Glasses

[ I have this image in my head. The character itself is a blur. So I'm covering all the bases. ]

Eyes cracked open, the groggy sense of sleep still clinging to his eye lids. Rolling over from his side to his stomach, Jamie pulled his right arm up through the blankets that were wrapped around him and partially falling from the bed. Rubbing at his face, the other arm curled under pillow and head. Opening his eyes to the real world beyond the realm of sleep, blue eyes squinted at the sudden intrusion of light. Images were forming as a blur. Pushing up on his elbows the world slowly returned into focus. The first thing his eyes caught that seemed out of place was the glass of water sitting on his bedside table just in front of his digital alarm clock. Now, a glass there was nothing out of the ordinary.

It was the lipstick on the rim.

Moving to sit up fully, both hands rubbed at his face, then over his hair and down his neck, palms coming to rest on bare shoulders. Sweeping across the room there was more coming to light that didn't belong in his room. Leaning over the edge, fingers reached for the top on his floor. Skinny fit female tee. Too small for even someone as skinny as himself.

Jamie could hear his shower running. Well, running and then soon coming to a stop, bathing the world in silence once more. The door to his bathroom opened, revealing a blonde wrapped up in one of his towels.

Grin formed on his lips and he dropped the top, leaning back on the pillows, both arms folding behind his head. "Well, good morning, Kate."

- - - - -

There was the scent of pancakes in the air. Soft music drifted down towards the room where she lay. Nuzzling into the soft pillows that held a familiar masculine scent Isobel was reluctant to open her eyes. But she did, and looked towards the bedside table and saw a pair of thin rimmed glasses. Small smile formed on her lips and she rolled over onto her back, staring up at the ceiling where silver stars were painted on a creamy blue background.

This wasn't her room. She'd seen this room many times before. Tonight was the first night she had ever slept within it, curled into the blankets and feeling the warm body behind her that somehow gave her a calming feeling as if she was laying beside the ocean. Fingers ran over the fabric of the large baseball jersey she was wearing, clutching it tightly.

Soon the curiosity and the overwhelmingly delicious scents of pancakes took over the want to remain within the warm bed. Slipping one leg out and followed by the other, Isobel made for the door that had been left ajar when the owner of the room had left. Fingers traced over the wall as she wandered along the hall at the far side of the house that lead off to the bedrooms and bathroom. The bungalow had gone through its fair share of conversations and rebuilds over the years. What had been the home of one had grown to a home of a family of five.

Her walk lead her to the lounge where the soft, relaxing music was at its loudest. Pan pipes, harps and the sound of thunderstorms and rain. Alastar's music.

Onwards, she came to the doorway to the kitchen.

"Daisy, tell Roo to wear more clothes when he gets out of bed," protested a young girl who sat at the central island in the large kitchen. Bright and sunny colours, the room was decorated to feel warm and inviting. The girl was only a few years younger than herself.

Also in the kitchen was David - who was busy making pancakes for everyone at the stove - and Reuben himself who was wearing a pair of black boxer shorts and white tube socks who was rummaging through the refrigerator.

"Roo, Daphne says that you're too naked," David said helpfully but obviously not the way the girl had intended him to say it if the pout that settled on her lips was anything to go by.

Daphne Hughes-Malone was the princess of the family. Raised in a home of males, they all loved her to pieces. David and Alastar had adopted her when she was only three years old. Her biological father had left before she was even born, and her real mother had such an alcohol problem and drug habit that she was willing to sell her own daughter to get her fix. Social Services had stepped in and removed the baby girl as soon as possible. There was no family for her to go to, and so Daphne had floated from foster home to foster home until Alastar and David had come along and scooped the three year old up.

"Tell Daphne that I can hear her," Roo replied from within the fridge. "Do we have any strawberry yogurts?"

"Have you two fallen out?" Isobel asked from the door.

Roo poked his head up from behind the open door and smiled at her. "Good morning, Izzy!"

- - - - -

The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes that morning was the glass on the desk filled with pens, rulers and a few plastic drinking straws of varying colours. Rolling onto his back before sitting up, he continued to look around the familiar dorm room. Familiar, but not his own.

"Well, good morning, sleepy head." Theo announced as he spotted Evander moving in the reflection of the mirror where he stood combing his ginger hair. "Sleep well?"

Instantly a blush flushed on his face and he pulled the blankets up to cover his bare chest. "Theo!?"

The older twin turned around to face the male in his brother's bed, flashing him a cool grin. "Nath said that he didn't want to wake you, but he had to rush to the maths room to pick up a few things so he can finish packing. He says he's sorry that he couldn't be there when you wake up. I told him I didn't want anymore details."

This was the last week that they would ever spend in the Constance dorms. High school was nearly over for all the fifth years. Evander and Nat were going to different colleges. There would no longer be the stray yellow jellybean coming his way in class. But he did not despair. He was not loosing Nathanael.

He was moving in with him. To live with. Forever.

- - - - -

With his head buried underneath the blankets the whole world was dark and any sounds that floated his way were muffled. Someone was talking nearby.

Poking his head out from within the warmth, blue eyes found a glass of orange juice in a tall glass sitting on the table beside the bed. A strong hand was retreating away from it having only just placed the glass down. They were still talking, and by the sounds of things it was only one person, meaning that it was a phone conversation and Ethan could only hear one part of the whole.

Not that he wanted to eavesdrop, but he found himself listening in anyway.

"I'll be in later," came the smooth voice. "He just needed someone to come and look after him, not matter how ill he isn't." The man chuckled, laughing with whatever had been said on the other end of the phone. "No, I don't think its too contagious, at least not anymore. When you feel like dirt it usually means that the body is fighting off the infection and winning." A pause. "Well I know you knew that, I was just playfully reminding you. Don't worry I'm not going to drop down dead before we meet her."

Ethan nuzzled down in his blankets even more. He felt horrible. Like he'd been ran over, and then the driver reversed just to run him over again. The bed shifted as a weight sat down near him.

