Okay, guys, here we go. One zoo lunch per person. Naomi, you had the African Sprout Belt sandwich, and Blair you had the Virunga Egg salad sandwich." Jim put a box in front of each of them before sitting down with Jake, who held his own precious boxed lunch.

"Jake, my man, what did you choose?"

"i got the hippoham and cheese with looooots of mustard and they even put cheddy on it instead of swiss." He scrunched up his face at the thought of swiss cheese. "an' i got bar-beeee-cued potaty chips and choco milk."

Blair glanced over at Jim and cocked his head. Jim reached into Jake's box and pulled out the applesauce, showed his partner, and put it back.

"All natural, Chief."

"an' if i eat every bite, i get to have some popcorn later too!"

"Hey," Jim said with his most charming smile in place, "you can't come to the zoo and not have popcorn, you know?"

Blair just rolled his eyes… and said, "I want the Kettle Corn then."

They made it to the nursery right on time in spite of having to constantly remind Jake that they had an appointment. He wanted to take every path they connected with, naturally. But finally they were there, and a young woman was just stepping out the door to greet them.

"Naomi, you made it too," she exclaimed, arms held out in front of her.

Naomi embraced her and said, "Yep. My grandson wouldn't have it otherwise." They parted and Naomi said, "Holly, this is Jim Ellison and my grandson, Jake. And of course, you remember Blair." She turned to Blair and said, "Remember Marilyn, Blair? Well, this is her daughter."

"Of course, I stayed with her… wait… Holly?"

The young woman, maybe two years younger than Blair, said, "You remember?"

"Good God. We spent an entire summer at the lake, in the nude," he turned to Jim, "we were five and seven respectively," then back to Holly, "and playing jokes on old Mr. Thomason."

Holly laughed brightly. "Yep, that was one fun summer."

"God, Holly, I had no idea you were here in Cascade. If I had," he shot a withering look at his mother, "I'd have looked you up before now."

"No, no, I only moved here last month. I came from the San Diego Zoo in California. I think mom only told Naomi … when?"

"Sunday, actually," Naomi said softly.

"Ah," Blair said before mouthing an apology to his mother. "Well, at least I know now, so we can't be strangers."

"Absolutely not." She glanced down at Jake and said, "Okay, how do you feel about feeding a baby… gorilla?"

Jake, who'd been happily following the conversation, now did a double-take. "a… a… a baby… gorilla?"

"Yep. His name is Weewah and he loves being held and cuddled. And sometimes, he'll play with his bottle, but only with a few special people. What do you think, Jake?"

He looked up at his fathers, eyes blinking rapidly. "daddy? poppy?" he said almost in prayer.

"Sounds good to me, Hoss," Jim said.

"Yep. Holly, show us the way."

Laughing, she motioned them inside. "Okay, first off, a little tour, okay, Jake?"

He raised his arms and, with a knowing grin aimed at Blair, Jim lifted him and settled him on his hip. Jake then said, "i be ready."

The next thirty minutes were spent touring the nursery. Jake saw a baby lemur, two baby seals (he got to toss them a ball and giggled happily when they tossed it back) and from behind a glass partition, two lion cubs. He was totally enthralled with them and only the promise of feeding Weewah could peel him away from the cavorting cubs.

Finally they were standing in front of a lab door. Holly lowered her voice and said, "I'm afraid only one of you can accompany Jake and you'll both have to wear a lab coat and a mask."

Jim and Blair looked at each other – and then at Naomi.

"Mom? You want to take him?"

Jake answered for her by simply holding out his arms. Slowly, and with a huge smile, Naomi lifted him.

"Okay, I'm going to get them both set up inside and then I'll come back out and take you two to a nice spot where you can watch, all right?"

Blair lifted the camera and canted his head at Holly. She grinned. "No problem, but no flash. You won't need it, though."

She opened the door and took Jake and Naomi inside. Five minutes later, she walked back out and indicated that Jim and Blair should follow her. They walked around the corridor to another room. She unlocked the door and they followed her inside.

"Wow, this is great," Blair said as he realized they were in the lab on the other side of the feeding and play room. A huge glass partition was all that separated them from Jake and Naomi, who were both gowned and seated on the other side. There were a couple of chairs on their side, so Jim and Blair sat down. Blair reached forward and tapped on the glass, which successfully got his son's attention. Jake's head shot up and even with the mask hiding half his face, they could tell he was grinning from ear to ear. He waved madly from his perch on Naomi's lap.

"Can he hear us?" Blair asked of Holly.

"He can …now," she said as she flipped on the speaker. "I'm going back in with the gorilla, so get your camera ready."

Jim turned and said, "Holly, is this really a good thing for the animal?"

Smiling, she said, "It is. Weewah has no brothers or sisters, and right now, he's the youngest baby we have. We can't put him out with the others yet, so this is a chance for him to bond with another youngster. My boss brings her son in at least once a week and he's only a year older than Jake there. Weewah is used to this type of interaction and health-wise, it's very desirable. Does that help?"

"Yeah," Jim chuckled, "it does."

"Okay, enjoy the show."

She left then and they both waited anxiously to see what would happen. A few minutes later, Holly entered the room with Jake and Naomi. In her arms sat a small gorilla. He was wrapped in a blanket but that didn't stop his dark-eyed gaze from searching the room.

Holly sat down on the stool next to the rocking chair that held Naomi and Jake. "Okay, you two ready for this?"

Jake nodded so hard, his mask slipped up and then down. He readjusted it and giggled, which brought Weewah's head up.

"Oh, he liked the sound of that, Jake. See?"

"he liked my giggles?"

"He sure did." She held Weewah up a bit, and said, "Weewah, this is Jake. Jake, this is Weewah. And yes, you can take his hand if he puts it out toward you."

They all held their breath as Jake said, "weewah, i'm jake. hi." He giggled again and sure enough, a dark, furry arm reached out toward him. Jake put his own out and, a moment later, dark fingers were entwined with light.

"ohmy," Jake said breathlessly. "ohmy, ohmy, ohmy."

She gave them a few moments to get used to each other, watching while Jake chatted easily with Weewah, who, in turn, watched him happily. Finally, Holly reached behind her and took a baby bottle out of the fridge.

"All right, Jake, it's time for Weewah to eat. Now this is how we're going to do it. I want you to rest in the crook of your grandmother's left arm…yes, just like that. That will give you the support you'll need to hold Weewah. He's pretty heavy, you see. Okay, I'm going to place him in your arms – if you're sure…."

"i be sure – me an' weewah are ready!"

"Good," she said, grinning. "All right, here we go. I'll position you… yes, your right arm just here… that's good, and use the soft spot between your arm and chest for Weewah's head… perfect, Jake, just perfect. Naomi, are you comfortable?"

"Yes. I've got him."

"Good. All right, now you're going to feed him with your right hand, Jake, but you need to keep the bottle pointing upwards, toward your face at all times, okay?"

"'kay!"

Holly made sure everything was perfect and then handed the bottle to Jake. "He loves it when you talk to him while you feed him. Eventually, when he's satisfied his initial and immediate hunger, if you're very lucky, he'll want to play. But don't be disappointed if he doesn't. He only plays with a couple of people, Jake."

"okay."

Jake, forehead creased in concentration, began to feed Weewah. He was very careful to keep the bottle in the right position, and thrilled beyond all measure when Weewah wrapped his own fingers around his. He kept up a mostly nonsensical bit of chatter, sounding very much like a father with their newborn. He praised Weewah, told him over and over how handsome he was and what a good baby he was and how he'd love to show him his koi and his jakey and his daddy and poppy. He cooed and gurgled and watched as Weewah responded to every sound. After a few minutes, the gorilla pushed the bottle out of his mouth and reached up toward Jake's hair, one finger curling a strand around it … and then he tugged.

Hard.

"whoa!"

"I think he wants to play, Jake," Holly said with a grin. "You okay?"

"i be fine," he said as he shook his curls in Weewah's face.

A chittering sound greeted the action and the next few moments of Jake and Weewah play would forever be stamped in the memories of Jim, Blair and Naomi.

Eventually, Weewah wanted the rest of his bottle and Jake happily complied. When the bottle was empty, Holly took it and said, "Okay, I'm afraid I have to take him now, Jake. It's time for his nap. But you did an excellent job and I think you have a new friend."

Sad that it was over, but thrilled that it had happened at all, Jake nodded and carefully shifted Weewah up so that Holly could take him. Eyes wide and sad at the loss, Jake watched as Holly, Weewah in arms, walked out.

Naomi pulled her mask down and then Jake's and, leaning sideways so that she could see his face, said, "You did a wonderful job, Jake. Weewah loved you."

"i loved him too, my nomi." He looked at the partition, his eyes telegraphing his need for his fathers.

"Jake, I hope you'll be a regular. Weewah ate quickly and took his whole bottle and that's a very good thing."

"i will. i just wish i could have kissed him."

"When he's older, who knows. I hope the rest of your day at the zoo is fun, honey."

"thank you."

Jake was in Jim's arms and, while he was attentive, his mind was clearly on Weewah. Holly rested her hand on his leg and said, "The gift shop has a stuffed baby gorilla," she pulled something out of her pocket, "so just hand this over at the counter and it will be free. Just something to love in Weewah's name."

Jake took the paper and grinned. "i could do that – love a stuffted baby gorilla."

