Previous part of Where You Are.

***

Chapter 27: Tuesday - At the End of the Day...

Standing on Avalon's main street looking up at the clouding sky, Nick said, "I think it was a good call to postpone our big hike until tomorrow. It's definitely gonna rain later."

"Yeah, and now we can hike the whole day tomorrow, instead of just half today." Greg shoved his wallet back in his pocket. "Okay, we're all set. I rented a golf cart for two hours. That's enough time to zip all the way around the island."

"Really?" Nick followed Greg down the block. "The whole island in two hours?"

"Yeah, my parents and I did this every trip. We have to stop at the Wrigley Memorial Gardens too, it's tradition. It's about a half mile hike up a dirt trail to see the monument and there's a great view. On golf cart day, we always ate dinner at the Seafood Shack, it's this place on the bay with picnic tables covered in red and white checkered tablecloths."

"It all sounds good to me."

"Great." With a goofy grin on his face, Greg pointed led the way to the rental lot. "This is our cart. You wanna drive, control man?"

"Nah, you know your way around." Nick hopped into the passenger seat and kicked back. "I'm supposed to rest and relax, remember?" After glancing around to make sure they were alone, he patted his buddy's knee and joked, "So, I'm gonna chill out while you show me a great time, honey."

"Okay, hang on to that A&M ball cap, jocko." Greg zoomed out of the parking lot. "Because I love driving these things."

"Careful now, there's a Dad strollin' a baby across the street up there."

"And look," Greg slowed the cart and whispered as though they were on an African safari, "two o'clock. Gay men holding hands. We're not alone on this island."

"Cue the Twilight Zone music," Nick laughed. "They gotta be like sixty doncha think?"

"If all goes well, that could be us one day." Feeling stupid for making another 'happily ever after' comment so early in the relationship, Greg fell silent and resumed the drive.

"So, which one was I when you were picturing our future just now? The chubby one or the one with the bad comb over?"

Happy to hear that the comment didn't freak out his boyfriend of forty-eight hours, Greg replied, "That's a tough call. I never gain weight, so I can't imagine me being the pudgy one, but you also have a fierce history of bad hair choices, so…"

"I was goin' through a friggin' phase! Jeeeez, when are you people gonna let that go?"

"Hey, if you ever want me to stop trying to kiss you, just grow that porn stache back." Greg shivered. "I still have nightmares from that thing."

"How is pickin' on me supposed to help me relax exactly?"

"Aww, we're in our flirtatious stage, Cletus. Picking on your porn stache is the verbal equivalent of me tugging on your pigtails on the playground. Or you tossing me overboard."

"The look on your face when you hit that chilly water." Nick slapped his thigh. "Priceless."

"Here's the first place I wanted to show you." Greg whipped the golf cart to the side of the road. "This is the scout camp I went to every summer." Parking the cart, he jumped out. "Even after all these years, it looks almost the same." His eyes took it all in as memories swamped him.

"Did you like comin' here?" Nick asked from the passenger seat, noting the excitement in his partner's voice.

"Like it? Are you kidding me? Coming here was the best part of the whole year, because we came here for the Father-Son weekend, which meant my mom couldn't go with us. No smothering mother for three whole days, just me and my dad. It was Nirvana, but with mosquitoes and no indoor plumbing."

"My dad used to take my brother and me campin' every summer. We'd go away for four days, just the guys. After livin' with five older sisters, I was happy for the reprieve even if…"

When Nick stopped talking and glanced away, Greg returned to the cart. "Even if what? What's wrong?"

Staring pensively ahead, the son of a Texas hardass replied, "The point of those campin' trips was to make real men out of me and my brother, you know, to toughen us up. My dad was in the military and he loved givin' us a taste of Boot Camp. We had to rough it and sometimes the shit he had us do was brutal. It probably wasn't like that with you and Dave, huh? You guys probably made smores, told campfire stories and had all sorts of fun together."

Feeling sorry for his best friend, Greg quietly replied, "Yeah."

"We ate what we hunted and sat around the fire listenin' to my dad's gory Korean War stories. At home we were expected to be gentlemen, but during those outings, we could drop our manners. We were allowed to cuss, and my dad and brother loved to make off-color jokes, including queer ones. If I struggled to finish a task, they'd call me a faggot and threaten to legally change my name to Nancy instead of Nicky. I….I remember sometimes bein' in my tent at night prayin' they wouldn't be able to read my mind and know that I had thought about boys." Shaking his head, he remarked in a choppy voice, "What will Judge Stokes say if he finds out that in spite of all his efforts to toughen me up and make me a real man, he failed?"

"He failed?" Stunned by the self-deprecating statement, Greg snapped, "Are you serious? You were buried alive in a coffin with a loaded pistol and lived to tell the tale. That's not exactly wimpy behavior, my friend. If your brother and father ever give you crap, I'd point that out to them, ask them if they would have made it in the same situation. Warrick's already told you he would have blown his head off if he had been in your shoes. Lots of cops have said the same thing to you, and they mean it. I'd like to think I wouldn't have pulled the trigger, but I really doubt I would have been able to tough it out like you. Talk is cheap, your brother can say he's a tough guy, but you've got irrefutable proof that you are, and who you kiss before you go to bed at night will never take that away. If your family tells you it does, it's out of ignorance, and I'd like to think you're a smart enough guy to know that just because something's said out loud, doesn't make it true." After a quick breath he said, "As far as real men go, they don't get realer than you."

Turning his gaze to the person he was falling harder for every minute, Nick parroted the words spoken to him earlier, "That is without a doubt, the coolest thing anyone's ever said to me."

Bursting into a smile, Greg said, "I'll take a raincheck on that kiss you're dying to give me."

It was true, Nick couldn't deny it. He wanted to pull his buddy close and kiss him until they ran out of air. "Damn." He grinned from ear to ear, elated that he was finally falling in love with someone after so many lonely years. "I grew up listenin' to my sisters go all boy crazy and I remember my brother actin' like a huge dope over girls, especially the one he ended up marryin'. I watched all of them, but never felt what they were feelin', never felt the rush that made them say and do the stupidest things…but I am now, with you, and I'm lovin' every minute of it even though half the time I sound sappy as hell and feel like an idiot."

"Don't feel bad, I'm so ga-ga I'm hearing birds chirping a sunny tune as I stare into your dreamy brown eyes." Unable to keep a straight face, Greg laughed and pointed up. "It could be because we're parked under a tree full of sparrows, but I prefer to think it's love, of the true variety."

"There's that feelin' again," the lovestuck Texan confessed through a thousand watt smile.

"Two rainchecks!"

"Look at you…with your goofy grin and your hair all mussed from the island breeze." Nick let his eyes wander. "Wearin' one of your crazy-ass t-shirts, a ripped up pair of faded jeans, and those silly bowlin' shoes you love."

"Your point?" Greg queried as he watched his reluctant partner grow more comfortable with his sexuality.

"My point is…you're cute as hell." Nick immediately broke eye contact. "That's the first time I've said that out loud, but I've been thinkin' it for years. I guess I just made some more progress, huh?"

"You really think I'm adorkable?"

"Ha!" His awkwardness surprisingly fleeting, Nick returned his gaze. "Yeah, you're god damn adorkable, G." His curiosity getting the best of him, he prodded, "So, um…what do you think about me?" He immediately regretted asking. "On second thought, don't answer that."

Sliding close, Greg spoke directly in his curious boyfriend's ear, "I think you're sex on a stick, cowboy." With his lips brushing against Nick's earlobe, he added, "That's the first time I've said that out loud, but I've been thinking it since the day we met."

While clearing his throat, Nick pulled his ball cap lower. "Damn, the last time I wanted anything this badly, I was a week away from my seventh birthday lookin' in a bike shop window." He smacked his lips, hoping he could taste their last smooch and pacify his craving. Just days earlier, he was too terrified to admit he was attracted to men and now he was counting the seconds until he could consume his best friend's mouth with a passionate kiss.

"For me, you're like the Chemistry Set I wanted when I was eight." Driving up Avalon Canyon Road as fast as the law would allow, Greg snickered, "And just like when my dad took me to the store and bought me that Chem Set, I can't wait to take you home and do some experimenting; creating a little friction followed by some spontaneous combustion to be exact."

"Okay, we're officially changing the subject ASAP." After a hardy laugh, Nick sobered, "Hey, G…for the record, I believe Warrick and the other guys when they say they would have put a bullet in their head, but not you."

"Seriously? You think I'm that tough?"

"No," Nick sweetly laughed. "I think Jan's that tough. I think you would have thought of your mommy and been unable to pull the trigger, because if you were found shot to death before you really woulda died, you knew she'd track you down in the afterlife and bitch at you for eternity."

"I think you're probably right." Breathing in a dose of Catalina air, Greg sighed, "God, it feels good to be in a Jan-free zone."

---

"Sara!" Jan Sanders called out when she saw her son's co-worker walking on the hotel path. "How are you this afternoon, dear?"

Surprised and disappointed to see the woman who had driven her insane the previous night, Sara stammered, "I'm…uh…Greg left this morning, didn't he? Why are you still here?" Realizing that sounded harsh, she backpedaled, "I'm sorry, what I mean is, I assumed you were here for Greg, so…"

"If anyone should be saying I'm sorry, it's me, Sweetie." Jan placed her palm on the St. John's Knit powder pink twinset covering her heart and said, "My husband told me that I made everyone dreadfully uncomfortable at dinner last night. Please know I didn't mean to, I just can't help myself. I'm a hopeful romantic who loves talking about marriage and family. It was exciting to be around two wonderful couples so freshly in love. I got carried away. David banned me from seeing the boys off this morning, so Nick wouldn't be subjected to me. I hope you'll forgive me, honey, I truly don't mean any harm."

"Don't worry about it." Sara smiled to assure the woman. "I'm a little too sensitive when it comes to marriage and family."

"Rightly so, dear." Jan empathetically said, "Greg told me about your horrific childhood. I can easily see how growing up in a situation like that would make you doubt yourself when it comes to marriage and motherhood. Poor Jenni, she'll have the same issues, I'm sure of it."

"No, I think she'll be spared thanks to you and your husband taking her in. If I had that kind of stability instead of being bounced around in the foster care system, I don't think I'd have as many trust issues as I do. I wouldn't have gone off to college without an adult to lean on either. It was really hard on me, because I didn't have anyone to call or come home to when things got tough." Sara smiled wider. "Jenni will have that because of you, and she'll have Greg as a big brother too. I'm sure she'll do much better than me."

"Thank you, honey." Jan breathed a little easier on Jenni's behalf. "That makes me feel even better about our decision to take her in."

"Great." In her gut, Sara knew she should make her escape while the conversation was on an upswing.

"As a foster child, how do you feel about adoption?" Jan prodded, "Does your trauma ever make you want to provide a home for a child who is hurting for a loving situation? Is that something you and Gil would ever consider?" When she saw the young woman bristle, the meddlesome mother shook her head. "There I go again, forgive me for being so forward." She covered her faux pas with a joke, "Having a gay son has me thinking about adoption a lot lately, sorry."

"I think it's great that you're being so supportive of Greg," Sara said, hoping to change the subject. "I worked in San Francisco with a lot of gay men whose parents shut them out after learning the truth, and some guys were too afraid to come out to them at all. I had one co-worker, he was forty-two and still hiding from his father, going as far as bringing women to family parties to keep up the ruse and never celebrating Christmas with his significant other. Greg's a lucky guy."

"He certainly is," Jan snickered, "Nicky's a stud. That body of his is solid muscle, and when I think of how tough he had to be to survive being buried…he's a real man alright, an incredible hunk. Mmm, and his movie star smile makes me melt like butter on a hot ear of corn." She fanned herself. "Do you think I'm twisted for finding my son's boyfriend attractive?"

"No comment." After laughing with the giddy mother, Sara informed her, "Nick gives off a tough guy vibe, but truthfully he's an old fashioned guy, a romantic, and a big teddy bear."

---

"Howdy, ma'am." Nick tipped his baseball cap at the sweet grey-haired woman sitting in the admissions booth of the Wrigley Memorial Gardens.

"I didn't think we'd get anymore visitors today," Martha, the kindly sixty-four year old Conservancy volunteer remarked when she saw two nice looking young men approaching the window. "It's clouding up and no one has been by for at least an hour now."

"We're from Vegas," Nick explained, "cloudy and rainy weather's a treat for us, because we rarely get it."

"Sounds more like Texas than Vegas to me," she replied, soaking in the handsome man's good 'ol boy looks. "Plus you're wearing an A&M hat."

"Dallas born and raised, but haven't lived there for about ten years now."

Greg remained quiet so the sweet senior citizen could flirt with his man.

"My sister lives in Henderson, Nevada, I hate visiting her, because it's so god-awful dry there." Handing over a trail map, Martha said, "It'll be five dollars each."