"Goodbye, Star. See you soon. Love you." Another pause. "Well I have to say it. You might forget."

It was those two words that made Ethan want to remain within the confines of his blankets forever. Perhaps his bed could swallow him up and he didn't have to think about what he had lost. Unfortunately for him his bed was not going to eat him alive and instead a hand was placed onto his shoulder, giving a comforting squeeze. The phone conversation had obviously ended and now the man was free to focus his attention on Ethan. He didn't need looking after. He wasn't ill. The high fever was from the fact he was wrapped up so tightly. The murkiness in his head was from over sleeping. His throat felt raw because he was dehydrated. He wasn't ill.

David, however, seemed convinced that he was.

Ashes By Now

Scotland was such a beautiful place. Rolling hills, wild trees - so much natural beauty that was slowly slipping away from the rest of the world. Spending most of his time living among the concrete towers and pavemented grounds, Jonathan had almost forgotten the wonders of his home. It lingered in the back of his mind, infecting his memories. To be back here used to be a normal feeling.

The sunlight streamed in through the stained glass windows of the little crematorium. He stood before people he knew well, some he had grown up with, others only recently touched by his mother's warm heart. Drawing in a shaky breath, his eyes fell upon one woman stood in the rows, her head bowed low.

"For years now, Martha has stood in the shadow of death. She avoided its dark clutches so many times, and it seemed she'd never loose her will to live. I'm not going to reminisce on who she was - the woman we all knew and loved - because she always used to tell me that when her time came she didn't want people to remember her life as it had been, but more of what she wanted to take from life."

His brown eyes wandered over all again. His brother stood tall, shoulders proud with his wife standing next to him, weeping softly into her tissue. In the row behind them, he could see Isobel curled into Reuben's side, crying. Christian wasn't crying yet, but there were tears in his eyes. Little Ainsley and Jake had been left at a friend's with Daniel's little boy. They were still too young for funerals. Jake was probably old enough, but he'd been left to take care of his sister. The children had protested (Jake had, but Jon could tell in Ainsley's eyes she wanted to come), but Jon stood firm with his decision.

"My mother took all that she could get. They never had much when I was growing up, but she never let it get her down. She could make the best of any situation, always telling me that while the grass on the other side of the fence looked greener, our grass was just that; our grass. No one could take what we had away from us. If anyone dared, my mother gave them what we all know as 'a right good seeing to'."

He could hear Daniel's short laugh at the comment.

"I never thought that she would go. Strong and forceful, it seemed she'd go out with a bang. But she did it all in her own style. I don't feel as if she has truly gone because she touched everyone she met and left her own mark upon them. In my wife, Madeline, I can see some of my mother in her, and in all four of her children."

He bowed his head. "Gone but not forgotten - just like she wanted."

Moving from the front, he slipped back to where Madeline stood and linked his fingers with her's. Daniel moved from his spot and took the spot his older brother had left behind.

"My brother said more than I think he's said in his entire life," he joked, earning a smile from Jon. "My Mum never complained he was a quiet kid. Were it not for him, I doubt I'd be able to stand here and say anything at all. Now, we'll play one of the songs she demanded we play at her funeral, otherwise she was going to come back and haunt us. So, ladies and gentlemen, I give you - Bat out of Hell." The music started playing up, and Daniel shook his head. "Always knew she was bonkers," he said, moving away from the front.

Madeline turned to Jon while the people watched the coffin move out of view. "You can cry if you need to."

With a smile, he leaned over and kissed her. "I don't need to. I've made my peace with her death before coming here. I was there when she died. She said that crying over her death was something that people shouldn't do. Don't cry because she's gone, smile because she lived."

A Day in the Life of...

A little boy stood near the entrance to the school, snuggled in his jacket, the furr lined hood pulled up over his head like a little eskimo. his eyes looked out at the world ahead of him. Several feet away stood two figures engaged in what had started as a heated conversation was slowly escalating into an argument. He had been told by the tall red haired man to go and stand by the school door and not listen in to the conversation.

Nat had wanted Evander there to keep the little boy company while he yelled at the woman for being a closed minded bitch. Sadly Evander was busy with a patient, and Nat picked up the little boy on his own today. The pair were making their way to the car when the woman had stormed up to them and demanded that they 'cease their unholy ways' and whatnot. She was female, and Nat never hurt women, but this woman needed slapping.

Avery loved both his fathers. When learning to talk, there was a joke between the adults that they tried to get him to say 'mommy' to Evander.

And it had stuck.

He knew they were both males, and when he had first asked the question of "Why is my Mommy like a Daddy?" it had been answered as honestly as they could for a little boy. They told him that the lady that had given birth to him was his Aunt Juliette.

Nat had never pictured himself as a father. A cool uncle, yes, but never as a father. Evander had wanted kids - he was perfect for the role. Evander had an endless supply of maternal instincts while all Nat had was the ability to be the silly uncle for Belle and Anthony. Theodore had found he was father material, but Nat felt like he simply did not have any at all.

But he was willing to look for it for Evander. Juliette suggested she surrogate for them. Nine months passed, and still no sign of those fatherly feelings. Yes, he got the brotherly concern for his pregnant sister, but very little in the way of fatherly adoration was felt for the baby. He loved it, but didn't feel like he loved it like a father should.

Evander had been stuck in traffic when Juliette had gone into labor. Nat was at his little sister's side through the entire thing. When the tiny fingers curled around his own single digit, Nat didn't want to let the little boy go.

When faced with a woman like the one before him, Nat took his role as father very seriously. Biologically, he was nothing more than an uncle. Spiritually and mentally, he was the boy's father. He wouldn't have it any other way.

Finally, it was he who backed down. Telling her that she should take some time to drown in the bathtub, he marched away from her and returned to the eleven year old that had patiently stood in the doorway waiting for him. Blue eyes looked up to him, and Avery smiled.

"What did the lady say, Daddy?"