"I thought so," she said knowingly. "Weewah has one and sleeps with it."

"he does?"

"Yep. Thanks again, Jake. You were a wonderful 'parent' today."

Jake blushed and Blair said, "Thanks, Holly, for everything. I'll give you a call and we'll get together."

"You'd better, Blair."

Laughing, they took their leave and headed back out and into the main part of the zoo.

"That works. Pedro's is only a few minutes from the pool, Chief. What does everyone think?"

Jake, the stuffed version of Weewah in his arms, said, "tacos! yippppeee!"

"I could handle Pedro's," Naomi agreed.

"Sounds like a done deal, Jim," Blair noted.

Jake and Jim both sat back with satisfied sighs and patted their stomachs even as Jake said, "i'm as stuffted as my weewah."

"I hope not," Blair said, a fond expression on his face. "I don't want a stuffed son, I want a real one."

"i be real, daddy, just … stuffted real."

"Ah, okay then." He reached out and ran the back of his hand down Jake's cheek. "You were awesome today, Hoss. Both with Weewah and at workout. You listened to Holly and did exactly as she instructed and you listened to your coach, and did everything she told you to do. And you were a perfect father to Weewah."

"i was weewah's daddy and poppy, daddy?"

"You sure were."

Jake glanced down at the space between them – which held his stuffed version of Weewah – and patted him on the head. "i will always be a good daddy and poppy to you an' to jakey an' to pengy an' to zero an' to my ghosty!"

Blair found his gaze drifting toward Jim and immediately wished he hadn't. The look of bittersweet love on his face clutched at Blair's heart and squeezed so unbearably hard that he had to look away.

"Well, I'm thinking I'll pass on the flan tonight," Naomi said. "I need to be able to get up from the table in order to get home."

Jim looked down at his very flat stomach and said, "I think… I could squeeze a fried ice cream in here. Just. Jake, what about you?"

Jake held up his shirt so everyone could see his tummy and said, "i don't know, poppy, what do you think?"

The invitation to tickle too great to ignore, Jim dove in, saying, "Oh, yeah, there's room, especially if we split one."

He began to tickle lightly, causing Jake to fall, giggling, into his other father, who captured him and started to rain a few choice raspberries on his neck.

Jake tried to protect himself – but his heart wasn't in it. Eventually, in order to maintain some sense of dignity, Naomi said, "Oh, children?"

"Ooops," Jim said as he pulled Jake onto his lap. "We've been bad."

"you be bad, i be good!"

"He's got you there," Naomi said, grinning.

Before anyone could say anything else, their waitress arrived and, while clearing the table, asked if they wanted dessert. It was unanimous that Jim, Blair and Jake would split one fried ice cream.

Blair looked over his shoulder and grinned. Their son was out like a light. Getting him into the house and to bed would be no problem tonight thanks to a pretty full day.

"I'm thinking no bath for the Jakemeister tonight," Jim said.

"Nope, but then he showered at the pool, so he's clean."

"True." Jim risked a quick glance at his partner and said, "It was a good day, wasn't it?"

"Very," Blair said. "Mom, how you feeling back there?"

"Fine, honey."

Blair twisted in his seat so that he could talk to her and asked, "What was it like, with both Jake and the baby gorilla in your arms?"

"Unbelievable, sweetie. Just unbelievable. I swear, the intelligence and joy in Weewah's eyes was astonishing. But you know what I can't believe? I had a gorilla in my arms and never touched him."

Blair chuckled and said, "Why do I think you'll have plenty of chances to touch in the future?"

"As will you and Jim," Naomi added as she smoothed her hand through Jake's curls.

"Very true. And we will take him back."

Jim glanced in the rear-view mirror and caught the look in Naomi's eyes at her son's comment. They both knew exactly what Blair meant.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Jim asked as he came up behind his partner the next afternoon.

Blair glanced away from the window to look at Jim. "No thoughts," he said.

"Liar. Come on, out with it. It's just you and me, Chief. Jake is over at Corky's and Naomi is running a few errands, so give."

Blair turned a tortured gaze to Jim and said, "If I'm right about Jake and what he might be – and if the DNA testing takes him away—"

"Stop right there, Blair. That isn't going to happen. It isn't."

"Damn it, Chief."

"What?"

"You're giving in because you think I'm in denial, aren't you?" Jim asked, his voice hard.

"Aren't you?"

"No. No, I'm not." He ran his hand through his short hair and said, voice only slightly less hard, "Call it another sentinel sense – or just call it faith. We're not going to lose him."

"We keep saying that, but we need to discuss the worse case scenario, Jim. As much as we both want to believe it won't happen – we need to—"

"No!" With that, Jim walked over to the front door, shoved at the screen and stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

Blair winced and wondered why the sentinel in the house was allowed to slam doors when the partner wasn't?

Damn, he should probably go after Jim, but he didn't have the energy. He glanced over at the fireplace, at the stack of games that sat in the corner. He got to his feet, walked over, knelt down and absently started to straighten them. Candy Cane Lane, Shoots and Ladders, Checkers, Monopoly….

Hands shaking, he opened the box to look at the tokens. He remembered so clearly the many times – before Jake had become his and Jim's – that they'd played the game. He could hear Jake telling him that he was his best friend….

And he could hear his response – and Jake's in kind….

And of course, Jake always won at Monopoly. Always. And it wasn't because Blair let him, either.

Blair grinned as he put the lid back on the game and ran his hand over the top.

He and Jim had a son. A son they could so easily lose.

"But he'll be with his real parents, parents who loved him and miss him and need him," his mind said.

If.

IF.

If the DNA test….

But Jake was their son. And Jake had known it the night 852 had been blown up.

He remembered when the ball had dropped for Jake….

And then Jake had finally given Blair everything….

Daddy.

And Poppy.

Blair sat back on his heels and remembered Jim's expression the first time Jake had used the term….

Blair didn't think he'd ever seen a more beautiful sight than Jim's face on that Valentine's night when Jake had claimed him as his father as well. But damn, he would have loved to have seen Jim's expression when Jake had called him "mommy".

The front door opened and Jim poked his head inside. "I'm going for a drive, Sandburg. I'll… I just… I'll be back. I'll bring dinner, all right? Jake is due any minute."

Blair turned around and nodded. "All right, Jim. Make it easy and just pick up some hot dogs from Bo's, all right?"

"Sounds good. I… I'm not running, Chief. I just need—"

"I know, Jim. I know. See you shortly."

Jim looked at him for several moments, and Blair knew that he was being "searched" by a sentinel for any sign that he didn't understand. He sat there and smiled until Jim, satisfied, nodded and closed the screen door.

Blair got up and walked back to the couch and sat down.

He didn’t know how long he sat there before he heard his son's voice, which was enough to get him up. He could hear Bobby, Corky's older brother, as he scolded Corky for trying to go across the street before Bobby could okay it. Grinning, Blair walked to the screen door.

Jake, Corky and Bobby were just crossing the courtyard as Jake looked up and spotted him. Waving at him, he quickly ran over.

"daddy, we played 'go fish'! can we play later? do you know how to play 'go fish'?"

"As a matter of fact, I do. All four of us will play after dinner. Sound good?"

"yipppeeee!"

He turned then and almost bounded into Corky's arms as they kind of danced around each other to say their good-byes. Finally Bobby retrieved his brother and, with a wave, they headed home.

Blair opened the screen door and Jake bounced in, full of energy. Blair figured he'd better corral it quick.

"Hey, Hoss, I'm thinking… finger painting time. What say you?"

"yippppeeee!"

What a surprise.

Jim drove aimlessly, his mind in turmoil. He'd been given so much in the last year – so much more than he'd thought he'd ever have – that now he found himself experiencing a totally selfish attitude.

He was unwilling to let Jake go. Hell, he'd be just as unwilling to let Blair go.

Damn, he was possessive. Who knew?

For a moment, he thought of all Blair had said over the years about ancient sentinels … and he could understand why they'd kept themselves separate from the tribe. It hurt too fucking much.

The vinyl tablecloth was in place and Jake was wearing his finger painting smock. Small jars of paint were on the table along with lots of heavy-duty paper, brushes (just in case Jake got tired of using his fingers) and two bowls of water. Newspapers were on the floor under the table and Blair figured he'd done all that he could to protect the kitchen from one finger-painting four year old.

Seeing that he was, in a way, trapped, Jake asked imploringly, "daddy, would you get me jakey? he wants to watch."

"You got it, Jake. I'll be right back and don't you dare start without me, okay?"

Eyes sparkling, Jake giggled and said, "'kay!"

Blair walked through the dining room and was just entering the living room when the phone rang, causing him to change direction in order to answer.

"Hello?"

Blair closed his eyes as his heart climbed into his throat.

"Ninety," he whispered.

"What do you mean… act?" he asked, the pounding in his chest making it difficult to hear.

Slowly, Blair put down the phone.

He walked down the hall and into Jake's room, looking for Jakey. When he found him, on Jake's robe, he picked him up. His fingers squeezed the furry animal as his vision blurred.

Jim put the bags of food on the front seat and started up the truck. Time to go home. He hadn't accomplished anything during his drive, other than to decide to put all his faith and love into Blair.

That was probably a lot.