Nick quickly handed over a ten.

"Are you here on vacation?"

"Yeah, my buddy Greg here, he used to come to Catalina every year with his parents and he wanted to show me around the island." Dropping his voice a couple of octaves, he said, "We were in Long Beach for a Forensics conference." He didn't want the woman to think they were a gay couple. "We work together for the Las Vegas Police Department."

Martha lit up. "Ooh, like those people on TV who solve crimes with all the fancy gadgets?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"How exciting."

"Trust me, they make it look much better on TV than it really is."

"Does your shaggy-haired friend ever say anything?" Martha smiled at the younger man who reminder her of her grandson.

Nick cracked a huge grin. "Honestly, this is the quietest he's been in years."

"Hi." Greg waved at the woman checking out his boyfriend's ass.

"You two enjoy your visit." Peering out her booth, Martha said, "Keep an eye on the clouds, Tex."

"Yes, ma'am." Nick tipped his cap again.

Greg led the way through the turnstile and down the dirt path. "You haven't lost your touch with the ladies, Romeo."

"Yeah." Nick adjusted his ball cap. "I think Grandma checked out my ass as I walked away."

"She did," Greg confirmed while taking an ogle for himself. "But who can blame granny when it's so check-out-able." Needling his mate, he said, "I really liked how you told her in a very manly tone that we were LVPD co-workers attending a conference. I was waiting for you to yell out 'we're not gay!"

"Shut up." Nick gave his buddy a shove. "I just feel like people are gonna think it by seein' us together."

"Why?" Greg grabbed the worried man's hand. "Because we're so into each other?"

"What's with the hand holding, G?"

"Guys hold hands."

"Yeah, but we said no PDAs, remember?"

"You heard her, there's no one else here." Greg motioned to the desolate surroundings. "It's a huge canyon lined with big trees leading up to a stone monument in the middle of nowhere. Okay, okay." He relented and ended the hand hold. "It's really okay to chill out here. We're alone."

"Cut me some slack, okay? I just got used to touchin' you behind closed doors." Trying to get over his paranoia, Nick anxiously glanced around and when he only saw trees, plants and animals, he relaxed a bit and moved to walk side-by-side. "It's really beautiful here. Thanks for bringing me." While soaking up the canyon scenery, he filled his lungs with fresh air. "It's peaceful too."

"This place was Wrigley's wife's idea." Greg pointed to the cactus garden coming up. "She had that garden built, and the whole place took off from there." Next, he pointed to the monument looming in the distance. "They built that as a memorial to William Wrigley Jr. They worshipped him, because he developed the island, bringing utilities and putting up hotels and commissioning the famous casino building I showed you on the way in."

"Wrigley like the gum?"

"Yep. When we get to the top and look out through the pillars, you'll see the whole island. That's an amazing tribute for a guy, don't you think?"

"Hell, yeah." Staring at the massive structure, Nick sighed, "Most people are lucky if they get a small tombstone and anyone to remember they were alive a week after they pass."

Greg playfully bumped into his suddenly sullen man, "Don't worry, Cletus, I'll never forget you."

Nick playfully returned the bump. "It was like you read my mind just now."

"I did." Greg beamed a smile and pointed to the tree branches above him. "There are those pesky birds singing a happy tune again."

Seeing a tree with a large trunk off to the left, Nick grabbed his buddy by the elbow and yanked him off the trail.

"What are you…" A few seconds later when his back was pressed to bark and Nick was passionately plundering his mouth, he had his answer. The anticipation had finally driven his reluctant lover into action.

"Sorry," Nick panted when he abruptly ended the kiss.

"For what?" Greg stroked his partner's cheek with his palm. "Sorry for giving me the most exhilarating kiss of my life? Not that the ones before this one let me down in any way, but that one...maybe it's because we're outside…or that I didn't see it coming." He exploded into a smile. "Maybe we should do it again so I can pinpoint why."

"I do owe two more." Nick breathed out while their noses and foreheads gently bumped.

Nipping at the lips poised in front of him, Greg teased, "You know what Suze Orman would say…debt is the root of all evil, and should you incur some, it's best to pay it off quickly." When he felt Nick's hand dip under his t-shirt, he gasped.

"Are my hands cold?" Nick whispered while gliding a hand up a man's shirt for the first time. He was kicking himself for giving into his jitters and leaving the Freyja instead of spending a lazy afternoon in the stateroom bed like his id had wanted to.

"No, your hands aren't cold," Greg answered after a second hand grazed his skin and provoked another, louder gasp. "It just feels that good." He proved his statement by running his hands under the back of his now eager partner's tee. "Doesn't it?"

"MmmHmm." Inspired by the loving words he had been hearing all afternoon, Nick initiated a velvety kiss. "Fantastic." Every clash with Greg's tongue fueled the fire within him, making him less reluctant and pushing him to do things he had only imagined. "This is the wrong place."

"Yeah." When Greg felt two strong hands sliding into the back pockets of his True Religion jeans, he rasped, "That's the right place."

"Shit," Nick breathed out.

"Something wrong?"

"No, that's the problem." His hands cupping Greg's ass, Nick threw his whole body into the next kiss. "Okay, okay, that's it." he jumped back wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Any more heat and we'll start a friggin' brush fire."

"Yeah, and to think you freaked when I held your hand five minutes ago." Greg peeled his body from the tree, wondering if the bark pattern was embedded in his flesh. "Wow, it's waymore fun being here with you than it was with the 'rents."

"I bet." After adjusting his t-shirt and picking up his ball cap from the ground, Nick winked. "First one to the top buys dinner before we head back to the boat."

Greg pointed to his hips. "How the hell am I supposed to run when my blood flow has been diverted to my crotch?"

"Then I guess we know who's gonna win the race." Nick backed off grinning.

"Like there was ever any doubt!" The non-athlete took a cleansing breath, adjusted himself and stepped onto the trail. "I can't believe my boyfriend's a jock."

"Well, I can't believe my boyfriend's a geek…or that I even have a boyfriend."

Greg boldly walked up to the ex-running back, stunned him with a quick, lusty kiss, and then said in a panic, "Shit! There are people at the base of the trail. They just saw us kiss and they're freaking out!" He frantically pointed. "Over there!"

"What?" Nick whirled around. "Where?" His heart hammering in his chest, he searched for the people. "G, I don't see anybody." He imagined they had already run to the Admissions Booth to report homosexuals acting indecently on the property. He imagined being hauled in for lewd and lascivious conduct and smearing his family's good name in the mud. "How many were there? Did any kids see us? Shit." He turned back. "Did you…" When he saw his geek boyfriend already on the stairs up to the monument, he knew he'd been tricked. "You little shit!"

"Brain over brawn, baby!" Running up the stairs like Rocky Balboa, Greg shouted, "Geeks rule!"

---

"Professor Grissom." Sara lifted her wine glass and teased her man, "Should I be worried about your groupies?" He had surprised her with dinner at a fondue restaurant.

"Fear not." He tapped his glass to hers. "You will always be the teacher's pet."

"Speaking of pets, have you given any more thought to what kind of undividable dog you might like?"

Swirling a carrot in the fondue pot full of fragrant cheese, he shared, "I've always felt partial to boxers, but it really depends what we find when we visit the shelters."

"True." Spearing a bread cube with her fondue fork, Sara said, "I talked to Hodges earlier."

"By choice?"

"I had given him a bunch of stuff to process before leaving town and I wanted to follow up. He told me that Ecklie is boldly flirting with one of the Relief Team members, Marsha Harrison."

"She's at least ten years younger than Conrad."

"What a perv." Sara hid her smirk behind her wine glass.

When Belinda, the bubbly twenty-two year old server bounded up to the table, she cheerily asked, "Hey, I see you're out of carrots, would you like some more for your dip tray?"

Gil looked to his date and when she nodded, he replied, "Yes, please."

"Oops!" The waitress pointed to the woman in the booth. "You dropped your bread cube in the pot, you know what that means."

"Uh." Sara looked to Gil, who appeared equally clueless. "Actually, no, I don't know."

"You have to kiss your date. A big juicy wet one to be exact."

Sara politely informed the girl, "I don't think so."

Gil choked on his wine.

"No, it's true," Belinda assured the fondue rookie. "It's a universal fondue rule. Google it when you get home, you'll see." Belinda suddenly realized her faux pas. "OH! Duh! He's not your date, he's like your uncle or professor or something. I'm really sorry for grossing you out by saying you should kiss an old grey-hair. I'll go get those carrots!"

"Miss!" Gil stopped the teeny-bopper and held up their near-empty bottle of wine. "We'll need some more Pinot too. Lots of it."

---

Sitting outside at a candlelit picnic table overlooking the bay, Greg cracked open The Seafood Shack's menu with finesse. "Let's see what you're going to buy me for dinner, jocko." Peering over the menu he snickered, "I worked up a big appetite exploring the island today. I'm thinking four courses, maybe five."

"Knock yourself out, smart ass." Nick raised his amber bottle of Catalina Red Ale. "And order all the beer you can drink."

"Don't mind if I do." They had just received their second round in the bar when they were taken to their table on the patio of the casual seafood restaurant. "I like this local brew, what about you?"

Nick polished off his bottle and then answered, "Like so many other new things in my life, it's even better than I imagined it would be and I can't wait to have more of it."

"On second thought, let's just get appetizers to go," Greg snapped his fingers. "Waiter!"

The waiter hurried over plucking a pen from behind his ear. "My name's Tanner, I'll be your server. Sorry, I saw your menu was open, so I thought you guys weren't ready."

Greg couldn't stop the words from rolling off his tongue, "No, we are most definitely ready. Aren't we, cowboy?"

Nick covered his dastardly smirk with a beer bottle.

"Special occasion?" Tanner asked when he saw the happiness between the couple. "Anniversary maybe? Or are you newlyweds?"

Nick gulped, stunned by the assumption made. "What the hell makes you think we're a couple?" he huffed.

"Relax, Cletus." Greg calmed down his alpha male, "Tanner here belongs to the club. I saw him kissing a guy behind the restaurant when we were walking towards the place."

The waiter broke into a giddy smile, "Not just a guy; my boyfriend of two glorious weeks."

"We're on our first vacation together," Greg cheerily answered, happy to have someone to tell. "We're on the down low back home, so we're a little jumpy."

"Sorry," Nick apologized, getting that Twilight Zone feeling again. "While I've technically been a lifetime member of the club, I've only recently become active, for lack of a better term." He winked when he saw his buddy nod approvingly. "Yeah, I thought you'd like that, honey."

"There's not much of a scene on the island," Tanner informed the visitors. "The locals won't hassle you, but every once in a while you get shit from tourists, so just be aware of who you're around. Daffy's is the only bar in town, so you'll see a bit of everything there, the mix fluctuates depending on who's on the island. If you're into hardcore leather, you're out of luck, but if you like to shoot pool, they have a decent room with six tables, and they have a karaoke lounge. The shot boy who dances in his underwear on the bar is a friend of mine, if you tell him Tanner sent you, he'll treat you well."

Nick wondered if that was code for something nasty.

"Thanks," Greg smiled at the helpful waiter, "We're here until Saturday, so maybe we'll check it out later in the week." He couldn't resist trying their couple status on for size. "I'm Greg by the way, and this is my boyfriend, Nick."

"Howdy," Nick smiled while panicking on the inside.

"How long have you two been together?"

Nick fielded the question before Greg had a chance, "Seven years as great friends. Livin' together is new for us though." Brazenly taking his partner's hand in front of the waiter, he squeezed it and said, "But we're lovin' every minute of it, right, G?"

Too stunned by the gesture to speak, Greg just grinned and nodded.

"Aww, that's great. So, what can I get you two lovebirds?"

When Nick saw an elderly man at the next table pointing at them while telling, presumably his wife, 'we're sitting next to queers' his smile faded. "Courage is what I could use, Tanner." Releasing Greg's hand he waved his empty beer bottle. "Lots of it."

---

"Dinner was great," Sara announced as she slipped into bed with her man.

"Yes, the fondue with the side order of humiliation was delicious." He tossed his reading glasses on the nightstand and flicked off the light. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to bed, because at my age, I need all the rest I can get."

"Would you stop!" Sara gave him a shove. "I was wearing the Cal State Long Beach college sweatshirt I had just bought. That's why she thought I was so much younger than you."

Maybe I should start dying my hair again. "I don't think that was the only factor."

Feeling bad for him, Sara snuggled close. "You know that opportunity I missed out on this morning?" Nipping at his ear lobe, she purred, "I'd like to cash in that raincheck you gave me."

Gil's troubles instantly faded. "Really?"

"MmmHmm." She swirled her fingertips over his bare chest. "Just close your eyes and relax."