"It doesn't matter, kiddo," he said, holding out a leather gloved hand to the boy. "Let's go home now, shall we? I'm sorry about making you stand here, but I didn't want you to hear me shouting." Avery's hand fit snuggly in his own now. He gave it a gentle squeeze as he felt the fingers wrap around his own.

The drive home wasn't very exciting. They sang along with the Disney songs playing on the CD in the car (Avery sang, Nat mumbled along, it was Evander that was the one that sang Disney songs). Nat raced Avery up to the apartment, slowly his pace to keep behind the boy and make it seem like he was winning. The boy touched the apartment door first, and chasing up behind him, Nat scooped him up with both long arms, spinning him around, Avery's legs swinging out with the motion. He was deposited behind his father who set about finding his keys once Avery was standing on wobbly legs.

Inside the apartment was quiet. Quite for their home at least. There was the gentle hum of the tropical fish tank that sat between the door that lead off to the bedrooms and the window.

It didn't take long for Avery to shrug off his jacket and hand it to Nat, trotting off to his own room.

"Hey, don't I get a 'thank you' for being your personal slave?" Nat called out after the retreating form.

The light brown head poked out, the cheeky grin inherited by all those possessing the Morhan genes firmly visible on his lips. What made Avery's grin so much more special were the blue eyes that sparkled like the ocean accompanying the grin. His hair was ruffled from where he'd pulled the hood quickly from his head. "Thank you, personal slave" he chirruped before vanishing back towards his room.

Chuckling to himself and shaking his head, Nat ruffled his fingers through the long red strands of hair growing from his head. It was odd being home before Evander, but the school he worked at was on a two week break before the exams started. Usually, he would come and Evander would be there helping Avery with his homework or making dinner. Brown eyes wandered over towards the kitchen.

"No sneaking jellybeans before dinner," he called out to Avery before locating the universal remote and switching on the radio.

Evander came home to the radio on, Avery perched on the kitchen counter while his lover was busy in the kitchen. There was flour in their hair - which was surprising since there was nothing about what Nat was cooking that needed flour.

"Mommy!" Avery called out with a bright grin, skillfully removing the brightly coloured drinking straw from his mouth. There were smudges of flour on his face, dusting over his nose and cheeks.

"What are you cooking?" Evander asked, placing his briefcase down, removing his coat and then making for the kitchen.

"Daddy calls it 'Omelet surprise'," Avery offered helpfully.

"Surprise?"

Nat giggled, giving the boiling pasta a stir. "The surprise is there is no omelet. We're having tomato chicken pasta."

"And the flour?" he asked, licking his thumb and attempting to wipe the smudges from Avery's forehead. The boy whined and attempted to bat Evander's hand away, but the older male continued on. "I'll have to get a cloth," he added, mainly to himself.

"When cooking it is customary to be coated in flour," Nathanael replied, leaning down to kiss Evander's soft lips. "How was your patient?"

"Feeling better, but still far from a complete recovery. The mental process is such a difficult thing to understand."

"Which is why I prefer numbers. They're much easier to understand. The students are just a rogue equation that must be factored in."

Evander chuckled, looping his arms around Nat's neck for another sweet kiss. "I love it when you talk mathematics."

"You make it sound so sexy,"

"You two make it sound so wrong!" Avery added from his perch right next to his parents. "That's maths you're talking about! Maths is evil!"

The pair pulled apart. Evander blushed and Nat turned back to his cooking. "Don't worry, Avvie, when you're older you'll understand," he said before moving off to drain the pasta and add it to the sauce and chicken simmering away on the stove.

"Come on, Avery, lets leave Daddy to finish cooking. We'll go to the bathroom and clean that flour from your face." Taking the elven year old's hand, Evander lead him from the kitchen to the bathroom. Behind them, he heard Nat call out "He's not going to die from flour poisoning!"

Black Velvet

“Are you certain we can even get her into this?” Ethan asked, staring at the black dress hanging on the wall in his classroom. He sat perched on the edge of his desk, a mug of mint tea clasped in his hands. “That dress she wore for the awards night was longer than this – and less revealing.”

Lyra hopped down from her spot on one of the students desks. Ethan's classroom was almost chaotic in the way it was laid out. The students were allowed to position their desks where ever they wished as long as it face where ever Ethan was teaching, meaning each class had a different seating arrangement. Lyra had dragged Ethan out during their lunch break to shop for the perfect dress for Madeline who had recently mentioned not feeling as sexy as she used to since giving birth to twins. Ethan had known Madeline back when he had interned at Constance, and Lyra had built up a close friendship with the woman. There was no special occasion coming up, but they both felt that Madeline and her boyfriend needed something special to help get Madeline feeling sexy again.

“Trust me, Ethan, she'll be feeling better in no time,” Lyra said, taking the dress down and folding it neatly over her arm. “Now, I'll go find the lady of honor, you go and find Jonathan.”

“Yes misstress,” he teased in reply, leaning over to place a friendly kiss to her cheek before Lyra left the room, trotting off down the halls of Constance to find the young history teacher. Knowing Madeline, she'd want to get home as soon as possible, so Lyra had asked Sebastian to try and stall her somehow. If he failed, or was too busy, Lyra's own brother was back-up. Alastar seemed apprehensive about it though, which meant the duty fell to David to coerce her little brother into being the one to actually keep Madeline behind. Morgan had already been convinced to take the twins off of Madeline's hands at the end of the day. He was probably already with them now, being the doting father that he was.

Lyra soon reached the staff lounge, but just before she got there, the door opened and Madeline stepped out. Rushing to the doorway moments later was David. “Maddie, wait! You can't go yet!”

The woman turned around and smiled sweetly at the older professor. “Don't worry, David, I can still tell you on Monday, or I'll call you later tonight. It's only a silly little story anyway. I should really get home.”

“But you don't have to worry about the twins. Stay for a little while longer,” he replied, before looking towards Lyra and smiling that boyish smile of his at her. “Welcome to the part, LyLy.”

“Only I get to call her LyLy!” yelled a voice from within the staff room.

David merely grinned wider. “Job done?” he asked.