Blair found himself standing over Jake's bed staring down at the collection of stuffed animals and toys. Ghosty held a position of honor with Zero and Pengy – meaning actually allowed on the pillows, while all others were set up in various strategic spots on the bed. He wondered if, each morning, Jake did this deliberately before coming out for breakfast or if it was a kind of haphazard thing. He'd bet it was deliberate.

Blair backed up until he hit the wall and slowly sank down until he was sitting on the floor, knees drawn to his chest, Jakey in his hands.

They were going to lose him.

Jake wondered what was keeping his daddy. Deciding that maybe he needed help finding jakey – who could be pretty darn sneaky. He looked around and tried to figure out how best to get down without making a mess and finally decided caution was his best weapon.

Being very careful, he slid off his phone book and scooted to the edge of the bench and then stood up. He looked at the table. Good, he hadn't spilled anything or disturbed the materials. He walked out and headed for his bedroom.

When he arrived at his door, he thought it was awfully quiet, so he peeked in first and saw just the top of his daddy's head on the other side of his bed. Worried, he tiptoed inside and around his racecar bed.

His daddy was holding jakey and he was… he seemed to be ….

"daddy?" he asked, suddenly frightened.

His father looked up, blinked, and then smiled. "Hey, Jake."

"daddy… are you … sad?"

"Sad? No, not really… just… no, not sad."

Deciding that his daddy was sad, he tried to think of the bestest way ever to cheer him up… and immediately thought of his special box. With great purpose, he walked over to his toy box, pushed open the lid with both hands, and started digging. He knew it was way in the bottom because it was very special. Very, very special. It held all of his wealth and memories and secrets.

He grappled with toys and cars, and trucks and games and books before his fingers closed around the precious item. He hauled it out and walked carefully over to his daddy. Jake lifted his daddy's arms and crawled under them to settle on his lap. He set his box on his legs and said, "this is my very speshul memory box, daddy, see?"

Blair blinked back the moisture in his eyes and tried to regain his composure for Jake. He looked muzzily at the box – a Christmas-themed tin – and watched as Jake popped it open.

"see daddy? my … treshures," he said, his voice full of awe and worship. "this is a coin from candyda, and this is a whooooole dollar but from… mecka…mecki—"

"Mexico," Blair offered softly.

"yup, that's it! and see, this is a pair of my baby socks and my gammy said i was bery tiny but that all babies are, see?" He tilted his head up to look at his father. "do you think i were ever as big as weewah when i were a baby, daddy?"

Stunned, Blair stared at the small white socks before ever so slowly taking them from Jake's hand.

Baby socks.

He peered closely at them… and noticed two initials that had been carefully – and lovingly -- sewn into the top of them: JP

JP.

Jake… Porter.

Baby socks. Tiny baby socks.

Hope blossoming, Blair asked carefully, "Jake, honey, do you have anything else in there from when you were a baby?"

Small fingers rummaged around the trinkets and held up a pacifier.

"my gammy … my gammy tol' me this was mine."

Blair grinned and took the item, rubbing it gently. He glanced back down and into the box and noticed… a folded white envelope. "Jake, what's in there?"

"me," Jake said proudly.

"You?"

Jake nodded enthusiastically. "yup! me. wanna see?"

Holding his breath, Blair nodded and whispered, "Please."

Jake picked up the envelope and very carefully straightened it out. He opened the flap, slid out a piece of paper and unfolded it. "see, daddy? me."

He held it up and Blair had to blink in order to see it clearly – and when he did – he gasped.

Bold, fancy script declared that the paper had been issued by Berkshire County.

With a shaking hand, Blair took it from Jake.

"Oh, dear God," he finally said. "Dear God."

The document fell from his fingers as he turned Jake around and pulled him up and into a hug. The tears spilled over now, freely and with abandon as he held his son, rocked him, kissed him … and openly cried.

Jim opened the door and started to call out … but the scent of salty tears hung heavy in the air – at least for a sentinel. He cocked his head….

Setting the bags of food down, Jim rushed through the living room, down the hall, and into Jake's bedroom. The sight that greeted him nearly broke his heart.

art by Lorraine

Blair was on the floor, Jake in his arms, face buried in Jake's hair. He was rocking and sobbing and Jim felt his own tears threaten at the knowledge that Blair must have received … news from McNamara. Bad news.

"Chief? Blair?"

Slowly Blair lifted his head and favored Jim with the most beautiful smile the older man had ever seen on anyone.

"Blair, what…." He took a couple of steps into the room as Blair picked something up from the floor and silently held it out to him. Puzzled, he went the rest of the way, took the paper from Blair's hand and read it.

"Dear God," he whispered.

Jim, Blair and Jake sat on the floor of the bedroom, Blair between Jim's legs, Jake on Blair's lap.

"I certainly see why this is you, Hoss," Blair said happily.

Jake fingered the birth certificate and giggled. "me."

"Yep," Blair said after kissing the top of Jacob Michael Porter's head. "You."

"Sounds like Naomi's back," Jim said unnecessarily, his voice still choked up. "I think we should get up and greet her. Besides, I have hot dogs in the living room."

"hot doggys? you brought home hot doggys, poppy?"

"I sure did. Let's go, guys."

They got up and, with the birth certificate in hand, walked out to join Naomi.

They ate in the dining room because it had been decided that after devouring the hot dogs, everyone would engage in the fine art of finger painting with Jake. Now the hot dogs were piled on a platter along with the cheesy fries Jim had added to his order. It had turned out to be a one hundred percent junk food night and Blair found that he couldn't have cared less. They were celebrating, damn it.

He and Jim both knew that when the meal was over – they'd have some very special calls to make, and maybe it was selfish to wait – but they'd both wanted this time – just the three of them – to revel in the secure knowledge that Jake was Jake and he was theirs. When they were finished cleaning up after dinner, and Naomi was getting Jake started on the finger art – then they'd start the calls and bring the rest of their friends and family in on the miracle.

At the moment, Jake was munching happily on his corn dog while simultaneously pulling a fry drenched in a gooey, melted cheddar cheese from his plate in preparation for plopping into his mouth. Naomi was enjoying a couple of veggie dogs while looking back and forth between her son and grandson. When they'd shown her the birth certificate, she'd been forced to go outside and cry in order to hide the release of fear and worry.

For Blair's part, he found that he wasn't all that hungry, which was just as well since Jim was more than making up for it. The chili-cheese dogs and kraut dogs were disappearing as fast as Jim could scarf them down. With a glance at his son, Blair asked, "Jim, when we're done, who calls whom?"

"Well, obviously I'll take my dad and he can call Steven and you take Simon—"

"I'll call Simon," Naomi interjected.

Blair smiled at her and said, "Then I guess I'll call… McNamara."

Jake frowned and said, "why do you need to call gampa and unca simon?"

Realizing that even with a remark as innocuous as one about phone calls, Jake would tumble to something being up, Blair, thinking fast, said, "To invite them over tomorrow, Jake, that's why. We're going to celebrate."

"celeybrate? why, daddy?"

"Uhm… we're celebrating… TGIF," he finally said, proud of having coming up with something in spite of Jim's doubting Thomas looks.

His frown deepening, Jake said, "tgif?"

Grinning from ear-to-ear, Blair said, "Thank God it's Friday. TGIF. 'T' for Thank, 'G' for God, 'I' for It's and 'F' for—"

"friday!"

"You got it, welp."

Devilish gleam in his eye, Jake said, "could we have … choco-latty cake?"

All three adults said simultaneously, "Oh, yeah."

Paul McNamara put down the phone and felt his knees give way. He was very glad for the desk chair.

"Mackie?"

"They found … it seems that Jake… they have… my God, he had his birth certificate all the time," he finished breathlessly.

Frank got up from the small couch and walked the few steps to the desk. "Excuse me?"

"He had one of those tin boxes you get Christmas cookies in and it was full of what he called his treasures and memories. There were a pair of baby socks, for example, and some foreign coins and… an envelope that held… him."

Frank's left eyebrow rose dramatically. "Him?"

Chuckling, Mackie said, "It's what he said. Something about the envelope having him inside. So of course, Blair … Detective Sandburg … opened it and found the birth certificate from Berkshire County. All above board. Of course he knows we'll have to authenticate it as best as possible, but we have names, dates, and that's a hell of a lot more than we had before."

"We also have a DNA test that was ninety percent positive."

"And I'm going to call the lab and have the protocol re-checked from the point the specimen arrived at the lab, " Mackie said. "In the face of this birth certificate, we can assume a mistake was made," he added reasonably.

"So our job here is done, then?"

"Yeah. I'll call the boss, give him the update."

Frank grinned. "And then you'll call Catherine."

"And talk to Mark," Mackie affirmed with his own grin.

"Man, I have got to get me a wife."

"And a kid, Frank. Don't forget the kid."

"… of course we'll be there. And don't worry about Steven – his flight arrives at seven tonight… yes, you heard me. Did you really think he wouldn't be here for you, Jimmy? Give Jake a big hug for me and Sally, all right? Love you too, son."

William smiled as he hung up the phone. He took a swipe at his face and wiped the tears away.

It was over. And Jake was theirs.

"Sally? Get in here, honey. I have some incredible news!" he couldn't help but yell happily.

Simon walked out into his back yard and stood on the small deck as he looked out onto his yard. The grin on his face was huge.