He did as directed, settling in against the pillows and waiting with baited breath.

Sara deftly rid her grateful man of his boxers.

"Ah!" he grimaced from the chill of her icy hand. "I wasn't expecting the chill."

"Sorry." She rubbed both of her hands together to warm them. "Better?"

"Mmm." He closed his eyes once more. "Much, much…ow!"

"What?"

"You have a sharp nail," he blurted, still smarting from the lethal scratch.

"Sorry." She glanced down at her hand and when she saw the offending sharp edge, she nibbled it off. "Problem solved." Nuzzling up close, she joked, "Take three."

Gil closed his eyes once more and breathed deep. "That's nice."

"Good."

Like every other time, Gil considered giving a few suggestions to his lover, but he chickened out. It wasn't that she did it wrong per se, it was a noble effort indeed, but there were a couple of things that he enjoyed that she never did. He felt ridiculous for not being able to verbalize his desires, but not surprised since he had trouble communicating with her about everything else.

"What?" Sara whispered when she heard what she thought was a yelp. "Did that hurt?"

"No, no, that was a moan of pleasure," he lied. She had done that tug-thing she did every time around the four minute mark. He hated it, but he didn't want to make her feel bad. "That's nice," he murmured, making sure she didn't suspect anything.

After a stealthy glance of the clock, Sara picked up the pace.

She looked at the clock! He hated when she did that. It made him think she was bored and counting the seconds until the torture ended.

"Mmm, how much longer?" she rasped, hoping she sounded like she'd be disappointed if he said soon.

I knew it, she's counting the seconds. "Soon," he lied, feeling further away than when they'd started. I love so many things about her, but this isn't one of them, he sadly confessed to himself. Closing his eyes, he had to default to the last resort…fantasizing. Sorry, honey.

A few minutes later when the deed was done and his significant other was running to the bathroom like she had come in contact with live Ebola virus, Gil grabbed a few Kleenex from the nightstand. I'm too sleepy to get up and throw these tissues away, but if I toss them at the can and miss, she'll kill me.

When Sara returned from washing her hands twice, she found her man asleep holding a wad of used Kleenex. You're cute even when you're gross. Returning to bed hyper and lonely, she clicked on her nightstand lamp and grabbed her private journal from her suitcase. After a quick kiss to her slumbering man's cheek, she relaxed against the pillows and readied her pen. "Night."

---

After paying the harbor water taxi, the guys boarded the Freyja.

"Careful!" the driver warned when he saw the men teetering on the deck as he motored away.

They were both off balance from the rocking boat and the beer they had consumed.

"See, good thing you listened to me and took that Bonine this morning," Greg remarked. "With the storm rolling in, the water's getting really choppy. You'd be puking your steak dinner all night." Prone to motion-sickness, he always used medication, but Nick had initially pulled the tough guy 'I never get sick' routine.

"Yeah, you were definitely right. Hey, does that stuff make alcohol hit you harder?" Nick queried while Greg unlocked the cabin. "I usually don't feel this buzzed after only six beers."

"A little maybe." After following Nick down below and flicking on a light, Greg locked up for the night. "Home sweet home."

"Want another drink?" Nick asked from his position in front of the fridge. "Wow, the rain's already here. We literally just made it back."

"I'll have one more, yeah."

Losing his balance, Nick grabbed onto the wall. "Holy shit, this boat is really movin'." The water taxi driver had told them to expect lightning and thunder along with a few hours of rain. "Here."

"Thanks." Greg clasped the beer with one hand, and then lunged for his buddy with his other. "I didn't want to fall," he explained as the first flash of lightning ripped through the night sky.

"And here I thought you wanted me badly." Tossing back his head, Nick took a gulp of Amstel and listened to the thunder rolling overhead.

"I do…badly," Greg assured after taking a swig. "But we can't take a shower during a lightning storm, it's dangerous." He took another sip without breaking eye contact.

"It would be hard when the boat's rockin' this much anyway." Their bodies were slammed against one another for more than safety reasons. "I can barely stand."

"Maybe it would be best to get off our feet." Greg tugged on one of Nick's belt loops. "Hmm?"

"Yeah." After another huge gulp of Amstel, Nick collected their half-full bottles and put them in the sink. "Figured they'd fall if we set 'em down."

"Definitely."

With his hands on Greg's hips, Nick carefully walked him backwards down the narrow hall. "Did you have a good time with your boyfriend today? Did he treat you right?"

"He always does." The steady gaze of Nick's chocolate brown eyes had Greg reeling before they even exchanged their first kiss. "Thanks for dinner, it was great."

"So, you liked your shrimp then, honey?" Nick teased.

Greg snickered at the term of endearment that the Texan claimed to use as a joke; because it was becoming quite obvious that he secretly enjoyed it. "Yeah, I liked the shrimp, but I loved the company." The stateroom was dark except for the tiny emergency lights near the floor and the flicker of lightning coming through the skylight.

"You're shaking," Nick remarked in surprise. "Are you…" His mouth curved into a smile. "You're worried I'm gonna make you to put out since I bought dinner."

"Yeah," Greg answered before breaking into a goofy laugh. "But worried isn't the right word. I'm 'understandably anxious' from the thought of partaking in something new and exciting…especially since I'll be the one taking it." His nervous laughter filled the room again. "But I'm not worried, because I'll be with you."

Circling his arms around his partner's waist, Nick whispered, "I'm a lot more comfortable than I was this mornin' in the shower, but I'm not there yet, and for the record, I have standards for my 'first time dinner'. I'll take ya to a nice restaurant with cloth napkins and the place won't have 'shack', 'pub' or 'diner' in its name."

"Thanks for the hints. I keep my eyes peeled for the signs." The half relieved, half disappointed man snatched a kiss. "Wanna watch a movie to get comfortable? My mom is a DVD junkie, so there's a lot to choose from."

"Yeah, how about you pick the flick, I'll turn down the bed."

"Okay." Swaying as he walked, Greg said, "With the storm, it's a good night for a thriller."

"I was thinkin' the same thing," Nick said, hoping his voice didn't sound as shaky as he felt.

"Poltergeist?" Considering how hot they had been for each other all day, he doubted they'd make it past the opening credits.

"Man, I haven't seen that since I was in high school. Yeah." Nick kicked off his shoes and sat on the edge of the bed to pull off his socks.

After starting the movie, Greg followed his partner's lead, removing everything but his t-shirt and boxer briefs before sliding onto the sheets.

"C'mere." Nick rested against the pile of pillows he had made. When his open arms were immediately occupied, he contentedly sighed, "I can't believe I was worried about sharin' a bed with you last night. That feels like a lifetime ago. After the great day we had, I can't imagine a place I'd rather be."

"You have no idea how psyched I am to hear you say that." Nuzzling closer, Greg vulnerably asked, "Hey…did you really like my island tour replete with geeky factoids, or were you just humoring me?"

"No, I loved it. Every vacation I took as a kid had to have historical value, which means I'm used to a runnin' commentary. I felt right at home." Breathing deep, Nick said with a chuckle, "But you're a hell of a lot more fun to listen to than my crusty old man…and you didn't quiz me over dinner, he always did that on every trip. We all dreaded it, 'cause if you got a question wrong, you didn't get dessert."

"Seriously? On family vacation?" He braced for another scary Stokes family revelation.

"I shit you not." Nick sighed while mindlessly stroking Greg's arm with his fingertips, "One time, during a trip to Historical Williamsburg, Virginia, I missed my Revolutionary War question. I had to sit in Friendly's watchin' my brother and sisters eat Reese's Peanut Butter Cup Sundaes while I sipped ice water. Friendly's is an East Coast ice cream place that we didn't have in Texas, it was a huge deal when we got to go there."

"Did you cry?" Greg asked, knowing the experience would have reduced him to a sobbing mess as a child.

"Fuck no." Nick chortled. "Aside from gettin' the 'real boys don't cry lecture' from the Judge, my brother would have ripped me about it for the rest of the trip and then some. Nope, I sipped my ice water like a real man."

"How old were you?"

"Eight."

"Eight?"

Abruptly changing the subject, Nick said, "Look, the previews are over and the movie's startin'."

Sensing a nerve had been hit, Greg didn't pry further. "This movie scared the shit out of me when I was a kid." Closing his eyes, he savored the strength of the embrace around him and the steady pace of the fingertips stroking his forearm. "But when I saw it a couple of years ago, it seemed funny, not scary and I couldn't believe I had ever been terrified of it."

"Funny how that happens, huh? How things that used to scare you don't after you understand that nothin' bad is really gonna happen to you. Like how I was scared to kiss you for the first time, but now I…" His words were cut off when Greg turned and silenced him with a needy kiss.

"I thought you might be ready to cash in your raincheck from this morning." With baited breath, Greg waited for an affirmative answer.

Nick replied by pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it across the room. "Did you check all the compartments and verify that Jan didn't sneak on board?"

"Yeah." The son of a meddlesome mother happily reported, "I checked twice just to be sure." Relaxed from the booze, he shed his shirt and crashed back onto the mattress. "It's just you and me, cowboy. The Freyja is our little slice of Brokeback heaven." He did his best Wyoming rodeo boy impression, "And it ain't nobody's business what goes on here, it's just between you and me...unless my mommy has hidden cameras in the room." When he saw the paranoid man glance around he burst into a belly laugh. "Oh, come on, even Jan wouldn't go that far." He hoped.

The alcohol in his veins providing the right amount of liquid courage, Nick swirled his fingertips over his buddy's chest and laughed along with him, "Let's keep all the action under the covers just in case."

"Action, huh? I like the sound of that." Trying to shake his nerves, Greg joked, "Mmm, I know what you're thinking as you run your hand over my bodybuilder's chest. You're wondering how I was able to hide my massive pecs and perfect six-pack under t-shirts all these years. Oh wait, this is reality, not one of my fantasies, and I'm not really chiseled to perfection. For the record, you're just as impressive in real life as you were in my dreams."

"Mmm, are you a talker in the sack, G?"

"Not really, it's the beer and the anticipation making me overtalk." Wrapping a hand around his lover's neck, Greg urged him close. "I know a great way to shut me up though."

Nick gladly obliged, merging their moist, parted lips in a slow, sensual kiss that ignited their bodies and eradicated their jitters. "I couldn't wait to get back here," he confessed while setting off to boldly explore his future lover's chest with his mouth. Much to his surprise, he not only felt comfortable, but eager to pleasure a man.

Writhing from the feel of firm, wet kisses against his flesh, Greg wandered a hand over his partner's muscular back. "That feels incredible," he excitedly admitted as Nick nipped and licked all the right places. "It's been so long."

Knowing his moves were appreciated, Nick blanketed the affection-starved body sharing his bed and turned up the heat. "I believe this is where we left off this mornin'." Gripping Greg's wrists, he pinned them to the mattress.

A grateful moan filled the stateroom.

"Yeah, I knew you'd like that." Nick did too. He liked everything; it felt undeniably exhilarating to be on top of man, their exposed flesh meeting in a desperate horizontal dance while they exchanged increasingly aggressive kisses. He was grateful for the absence of breasts and curves beneath him, for the musky masculine smell in the air versus the stench of flowery perfume, but above all he loved the sensation of their identically aroused parts sporadically bumping during their frantic grind. It was wonderfully right, like coming home after being in the wrong place for far too long.

Loving every inch of the rock hard body on top of him and the forceful grip on his wrists, Greg warned in between choppy breaths, "I'm getting…really heated…really fast."

Nick rocked their bodies until they were on their sides facing each other with a foot between them. "You're not the only one," he breathlessly replied. The rain was pelting the boat now and the flashes and thunder were steadily increasing. Remembering the recent conversation he had with Catherine, regarding her renewed love of heavy petting in lieu of sex, Nick whispered, "Just hands, okay?" before discarding his boxer briefs.

Afraid that his partner had been getting cold feet, the words were music to Greg's ears. "Just hands," he parroted while tossing his shorts. "It's okay to look," he teased, knowing the guy had restrained himself in the shower that morning.

"Yeah, I'm drunk enough, why not." Grinning, Nick let his curious eyes wander. "Your parents had you snipped too, huh?"

"Jan told me that my dad wanted me to match him. I thought about suing, but they did everything else right, so..." Even in semi-darkness Greg could see his boyfriend blushing. "Speaking of perfect matches, we're like practically bookends, doncha think?"

Relieved to discover Greg had been a shower not a grower, Nick laughed, "We'd need a ruler to be sure, but it looks damn close, yeah."

Feeling the nervous tension returning, Greg slid closer. "I guarantee you'll be successful, probably in two minutes flat." Realizing another push was needed, he gently guided Nick's hand to the right spot. "Just think of what you like and do it to me." Thrilled by the knowledge that it was his edgy partner's first time, the initial touch was phenomenally more intense than any previous experiences. "Perfect," he moaned, wanting to leave no doubt in the novice's mind that he was off to a great start. Truthfully, it had been so long since he had been with anyone, other than ripping it off, he couldn't possibly go wrong.