Lyra nodded. “Job done. What happened to Sebastian?”

“Morhan attack on the English department. Knight in shinning armor Sebastian to the rescue. He apologises for being unable to covertly divert Madeline.”

At that, Madeline raised a brow. “Covertly divert me?” she asked, hand falling to rest on her hip. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Lyra jumped in, slipping her arm around the other woman's shoulder. “It means I have a surprise waiting for you. Since Morgan is looking after the twins, and the science department is busy, I wanted to try out some new dance moves with a partner as elegant as you.”

Being led away by the older woman, Madeline looked to her, a confused expression etched onto her face. “But...?”

She didn't get an answer, merely ushered into the girls changing room by the dance hall. Once in there, Lyra handed her the black velvet dress. “Put this on,” she said, then slipped out.

Doing as she was asked, Madeline changed out of her comfortable yet presentable clothes and into what felt like the tiniest black dress she had ever seen. Black velvet, the skirt ruffled and flaring out, yet barely reaching her knees. A plunging neckline that revealed more than Madeline had ever done before. Wondering why Lyra wanted her to wear something like this, she stepped out into the mirrored dance hall, blushing at the sight of herself in the mirror-lined walls.

But Lyra was nowhere to be found. Instead, stood in the center of the room was Jonathan, wearing a pair of black dress pants, black waist coat and a deep red shirt that brought out the colour of his brown eyes. The woman was around somewhere though, because music started to play. Without a word, but with a soft smile on his lips, Jon moved to stand before Madeline. Taking her hands, he guided one to rest on his shoulder and held the other in his own hand. In time to the music, the Scotsman pushed off with his right foot and twirled Madeline around.

Lyra obviously wanted to try out some new dance moves, but she wasn't the one dancing. Instead, it was Jon that was twirling her around, the dance a mix of tango and ballroom, with a hint of modern that brought them close together, Jon's hands drifting over her body in ways that Madeline had never imagined before when it came to dancing. It left her face flushed and her lungs breathless.

He smiled at her, a glint in his eyes she rarely ever saw. “A little birdie told me that you haven't been feeling quite yourself lately,” he said as he spun her around and pulled her in again, only with her back to his chest, arms crossed and linked at her front. “I can understand that giving birth can make a woman feel...less attractive, but to me you are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.”

She leaned her head back, resting against him. He continued to sway them both, one hand drifting down her front. She could feel his fingers on her thigh, touching the fabric of the skirt. “But you didn't have to do this,” she replied.

Jon chuckled, nuzzling her hair. “Oh, I didn't. The little birdie did. Even taught me some dance moves.” Breath drifted down, whispering over her ear. “But I've added some of my own,” he breathed, tongue running over the lobe of her ear. The hand at her thigh gave a firm squeeze, drifting upwards and dragging the skirt with it, higher and higher.

“J-Jon...We're not alone...” She couldn't help but feel affected by what he was doing to her. The way he spoke so seductively in her ear sent shivers down her spine. She reached up with one arm, looping it behind his neck.

Hand pushed back down, bringing the skirt with it. Removing her arm, he pulled her around to face him, noses so close they were almost touching. Before saying anything, he leaned in and kissed her passionately, his tongue slipping into the warmth of her mouth. Pulling back, he pressed his forehead to her's, his brown eyes looking deep into her own. “Let's go home, Mads. But, keep the dress on. I like the black velvet.”

Memories on moving film

There were sounds coming from the television set downstairs. Curled up in bed, yet unable to sleep, Lake could barely make out the muffled noises emanating from down below, coupled with the occasional burst of laughter. Eyes slipped open to look at the slumber figure beside him, and Lake leaned up in the bed to press a soft kiss to his forehead before carefully climbing out of bed. It was nearing the end of summer, and the night air wasn't as chilly and cold as Lake had expected it to be. Tiptoeing from the bedroom and onto the landing, he could make out the voices a little more. What was odd was that he could just make out his own voice coming from the lounge.

Making his way to the room, he found Tatyana seated in the dark, a blanket pulled around her shoulders, arms curled around a stuffed bear. Her eyes were focused on the screen before her. Lake's own gaze drifted to the screen. It was no ordinary movie the girl was watching. They were home movies. Made by Lake and his friends back when he attended high school. A smile formed on his lips, and he carefully made his way to the girl's side, sitting down beside her. Arm snaked around her shoulders and pulled her closer, gaze remained on the moving pictures.

.

"Lake, put that thing away," commanded a female voice.

Lake turned the camera upon the young female seated at the desk in the dorm room.

"Oh c'mon, Martha. Just think, when we're old and Zak's fat, we can look back on these and laugh at Zak's hair cut," Lake replied from his spot behind the camera lens.

"Hey! I'm not going to be fat!"

Lake turned the camera onto the male seated on his bed. He had a pen pushed behind both of his ears, and once he noticed the camera was upon him, promptly gave it the middle finger.

"And this, kiddies, is Zak Taylor. If he's your Daddy, I feel for you. But don't worry, your Godfather Lake will rescue you!"

"You're not being a Godfather to any of my kids. I'm not ever having kids until I'm old."

Martha chuckled. "Zak, you're thirteen; you class being twenty and over as old."

Spinning on the spot, Lake settled on Martha once more. Creeping up to her, he zoomed in on the homework she was doing. "You answered that question wrong," he said, pointing to one of the mathematics problems on the page. "The answer is pie."

Martha rolled her eyes and waved Lake away. "The answer is not pi. I haven't even done that question yet."

"Pffft...Pie solves everything! C'mon, Zakky, we're going to see if there's any apple pie to eat!" Lake spun the camera around in his hands to face himself and he grinned. "This was Lake Dale, thirteen and a half, bringing you the latest from Constance Billiard Academy."

.

Tatyana snuggled against her father. "You were cute when you were thirteen," she said, lifting her eyes to look up at Lake while the picture on the screen showed a school corridor rush by as the one holding the camera jogged along. There was shouting, cheering and giggling by all involved. It mostly featured Zak attempting to do cartwheels and handstands and failing miserably.