Jake had a birth certificate. Damn, and he'd had it all the time.

Suddenly Simon started laughing. A booming, all out, from the gut, laugh.

Jim stood at the screen door and watched his partner.

Blair was standing by the koi pond, his body unnaturally still. Jake was in bed and Naomi had gone home, even though they'd tried to talk her into staying one more night. She'd wisely said no, deciding that he and Blair needed privacy now.

Well, Blair certainly had his. Jim just couldn't decide whether to invade it or not. Hand on the screen, he waffled. Yes. No.

Blair lifted his head and looked toward the apartment that had been Karen's and now belonged to John Holden, the building's manager. The body language made Jim's decision for him. He pushed the screen open and walked out.

"Chief?" he said quietly as he came up behind his partner.

"Hey."

"I blew it today, didn't I?"

Blair turned around to face him. "What do you mean?"

"Leaving. Blowing up and leaving."

"You're allowed to be afraid, Jim. So was I. It's okay."

Jim reached out and ran a finger along Blair's lower lip. "Say it, Blair. What you're thinking, say it."

Blair looked away … and then back again. "Would we… would we have survived if we'd lost him? Would I have lost you too? Would we have lost each other?"

"I don't know, Chief. I don't think so. We've survived more shit than your average couple – before we were a couple -- and while this loss would have been devastating, Jake would have been alive and there was always the chance that we could visit. Damn, that sounds lame now, doesn't it? Shit." He scrubbed at his face. "I swear, I don't think so, Blair. Losing you would do me in."

"Same here," Blair murmured as he moved closer. "Same here."

Jim pulled him into his arms and sighed in relief when Blair's arms wound their way around his waist. Lips against Blair's temple, he said, "We'd have weathered it, Chief, I swear it. But thank God we don't have to find out if I'm right – if you know what I mean."

Blair chuckled into Jim's neck and they both squeezed harder before Blair said, "Wanna go sit in Jake's bedroom?"

"More than anything, Chief. Well, okay, an offer of sex would make me stop and think…."

The ringing of his cell phone woke him up. Blinking blearily, Jim sat up and tossed the covers off. He checked the alarm clock and groaned. Five a.m. Damn. He glanced over at his sleeping partner, grateful that only his sentinel hearing could pick up the light chimes of his phone. He hurried out to the living room and pulled the cell from his jacket pocket.

"Ellison."

Feeling guilty that he'd not given the man a single thought since discovering Jake's birth certificate, Jim said, "Damn, Carl, I should have called you last night. We have some great news—"

"What?"

Shocked beyond all measure, Jim nevertheless went in search of a pen.

Naomi was more nervous than was appropriate for a woman her age, let alone one who'd just spent the last five hours in meditation. Which obviously hadn't worked at all. Carl was back and she needed to talk to him but didn't have a clue what to say. It wasn't fair to keep the information from Blair any longer. On the other hand – to tell him now, to rock his world just when it was showing signs of stabilizing – wasn't fair either.

But damn, Carl had done so much in the last few days, what with sending out his own people to investigate for them….

Oh, God. She rubbed her forehead and considered more meditation, but he'd be here soon.

What was a mother to do?

Blair kicked up the speed on the beaters and, after a couple of minutes, turned it off. He peered into the bowl and smiled. Perfect. Best… bestest … chocolate cake ever.

He unscrewed the bowl and poured half the batter into one cake pan and then the other half into the second pan. Setting the bowl down, he walked over to the kitchen door, pushed it open, and said loudly, "Cake batter bowl needs cleaning – if anyone is interested." Grinning, he walked back to the counter, lifted one of the cake pans and dropped it flatly so the batter would even out. He did the same with the other even as he heard the sound of running footsteps.

It was amazing how one four year old could sound like a herd of elephants. Really big elephants.

"i'll clean 'em, daddy!" Jake announced as he barreled into the room.

"You sure, Hoss?" Blair asked as he put the pans in the pre-heated oven.

"ab-sol-ut-leeeee!"

"Okay then, hop up to the table and we'll see about 'cleaning' up."

Naturally Jake took Blair at his word and hopped over to the kitchen table. He jumped up and settled himself on his phone book to eagerly await the bowl and beaters in the time-honored tradition followed by children everywhere.

Blair carried the bowl – spoon and beaters inside – over to the table and sat down next to his son. "Where's poppy?"

"he's with johnny and they're cleaning up the courtyard," Jake said, eyes on the bowl.

"Ah. Okay, you want to start with a beater or the spoon?"

"ummm, i want the … i want a… beater!"

Blair handed one of them over to his son while he took the other. Together, they started happily licking. Between swipes, Jake said, "are you making the frosty-ing from… scratch, daddy?"

"I sure am. This is a celebration."

Looking smug, Jake said, "then you'll need someone to clean that bowl too."

"Good point," Blair said as he picked up the wooden spoon. While he swiped batter off the front, Jake happily scooped it off the back.

"So what's prompting this special celebration, anyway?" John asked as he scooped up leaves into a bag.

"Oh, just… things. We've had a rough week and now… now we want to celebrate the fact that it's over. Sound good?"

"Hey, man, you know me. Any reason to party is a reason to party."

Laughing, Jim said, "So what's happening with you and Connor? My other half mentioned something about you two on the ins again. Is it true?"

John stopped what he was doing to look at Jim as if he'd never seen him before. Finally he said, "Your … other half?"

Looking surprised, Jim said, "What?"

"You've just never… he's always… you know… your partner. As in… detective partner."

"It's not like you don't know we're—"

"Of course, but that's not what I meant. You've just never actually said anything that would … you know," he finished lamely.

"Yeah, well… get used to it. Blair's my," he suddenly smiled. "Blair's my husband."

John held out his hand, palm up and Jim slid his over it. Laughing, John said, "All right, Jim. I do believe you're growing up."

"'Bout damn time, Sandburg would say. And now… you and Connor?"

"Yeah, we're trying again. I think we'll make it this time. I admit to having been scared silly, but now, now I just want her in my life."

"Good for you, John. And I take it Megan has no problem accepting you as the bum that you are?"

Grinning, John said, "Exactly."

They shared another laugh and went back to cleaning up the courtyard for the Anjasmayo TGIF celebration – that Blair had invited everyone to attend.

"William, Steven, will you guys take these for me?"

Both men were seated in the dining room while waiting for Sally to finish in the kitchen. At her request, both rose quickly as William said, "On our way."

They walked in and froze. Steven, who'd arrived from England later than planned, thanks to the lack of airline efficiency, stared at his father, who stared back. Finally both looked at the array of bags as William said, "What – exactly -- do you have in these, and since when was it decided that we were feeding Jim and Blair's entire neighborhood?"

Sally chose to ignore the last part of William's comment and said rather proudly, "Well, there's the spinach cheese dip, the sourdough boulet to put it in, and … let's see, the roasted cherry tomatoes in cream, some marinated asparagus to put on the grill, oh, and a crudite tray. That's all."

Impulsively, William leaned over and kissed his wife's cheek. "You're a wonder, Sal."

"We can't go empty-handed, William, not when the entire building is going to be in attendance."

"Of course not."

Steven peered into the top of the bags and said curiously, "Nothing special in here for Jake?"

"Well… I did make … you know, his favorite puff pastry cheddar cheese straws. And maybe… well, I added nutmeg to the cream for the tomatoes – you know how he loves that. And… I made … fricos."

Grinning, Steven said, "Great. I love it when he says… 'parmashawn'."

With that, both men loaded up and they all headed out.

Naomi put the lid on top of the huge bowl of salad and then grabbed a baggie. Holding it open, she picked up the cookie sheet in order to slide all the freshly cooked croutons into the baggie.

"Here, let me help," Simon said as he came up behind her.

"Thanks. I don't want to spill a single one. You know how he loves his croutons."

Chuckling low, Simon said, "Oh, yeah. You did make your Stilton bleu cheese dressing, right?"

"You have to ask? One container for all of us … and one for Jake."

Simon laughed outright at that as he gave the cookie sheet a nudge to help a few stray toasted bread cubes into the bag. Finished, he put the sheet into the sink while Naomi sealed the bag. As he turned on the water, his intent to wash the aluminum tray, he said, "So what happens now with Blair and telling him about his father?"

Tucking the baggie into the large cooler on the floor, Naomi answered, "I… Carl and I talked earlier and … I invited him to join us tonight. I think we need to tell Blair but we'll wait until the party is over for any serious discussion that Blair might need." At Simon's look of surprise, she quickly added, "Simon, I know that if I wait any longer – I'll lose my nerve altogether."

He gave a small shake of his head and said, "I don't know if having Sabotini joining the celebration tonight is a wise move. Are you sure that's the way you want to go?"

She nodded as she straightened. "Yes."

"Have you told Jim?"

She shook her head.

Simon leaned against the counter and said patiently, "Naomi, your son is the brightest, smartest man I know. When Sabotini shows up at your invite – and you know Blair's going to ask how you two know each other – then he'll put it all together and he'll know."

Gaze steady, Naomi said, "I know."

"Whoa. So that's how you intend to tell him?"

"Yes. And later, like I said, if he needs to – we'll talk about it – the three of us."

"Holy shit."

They rode down to the lobby in silence, Simon digesting and Naomi worrying. When they stepped into the lobby, Simon held her back. "Wait."