When Nick saw Greg's eyes clamp from the pleasure and felt his labored breathing against his mouth, he wanted to experience the same rush he was giving. Do it! A clap of thunder startled him right as he gripped Greg's wrist. He gasped, expecting a bolt to strike him dead for participating in the carnal act, but when nothing happened, he forged on, successfully placing another man's hand on the most private part of his body for the first time. "God!" he ironically exclaimed, as he secured his place in hell. The masculine touch was a huge departure from a woman's weak, uncertain moves. There were no uncomfortable tugs, tentative strokes, or accidental scratches from long fingernails. No silly questions, no wondering 'how much longer', just focused, expert handling with unbridled enthusiasm for the task at hand. It was like Greg had a roadmap to his body and knew every shortcut even though it was his first trip. He hoped the feeling was mutual, but was too consumed by his own enjoyment to ask for feedback or care.

Their desire and skills equally matched, it didn't take long for the two men to reach a shared crescendo that left them clinging to each other gasping for air.

Remembering Nick's minor post-ecstasy freak out in the shower that morning, Greg quickly fumbled for his t-shirt. "Here." He placed it in his panting partner's trembling hands and then hurried off to the bathroom to give him a couple of minutes and a little space just like he had needed that morning.

Staring at the t-shirt, which he knew was one of his buddy's favorites, Nick recalled Catherine's words 'A few minutes later we'd be panting in each other's faces, sweaty from the rush of our bodies going over the edge in perfect harmony. If a guy handed me his t-shirt to clean my hand, I went out with him again, if not…he became my ex-boyfriend.' Remembering there were towels in the drawer, he decided to spare the shirt. Yep, my boyfriend's a keeper. Upon opening the drawer his eyes widened to saucers. Jan really had done some shopping. After cleaning up with a towel and some vanilla-scented hand sanitizer, he pulled on his boxer briefs.

"Cletus..." Greg called out as he retrieved his underwear from the floor.

"Yeah?" Nick returned to bed, sprawling out comfortably.

"Are you okay?"

A smile cresting over his lips, Nick put all fears to rest. "Couldn't be better. Now get your ass back in bed, we have a movie to watch."

"Cool." Greg restarted the film and then padded over scratching his head and yawning.

"Hey, I'd avoid your side of the bed if I were you."

"Now it's my side. Nice." Greg pointed to the linen closet. "My mom has ten sets of sheets, so I'll…"

"Don't." Nick winked. "The night's young and those ten pair have to last five days."

"Wow, really? I'm kinda beat from..."

"Just kiddin', c'mere." Nick yanked his partner onto the mattress and spooned their bodies. "I haven't actually fallen asleep spooning someone in years."

"I'm honored." Greg sighed, "I think we set the bar pretty high on day one of vacation…lots of laughs…great food…red hot action." He chuckled, "I don't know about you, but I'm looking forward to trying to top it tomorrow."

Nick deadpanned his reply, "I thought we agreed I'm the top?" After a shared laugh, he whispered in his buddy's ear, "You really know what you're doin' with your hands, my friend."

"You know what they say…practice, practice, practice. Spending most nights alone, I've had plenty of opportunity."

"Your lonely nights are over, G." Always one to nod off after release, Nick closed his eyes and enjoyed the rocking of the boat and the company. "Hell, you couldn't get rid of me now if you tried."

"Like I'd try." Greg's breathing slowed to a sleepy rhythm. "Why do you smell like vanilla?"

"Nice job, CSI Sanders. There's vanilla-scented hand sanitizer in the nightstand…among other things." Nick sighed, "Hey, where is the Gay Boy Mall anyway? Is it on Industrial or…"

"It's an online store."

"Oh."

"Why? Were you thinking of shopping there, Cletus?" Greg teased.

"Your birthday is coming up," Nick joked. After a quick kiss to the cheek, he whispered, "Goodnight."

Breathing in sync, the two men rapidly drifted.

"Perk nine," Greg murmured, "We're guys. We both get sleepy after The Big O. Night."

***

Chapter 28: Wednesday – Eggshells for Breakfast

When Gil returned to his hotel room with muffins and coffee for breakfast, he heard the shower running. "I'm back!"

"I just got in the shower!"

"They had banana nut muffins today," he told her when he reached the open bathroom door. "That's your favorite, right?"

"Yeah." Stepping under the rushing water, she wet her hair. "I'll be out in five."

"Okay." Gil was returning to the table to enjoy his coffee and read the paper when he realized he didn't have his reading glasses. Figuring he had left them on the nightstand, he hurried to get them, but on the way there, he saw what looked like a leather-bound book hidden in the sheets. His curious mind prompting him to take a closer look, he knelt on the bed to retrieve it.

It was a journal. Sara's journal, a private one apparently, since he had never seen her with it, but many of its pages were full.

I should put it back and pretend I never saw it. But his inquisitive brain overruled what was clearly the only ethical choice, and he opened to the last page before the blanks. From the date he knew it was the previous day's entry. She must have written this after I fell asleep last night.

The crunch of the eggshells we're walking on grows louder every day. Why can't he say what's really on his mind?

There are glimmers. He blew me away comparing his love for me to the Grand Canyon at sunset. I loved that. I love him. I've always loved him. Since the day we met. He knows that, and he knows I waited seven years for him. He knows all that and yet he still can't tell me how he really feels. Why?

Last night I had to listen to Jan Sanders wax on about marriage and kids while he quietly sipped his wine. How the hell are we supposed to seriously consider marriage or children when he can't even tell me what kind of hand job he likes? Teenage boys across America are communicating that information to their girlfriends without a problem, but a fifty year old man with a Ph.D. can't tell the woman he loves with all his heart? Why?

Why does he secretly reload the dishwasher after I've gone to bed instead of telling me I'm not doing it right? Why does he rearrange the throw pillows on the couch when he thinks I'm not looking? Why did he skulk off to the shower alone when he really wanted me to join him?

When Nick had been with Greg for less than a day, he had no problem telling him exactly what was on his mind. He cursed, he yelled, he threw a glass. Then Greg asked for two minutes to explain and he listened. Their lips were swollen from make-up kisses by the time they got to the lobby. No eggshells for them. They'll probably return from Catalina knowing everything about each other.

Nothing makes sense. Why was I able to get Nick to get tell me the biggest secret of his life the very first time I tried, but I can't get the man I've loved for seven years to tell me that he likes his couch pillows to rest on forty-five degree angles? Why?

"What are you doing?" Sara's voice shot through the room.

Startled, Gil dropped the journal. "Uh…"

"Leave it." Sara hurried over and took possession of her journal. "You shouldn't have."

"I know. I'm sorry." The blood draining from his face, he quietly said, "But I'm glad I did."

Sara got dressed in record time. "I need air."

Before he could summon the words to stop her, she and her book of secrets were gone.

---

"My oh my, what big, strong biceps you have, Nicky. You lifted me like I was a feather! Uh…where are you taking me?"

Mounting the stairs, Nick growled his reply, "The bedroom."

"What? You can't…no, this is wrong. Terribly wrong!" Jan breathlessly informed the naked stud as she dug her nails into his muscular back. "I can't make love with you. I'm a happily married woman, and you're my son's boyfriend. No matter how much you want me, I can't." Running her hand over his pecs, she gulped, "Well, maybe just a quickie. Oh!" She covered her mouth. "I can't believe I said that!"

"Make love?" Nick stopped dead in his tracks. "What kind of a twisted pervert are you, Jan? I was just bringin' you up to the bedroom because I couldn't find the spare sheets for the guest bed, and Greg and I have already messed up the twenty sets you left us yesterday."

"But why are you carrying me in your burly arms?"

"Duh. So we could get there quicker. I can't wait to change the sheets and use those purple butt beads ya bought us from the Gay Boy Mall." Shaking his head in disgust he berated her, "In Texas we hang perverts like you. Wait until I tell Greg his mommy wanted to do the nasty-nasty with me. You already drive him crazy; this will be the final straw."

"No! No, you can't tell him." Jan jumped out of Nick's arms, cinching her bathrobe tighter. "I was confused. I thought you were Dave."

"Then why did you call me Nicky?" the seasoned CSI quizzed. "Hmm?"

"Um…" She lowered her voice. "Would a batch of Toll House cookies make this all disappear?"

"Jan!"

"What?" the dreaming woman shouted as she bolted upright.

"Honey? What the hell is wrong with you?" Dave stood at the edge of the bed watching his wife pant. "Were you having a bad dream? You were moaning and writhing."

"Oh. Oh thank god it wasn't real." The fifty-eight year old fanned her flushed face. "Yes. A very, very bad dream." Sinfully bad! "I…I think it's these new hormone pills Dr. Goodwin put me on." Feeling horribly guilty that her subconscious sex kitten had agreed to betray her son and her husband, she wanted to hurl.

"Greg's on hold on the phone."

"What? Why?" Her pulse skyrocketed. "Is everything alright? He didn't have an accident, did he?"

"No, everything's fine." Dave held up the cordless headset. "He's just being a good son and checking in with you, because he knows you always worry about him when he has the boat."

"Aww." Tears formed in her eyes. "He's such a good boy and I'm such a bad mommy."

And I thought menopause was bad. Yeesh, this hormone replacement therapy is going to kill me. Dave warily handed over the phone. "No sex talk, do you hear me? What he's doing in the bedroom is none of your business." And Lord knows I don't want to hear you recap it for me afterwards. "Try your hardest to be a normal mother."

"I promise." She vehemently nodded as she took the phone. "Could you bring me a glass of ice water, honey?"

"Sure thing." Dave walked out of the room sighing. In the few minutes he had conversed with his boy, he could tell something was different; the deed had been done. He wished Jan hadn't told him that Greg had been saving himself for Mr. Right. Now every time he'd go in the Freyja's stateroom he'd think of it as 'the place my son bent over and took it for the first time'."Ugh." He thought of the bruise he had seen on Greg's arm and hoped that Nick had treated him right. I hope he made it special, assuming guys do that sort of thing. Greg sounded too happy to be in pain and he said he was sitting up on deck, so he couldn't be too…sore. Christ, I'll never be able to watch prison dramas again. He shivered at the thought of his only son being someone's bitch. Then he remembered the previous morning when Nick ran up the pier just to deliver Greg's favorite coffee. He's a nice guy, not an inmate named Bubba. I need to chill out.

Walking past the composite photo frames his wife had placed on the hallway wall over the years, Dave watched his boy grow up before his eyes. Seeing a picture of ten-year old Greg on their first boat, he paused. It seemed like just yesterday that he was an innocent child showing off his first catch. Where did the time go? Twenty-two years later, Greg was on the deck of the Freyja boasting about the one hundred and seventy-five pound Texan he had snagged.

"David," Jan called out when she stepped into the hallway cinching her robe. "You said you would bring me ice water."

"Yeah, I'm on my way."

"That was ten minutes ago, honey."

"Oh, um...I haven't stopped to look at these pictures in a while and must have lost track of the time." Heading for the stairs he said, "Did Greg sound happy to you?"

Taking her husband's arm, she chuckled, "What does this tell you; he ended the call by saying 'I have to go because I've heard the roaming charges from Cloud Nine are steep'."

A contented smile found Dave's lips. "Did he happen to say if Nick made him breakfast or did anything special this morning?"

"No, Nicky was still sleeping and Greg was making Nana Olaf's Stuffed French Toast to surprise him."

When he reached the bottom step, Dave huffed, "Really? Pfft. The morning after our first time I spoiled you rotten remember?"

"Is that why you asked?" Jan laughed hysterically.

"Is it so wrong that I want my kid to be appreciated? Did he make Greg buy him dinner too? Jeeeez, he's already getting everything else paid for on the trip." He shook his head. "This is what Greg gets for falling for a redneck."

"It's not the morning after, dear." She patted his arm. "I'm sure Nicky will go all out when the time comes."

"You asked him?" Dave raged, "I told you to stay out of his sex life, Jan!"

"Talk about the pot calling the kettle black! You're the one trying to find out if Gregory got a morning after omelet out of Nick."