.

Lake was seated cross-legged on a bed, singing Disney songs to himself as he tapped away at the laptop perched on his lap. He was dressed in his school uniform and his blond-brown hair was pushed back from his face by a bright blue headband.

"For all you ladies out there in video land, this sexy young thing is Lake. Sadly, he's off the market, because he's..." A pause, coupled with a chuckle. "In touch with his feminine side."

"Are you making some kind of dating video?" Lake asked, looking up from the laptop. "Because you're not doing a very good job."

"And you can do better?"

Behind them, the door opened. Zak spun around and aimed the camera at Elliot who wandered in. Lake shifted off the bed and took the camera from Zak's hands. "This, everyone, is Elliot. He's not gay, but I really am trying."

Elliot frowned, folding his arms at his chest. "I'm not gay, Lake. I like girls."

"I'll tell your boyfriend you said that on your anniversary," Lake replied with a giggle. "Let's have an on-screen kiss for the world!"

"No!" both Zak and Elliot said in unison. Lake turned the camera upon his best friend and zoomed in as close as he possibly could on the male's face. He looked a little older than in the previous clip, but not by much. His hair cut was still pretty much the same mop of dark hair.

.

Tatyana laughed softly, curling up in his father's arms. Lake may have not been her father biologically, but he was the closest thing she had to one, although most of the time he was more girly than her own mother. Dimitri was the rock that kept everything together - the source of masculinity in the family. Her mother was away so much that perhaps subconsciously Lake had taken up the role of mother to make up for the gap Noelle left behind whenever she went off on her world travels. She tilted her head back in an attempt to look at the man's face, a grin curled at her lips.

"We should show Uncle Elliot this film."

Lake snickered. "Nah, he still says he likes girls. But it would be fun to see his expression when faced with a younger self. He was only a second year there. We're getting close to where Dimitri starts getting mentioned."

True to word, there came a Russian voice from the television set. It was again in Zak's dorm, but Lake wasn't around. Zak was merely chatting to Dimitri, telling him about what it was going to be like now that he was moving in with him. It wasn't long though, before the door burst open, the camera swung around and there Lake stood in his school uniform and completely soaked through. He wore a huge grin, raced in and grabbed the one holding the camera and dragged him out of the room, ending that particular clip.

"How come it took you two so long to actually meet?"

Lake shrugged. "I never bothered to actually get to know him. He was Zak's roommate, but we rarely ever interacted much since he was rarely ever there. It was later in the year when I finally discovered him - or he discovered me - I don't really remember."

"What did you think of him back then?"

Lake grinned and motioned to the screen again.

.

"This sleeping mass is called Dimitri," came Lake's voice. "I said that right, didn't I, Zak?"

"I cannot believe you two are doing this to him..." sighed Martha.

"Hush and pass me the whipped cream."

"I'm not touching his man-bits," protested Zak who hovered near Dimitri's bed where he lay sleeping like a log.

Lake moved around the bed, capturing the slumbering form from all angles. "You know, he's actually quite hot when you think about it," he mentioned in passing, reaching out with his free hand to pull back the blankets to reveal the male's bare chest.

"I am trying not to think about it, Lake," Zak replied, reaching over with the can of spray cream and squirting it over the fifth year.

Lake snickered. "I'm tempted to lick some off."

Behind them, Martha sighed. "If you keep saying things like that, Lake, I'll suggest to him in class tomorrow that you fancy him."

"You wouldn't be lying," giggled Lake, scooping some of the cream on the tip of his finger and popping it into his mouth. "Now, Zakky, the chicken feathers."

.

There was a gasped from the teen as she watched a younger version of Dimitri tormented by his fellow school mates - one of which he shared a room with, and the other his soon-to-be boyfriend.

"He was furious the next day, and Zak has never admitted to doing it. He'd told Dimitri earlier he was having a sleep over with me. The next few nights he stayed with Zidget. I've never told Dimitri it was us either."

"Nice to find out eventually," came a voice behind them both. Lake flopped onto his back to look at his love, a wide grin on his face. Tatyana smiled sweetly at the Russian man, waving a hand shyly. "I wouldn't have objected to you licking it off....Instead of covering me with chicken feathers and writing on my face in pen."

Lake chuckled. "Well, you know how the world works. Karma and all that. I'll buy some tomorrow when I go grocery shopping."

We don't have the entire world, so make the most of this

It was hard getting his scent out of everything. Smells in fabrics clung like static electricity. No matter how much he washed everything, there was still that lingering smell that appeared whenever he held the clothes, or even wore them for a few moments.

In the end, he and Catrin took everything that David had ever touched in refuse bags and burned the lot.

It was the only way to get the smell out.

Catrin leaned against her older brother, watching as the flames danced before them both. Ethan slowly closed his eyes.

- - -

Standing in the empty lounge, ears searched for sounds that were no longer there. There were no happy giggle emanating from the bathroom where Harmony attempted to get Reuben into the bath to wash the daily dirt from him. He could no longer here the clatter of dishes in the kitchen, followed by Ben's giggles as he tormented his mother by stealing her ladel or other needed kitchen utensil and ran around the kitchen, brandishing it as a valued prize.

He dared not go anywhere near the boy's bedroom. He no longer slept there.

Somewhere came the sound of a door opening.

"Anyone home...?"

"In here, LyLy," he replied, letting his eyes slip closed so that the darkness to hide away the empty surroundings.

- - -

"I'm sorry, but I can't be what you need me to be."

He never wanted to see her cry, let alone be the one to make her cry. It was great, but there was something missing on his part. Reaching up, he swept away the tear that coursed down from her brown eyes. Such vibrant brown eyes - they were now drowned in sadness. He was the one to blame for the broken heart and the tears.

In the end though, he knew that she would find someone better. Someone who would love her the way she deserved.

Not wanting to see her crying anymore, strong arms wrapped around her and pulled Madeline close. Resting his chin atop her head, eyes slipped closed.