"What?"

"What about you and Sabotini now?"

She cocked her head. "What do you mean?"

"You and him. Now. And … us."

"Us? As in," she moved her finger between them, "you and me?"

He nodded.

Naomi leaned up and kissed his lips lightly. "We're just beginning, Simon. Let's take it one step at a time, okay?"

She started to move away, but he pulled her close. "Don't you think we're too old to take it slow? Second chances don't come along every day."

"No, Simon, they don't."

Frowning, he released her, the meaning of her words … clear. He wasn't the only one with a second chance at happiness – so was Naomi – and Carl Sabotini.

Seeing his frown, Naomi touched his lips. "Simon, don't borrow trouble. Carl and I are old news. The second chance I was talking about was Carl's with Blair. I robbed him of the first one – I can't do it again. As for you and I… to quote a certain chef … I'd be more than happy to kick it up a notch."

"Oh."

Smiling serenely, she said, "Come on, we have a party to attend."

Still frowning, Simon picked up the cooler with a grunt. "Jeez, Naomi, since when does salad weigh so much, anyway?"

"Since there's a lot more in there besides salad, silly. There's also Jake's favorite beef and cheese empanadas and Blair's favorite crab empanadas. And of course, Jim's favorite olive tapenade. Oh, and your favorite pineapple salsa."

Looking inordinately pleased, Simon followed her out as he said, "Oh."

"Steaks marinating?" Blair asked from where he was sitting on the edge of their bed.

"Yep. Everything's as ready as it can be. Extra tables and chairs out, both barbecues going, and the ladies of the Anjasmayo are doing us proud with decoration, lanterns, the works. Oh, and Jake is running hither and yon while making sure everything is perfect for his first TGIF party. Our problem is going to be explaining to him that no, we don't do this every Friday – or even every fourth Friday."

Blair ducked his head and said, "I might not have been as quick on my feet as I thought. TGIF was probably not the best thing I could have said."

Jim walked over, shoved Blair's legs apart and inserted himself between them. "I think it was fucking brilliant and we are going to celebrate tonight. End of story."

"Except – while we aren't losing our son – the Lloyds didn't get a son back," Blair said softly, his pain obviously warring with his joy.

"Oh, shit, I forgot to tell you… damn it." Jim moved out from Blair's legs and sat down next to him. He lifted Blair's hand and slid his fingers between Blair's. "I did something… I went to someone I thought could really help us. I called … Sabotini."

Looking surprised, Blair said, "What? Why?"

"Because he has connections all over the place, his own private detectives and the resources to do what the Feds can't. He could take it to the street and I knew he would. He's developed an attachment—"

"So help me, Jim, if you imply—"

"Hold your horses, Chief. He likes you – us – Jake. I knew he'd help and he did. If Jake hadn't come up with that birth certificate, well, we'd have been all right because… he gave me an address – which I passed on to McNamara. Carl believed it would lead them to Davey Lloyd. McNamara promised he'd call us when he knew anything. About anything."

"Gee, when you forget something, Jim, it's big."

"Well, I had… you know, other things on my mind at the time."

Blair patted Jim's cheek. "Yeah, I know. Poor baby. The pressure to retain your crown as Barbecue King of Cascade must weigh heavy on that mind of yours – small as it is."

"Gosh, thanks for understanding, Chief."

"That's what a good partner does, Jim."

"Rat bastard."

The party was in full swing, the tenants, friends, and family of the Ellison-Sandburg-Porter household mingling happily in the courtyard and enjoying a beautiful early summer evening. The steaks were grilling, the foods were laid out and the drinks were flowing. Jake was stunned at the amount of his 'favorite' foods that managed to find their place on the tables, and kept going after one more "bestest" food.

For William, Steven, Sally, Simon and Naomi, the evening was poignant in its joy. None of them strayed far from Jake and all of them found reasons throughout the party to hold him, hug him, and exchange Eskimo and butterfly kisses.

The steaks were almost ready and the corn was just being taken off the grill by Jim when Carl Sabotini walked in through the entryway. Jake spotted him and immediately ran over, arms held high. Carl swung him up as Naomi separated herself from Megan and John to walk toward the father of her son.

"Hi."

"Naomi. Thank you for inviting me."

Jake patted Carl's cheek and said, "you know my nomi?"

It was at that moment that Blair walked over. He looked from one to the other, a puzzled frown on his face.

"Mom?"

"Honey. Carl and I … we… yes, we … know each other. We met at Berkeley."

"Berkeley," Blair repeated.

Calm and composed, Naomi simply nodded, trusting that her son would work out the numbers.

And he did.

"That would have been in… nineteen—"

"Yes, Blair."

Blair's eyes narrowed and Carl, sensing something, set Jake down and said, "Would you bring me a water, Jake? I'd really appreciate it."

"i can do that! be right back, 'kay?"

"Okay, and thanks."

Jake ran off and Blair looked at Carl … and then at his mother… and back to Carl. After what seemed an eternity, he said, "I see."

Naomi stepped closer to her son and placed one hand on his arm. "Honey—"

"We'll talk later, all right? We have a party and a celebration to … you know… celebrate."

Blair turned and walked over to where Megan and John were talking to Sally.

"Well, that went well," Carl said, his gaze fixed on his son.

"You have to understand Blair. He needs to … process. And when's he done, he'll talk."

"That's funny, I thought that was you," Carl said gently.

"No, I process and then … run. Or I used to. Blair never runs, he faces head on – eventually."

"Naomi," he touched her arm lightly, "I think I should go. If he wants a dialogue, let him know I'll be waiting, all right?"

"Carl, no—"

"Yes, Naomi. Yes." He looked over at his son … one final time… and added, "I can wait. I can… wait."

And then he was gone, the gate clanking softly behind him.

Stunned, she was totally unprepared for Jake, who ran back with a bottle of water raised high in the air.

"my nomi? my nomi, where—"

"Oh, sweetie, I'm sorry, but Carl had to leave – work, I think."

Jake looked at the water in his hand and, lower lip protruding, said, "oh."

She bent over and picked him up. "Come on, let's go get some of your favorite cheese straws to go with that water, all right?"

Still sad, but brightening up, Jake said, "i could do that. gampa brought parmashawn coins too!"

"Yes, he did. Let's go."

Blair felt himself shutting down. Which was weird. This was one hell of a happy day and he was shutting down. He stood next to Megan, knew they were all talking, but he wasn't hearing anything. And this wasn't him. It was Jim, but not him.

Jim shut down – he didn't.

"…Sandy?"

A hand on his arm and he turned to face Megan. "What?"

"I asked who the good-looking man was. He looked very familiar."

"Did he?" Blair said, his voice sounding distant even to his ears. "That was Carl Sabotini. We worked on his wife's murder a while back. Maybe that's why you recognize him."

"Ah." She looked thoughtfully over at the gate that Sabotini had just disappeared through and said, "You know, there's something else about him. He reminds me of someone …."

Megan's words seemed to resonate within him as he remembered how he'd immediately liked Carl – had trusted him – had known that he hadn't killed his wife. Blair rubbed at his eyes and thought of his son – and how quickly and completely he'd taken to Carl.

He looked over his shoulder at the gate… and found himself saying, "Well, that might be- because he's … my father."

Saying the words seemed to galvanize him into action. "Excuse me, guys, I'll be right back."

With that, he turned and almost ran out of the courtyard, ignoring both Jim's look and his mother's voice as she called out his name.

Carl walked slowly across the street to where he'd parked. He beeped the car with the remote, but paused when he reached the driver's door. It was strange finding himself a father after all these years and already loving the man that was his son. Maybe it was natural – a connection that couldn't be denied – or maybe it was learning about him through all the articles, photographs and school records. He didn't know, but the love was there and so strong that he'd been hurt when Blair had, in effect, turned away from him. Not that he could blame him, because he couldn't.

"Carl?"

The sound of Blair's voice washed over him and sent small shivers of joy up his spine. He turned slowly to see Blair jogging toward him. The street was empty and Blair slowed to a stop in the middle.

"Would you… would you come back?"

"Blair, I think—"

"Please? I… I was rude and that was unforgivable. I'd really like it if you'd join us." He moved closer and said softly, "Apparently I have two things to celebrate tonight."

"Okay, you evidently process quickly," Carl said with a smile.

"What?"

"Your mother said you'd process and then talk," he answered, his smile growing wider.

"Ah. Well, I think it's altogether possible that I've been … processing … from the moment we met. I think I may have … known … sort of. And besides, fathers and sons seem to have great significance tonight, don't you think?"

"I do."

"So come on, then. The steaks are burning as only Jim can burn them."

"Ah, so that's what I smell."

Laughing, Blair waited until Carl came abreast and, together, they walked back inside.

The torches were lit as were the hanging lanterns, and all the tables were full of happy, relaxed people. The steaks had been stacked on platters, along with the corn, and everyone had gone through the quickly erected buffet for all the other goodies. Jake was in seventh heaven, his plate full of his favorites and his parents on either side of him. Naomi sat opposite with Simon on one side and Carl on the other, with William, Sally and Steven rounding out their group. Jim looked around him and gave a small, amazed shake of his head.

Never in a million years would he have imagined this, a party to celebrate the fact that Jake was … Jake. Or that his entire family – minus one sister-in-law who was pregnant and thus not allowed to fly – would be present.