"My reasons for prying are based on my love and concern for Greg's wellbeing, not freakish curiosity." He quietly admitted what was really bothering him, "He had a bruise on his arm that he told me was from Nick grabbing him in the heat of the moment. He explained that it was fueled by passion, not violence. He said it was normal, but that's the problem, honey…I don't know what's normal between two guys in the throes of passion. I don't know if Nick is a good catch by gay standards. I want Greg to have the best possible boyfriend, because that's what he deserves, but it's hard to feel confident when I don't know what a good gay boyfriend is or what one does. It would be easy to figure out if he was getting engaged to the right girl, because I know the qualities of a good wife, but as a heterosexual father, I'm completely in the dark about the gay lifestyle." Blowing out a breath, he said, "I don't want to know details, but I do need some kind of proof that he's being treated right, especially after finding out that he let that scumbag Jeff mentally and physically abuse him. Between that and those hoodlums beating him within an inch of his life…"

"Sweetheart…"

"No, I mean it! How many fucking times am I supposed to let my boy be another man's punching bag before I jump in and say enough is enough?" He threw his hands in the air. "Where did I go wrong with him, Jan? Why does he let people abuse him? Why doesn't he stand up for himself and fight back?"

"Please calm down."

"I'm sorry for yelling." Dave leaned against the wall to catch his breath. "I can't be the only father who's ever felt this way," he sighed. "I think my concerns are legit."

"I called the local PFLAG chapter last week and they invited us to an informational meeting tomorrow evening. They hold it monthly; it's for parents who just found out that their child is gay. They told me that existing members will be there to talk about their experiences and to answer questions. I was going to go alone the first time, because I know you hate group stuff, but now I think you should come with me. There could be a father there who has all the answers you need."

He cringed from the thought of sharing his concerns in a room full of people. "I don't know if I can do that, Jan."

"Of course you can, because you love Greg, and it's what supportive family members do."

---

Still half asleep, Nick pawed the nightstand trying to find his ringing cell phone. "H…hello?" he answered with his eyes still shut.

"Nicky! It's your favorite sister."

"Hey, Gwen," he mumbled.

"Okay, it's your second favorite sister Eileen."

"Just kiddin'," he lied. Eileen was actually his least favorite and he couldn't remember the last time she called. "Is everything okay? Are Mom and Dad alright?"

"Everythin's fine, sugar. Were you sleepin? I figured you'd be just gettin' off your shift."

"It's my day off actually." When he opened his eyes and saw that he was in the Freyja's stateroom, memories of the previous night's intensity flooded his mind. "So, um…what can I do for ya, sis?"

"I'm comin' to Vegas for a Christian Coalition Conference and I wanted to see if I could crash at your place. You're always tellin' us that you have two extra bedrooms if we're ever in town. It's just me; Trevor and the kids aren't comin'; mom's comin' here to watch 'em. I need the retreat, believe me. A bunch of people from my church are stayin' at a Comfort Inn, but I'd feel much safer stayin' with you because that Godforsaken city full of drugs and hookers scares me to death. I'll take you out to dinner for your trouble, and I promise to do your laundry and tidy up your bachelor pad for ya."

"Why is a Christian group meetin' in Sin City? Seems kinda odd."

"We want to bear witness to the depravity and when we're not meetin', we're gonna minister to those who need us the most; the gambling addicts, whores, drug abusers and homosexuals. It's what Jesus would do if he came to Vegas, doncha ya think?"

Staring at the DNA stains on the bed sheets, he anxiously replied, "Oh. I um…yeah."

"So can I stay?"

"Yeah, yeah of course. I said the door's always open." His gaze dropped to the hand towel he had used to clean himself up. While talking to his Holy Roller sister in the light of day, the night's activities seemed terribly sinful. "I…um…I should warn you though. I don't live alone anymore."

"What's this? Did a girl finally get her claws into my skirt-chasin' baby brother?"

"Actually no, I'm livin' with a guy."

"A guy."

"Yeah," he gulped. "He's…"

"He's what, Nicky? Why are you hesitatin'?"

After listening to his sister's heavy breathing for a minute he said, "Sorry, I'm still half asleep. He's my buddy Greg Sanders from work, the guy I told y'all about at Christmas, the one who got beaten on the job. Yeah, he needed a place to stay temporarily and I felt sorry for…"

"Good Lord, Nicky!" Eileen's laughter shook the phone. "You just about gave me a heart attack! For a second there I thought you were gonna tell me all those jokes our idiot brother makes about you were on the money and you're livin' queer with some sissified Vegas show boy just like he thinks. I was all ready to start plannin' Mom and Dad's double funeral, because surely they'd die from strokes upon hearin' their son was a fag. Especially after seein' the horrific shame Uncle Len and Aunt Annette have endured at church over Cousin Roy; those poor things."

"Uh…" When Nick started growing nauseous he popped a peppermint in his mouth, hoping it would help.

"I have to be honest, sugar…a couple of people have wondered about you. You're off livin' in a depraved city at the ripe old age of 35 with no serious girlfriend to speak of, while the rest of us are married with kids. I always tell people that the abduction messed you up a bit and you're very focused on your work, but I suppose it's easy now for them to believe otherwise since Cousin Roy has tainted the family with gayness. People think since we have one gay in the family there might be another…like it's a contagious disease. Lord, some people are so ignorant."

"Yeah." Nick hurried to get dressed.

"Thankfully Cousin Roy finally had the good sense to move to San Francisco last year after Uncle Len and Aunt Annette told him to leave their house. Rightly so I say. They offered to pay for corrective therapy, but that boy laughed in their faces tellin' them the Lord made him gay and he was proud. Can you, a red-blooded Texas man, imagine bein' proud of puttin' it up a guys bum?"

Nick remained silent as he broke into a sweat.

"It doesn't surprise me none, we hear that all the time when we're doin' our protest marches, it's so sad, they're such a lost group of people. I tell them it's simple, sex with a man is a sin, you can tell because if God loved queers, they'd be able to make babies together. Why is that so hard for some people to understand? It seems obvious to me. Gwen's the only one who stuck up for Roy, but you know her and her bleedin' heart. I told her she'd think differently if she had sons, not daughters. With two younger boys at home, Aunt Annette certainly couldn't let Roy stay under the roof to corrupt her normal God-loving sons. I told Gwen that it's a win-win for everybody. Now Cousin Roy is doin' his ugly business in a city full of sinners just like him, and we no longer have to worry about him gettin' near our kids at family parties. They like to recruit them young, you know. With Roy bein' 18, I'm sure a 12-year-old boy like my Benny is just what he wants. Oh shoot! Little Gus just fell. I shoulda stopped at five kids, I tell ya. I'll send you an email with my trip details. I look forward to seein' ya, Nicky! Bye."

Snapping the phone closed, he mumbled, "You wouldn't if you knew what I did last night." I was all ready to start plannin' Mom and Dad's double funeral, because surely they'd die from strokes upon hearin' their son was a fag. He started to shake. We no longer have to worry about him gettin' near our kids at family parties. I tell them it's simple, sex with a man is a sin, you can tell because if God loved queers, they'd be able to make babies together.

"You're awake!" Greg bounded over to his boyfriend eager to start the day. "Morning, Cletus." When Nick avoided his kiss, he laughed, "If you're worried about morning breath, I don't care. I just want your lips on my lips…and on my chest and on my…"

"Is sex all you friggin' think about?" Nick snapped.

"What can I say, you inspire me. Of course it's all I think about! I'm a guy and I'm with the one I want alone in the middle of nowhere!" Rubbing his hands together, Greg snickered, "Wanna take a shower?"

"No." Nick could feel the walls closing in.

Lunging for his man's hand, Greg said, "You're right; the sheets are already messed up, so let's just…"

"Stop it!" Nick shoved Greg aside. "I mean it."

"You're really serious?"

"Yes!"

Stunned by the 180, Greg stammered, "I…I don't understand. Last night…"

"Was a mistake, a huge mistake." When he saw his buddy's hurt reaction, Nick shifted his eyes to the floor. "I…I think this whole trip was a mistake. What I mean is, I made a mistake. I'm dressed because I'm leaving. I can't do this. I'm gonna go back to Vegas today. It's not your fault, it's…"

"What?" Greg's fingers raced though his hair. "We went to bed in love and you woke hating me so much you can't even look at me? Did I miss something? Did I do something in my sleep to offend you? Why are you doing this?"

Unable to breathe in the cramped room, Nick grabbed his duffle bag and bolted for the door. "Shit!" Realizing he was on a moored boat with no escape, he reacted like a caged animal, pacing and grunting. "I can't stay here!" he screamed to the sea.

When he emerged on deck, Greg bit back his tears and quietly urged, "Can we please calm down and talk about whatever it is that's got you freaked this time?"

"Call me a boat," Nick begged as his stomach knotted. "Please. Call or I'm gonna have to swim for it."

Without a word of protest, Greg walked to the radio and requested a pick up at Little Geiger Cove. When he was done, he stood behind Nick who was facing the water and shaking like a leaf. "Your boat is on its way, okay? You're not trapped here."

"Thank you." Nick shivered even though he was dressed warmly.

"Please tell me what happened," Greg pleaded as he zipped up his jacket to keep out the morning chill. "Was last night too much? I swear, I didn't mean to push. I really thought you wanted to fool around as much as I did…do."

"No, it's not that." Hanging his head, he explained, "My sister Eileen called just now. I told you about her, her husband's an assistant pastor at the church my family attends back in Dallas." Tears were in his eyes. "I'm sorry, I can't live like this with you…with anyone. I can't be Uncle Nicky the Fag who's suddenly not allowed to be alone in the same room with his nephews anymore. I can't be the reason my parents get dirty looks in church every Sunday. I thought I could, but hearin' her talk and thinkin' about what we did last night. I can't hurt them, or me, that much."

Exhausted from a year of being shit on by everyone, Greg took a deep breath and replied, "But after eight years of friendship, after having the best time living together for the last two months, after I introduced you to my parents as a standup guy, after the intense intimacy we shared in the last 24 hours, after sleeping in each other's arms all night…" Tears welled in his eyes. "After I indirectly told you I love you at least a dozen times yesterday, you can hurt me in a heartbeat? You can walk away from our relationship because of one friggin' phone call from a sister who didn't even care enough to visit or call you after you almost died? Is that right? Do I have my facts correct, buddy? Isn't Eileen the one who forgot your birthday last year?"

"I'm sorry," Nick whispered as fear stopped him from following his heart. "I'm really sorry."

"No, you're not sorry, not yet anyway. Sorry means you recognize you made a mistake and you regret it. Sorry is what you're going to be as soon as you leave this boat and realize you just made the biggest mistake of your life. And then it'll be too late, because I'm done being a doormat for you, for everyone! Once you leave, you are not welcome aboard the Freyja ever again, do you hear me?" Anger filling his voice, he yelled, "Do we have an understanding?"

Gripping his forehead, Nick choked out, "Yes…I get the message loud and clear."

"Good." After swallowing the lump in his throat, Greg said, "On top of everything else, you're a liar too."

"What?" Staring at the water, tears fell from Nick's eyes. "What do you mean I'm a liar? I'm tellin' the truth. My sister called and…"

"Last night you promised me that you'd take me to a nice restaurant with cloth napkins before you fucked me, but you just gave it to me good and there's not a cloth napkin in sight. See…you're a liar. Last night in bed you said I couldn't get rid of you if I tried. Well, I didn't try, but here you are leaving. You're a fat fucking liar, Stokes! And a coward! That bravery in the coffin was a fluke."

Upon seeing the water taxi in the distance, Nick frantically wiped his tears. "Why can't you understand…"

"Oh, I understand perfectly. You're choosing your father over me. Your father who denied you your favorite ice cream on vacation when you were eight, because you missed a friggin' Revolutionary War question at dinner. I get it, I can't compete with that kind of outstanding unconditional love." Listening to his buddy cry, Greg asked, "Why did your sister call anyway? Huh? Why did she call, Nick?" His anger growing while his heart broke, he screamed, "Did she call to make sure you were happy? Did she call to brighten your day? Or did she call because she needed something from you? When was the last time Eileen called just to say she loves you and not ask for a favor? I bet you can't count the years on one hand, can you?"

"Please stop."

"No!" Standing behind his weeping ex-boyfriend, Greg raged, "When was the last time any of your family members offered to drop everything for you? I dropped everything to take you on this vacation, to help you decompress and try to save your job. I could be in Long Beach right now making contacts to further my career, but I didn't think twice about calling my dad to get the boat and to plan this trip for you. My dad offered to buy me a place a month ago; a bigger, nicer place than your townhouse, but he could have offered to buy me a mansion in Beverly Hills and I still would have said 'no thanks, Dad, I want to live with Nick, because he's having nightmares and really needs someone around'." In Nick's ear, he snipped, "You're going to miss me."

"I know, but…"

"You are going to miss me so goddamn much, and I don't just mean around the apartment. There's no reason for me to stay in Vegas now that you don't want me, so I'm gone. You can have the city to yourself." Greg broke into a maniacal laugh, "I wouldn't want to stick around and make you sick. Because all I think about is sex, and that might make you uncomfortable. I can't wait to go."

"You don't mean that," Nick cried as his breathing grew more labored.