- - -

It was hard getting over someone. Especially someone that he didn't even think had effected him in such a way. Laying on his sister's couch seemed to be the safest place he could be right now, because the rest of the world had it in for him.

Someone decided to drop a pillow on his head. By drop, we mean smacked him across the head with it.

"Someday, you will get off my couch," the woman said, pushing her brother's side and causing him to roll off onto the floor. "She was a fling, you said it yourself. Get over her and get back out there. One of my friends from work were asking about you. How does a blonde with green eyes sound to get you back in the game?"

He sighed, laying there on the floor and pulling the duvet up over his head. His eyes were open, but all he could see was black and so he let his eyelids drop.

- - -

The plane was due to take off anytime soon.

He looked up into the Russian male's eyes and smiled. It wasn't a smile filled with sadness. It was a bright, beaming smile that lit his entire face up, reaching all the way to the male's eyes that his closest friend classed as "Christmas Eyes". It was meant to be a time of sadness, and yet he was smiling like the first day of summer.

Dimitri glanced down at the shorter male, confused at the smile. "You don't seem sad," he said.

"I am," came the reply, the younger standing on tip-toes in order to kiss him. "But I'm happy, because I know that you'll come back for me. This is not something you want to do, but something you have to do."

Dimitri smiled back, but there was a slight despair in his smile. Arms pulled the younger body to his own, and he rested his head atop the blond hair.

"Don't close your eyes," came a soft voice, murmured into his chest. "Closing your eyes makes everything sad."

Do anything for you

There was shouting and swearing on the landing. All in Russian.

"You really shouldn't have taught her that," Lake said, glancing up from the computer screen to look across at the male sat on the couch. "Any of it."

Dimitri chuckled, lowering the remote control and standing up. "I'll go see to the problem," he replied before heading out of the room to follow the sound of the female voice yelling in both English and Russian.

Lake sighed softly and turned back to his work. "Next thing you know, we'll get in trouble because she was yelling like that in school..." he murmured to himself, since Dimitri had now left the room and was off seeing to the distressed teenager that was most likely the source of the banging occurring above his head.

Why had he agreed to adopt her again....?

Ah yes, because Noelle needed someone to be a father to her baby, since the real father had wanted nothing to do with the child. Seventeen years later, and Lake had quite the handful on his hands. Perhaps it was the lack of major female presence in her life. Noelle worked globally, while Lake was local. She didn't want to drag her child around the world with her, so left the little girl in Lake's capable and caring hands. He was, after, the little girl's surrogate father. Even if he was as gay as a tree full of parrots.

Dimitri had adored her. Since she was getting Lake's name, both Noelle and Lake thought it best the baby girl get a Russian name so that Dimitri had some part in her life.

He had also managed to affect more than just her name. She was as much the school rebel as Lake remembered Dimitri to be. Luckily, they had deterred her from smoking, pointless acts of sex and underage drinking when not in the controlled environment of home. Recently, she had dyed what was once golden brown hair to a black with flamingo pink streaks. No one at home minded, but the school had protested a little about it. Lake had stepped up, saying that if she wished to dye her hair, then that was her own choice.

The banging and shouting soon died down. Glancing up at the ceiling as if he could see through the foundations to what was going on, he tried to imagine just what was going on up there. He was being distracted from his work, and decided that it was a lost cause. Pushing away from the computer desk that sat in the corner of the lounge, Lake headed for the stairs, and up to his daughter's room.

Reaching the landing, Lake could hear Dimitri speaking in Russian to the girl. After being with the male for well over twenty years, he still hadn't managed to pick up the language quite well enough to fully understand what was being said, but he had a grasp to be able to say the odd few things to Dimitri's family whenever he met them.

Leaning against the door frame to their little princesses room, he saw Dimitri pacing over the cream carpet while the teen sat on her bed. "So the yelling was because...?"

"Tatyana is having a few teacher-student issues," answered Dimitri, pausing to look at the male in the doorway. "Something about one of the teachers constantly failing her."

"I can tell him myself, Dimitri," Tatyana said.

"Verochka..."

"Before you two start arguing, can I please be clued in on why Tatyana is having problems at school?"

"Sorry, Lakeski."

"Yeah, sorry Dad."

Lake beamed at them both. "So...?"

"Mr. Hareson is a total and complete jerk!" Tatyana said, bringing her fists down upon her bed. "He's always scrutinizing my uniform and it has to be perfect otherwise he gives me detention. If that's not enough, he finds flaws with my mathematics homework! It's like I can't do anything right!" She let out a growl and flopped onto her back on her bed, pulling a pillow up over her head.

Lake looked over at Dimitri and shrugged. "See? This is why I'm gay. Emotional females are not my thing."

The Russian male laughed softly at his love's comment. "Do you want one of us to go in and talk to this Mr. Hareson?"

Tatyana sighed heavily. "What could will that do?" she murmured from beneath her pillow. "He thinks I'm an idiot."

"Have you done anything to provoke him?"

"Dad!" She sat up suddenly, tossing the pillow at her father.

Dodging the flying pillow, Lake made his way from door to his princess' bed, sitting down beside her. Hand reached out and tender fingers drifted through the soft curls in her dyed hair. "T, you know that we're just trying to piece this puzzle together with only one part of the image. Mr. Hareson must have a reason for disliking just you."

She looked up at Lake with her big, green-blue eyes. "I've heard he's one of those anti-gay types. Lisa said that maybe he's mean to me because of my upbringing. You don't think he's homophobic do you?"

"It's a possibility," Dimitri added, coming over and sitting at Tatyana's other side. "We should go and talk to this teacher and find out why he's discriminating you."

"And there'll be no punching him," Lake put in with a grin curling his lips. Leaning down, he kissed the girl on the forehead. "No more shouting on the landing. It disrupts the flow of energy throughout the house and the Feng Shui in the dinning room gets angry."