He glanced over at Carl, who was currently being taught the fine art of eating an empanada by Jake. It looked as though Jim now had not only a mother-in-law, but a father-in-law as well. One look at Simon and Jim quickly amended that -- two father-in-laws.

Who knew?

The courtyard had been returned to its normal state and the residents of the Anjasmayo were once again in their own homes, sated and happy. In the Ellison-Sandburg-Porter home, leftovers had been packaged and were resting in the refrigerator, but Jake, who was helping his daddy with the last of the cleanup, was looking with longing at the small bit of chocolate cake left on the platter. Blair looked over his shoulder at his son and grinned.

"Now, Jake, if you have that last bit of cake tonight, you won't be able to enjoy it tomorrow with all the leftover goodies."

Jake took a sniff of the chocolaty goodness and said, "but… but … you could make a new one tomorrow, daddy."

Seeing a rerun of their Thanksgiving battle over more pumpkin pie, Blair decided to give in. Besides, making another cake tomorrow wouldn't be such a bad thing, would it? Of course not.

"Well, you make a good argument, Hoss. Let's demolish what's left, all right?"

Eyes alight, Jake said, "you be the man!"

Nonplussed, Blair could only stare at his son.

Jim suddenly burst out laughing. Which wouldn't have mattered to anyone, except Carl had been in the process of catching everyone up on the Lloyd case and all that his team had uncovered. All talking stopped as William, Simon, Steven, Sally, and Naomi turned to stare at Jim.

Who finally shrugged and said, "You had to be there." Then his eyes narrowed as he said, "And just who is responsible for teaching Jake the phrase – 'you be the man' – anyway?"

Steven suddenly went into a coughing fit as his father's eyes bugged out and Simon whistled innocently.

"Judging by your reactions, I know exactly who to blame and when I tell Sandburg – well, payback is a bitch," Jim said, a wicked gleam in his eyes. Then his expression changed as he said softly, "Blair and Jake are about to take on the last of the chocolate cake. Anyone want to join me in a covert operation?"

William, Simon and Carl were on their feet instantly. Naomi and Sally looked at each other and smiled as they shook their heads while Steven just looked confused.

"Come on, then, let's go," Jim said as he indicated the three men should follow him.

They moved quietly toward the kitchen door, the three in the living room more interested in watching them then what was going on behind the swinging door.

Jim turned and put a finger to his lips as the other two hunkered down behind him and they all gathered around the door. Slowly Jim pushed it open….

"Jake… did you just smear my face with frosting?"

Jake, the epitome of innocence, said, "who, me?"

Blair ran his finger over the top of the piece of cake they were both munching on, thus scooping up a nice blob of frosting – which he placed lovingly on the end of Jake's nose.

"da-deeeee," Jake whined, none to convincingly.

"Oh, look, you seem to have frosting on your nose. I wonder how that got there?"

Biting down on his lower lip, Jake regarded the cake and his father – obviously considering another frosting attack. Slowly he reached out his hand….

"Oh, wow," Carl said.

Simon, William and Jim said simultaneously, "Sssh!"

"Jake, so help me," Blair warned as a handful of chocolate cake found its way into Jake's hand.

"what, daddy?" Jake said angelically.

"Jake…."

His right cheek suddenly had chocolate cake adhered to it. He ran a finger through it, studied the glob… and then popped the digit into his mouth. "Yum," he said.

Giggling, Jake ran his finger through the remaining mess and copied his father. "yum!"

Blair, looking down into his son's happy – and messy – face, said, "Jim? You guys want to join us or are you going to stay out there and just watch?"

Sally handed the clean plate to Naomi, who dried it off. The kitchen was once again a shining example of cleanliness, thanks to the two women. As Naomi put the cake plate away, she said, "You've got to love men."

"You mean children, don't you?" Sally said as she turned off the water and put the sponge away.

Laughing, Naomi nodded and said, "There's a difference?"

Sally faced her friend and said with a wink, "Can't live with them, can't live without them."

Nodding, Naomi said, "Spiders, groceries, trash and opening pickle jars."

"They deliver groceries now, and a vacuum cleaner takes care of the spiders," Sally said wisely.

"And you can get pickles fresh from the deli," Naomi said.

"And trash compactors make it very easy to take out the trash," Sally added.

Both women burst into laughter.

"They're laughing at us, aren't they?" William asked his son.

"Yep," Jim said.

"Women," Steven said. "Can't live with 'em, can't live without 'em."

Jim looked over at Blair, who winked. Both men burst into laughter.

Steven watched them and muttered, "Okay, some of us can."

"Okay, Hoss, it's time for bed," Jim said from where he stood – over Jake – who was on his stomach, on the floor, and coloring in one of his coloring books.

"do i have to, poppy?"

"You do. It's already past your bedtime, so up and at 'em, welp."

With exaggerated drama, Jake sighed and closed the book. He put each crayon away – slowly – before finally standing up. "i think i should stay up longer, poppy, i do." He peeked around his father to look imploring at his grandfather. "don't you, gampa? don’t you think i should stay up longer?"

William melted. "Well, maybe a bit longer. That would be okay, wouldn't it, Jimmy?"

Jimmy turned around to stare at his father, who flushed a deep red and said quickly, "Or not. No, no, I think maybe you should go to bed, Jake. Yep, definitely bedtime."

Jake looked the other way and said, "unca stevie?"

Putting up both hands as if to ward off an evil beast, Steven said, "Don't look at me, Jake. I'm on England time so it's way past your bedtime."

Grinning disarmingly, Jake said, "unca simon?"

"Oh, maybe a bit—OW!" He rubbed his left hip where Naomi had pinched him. "Bedtime, Jake. Definitely bedtime," he finally managed to mutter.

"Before you ask me," Carl said, "how 'bout you show me this race car bed you were bragging about earlier? I just can't imagine a race car as being all that comfortable to sleep in."

Jumping up and down, Jake said, "i could do that, i could. come on, my carl, i'll show you everything!"

"Huh-oh," Blair said. "You're in for it now."

Laughing, Carl got up and held out his arm to Jake, who used it to launch himself into Carl's arms. "You don't mind, do you, Jim, Blair?"

Smiling, Jim said, "Not at all."

"Go for it, Carl," Blair said. "Just remember – you asked for it."

Carl started to head for the hall when Jake stopped him. Speaking with great authority, he said, "no, no, first must kiss everyone good-night. it's a ruuuuule."

"Ah. Of course. Who do we start with?"

The next couple of minutes were spent with Carl walking from individual to individual and letting Jake kiss, hug, and rub noses with his family. When it was Jim and Blair's turn, Blair said, "We'll be in shortly, Hoss, so save up those kisses, okay?"

"'kay!" He turned in Carl's arms and said grandly, "we can go now!"

"The king has spoken," Jim muttered.

"Lead on, McDuff," Carl said happily.

Jake might not know what – or who – McDuff was, but he was more than content to "lead on".

"… and this is where i make my picshures an' i make jaggywars and wolfies for my daddy and poppy, see? an' this is my toy box, see? an' all my toys are the bestest, but some have to rest in here, see? an' this is my pengy and i sawr his relytives at the zoo and they made me laugh. this is my weewah an' i fed the real weewah and he pulled my hair but i didn't mind, see?"

Carl Sabotini sat in his grandson's bedroom and, eyes bright with emotion, watched and listened to Jake as he was shown "everything." He somehow knew that he was getting a chance to see the child his son had been even though Jake was very much his own person.

Grateful for second chances – Carl continued to watch, listen, nod and grin.

"What time did he say he'd call again?" Simon asked.

"Ten," Jim answered.

"So… one in the morning his time."

"Hey, their flight didn't even land until, what, after eight?" Blair offered as he rose to his feet. "Jim, don't you think we'd better head in there and rescue him?"

"Yeah, we've let him suffer long enough," Jim answered with a grin.

"We'll be right back, guys," Blair said as he and Jim headed toward the hall.

Once they were gone, Naomi sat forward and said, "Simon, could they have already found the Lloyd child?"

He shrugged. "Anything's possible. McNamara passed the address on first thing, so they've had all day to look into it."

Naomi, suddenly afraid, got up and said, "More coffee anyone?"

"I could use more," Steven said.

"I'll be right back then." She moved into the dining room, unaware that Simon, with a puzzled look in her direction, was following.

Once in the kitchen, she moved to the coffee maker and started the process of making more.

"Naomi? What's wrong?"

She put the coffee bag down and placed both hands on the counter. "What if… and it was ninety-percent… and they could believe that we faked—"

He didn't let her finish. He moved behind her and wrapped her in his arms, pulling her back against his chest.

"Won't happen. Anyone can see by looking at the certificate that it's real, honey. It's been folded and folded so many times, the signatures will prove out – there's just no doubt."

"Promise?" she whispered, parroting Jake's favorite phrase.

Smiling as he rested his cheek on the top of her head, Simon said, "Promise."

"Okay, under the covers, welp," Jim ordered as he took Jake's robe.

"i wasn't done, poppy! i still have a whooooole bunch of stuff to show my carl!"

"Yeah, well, Carl's going to be a frequent visitor, I'm sure," Jim said with a knowing look at Sabotini, "so you'll have plenty of opportunities to show him the rest, okay?"