"Yeah, I do. You should be happy. Now you'll be safe." Greg flippantly said, "The disgusting fag that corrupted you and almost ruined your relationship with your family will be gone. You know, it's fine that you hate me. I'm cool with it, really, because I'm starting to hate you too."

"No, that's not true. I don't hate you." Tears streaming down his cheeks, Nick turned around to beg, "Please…please don't say that."

"I just did." As the boat approached, Greg coolly said, "I'll pack my shit when I get back on Saturday night, but I don't want you there. Go out and pass the time doing something that doesn't shame your family. Like your old favorite hobby, screwing girls you don't care about and who you're not married to while God, your mommy, and your church look the other way, because even though sex outside of marriage isn't allowed according to the Bible, everyone knows that straight, red-blooded Texans get a free pass." Walking down the stairs, he shed his first tear, "Have a nice fake life, Stokes!"

Don't go. Please don't go. By the time he reached the stateroom tears were pouring down his cheeks. "I really thought I'd get him to see…" The sound of Nick getting into the water taxi and it speeding away left him gasping. It didn't work. An hour ago, he woke up in Nick's arms looking forward to another great day, and now it was over. Sliding down the wall, he closed his eyes, and when he reached the floor, he dropped his head in his hands. "I really thought he loved me."

"He does," Nick confirmed as he dropped his duffle bag. His eyes welling again, he admitted, "He has for a while now."

"But…I thought you…" After clearing his throat, Greg scrambled to his feet.

"Thanks for the hefty dose of Tough Love." Nick nodded as he breathed deep. "I needed it."

"Considering you were raised by Tough Love Extremists, I thought it was my best hope for getting through to you."

"You were great too. You had me blubberin', but you never shed a tear."

"Nah, I started crying when I hit the stairs." Smiling, Greg wiped the dampness from his face. "Then I heard you leaving on the dinghy and I fell apart."

"About that." His whole body shaking, Nick pushed out a jittery smile. "I didn't change my mind until I stepped into the dinghy, which means that I technically left the Freyja. According to what you said, I'm not welcome aboard, but I was kinda hopin' you'd let that slide, because…I'm here, I'm queer, and I love you. I never thought I'd say two out of three of those things." He sobered, "I also never thought I'd say if it comes down to choosin' between you and my family, I'm gonna pick you, because they're my past and you are my future. At the end of the day my parents have each other, my siblings have their spouses, but I'm alone. I don't want to be alone anymore. I want to be with you. I didn't really understand how much until I stepped into that dinghy and realized everything I'd be leavin' behind. So, what do you say? Can I stay?"

"Yeah, but I'm confiscating your cell phone for the remainder of the trip."

"Deal." Nick placed his cell on a shelf and then yanked his forgiving boyfriend into his arms, nearly crushing him with a hug. "I'm so sorry."

"It's okay." Greg stroked Nick's hair, truly believing all doubts were finally behind him. "I know that fight hurt like hell, but I think it was worth it. We stared our demons in the face and came out of it much better off. Fighting is good every once in a while, it's a healthy a purge of emotions. We just have to get better at staying calm while we're working things out, okay? We're both emotional people; it gets a little scary."

"Yeah, I agree." Taking another cleansing breath, Nick happily shared, "Hey, for the first time, I feel 100 percent sure of myself. I really do."

"Good."

"It is good, because like your mom said, we already have the friend and livin' together parts down. Last night we found out we can have a good time in bed and this morning we realized what we meant to each other, so…this is it, we know we have somethin' special here." Nick burst into a silly grin. "Holy shit, I really said the L word, didn't I? I've never said that to anyone except family."

"Hey." Finally feeling secure enough, Greg said, "I love you too." The first time he had bravely uttered those words, Lacey ended up sleeping with his best friend. The second time he risked it all and let them roll off his tongue, Jeff punched him out. So, when Nick responded by cupping his face and tenderly kissing him on the mouth, he knew the saying was true…the third time was indeed a charm. "You taste like mint."

"You taste like coffee."

"Together we're a mint frappuccino."

"God, I'm so happy I got out of that boat." After calming down in each other's arms for a more few minutes, Nick suggested. "How about we push this all behind us and start the day over the right way?"

Thankful for a new beginning, Greg enthusiastically kicked things off with his usual greeting, "Good morning, Cletus." He followed up with an energetic smooch that got his blood flowing.

Desire simmering in his eyes, Nick slowly guided them backwards toward the bed. "Mornin', G."

"Did you sleep well?"

"Best rest I've had in years. Probably 'cause I was so relaxed when I went to bed." Nick locked his arms around Greg's waist and initiated a kiss, quickly slipping his tongue inside to make another mint frappuccino.

Before he knew what happened, Greg found himself horizontal on the bed. "Wow, you're really good at that infamous Soap Opera Stud move. I didn't even know I was off my feet until I hit the sheets."

Wearing a bad boy smile, the Texan slowly lowered his body. "You know what they say…practice, practice, practice." He strategically aligned their hips to maximize the pleasure. "That's just one of many tricks I perfected over the years."

"With the laaaaaadies," Greg replied with flair, loving the newfound confidence in his partner's eyes. "Now I'm reaping the rewards of all that practice while the lovely ladies of Las Vegas long for their cowboy."

"They can long all they want to, but they can't have me," Nick rasped into Greg's ear before running his tongue along its edge. "Only you can have me."

Greg moaned as his eyes fluttered shut.

"Do you like this?"

"Yessss."

"I love that you tell me what you like and what you want. It's so frustrating when you're in bed with someone who doesn't speak up."

Opening his eyes, Greg puckishly said, "Wanna know what I'm thinking right now?"

In between earlobe nips, Nick answered, "Tell me."

"I have breakfast in the oven and it's about to burn."

"I thought somethin' smelled good."

"Nana Olaf's Stuffed French Toast."

"Ooh! Really?" Putting his stomach's needs over his libido's, Nick bolted out of bed. "I've been dyin' for that ever since you mentioned it at dinner that time with your dad."

As he was yanked to his feet Greg rolled his eyes. "Men…if they're not thinking about sex, it's food."

---

Sitting at the small table in his hotel suite, Gil stared at his uneaten muffin and wondered where Sara had gone. Glancing up at the door he wondered for the hundredth time if he should have chased her even though she made it clear she needed air. He didn't have the answer. More often than not, he never knew the right answer when it came to loving Sara.

Although the newspaper was in front of him, it was Sara's journal entry he kept reading. Just like her, he had so many unanswered whys. Why hadn't he mailed the letter he had written when he was at Williams? Why couldn't he tell her about the pillows or the dishwasher, or that she tugged too hard for his liking.

When his gaze drifted to the wall, he recalled Nick's explosive words coming from the room next door. He remembered the pain and fear in his voice when he shouted exactly what was breaking his heart at the time. Gil wondered what it would feel like to yell the truth the moment he felt it, instead of keeping it all bottled up inside. Thinking of Greg's desperate plea for two minutes of time to explain, he wondered what it would be like to put everything on the line.

"I'm back," Sara announced when she stepped into the room clutching her journal. "But I'm not staying."

Gil blinked to make sure she was really there. "Sara…" She was already on her way to her suitcase. "I…"

Usually she'd rescued him with 'it's okay, you don't have to say anything', but this time, she kept her mouth shut and packed her bag.

Walking over, Gil caught her hand as it reached for shirt. "We need to talk."

***

Chapter 29: Wednesday – Coming to Terms

Yanking her hand from Gil's, Sara backed away from her suitcase. "Which part did you read? I have stuff about me, about my childhood in there, things that I never expected anyone to know."

"I only read last night's entry, and I didn't even finish. I got to the part about Nick and Greg." He pointed to the shower. "I wouldn't have had time for more than that, if you think about it."

"Always a CSI." She smiled momentarily. "That's why I jumped out of the shower. I suddenly remembered I had left my journal there."

"It was terribly wrong of me to read it," He began. "If I were in your shoes, I'd feel violated."

"I do."

"I'm very sorry." Shoving his hands in his pockets, he sighed, "I think I was looking for a clue, about you…about us. We seem so out of sync. Ever since you arrived; but after reading what you wrote, I guess you felt out of sync long before that. I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"I…" After a full minute of staring, he confessed, "I really don't know."

"Well, honesty is something I guess." Sara took a seat on the edge of the bed. "Why is this so hard for us? Nick and Greg should be the ones fumbling through. You and I have had something special between us for seven years."

"You could argue, that they have too." He pulled over a chair and took a seat across from her. "Maybe the difference is that they used those seven years to get closer to one another, while we focused on staying apart." When he saw his lover's raised brow, he corrected, "While I focused on keeping us apart. Maybe that behavior became ingrained in me to the point where I'm still doing it even though we're together now, whereas Nick and Greg merely added a physical component to an already solid relationship. Their insecurities aren't about whether or not they're compatible, because they know without a doubt that they are. Their only worries are about external pressures, but for us, we not only have the stress of keeping our romance a secret, we're trying to get to know each other intimately at the same time. Does that make sense?"

"Yeah," she nodded, "a lot actually."

"As for why I can't tell you things…" He studied her eyes. "I…I used to be afraid of having you in my life, so I deliberately didn't tell you much of anything, as a way to remain distant. Now that I have you, I think maybe I don't talk to you about stuff because I'm afraid of not having you, which still keeps me unintentionally distant."

"Where do you think that fear of loss comes from?" she asked, feeling almost guilty for prying. "Do you think it's because of your father dying so suddenly? That maybe you're afraid that the minute you get close to someone…the moment you love them completely, they'll die; metaphorically speaking or for real." Her lips closed, she anxiously smiled. "That's what I wrote after the Nick and Greg part of that journal entry. You said that you didn't read that far so I was bringing you up to speed. If you're feeling uncomfortable, I'll forgive you for reading my private thoughts and consider us even."

Remaining silent, he nodded.

"You've never been to therapy, have you?"

"Actually, yes, I have, after my father died. Catholic services provided free family counseling and we went a handful of times. I didn't say much."

"I'm not surprised." Her smile expanded. "It's just me here, not some stuffy psychoanalyst or underpaid PEAP counselor like the one you made me go to after my almost-DUI." Locking her gaze on his, she gently reminded him, "I love you. Your secrets are safe with me."

"Thank you for the encouragement." After pulling in a labored breath and releasing it, he said, "I do like my throw pillows on 45-degree angles. I hate the way you load the dishwasher. I've perfected the process over the years and would be happy to show you the optimal arrangement for that particular Maytag model." Focusing on her smile, he continued, "While I'm thrilled to have your hands on my body, especially below the belt, I wish you wouldn't tug quite so hard on my boys, because they've always been a little over sensitive."

"Duly noted," she laughed. "Now tell me something that wasn't in the journal entry."

"I hate that you don't wipe the top of the mustard container after every use. It builds up and forms crust, I hate that. Frankly I'm surprised a germophobe like you wouldn't be more bothered by that as well."

"I guess it's because I know it's my crust."

After laughing with her, Gil nervously said, "I don't think we have insurmountable problems, Sara, do you?"

She shook her head. "I think our biggest problem is not saying what's on our minds. If we could just be honest with each other…"

"What holds you back?" he probed, feeling comfortable enough to pry.

"When I was on my walk just now, I think I finally figured it out. I was tearing down the path wishing I had stayed and screamed my head off at you like Nick had with Greg the other day, when it hit me…I'm afraid to fight. I'm afraid to be them."

"Nick and Greg?"

"My parents," she corrected. "You know, will heated words turn into throwing a glass at the wall and then throwing punches?"

"I would never lay a hand on you, Sara…or any woman for that matter. You have to know that."

"I do, absolutely." Staring straight at him, she quietly said, "It's me I worry about. What if I'm her?"

"You're not."

"She had no history of violence before she picked up that knife."

"I can understand where the fear originates, but…" Reaching out, he took her hand between his. "You're not her, and you never will be, I believe that in my soul."

Tears welling in her eyes, she nodded. "Thank you."

"May I?" He pointed to the bed.

"Please." The feel of his arms around her, released her tears. "I want to believe I'm not her, but I get scared whenever…I've wanted to kill more than a few men in my time: wife beaters, pedophiles, baby killers."

"So have I, honey, but that's hardly the same as stabbing your significant other over mustard crust. It's worlds away." He smoothed a palm over her back. "Think of how many times our co-workers have said they wanted to kill a perp over a heinous crime. Nick almost did."

---

"This view is amazing," Nick remarked when they reached the top of rocky mountain covered in scrub brush and wild grass. "Last night's storm really cleared the sky, you can see for miles."

"Yeah, I told you it would be great."

Since they hadn't seen anyone for the last hour, Nick felt comfortable enough to slip his arms around Greg's waist from behind. Resting his chin on his shoulder, he quietly said, "Thanks for bringing me here, not just on the hike, I mean on the trip. You really did drop everything to do this for me and I appreciate that and you, and your parents too. They readied the boat, got the permits, and made reservations for us. I'm a real lucky guy."