Tatyana giggled at his comment, then rolled over to give him a hug. Rolling to her other side, she gave one to Dimitri. "You two are the best any girl could ask for."

"Oh, your mother called while you were at school!" Lake announced, jumping up with excitement. "She's coming home for a whole two months! She'll be here next week. Do you wanna skip school and come pick her up from the airport?"

"You're really not helping her get through high school, Lakeski."

worth the wait

After high school ended, Dimitri had stayed in America while Lake finished his last year of school. Sadly, before that year came to a close, he was forced to go back to Russia and leave the young man behind. They kept in touch, but as the years went by their lives seemed to move on and they drifted apart. By four years, Lake was nothing more than a memory he would never forget. Then one day, completely out of the blue, there was an email sitting in his inbox from a FBIAgentDale@hotmail.com. Dimitri felt his heart skip a beat when he saw it. Waisting no time, he clicked it open to read its contents.

'Hey, Dimmy! How're you doing? I feel absolutely terrible about letting you fall into the shadows. I let my work take hold of me. It's been so long since we talked, even if it was just voice chat and webcams. I had a Russian model the other day and it made me think of you and how much I miss that voice of yours. You still smoking? I know I used to make fun of it back in high school, but it did give you a slightly sexy quality. I sound so stupid, don't I?'

Dimitri paused his reading to let out a chuckle. Gaze drifted to the cigarette held in his hand, burning away. Looking back to the screen, Dimitri gave a verbal reply to the text. “You never sound stupid to me.” Slipping the cigarette between his lips, he continued to read.

'Anywho, I thought that since I was thinking of you, I'd let you know how my life was going. OH! Before we get to me, Juliet is an aunt! Her name is Belle, and she is the most adorable thing I've ever seen. I don't know if you heard, but Juliet is recovering from anorexia. Her agent was a horribly twisted woman, and poor Juliet suffered because of it. When I found out, I told the woman she was never going to work in the modeling world ever again. I ruined her career. I heard Nathanael and Theodore ruined her life. Juliet is back on the mend. Do you read any fashion magazines? There was a huge feature about her in one of them. Didn't read it myself, but I took the photos. I'm mentioned too – because I'm Juliet's agent. She was such an inspiration to me in high school. The magazine wanted to feature me more, but I said it was about Juliet, not her gay agent with his flailing love life and lack of action for weeks. I bet you've moved on from me. There's bound to be loads of hot Russian geeks out there in Russia for you to pick from. We lost touch, so I tried. You're really hard to get over. I did like being under you too much I supposed. Heehee.'

Even if it was text on a laptop screen, Dimitri could feel a blush on his cheeks. Lake had been quite reserved when they first met. It seemed Dimitri had awoken some kind of beast within the male.

'I have no idea where I'm going with this. We never really broke up, so does that mean we're still together? Oh gosh, I hope you don't think I'm cheating on you! My feelings for you have never gone away; I guess thats why I can't seem to form any kind of relationship with anyone else. I miss you. When you're next in New York you should stop by. Let me know how you're doing. Lake xxx'

There was an address typed at the end of the email. Sitting back in his chair, Dimitri crushed out his cigarette and reached for his phone.

................

It had been four years since Dimitri had seen Lake in person.

And now, standing outside his door, Dimitri wondered if he still looked the same.

Swallowing the lump that formed in his throat, one hand in his pocket toying with his loose change, the other rose to knock at the door to the apartment Lake had given at the end of his email. His heart skipped a beat as he heard it open.

It hit the floor when gaze fell onto the person who appeared on the other side.

She was probably in her mid-twenties. Jet black hair with streaks of bright purple. It was wet, hanging in damp curls either side of her face. Blue eyes and a sweet smile. She was short, possibly around five foot four and wore an over-sized grey t-shirt that hung over her like a dress and a pair of black cutoff pants. What shocked Dimitri the most was the swollen stomach. Whoever this woman was, she was pregnant. Very pregnant.

She arched a brow at Dimitri. “Can I help you?”

“I'm looking for a Lake Dale,” he replied, scratching the back of his neck nervously. In the email Lake never mentioned living with anyone. He certainly didn't mention anything about pregnant women. “He does live here, doesn't he?”

“What do you want with Lake? If you want to meet with him you'll have to make an appointment. Wait here, I'll go and get his card.” She made to move away, closing the door, but Dimitri shot out his hand, holding the door open.

“I'm not a model,” he told her. “I just want to see him. To tell him how I'm doing.”

“You can do that by phone,” she retorted.

“I want to see him. Please?” He hoped that pulling the sad puppy face would get the woman to let him in. “I haven't seen him in so long.”

Tilting her head, blue eyes looked up and down him. “You're not the Russian with the big cock are you? Big. D.?”

That caused him to blush. “Lake says that about me?”

She shrugged, moving aside to grant Dimitri entrance. “Now and again you crop up. Usually when he's whining like a love-sick teenage girl.” Heading deeper into the apartment, she padded about in a pair of cream slippers.

The apartment had been designed with a minimalist theme in mind. The idea of having little clutter and everything in its right place had been completely discarded. The plain white painted walls were decorated with posters and pictures of family and friends. Some were obviously Lake's, but there were some he didn't recognize. The large flat screen television was playing some home cooking channel, and on the floor infront of it lay discarded game and DVD boxes. The black leather couch, shaped with such perfect angles had a variety of pillows in pinks and purples scattered over it, as well as a thick blanket – which the girl wrapped herself up in when she sat down. There was a bright red bean bag chair near the TV, and the coffee table had clutter. There was a fire place, complete with fake fire. The mantel shelf was lined with figurines from various animes and video games.

“Lake's in the shower,” she said, settling into the blanket, fingers curled around an Eeyore mug. “He usually takes about an hour. Make yourself comfortable. Sorry about the mess, we haven't really had time to do much cleaning.”

Dimitri nodded, sitting on the edge of the couch. “You haven't told me your name yet.”

She rubbed her face in embarrassment. “Oh Hell, I'm so sorry.” She shifted around, offering her hand to Dimitri. “I'm Noelle. I'm Lake's room mate.”