Jake crawled over the bed to the head and then burrowed under the covers as he said, "promuse?"

"Promise."

"'kay!"

Jim leaned down and kissed his son again before straightening and saying, "Chief, I smell fresh coffee brewing so why don't Carl and I go get us a cup, all right?"

"Thanks. I'll be right there."

A gentle smile full of love on his face, Jim left, Carl, a bit less willing, right behind him.

Blair sat down on the edge of Jake's bed and said, "You like Carl, don't you?"

"a whooooole lot."

"I'm glad, because… well, you have two grandfathers now."

"i… do?"

"Yep. You know that gampa is Jim's daddy, right?"

"yup!"

"Well, Carl is my… Carl is mine."

Blue eyes went wide as Jake said, "ohmy."

Blair turned out the light, brought the door three-fourths closed, and walked back into the living room. Jim was there to hand him his coffee and together, they retook their seats.

"Is he asleep?" William asked.

"Not yet, but he will be," Blair said. "Carl, I … told him … told him that he has another grandfather."

William and Sally looked at each other before William asked, "Did we miss something?"

"Yeah, what's up?" Steven added.

Naomi coughed lightly and said, "Everyone, meet Blair's father."

The ringing of the phone came just as Naomi was winding down her story. Simon looked at his watch and said, "Right on time."

Jim nodded even as he rose to answer. He picked up the handset and said, "Ellison."

They all watched as Jim listened, gave the occasional, "I see", and nodded, but his back was to them and thus his expressions were hidden. After several long minutes, Jim finally said, "Thanks, Paul, I really appreciate the call. Right. And thanks again… I will, we both will. Goodnight."

He replaced the handset and turned around to face everyone. Eyes on Blair, he said, "They found him. Davey Lloyd. They also confirmed an error at the lab. The result we received was a mistake."

Naomi fell back against Simon. "Thank God."

Jim sat down next to Blair and did something unusual for him in public: he took Blair's hand.

"So, are you going to tell us how? What happened?" Simon asked, his policeman's curiosity getting the better of him.

Jim looked over at Carl and said, "You were right. Jane Lloyd arranged the whole thing out of jealousy."

Blair's fingers tightened around Jim's as Blair said, "Jealousy? What the hell—"

"She was jealous of her own child, Chief. So she arranged to have him kidnapped by literally giving him away – to the babysitter."

"Wait, that doesn't make sense," Blair said, clearly puzzled. "The scrutiny the entire town must have been under – how the hell could a baby be given to someone the Lloyds knew and the police not find out?"

"Let me kind of start over, Chief. Jane Lloyd was jealous of the affection her husband lavished on their son and she hated the fact that her life was on hold and that she had to give up all the things she loved because of her son. She started hiring various babysitters during the day so that she could get out of the house. It also turned out that she was a gambler – liked to play the horses. And she was winning. Which was when she got the idea to … give her son away. One of her babysitters was an eighteen year old named Jesse Colridge. Jesse's own parents died when she was ten and she'd been in the foster care system until her eighteenth birthday. She worked as a waitress as well as a babysitter for several parents. She loved Davey and Jane knew it. She also knew about Jesse's secret boyfriend who lived in another town over an hour away. She knew they wanted to get married but didn't have the money, so she made Jesse an offer she couldn't refuse. She offered her twenty-five thousand dollars and her son."

"Oh, my God," Sally said softly. "How could a mother do such a thing?"

Jim shrugged. "Mothers and fathers do much worse to their children, Sally. God only knows what Jane Lloyd would have done to her son if she hadn't come up with the idea of giving him away."

"So what happened next? How did they get it to work?" William asked.

"The boyfriend moved so that showing up with a child wouldn't arouse suspicion, and Jane handed over the money and her son to Jesse. Jesse drove to her boyfriend's new place and handed over the baby. She then drove back home so that she'd be available for the police. When everything quieted down and the news media was focused elsewhere – Jesse left town and joined him. And that's all there was to it. No one ever suspected Jane – and not because folks didn't know she was less than a great mother. No, the reason they never suspected anything was because of the father, Nick Lloyd. He was so devastated, worked so hard to find his son, that no one even considered the mother. She stood by his side and cried when it was needed."

"What happens now?" Blair asked.

"Now, Nick Lloyd is going to get his son back and Jane Lloyd-Mitchell is going to prison. As for Jesse, she and the boyfriend divorced two years ago and she's on welfare. Whether they go after the ex-husband or not – I don't know. After all, there was no actual kidnapping -- but they were part of the conspiracy. The court may believe that losing her child will be more than enough of a punishment for Jesse."

"And Davey Lloyd will be taken from the only parent he's known," Blair said softly.

"According to Paul, this is a good thing."

"What about Charbeau and Silver?" Carl asked. "Were they able to follow up on the leads my people provided?"

Jim's expression changed, went granite hard as he said, "Oh, yeah. Silver's dead. Seemed he owed a loan shark big time and tried to get out from under. The loan shark had other ideas. As for Charbeau – they found him in Bellingham, Massachusetts. He's given the Feds the whole story. It seems that while on the lookout for a child that matched the request… he spotted Jake and Diane and decided that Jake fit the bill. Only thing was – he liked Diane."

"Jesus," Blair breathed out.

"Yeah," Jim agreed. "As it turned out, he never took a child for that one order, just the money. Seems he fell hard for Diane. Unfortunately, drugs and fear of being found by Silver got in the way and eventually he took off on her. Which was when Diane made the call to Karen."

"My God, Jake could have been the stolen child after all," William said, stunned.

"Yeah," Jim murmured as he squeezed Blair's hand.

"Jim, did they ask Charbeau if he ever knew who … did Diane ever tell him who Jake's father was?" Blair asked, his tone fearful.

"Funny you should ask. If it had been anyone other than Paul McNamara involved, we'd have to find a way to ask him ourselves, but I think Paul's been on our side from day one – so yeah, he asked. Charbeau told him that Jake's biological father was dead. His name was Alan Miller and she met him not long after arriving in Massachusetts. He's the one that got her into drugs in the first place. She wasn't using much when she found out she was pregnant. A few weeks later, she woke up one morning and found Miller dead – an overdose or bad junk – she never knew. She went stone-cold clean through the rest of her pregnancy, which is why, I’m sure, Jake was born healthy. She'd hooked with up a group that was bumming their way through New England and they were the ones she was with when Jake was born. They were in Adams and you know most of the rest. She started using again and… there you go."

There was silence in the room and more than a couple of people couldn't help but draw certain parallels between Diane's story and Naomi's.

Finally Blair said, "It's really over, then. Jake's ours."

"Yes, he is. And next week, it'll be legal," William reminded them all.

"Oh, shit," Jim said. "With everything… and I totally forgot … we go before Judge Hendricks next week."

"To finalize the adoption," Blair added. "And we forgot to talk to Jake about his last name. Remember, we were going to do that…."

Smiling, Simon said, "You've got time, guys. You've got time."

Blair walked next to his father as they crossed the street to Carl's Mercedes. When they reached it, he laughed low and said, "Déjà vu."

"Yeah," Carl said as he jiggled the car keys in his pocket. "Look, Blair, I don't expect anything from you… I mean, I just want you to know that I'm here for you and I don't have any illusions that I'm suddenly your father, all right?"

Smiling in the dark, Blair said, "But you are."

Both hands in his pockets now, Carl grinned back. "Yeah, I am."

"We have time, like Simon said. Time to get to know each other. And we're doing the game tomorrow and Jake's already accepted you one hundred percent, so I'm thinking… as long as you don't try to place a curfew on me or take away my car… this could work, you know?"

Carl Sabotini chuckled outright at that and then suddenly reached out to finger Blair's hair. "Promise not to make you get it cut, either."

"At least now I know what it would look like if I did go short," Blair teased.

"True. And as you can see, no receding hairline. Genes are good in my family where keeping our hair is concerned."

Suddenly Blair bounced up on his toes. "My God, I just realized… I'm Jewish and Italian!"

"Well, yeah."

"Wow, I'm Italian. That's so cool."

"Which reminds me… you have a grandmother and assorted aunts and uncles. And damn, I've got to call and give her the news. She'll insist I bring you to meet her, of course."

"I'd like that," Blair said, suddenly shy. "I'd like… I'm sure I'll like having a grandmother."

"She's a handful, Blair. And meeting her will require going to Italy. Palermo, actually. And she'll feed you all until you burst. She'll definitely think you're too skinny, but she'll love Jake."

"Lord, he's got a great-grandmother," Blair said in awe.

"What about Naomi's—"

"Don't even bring them up, Dad."

Time stood still for both men as the word hovered above them. Carl felt a prickly moisture behind his eyes as he looked at his son. For Blair's part, he rubbed at the back of his neck and finally said, "You know, I used to practice saying that, imagined saying it to someone. Silly, uh?"

"No, Blair, not at all."

"I always told everyone – and very proudly too – that I didn't need a father, didn't want one and certainly didn't miss having one. But at night, in my room… you and I had lots of long talks. Not that I ever told mom. Or anyone else, for that matter."

"I've dreamed of a family for a long time, Blair. Dreamed of having children – a son – and now I have even more." He scratched the back of his head almost sheepishly and added, "Of course, who knew I'd get two sons for the price of one – since Jim doesn't really fit my idea of a daughter-in-law."