"Are you feeling the love?" Greg asked while resting against Nick's chest and staring out at the ocean below them.

"Yes, I am." Nick cinched his arms tighter, enjoying the beautiful landscape and the intimate moment. "I may never want to leave here."

"We have a boat and a hundred grand, so we could stay for a while. That would actually be a really comfortable retirement fund south of the border."

With the ocean breeze blowing Greg's floppy hair, Nick brushed it aside to kiss his cheek. "You wanna run away to Mexico with me, G? We could sell seashell necklaces to make beer money. I may not have a job, so why not, right?"

"You'll get to keep it."

"I don't know." The veteran CSI sighed, "Maybe I don't want it back. If I really could stay here, I think I would."

"What really happened?" Greg softly asked. "Why do you think you reacted so intensely?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"I think it would help to talk about it before you report back, don't you?" When Nick pulled away, he assumed the answer was no.

"No, you're right, it would help." The troubled man took a seat on a boulder and stared out at the perfect blue sky. "We all have our hot buttons, y'know. Mine's kids."

Greg remained where he was standing, believing it was what his partner wanted at the moment. "I think kids hit everyone hard."

"Yeah." Nodding, he picked a piece of sage brush to occupy his hands. "The ones who are killed instantly, I can handle. You know, the ones who didn't see it comin'. I can reconcile they weren't scared at the time, because they didn't know what was gonna happen. I imagine they're in a better, happy place…heaven…some kind of sweet afterlife, whatever. It's the ones like Cassie McBride…"

"But she's alive, thanks to you." Greg thought of the girl's latest drawings tacked up on their fridge at home. She was eleven now and living with a foster family in Henderson. At her request, Nick visited her every month without fail. He had started going to her school too. The first time was in place of her father on career day, but when the kids loved him, Cassie's teacher begged him to come back regularly and be a positive influence, especially for the at-risk boys in the class. Now Mrs. Martin's fifth graders worshipped him, because he brought cool CSI stuff to show and tell once a month along with cookies and juice.

"Cassie told me she still has nightmares."

"Of course she does. We do, and we were in our thirties when we were traumatized."

"Kids shouldn't have to suffer," Nick remarked after several minutes of silence. "I can't stand knowin' they suffered, knowin' the terror they felt. You know what it's like to think you're about to die." Covering his mouth with a shaky hand, he pulled in a fresh air through his nose. "The girl the other day, her name was Miranda Little, and she was…she was the sweetest little thing. Her head was gone, but I saw pictures of her in the house. She was so cute. How that man could hold a gun to her pretty little head…" The first tear slipping down his cheek, he said, "She collected stuffed animals, she had lots, they all had names, she had them written on their tags. The teddy bear I bagged, its name was Buster, it looked to be about as old as her you know, worn and sewed in a few places." Tears now streaming down his cheeks, he shared in a shaky voice, "From the spatter pattern, I could tell she was clutchin' it when her father shot her. She had already wet herself twice from the fear, I could tell from processin' her pajamas. Can you imagine how terrified that poor little girl was, G?"

Greg's heart ached as his listened, for both victims, the girl and the man who had to deal with the aftermath of such a senseless and brutal tragedy.

"You, me, Cassie…we didn't know the people who were tryin' to kill us. We weren't even intended targets. We were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. It doesn't make it any easier, but it sure as hell isn't as hard as havin' it be your own father." Nick let his tears spill along with his secrets. "When it's your own father doin' the hurtin' it's…it's…"

"Did your father hit you?" Greg asked as he took a step closer. "Did he physically abuse you on top of the mental abuse?" It never sat right with him that Judge Stokes's words upon seeing Nick in the coffin were 'Pancho, what the hell you got yourself into'. He sounded disappointed, like he was blaming his son for being captured. Unlike his own father, who never once faulted him for getting beaten, and who had reacted normally, crying out 'why would someone do this to my boy', Judge Stokes blamed his son, the victim.

"Most of the time he used his belt. It wasn't all that uncommon where I come from, not back then anyway. When I screwed up, and I always did as a kid, I don't know why, it was never intentional. He'd um…I'd have to go to his office. That's how us kids knew we were in big trouble, if the Judge called us into his office, we knew we were comin' out with strap marks on our hides. And no one went to his office more than me." Staring into the sky, he looked back in time. "He has this leather chair and first you'd sit in it and get the lecture and then you'd stand up, turn around, and take your punishment without complaint. I think that's why I got so upset when I was cuttin' the duct tape holdin' Miranda Little in that chair he had her trapped in for hours. I could empathize. I knew she had been sittin' there watchin' her daddy turn red in the face…wonderin' why he was so mad at her, wonderin' what he was gonna do to her and how bad it would hurt. I knew how scared she was and how she was probably thinkin' she didn't mean to make him so mad. She probably said she was sorry a hundred times hopin' it would make it all go away." Shaking his head, he choked out, "I'm glad she had her teddy bear with her when she passed, and I'm glad he shot her right in the head, so she didn't feel any pain. I'm glad she's in a better place now and won't ever have to deal with him again." After a few minutes of silent contemplation, he spoke in an icy voice, "I really, really wanted to kill that man."

Unsure if the 'that man' was Mr. Little or Judge Stokes, Greg crouched down next to his best friend and took his hand. "I'm glad you didn't, because then you'd be in jail instead of here with me. And all this stuff with your dad…it's in the past, he can't hurt you now, unless you let him. I know it's hard, because he's your father and you want him to love you, but love shouldn't hurt, not when you're 8 or 35. You were a little boy who probably had undiagnosed Attention Deficit Disorder, that's why you got so easily distracted all the time, or appeared forgetful. You shouldn't have been denied ice cream or love for that, Nick. You should have been getting help, not hurt. Your father's standards were way too high, and he was wrong to compare you to your brother. Every kid has unique challenges and talents." He gave his hand an extra squeeze. "You can't please someone who is impossible to please. There was no way you could have done any better."

"You think I was ADD?" Nick remarked in surprise as he wiped his eyes.

"I'm not a doctor, but from all the stories you've told me over the years and what I've observed, I think it's a real possibility. I know a lot about it from a research project I did in Undergrad. People tend to dwell on the negatives of ADD, but one positive quality is Hyperfocus. When a person with ADD is interested in something they work till they drop, especially hands-on activities, which is your favorite part of the job today, right? We have to drag you out of the layout room sometimes and you'll sit in front of a computer for five hours looking for a needle in a haystack and when we tell you you've been there five hours, you're stunned thinking it's been five minutes. How many examples can you think of from your childhood where you got in trouble because you couldn't tear yourself away from something like a model airplane or new book? Or you saw something that interested you to the point that you became immersed in it and the rest of the world faded?"

"Tons."

"You keep saying things like you didn't mean to be a bad kid or do anything wrong or that you didn't realize how much time had passed or that you were distracted on the way to do something you had been told to do."

"Yeah, I drove my parents crazy with that kind of stuff."

"Boredom is the enemy of ADD and I think you love your job because there's never a dull moment and your mind is always on the run."

"That's an interestin' take, I'll give you that." Nick pondered the possibility.

"Let's say I'm right. ADD wasn't around under that name in the 70s, but doctors were treating kids for it based on symptoms. Your parents never took you to a doctor, they just called you a bad kid and beat your ass with a strap. Then they didn't recognize the signs that you had been molested by a babysitter they hired either. Add the mental abuse your father called good parenting and I'm sorry, but…how can you feel like a disappointment to them? They should be apologizing to you. You had 4.0 averages in High School and College, and you're a great CSI today. Do you know how many parents would kill to have a son like you? But you let your parents make you feel bad because you're not married with three kids by now, or because you don't have a Masters or a law degree or MD at the end of your name like the rest of your siblings. Every time you come back from Dallas you're depressed and comparing yourself to your brother. Now you're obsessing over disappointing your family further because you're gay. Enough is enough. You'renot the one with the problem."

Finally moving his eyes from the horizon, Nick whispered, "I think you might be right."

"I know I am!" Greg confidently replied. "But if you don't believe me, ask Cassie McBride if she thinks you're a slacker. If it wasn't for you and your refusal to move on when the rest of the world was telling you to, she'd be dead. By the way, that's another really great Hyperfocus example. I'm pretty sure Cassie thinks you're a valuable guy even though you don't have a Masters Degree or a wife. I know I do, and I'm not just saying that because a wife would get in the way of our relationship….okay, maybe that's part of it." He burst into a smile.

Nick stared at his boyfriend. "I'm really messed-up, aren't I?"

"You're a therapist's wet dream; your fees over the years could fund a Mercedes." Grinning wide, Greg tugged him off the rock and into his arms. "But I love every messed-up inch of you." He snickered, "Some inches more than others."

"I knew you were going to say that."

After laughing together in each other arms, Greg said, "Keeping your emotions and secrets locked inside gets really unhealthy after a while. That's why you're so tightly wound."

"I know, I know."

"Lucky for you, I don't charge for time on my couch."

"You wanna be my therapist?"

"Among other things." Greg winked. "Uunpack some more of that baggage you've been hauling around for years." Pushing his buddy onto the grass, he rested next to him, staring up at the sky. "It's a beautiful day, we're in a beautiful place, and we have nothing but time."

---

After checking her watch, Jan stared at her husband, who was driving with her to Greg's old Prep School to discuss enrolling Jenni. "Are you still worried?"

Turning down the radio, the distracted husband replied, "I'm sorry, dear. Did you say something?"

"Please stop worrying about the PFLAG meeting. I'm sure they're lovely people. The woman I spoke with on the phone seemed very nice."

"I'm not worried about the strangers at the meeting. I'm worried about going there with you. Promise me you're not going to stand up and say 'My name is Jan Sanders and my husband is having a hard time understanding why our son wants to bend over and take it in the butt' or something equally horrifying and/or humiliating."

"I promise I won't." She assured him with a pat to the knee. "You don't believe me, do you?"

"No."

---

On a break from the conference, Gil snuck into the men's room to use his cell phone. "Yes, that's correct, a dozen red, a dozen yellow, and a dozen pink roses all in separate vases."

"Someone's gonna get lucky," the young flower shop clerk snickered, "or they've really messed up."

Gil stared into his cell phone, and then returned it to his ear. "If you must know, it's the former."

"Former what?" asked the guy forced to work at his parents' shop in exchange for rent money. "Oh! They're for your former girlfriend and you're hoping she takes you back. Good luck, dude."

Rolling his eyes, the professor muttered, "Have the card say 'Shakespeare and champagne to follow.'"

"Shakespeare like the Romeo and Juliet dude?"

"Yes." Gil turned his gaze to the ceiling.

"Is champagne spelled c-h-a-m-p-a-i-n? Or is it c-h-a-m-p-a-n-e?

"Neither," Gil droned. "It's c-h-a-m-p-a-g-n-e."

"There's a G in it? Seriously? Are you sure?"

While wondering if he shouldn't hang up and call another shop, he replied, "I'm positive."

"Are you over 21?" the clerk asked in an authoritative voice.

"Why is that pertinent?" Gil snipped. "I'm not buying the champagne from you, only the flowers."

"Right. Right. Hey, why are you buyin' champagne? That stuff gives wicked headaches. If you really want to loosen up your former girlfriend and get her to put out, liquor is quicker, ya know what I'm sayin'? Bwamp Chicka Bom Bom! Unless you can get your hands on some E, then she'll really be willing to party. I know a connection. Wait…are you a cop?"

Just as he was about to hang up, Gil heard a woman shout 'How many times have I told you, you're not allowed to answer the phone, Mark! Go help your father in the back!'

"I'm very sorry, that was my idiot son. How may I help you?"

---

"Careful, G!" Nick riotously laughed at his buddy who had tripped down the Freyja's stairs. "Jeeeeez, Beavis, you only had five beers."

"Maybe you aren't suppose to booze when you take those sea sickness pills," Greg remarked from his new position on the floor. "Or maybe those aren't sea sickness pills my mother gave us. Jan probably gave us Ecstasy to make sure we get naked."

"I wish I had a mom like yours. My mama is very anti-nudity."

"Did she keep her clothes on when she was making all seven of you?"

"Probably." After helping the lush to his feet, Nick guided him to the stateroom. "Mmm…today was great. The hike, the baggage dump, and the drinkin' at that café by the water. I feel great." He stole a kiss. "I feel really close to you too, much closer than when we left here this morning."

"Me too." Greg burst into giddy grin. "Uh oh, I'm starting to think Jan did leave us E, because my world is looking better by the minute."

"You ever take it for real?"