“And the pregnant part?” he asked, extremely curious.

Noelle laughed. “It's not Lake's before you get worried. Ever since I met him he's been one of those 'Eeeww, heterosexual sex' type of gays. Lake's just the only person that seems to care about me, because the baby's father sure ain't interested. I'm a photographer like Lake, only I deal with theater and current events rather than models. We met one day purely by coincidence and became friends within seconds. He bought me a bagel.” She smiled sweetly while sipping at her tea. “Whenever he's apologizing for something he's done wrong, even if I don't know about it, he'll buy me a bagel. Lightly toasted with cream cheese.” She looked up at him. “So what brings you here? Lake said you were in Russia. In fact, Lake whined, complained and had pathetic moaning and whimpering sessions about you being in Russia. Anyone would think he was a puppy who missed his master.”

Hearing the description of Lake made him chuckle. “Lake brings me here. Four years is a long time. Not a day went by when I didn't think of him. I missed his graduation, his first day at college, even his first day at work all because my father wanted me to go back to Russia. I never wanted to leave him.”

“I take it you're only here for a short while?”

Dimitri nodded. “I may stay longer; if I have a reason to.”

Noelle nodded, humming softly and mainly to herself as she sipped at her tea. Gaze returned to the television screen and the pair fell into silence. Several minutes later, a voice drifted in from one of the adjoining rooms.

“El, have you seen my pants?”

“Which pants?” Noelle called back.

“The black ones with the buckles down the sides. The tight ones.”

Just hearing the description had Dimitri imaging the male wearing them. Even if he couldn't see him, Lake still sounded much the same as he had in high school, if a little deeper.

“Last time I saw those they were in a heap on the dining room floor, Lake. When Ian stayed the night.”

A dusty blond head appeared at the doorway, the locks of golden brown wet from his shower. The sides were trimmed short, leaving the top in a mohawk style where the strands were longer, growing down the back of Lake's neck where they curled at the nape of his neck. Half naked, with a towel around his shoulders, it was obvious he wasn't expecting company. When his eyes fell upon the male seated next to his room mate on the couch his mouth fell open.

“Dimitri..?”

“So who's Ian?” Dimitri asked, trying not to let jealousy show, nor the fact that Lake had grown since he had last set eyes on him. The thin and gangly teenager had broadened somewhat and gaze fell to the bare torso, noting that Lake had not put on weight but instead gained a little muscle. He still had beads of water trailing down his skin.

Lake blushed. “Heh...heh...Well, Ian is...” He looked to Noelle for support. She merely grinned at him and snuggled deeper into her blanket. “Just some guy who stayed the night a few times. You were in Russia, and well, er, uhm, you know, he wasn't and...urm...and we, you know, but it's not like we're...er...ah...” Lake trailed off embarrassedly.

Pushing himself up from the couch, Dimitri stalked over to where Lake was standing in the doorway. Lake was still shorter than him, and the male tilted his head down and away, not wanting to look at Dimitri's face. Lifting a hand, fingers curled beneath Lake's chin, lifting his head to look up at him.

“I missed you,” Lake said softly. There were tears forming in his eyes and he chewed on his lower lip. “I missed you so much.”

“Oh just kiss already. You're worse than some of the soap operas I watch,” Noelle said from her spot on the couch. “I know you both want to, so just hurry up and do it. Hopefully before my baby is born.”

It was Lake that kissed him. Rising to his tiptoes and throwing his arms around Dimitri's neck to pull him down to his level. Lips met with force, heat and passion. Dimitri's own hands wove around his back, pulling him closer.

..........

Lake never did find those pants of his, although he didn't bother looking since he had something better to do instead of searching his apartment for clothes. Climbing out of bed, leaving a jet lagged Dimitri sleeping, he padded barefoot into the lounge where Noelle was cleaning up some of the mess and clutter. As she tossed an empty Chinese take-away box into the garbage bag, she looked up and smiled at her friend. “Well look who's finally decided on getting dressed. Well mostly dressed. Is that his shirt?”

Lake grinned, running his fingers over the button-down dress shirt that Dimitri had been wearing earlier. Other than the dark red shirt, he was wearing a pair of sweat pants. “You shouldn't be cleaning, you should be resting,” he told her, taking the bag from her hands.

“I'm nesting,” she replied. “And as such, I must make my nest the perfect place to have my baby.”

“What did you tell Dimitri about the baby?”

She sighed softly, running her hands over her hair that was now tied up. “That the father wants nothing to do with it and that you're the only person who seems to care about me the way I need to be cared about.” Hands fell to her bump, smoothing over it lovingly. “The same thing I tell everyone that asks, really.”

Lake placed the rubbish bag on the floor and wrapped his arms around Noelle. “Dimitri said that he's going to try and stay in New York. Permanently. I think he deserves to hear the truth, because I know he'll want to be a part of it.”

She looked up at him. “We haven't even told your best friend the truth yet – how do you think we're going to be able to tell your old boyfriend?”

“Because it's Dimitri and he'll understand. The chance to be a father; I know he'd love to do it. After all, I'm doing it. Just because the baby isn't biologically related to either of us doesn't mean we can't be a father to it,” Lake replied.

“So you're staying with Dimitri? What about Stewart? You have – had – a date with him tomorrow.”

Lake pressed a kiss to Noelle's forehead. “I never stopped loving Dimitri. Andrew, Ian, even Stewart. They're just me trying to replace something I know deep inside I don't want to get rid of. It's just like all the things we talked about. I'm gay and I'm raising some other guy's child as my own. Sooner or later I'm going to find someone who'll end up being a secondary father figure. It just happened before the baby was even born.”

“What do you think he'll say? The whole 'Oh, by the way, since you're going to be getting back together with Lake you're also going to be a father because he's adopting my baby to be their legal guardian since the baby's real father doesn't even care in the slightest', is not what he was expecting, I'm certain.”

Lake smiled. “Dimitri will understand.”