Laughing, Blair said, "No, I wouldn't think so. Although you've never seen him in his flowered apron."

"May I never," Carl said, joining Blair in his laughter.

As their laughter died down, there was a moment of awkward silence before Carl said, "I'd… I know you just found out and all, but I'd really like to hold my son for a moment."

"I wouldn't mind a hug from my… dad."

Slowly, clumsily, the two men held out their arms and did an odd little move toward each other. Chuckling, Carl gave up all pretense of taking it slow and simply pulled Blair into his arms.

Eyes closed, Carl held Blair close as he drank in the feel of his son.

They eventually parted and Carl said gruffly, "See you guys tomorrow, then?"

"Yeah, yeah," Blair said, his own voice husky with emotion. "We'll be there."

Carl got into his car and started the engine. As he flicked on the headlights, he gave Blair a wave and drove off.

Blair watched until the taillights disappeared around the corner.

Naomi heard him before she saw him and waited patiently for him to enter the courtyard. When he did, she patted the chair next to her. "Thought you might want a few moments before going inside."

Blair paused only briefly before joining her. The courtyard was quiet and peaceful, and in their little corner, gently lit by the fountain lights.

"I assume we need to talk," she said needlessly.

"Well, I would like to know why you told me you were never sure who my father was – that would be a start."

Naomi watched the water in the fountain fall lightly into the basin and sighed. "I guess – by the time we were talking about it – I was afraid to lose you. It was easier to let you believe you had a mother who wouldn't know which man had—"

"Mom."

"I don't know, sweetie. It just wasn't important by then. We were us, we were doing all right and living the life I felt was best for you. I didn't think you really – I didn't believe you'd be…."

She face him and said, "It was a good life, wasn't it, Blair?"

"Yes, mom, it was. But what about later when I was at Rainier? Why didn't you tell me then?"

"Would you believe me if I said I never even gave it thought by then?"

Looking at her and thinking back, Blair could believe just that. "Yeah… yeah, mom, I'd believe you."

They were silent for several minutes before Naomi said, "Do you think Jim's listening?"

"Yep," Blair said without any hesitation. "But if you'd rather he didn't, just say so."

"He'd stop?"

"Yep."

"Oh."

She didn't say anything.

"So… did you know that I have a grandmother in Palermo?"

"No, honey, I didn't. So I guess a trip to Italy is in your future at some point."

"Guess so."

More silence stretched between them until Naomi suddenly said, "It's been a helluva week since your return from California."

"Mom, I'm going to have to tell on you and Jake will be very upset."

"Now that's scary," Naomi said as she took her son's hand.

"Yeah. The waggle of his eyebrows and the pointing finger when he finds out you cussed? " Blair said as he squeezed her hand.

"Deadly," Naomi whispered.

"Yep."

"I love you, Blair."

"I love you, mom."

Inside, Jim settled back against the couch cushions and smiled.

Boston, Massachusetts - Wednesday

Nick Lloyd paced the corridor. It was clear to anyone who watched that he was a nervous wreck. On the bench against the wall sat his lawyer, Michael Connors, who was there more for support of his friend than for any legal issue. There was no question that Davey would go home with his father today.

"Sit down, Nick. Wearing out the floor won't bring him here any sooner."

"He's almost five. He won't remember me. He'll think I'm taking him from his mother."

"The rep from DCS has explained everything to him. He knows."

"Won't make it any easier for him."

"So, what, you want to leave him with that girl?"

Nick whirled on him and said angrily, "NO!"

"Then stop making yourself sick, Nick. The little boy you're about to meet needs you. He's your son."

Nick Lloyd ran a hand through his dark blond hair and nodded. "Yeah, and I need him."

A door could be heard opening, followed by footsteps. Nick turned and faced the sound. A moment later, a woman rounded the corner and started toward them. She wasn't alone. A small boy wearing jeans and a red and white striped shirt, walked beside her, his hand engulfed in the woman's. He looked scared and kept gazing around him as if searching for a way out.

He looked so small and helpless and lost but nothing like the eleven-month-old baby Nick had held so lovingly in his arms. As they closed the distance, he found himself moving toward them slowly, his eyes taking in the boy's face.

*I know that nose*, he thought. And the eyes….

"Davey?" he said softly.

The boy put his thumb in his mouth and, at that moment, Nick knew he was looking upon his son. He went down on one knee and slowly reached out. The boy looked up at the woman, who smiled, nodded, and let go of his hand.

Davey Lloyd took a tentative step toward the man before him … and then another. And another.

"why?"

"Why? Well, you have to have a legal last name and we have to give it to the judge today."

"oh."

"You okay, Jake?"

"can't i be who i am?"

"Of course. So you want to be Jacob Michael Porter?"

"no, silly. i'm jacob michael porter-ellison-sandburg."

Shocked, Blair sat back on his heels and stared at his son. He was helping him get dressed in his good suit in preparation for their court appearance but now his hands dropped to his side. He recovered enough to say, "You don't think that's kind of a long name?"

"no, it's me."

Blair smiled softly and adjusted Jake's tie. "You're right – it's you. Okay, that's what you tell the judge when he asks, all right?"

"you betcha!"

"… and it looks as though all criteria has been met by the parties seeking to adopt Jacob Michael Porter with only one item remaining to settle."

Judge Hendricks looked up from the paperwork and smiled. This was the part of the job he loved, even when those seeking to adopt were as unusual as the two men before him. His gaze moved around the courtroom, taking in the number of supporters for the two men and the child sitting so politely between them. He recognized most of the faces, having interviewed them and listened to them as they'd provided history and character references for the two detectives.

Detective Ellison's family was, naturally, present, as was Detective Sandburg's mother. And Major Crime was well represented today as well. They were obviously hoping their lunch hour would cover this momentous occasion. He'd do his best to make that happen. However, there was a new face today – one that he recognized from both the society pages and the news.

Carl Sabotini.

His gaze drifted back to the two men and the small boy. All three were in suits and ties and he had to admit – they were a good looking family. And yes, in spite of being less than traditional, they were a family in every sense of the word. He smiled at them and asked the last question they would ever be asked regarding the adoption of their son.

"Have you decided on a legal name?"

Richard Doan stood up and said, "Yes, your honor. The child in question has made that decision."

Hendricks looked over at the boy and cocked his head. "Has he indeed? Well, Mr. Porter, what's it to be then?"

Jake looked at his two fathers, both of whom nodded their encouragement. He stood up and said proudly, "i'm jacob michael porter-ellison-sandburg." He sat down and gave a firm nod of his head as if that concluded everything.

"My, that's quite … a mouthful. But I like the sound of it, young man. So be it. This court hereby recognizes James Joseph Ellison and Blair Sandburg as the parents on record for one… Jacob Michael Porter Ellison Sandburg."

He wasn't the least surprised when the people in the audience started whistling and clapping.

Jim loosened his tie and sat down next to Blair, whose tie was off and in his hand. "It's really over," he said, relief coloring his voice.

"Yep. He's ours in every way. Jacob Michael Porter-Ellison-Sandburg."

They were sitting in the courtyard, relaxing after an evening of revelry with their friends and family following the finalized adoption. Jake was finally in bed, so exhausted that he hadn't even complained that it was still light out.

"Jim, we're actually alone," Blair said quietly, as if by talking too loud, they'd no longer be alone.

"You noticed that, did you?"

"Yeah," he said with a grin.

"Do you realize how hectic our lives have been in the last week?"

"Yeah, I have an idea," Blair answered, grinning.

"You okay with… everything?"

"You knew, didn't you?"

Jim ducked his head and said, "At the restaurant. He laughed with your laugh. Please understand, Chief. It was your mother's truth to tell, not mine."

"I know. It's okay. She was going to tell me Sunday, wasn't she?"

He nodded. "Yeah." He looked over at Blair then and said, "Hard to believe we were in California a week and a half ago, isn't it?"

"That reminds me. Hang on, I'll be right back, okay?"

Puzzled but willing to go with the flow, Jim nodded – which was silly since Blair was already gone. A few minutes later he returned with a tray, which he set down on the small table between them. Jim grinned at the sight.

"Irish coffees. Chief, you're brilliant. And if I'm not mistaken – the photos from our vacation."

"Yep." Blair handed one tall mug to Jim and took the other for himself. "Everyone's seen them but us."

Taking a sip of the hot brew, Jim eagerly picked up the stack of photos and started to go through them one by one.

"I didn't realize you'd captured this one, Chief," he said as he looked down at a picture of Jake and him in the ocean, Jake riding on top of the surfboard as Jim propelled him through the water.

"I've got several. I followed you one morning and it's a testament to your enjoyment that you never knew I was there. Good thing I wasn't Godzilla or something," Blair snorted.

"Oh, I'd have spotted you then," Jim assured as he continued going through the photos and handing off each one as he finished. Occasionally he'd laugh or throw out a comment, but mostly he just looked at each one, a sappy smile on his face.

Blair went through them as Jim handed each one over, his own version of a sappy grin tugging the corners of his mouth.

"This one is a keeper," Jim said as he held the photo up for Blair. "This is… us."

Looking at the photo, Blair nodded. "Yes, it is. It's a good us, isn't it, Jim?"

Grinning from ear to ear, Jim said, "It's the bestest us, Chief. The bestest."

End – Full Circle Trilogy