"E, K, MJ…yeah, I've been through the alphabet more than a few times." Greg placed his hands on his boyfriend's shoulders and tried to joke with a straight-face. "But nothin' gets me higher than you, cowboy." He burst out laughing.

"Aww, I love you too, honey." With a twinkle in his eye, Nick slyly asked, "Wanna go to dinner with me tonight?"

When the backs of his legs hit the mattress, Greg pulled them both onto the bed.

"Damn, you gotta work on your technique." Nick laughed and winced, "You almost threw out my back."

"Practice, practice, practice…I'm looking forward to plenty of it." After a playful kiss that left him wanting more, Greg said, "I'd love to go to dinner with you tonight."

"Someplace with cloth napkins without shack, pub, or diner in its name?" Nick snickered in his future lover's ear, "I can't believe I'm sayin' what I'm sayin'…but I hope you say yes."

"Yesssss." As his neck was assaulted with lusty kisses, Greg blurted, "But you know what I'd really like to do before dinner?"

"What?" Nick asked while lowering his mouth to flesh.

"I'd like to break your silly little 'dinner at a restaurant with cloth napkins first' rule."

Nick lifted his head and stared gape-mouthed.

"You heard right." Greg's pulse notched as they stared each other down, silently discussing the proposition with their eyes.

After an anxious lick of his lips, Nick asked the customary question, "Are you sure?"

"Yes," Greg immediately answered without breaking eye contact. "What about you?"

"I…" Nerves made him laugh. "Yeah, but I'll admit I'm a little unnerved by the idea too. Good thing we have some beer in us."

"Why are you nervous? You've done it with the laaaaadies hundreds of times, Tex. You've seen more ass than some Proctologists, so I'm sure you'll find your groove." Laughing along, Greg said, "It works the same with a guy as a girl, except for having a different internal pleasure target, but as I understand it, the prostate is rather hard to miss."

"Let's hope so for your sake." Titillated by the idea, Nick reclaimed Greg's lips with a demanding kiss.

The electricity building between them, Greg excitedly said, "I'll grab what we need. You set the mood."

After prying their bodies apart, they scrambled to their feet to complete their assignments.

"What kind of music would ya like, G?" Nick asked when he reached the stereo compartment. "Do you…" The sound of a nightstand drawer opening across the room made him lose focus. "Uh…" Partly terrified, but wholly excited, his anticipation doubled.

"Pick music that inspires a slow, gentle pace," Greg joked while holding up a large plastic bag labeled 'The Ultimate Condom Sampler'. "Do you have a favorite? It's probably in here."

Watching each other complete their tasks only heightened their already excessive arousal.

"I always leave the condom choice up to the recipient," Nick shared as he flipped through the CD choices, "But I know you've been off the market for a while, so I'll recommend a Trojan Twisted Pleasure if it's in there. It's got a little somethin' special for both of us."

"Found one!"

"That's…" Nick's mind blanked as he watched two hand towels, a foil packet, and a small purple bottle land on the bed. It was really going to happen.

"Stay away from all my Techno grinds, because 180 bpm is a little too much for a newbie, and sorry, no country either. We'll fulfill your hillbilly fantasies down the road though, I promise."

"We'll um…go the traditional route then, R&B instrumental, there's a bunch. Probably 'cause your sex-crazed parents love to get it on in here."

"No doubt."

With a trembling hand, Nick loaded the CD into the player and then moved to turn off the overhead lights and shut the door.

"Check this out." Greg flicked on a fake battery-operated candle. "It's dangerous to have real ones on a boat, so my mom got these. Cool huh?" He clicked on a second one. By the flicker of the faux lights, he shed everything but his stone-washed jeans. "Feeling inspired yet?" He popped open the top button and rested his hand at the waistband.

"Hell, if I feel much more inspiration, I may finish before we start." Trying desperately to steady his breathing, Nick shucked his sweatshirt and kicked off his shoes and socks.

Greg crawled into bed and propped up on his elbows, fully recognizing that his pose, however casual, was turning Nick on a little more ever second.

"You're overdressed," Nick remarked as he shoved his 501s to the ground. Running his hands up his posing partner's pant legs, he said in a sexy rasp, "Let me help you with these."

"I was hoping you would." While the muscular man deftly worked open his button flys, the edgy virgin devoured him with his eyes.

The sounds escaping from his almost-lover's parted lips drove the pent-up cowboy wild. Not since his teen years had he worried about losing it upon contact, but suddenly he feared he might. "I'm really worked up," he confessed while blanketing the equally roused body.

"This probably won't help." Greg jumpstarted the passion with a lusty kiss that soon had their bodies and minds pushed to the brink. "Make a move," he urged, his heart pounding in his chest. "The anticipation is killing me."

Thanks to the sultry music, soft lightning, primal kisses and the knowledge that they were both about to fulfill a taboo desire, the pace had gotten completely out of hand. "We gotta slow things down a little first." Nick slid off to the side. "I know you mentioned other positions, but if it's okay with you, I'd like to stick with what I know for the first time."

The cool air in the stateroom making his warm skin prickle, Greg rolled onto his side. "Like this?" In a heartbeat, Nick was pressed up against him and he couldn't imagine how high his pulse would soar when they shed the one article of clothing keeping them apart.

"It's a little chilly in here." Nick asked in a husky voice, "Think you'll be comfortable like this?" He simulated the act, to give him a taste. "Hmm?" Sliding his palm over Greg's grey cotton briefs, he breathed against his neck, "Think you'll like it?"

"I think I already love it." The first-timer's jitters appeared in a goofy laugh. "God, this is fun and exciting in a really nerve-wracking way."

"It should be that way the first time," Nick whispered. "Does this make it more or less nerve-wracking?" he teased while bringing the bottle right next to Greg's ear and flicking it open with his thumb.

"Definitely more," the virgin laughed and glanced over his shoulder.

"Ha! I thought so." Nick temporarily set it down so he could remove his shorts. "We'll come back to that in a sec."

"I think you're having fun torturing me." The Queer as Folk fan was starting to get a 'watered-down Brian Kinney' vibe from Nick. He laughed, "I was less worried when you were insecure."

"Laughter's good." The expert confirmed, "It's good because it's relaxing and relaxing is exactly what you need to start doin', G. You're way too tense. Take it from Mr. Hundreds of Times, it makes all the difference."

Watching a second pair of boxer briefs sail through the air, Greg's breathing quickened. "I kinda thought you would help me relax a little before you…" At the mercy of the sexually-charged man behind him, he suddenly felt incredibly vulnerable.

"Of course I'll help." Grinning, Nick planted a kiss on the back of Greg's neck while swirling his fingertips over his hip. "But you need to loosen up your body with your mind, while I'm usin' my..." A flash of panic raced through him.

"What's wrong?" Greg saw something in his eyes.

"Just me feelin' a little ridiculous and horny at the same time." With an anxious chuckle Nick said, "Carryin' on our tradition of bein' brutally honest with each other, I just thought of me about to do somethin' to you that I've never done to a guy, and you're not just a guy, you're Greggo; my bud, my pal, my best friend. It's not the act itself or the foreplay, I know some people think it's nasty, but it's always been my favorite thing." He gave another anxious laugh. "It's just weird thinkin' I'm gonna do it to you." His eyes studying the incredibly enticing body before him, he gulped, "I've never done this to a friend, only chicks I didn't care about. Doesn't it seem at all freaky to you?"

"Not at all actually." Enjoying the sweetly awkward moment, Greg snickered, "Because as far as I'm concerned, if you can't trust your best friend to treat your ass right, who can you trust?" After a mutual laugh, he added, "If I felt comfortable doin' this with a stranger, I wouldn't still have virgin cheeks, right? I've been waiting to find a friend and lover I could trust, so to me this isn't freaky, it's ideal."

"God, I love you." Nick stole a wet, sloppy kiss and reached for the bottle with renewed confidence. "You always know just what to say to make me feel better."

"That's exactly why you should keep me around for the rest of your life."

His breath catching in his throat, Nick considered the statement for a moment, and then softly replied, "That might be nice." He dropped a kiss on the shoulder in front of him. "But I guess we need to find out if we like this first, huh?" Abruptly shifting to levity, he popped open the bottle's cap and winked. "Ready, honey?"

"Go for it, cowboy." Greg glanced over his shoulder grinning. "I know you'll make it special."

The rest was an exciting blur, an ideal blend of intense moves, heavy breathing, and guttural noises, all of which led to an almost simultaneous crescendo of pure joy. Afterwards, they collapsed against the sheets gasping for oxygen, agreeing it was the most intensely erotic experience of their lives. It was something they'd never forget…something brilliant to replace their lackluster hetero first times…something they were grateful to have waited for and shared together, instead of with someone they didn't love…something they definitely enjoyed and would want to do again, and again…and maybe even reverse roles one day or every once in a while.

There were no tears of regret afterwards, no freak outs or horrific feelings of damnation. Love and satisfaction were the dominant emotions in the room. Once their passion was quenched and their breathing restored, they morphed from lovers to buddies. In minutes they were racing to be first in the Freyja's small shower and doing rock/paper/scissors to see who would have to deal with the messy sheets. Nick lost, but he didn't care.

Dressed in towels after their shower, Nick wrapped his arms around Greg from behind. "Still up for dinner?" Resting his chin on his partner's shoulder, he sweetly asked, "Or is there somethin' you wanna do?"

Greg laughed, "I'm up for anything except bike riding, horseback riding, or bottoming."

"I told you you'd regret getting that carried away the first time, didn't I?"

Greg snickered, "I'm still glad I didn't listen."

"Yeah, but now you're out on DL for who knows how long." After a smack to his lover's ass, Nick grabbed a fresh pair of boxer briefs. "I need another beer, what about you?"

"Definitely."

Snapping his shorts in place, Nick felt his cheeks flush. "I'm tryin' to wrap my head around what we just did. You're Greggo, you're my bud, we had sex, I can't believe we had sex."

"I can," Greg laughed as he gingerly sat on the edge of the bed. "Can you get my ass an ice pack while you're grabbing the beer?" When he saw his lover's worried look, he laughed again, "Relax, Cletus, I'm kidding, it's not that bad. I'm just milking it, so you'll spoil me."

"I was gonna do that anyway." The cowboy winked and headed for the door. "Because that sex was hot! Red hot!"

"There's no turning back now!" Greg shouted from the bed. "You're so totally gay, Cletus!"

"Yes I am!" the cowboy whooped as he made his way to the kitchen. "Hey, when do I get my official membership card?"

When he heard country music blasting and Nick singing along, Greg crashed onto the sheets. "That's what I get for fallin' for a redneck….hick songs ruining my afterglow." Closing his eyes, he smiled, "That's okay, I'll make sure I have my IPod handy next time." He decided to croon along, making up his own words, "Cletus lovvvvvvvves me. He's gonna buy me a double wide 'cause I let him rock my beeeeeeehind! Cletus lovvvvvvvvvvves me. He's gonna take me to the Sears Outlet Store 'cause I let him in my backdoorrrrrrrrr!"

"Keep makin' fun and I'm comin' back for more right now!"

"Doh!" Greg reached for his cell phone. "I'm gonna call my mommy and tell her you popped my cherry!"

"You are not!" Standing at the fridge, Nick rolled his eyes.

"Oh yes I am."

"Right."

---

"Dave!" Jan ran through the house waving the cordless phone. "Nicky told Greg he loved him! And he's serenading him with a country song! And he's taking him to dinner later!"

"Oh God." Dave lowered the paper. "You mean they…"

Jan made a popping noise with her mouth.

"There has to be a 12-step program out there for you, Jan." Relieved to know his boy was being treated right, Dave lifted the paper to shield his grin. "Did he say what kind of restaurant? Are we talking cloth napkins or paper?"

***

Chapter 30: Wednesday – Love Is in the Air

"Welcome Jan and Dave," the PFLAG welcome committee warmly greeted their newest members. The small group was comprised of two couples - one the parents of a lesbian daughter, and one the parents of two gay sons; two single moms, both with gay sons, and a big sister of a young man saving up for sex-reassignment surgery.

"My name is Connie Dunbar," the group leader stood and handed a pack of pamphlets to the grinning mother and anxious father sitting in the circle. "We always start our meetings in small groups and then we break for refreshments and then come together as one large group to listen to the evening's guest speaker and handle all business for the month. We're very happy to have you joining us tonight. I've given you our welcome kit, you'll find a wealth of information in there as well as a great list of websites and books that may be of interest to you."

"Thank you very much," Jan replied, "For the information and the very warm welcome to the group.

"You should be very proud of yourself for being here," Jack Dunbar, Connie's husband smiled at the couple. "Your son is lucky to have parents who ran to the first available PFLAG meeting upon hearing the news…sadly, that doesn't happen very often. It took me about a year to finally come here with my wife."

"We love our son," Jan boasted. "He's just as wonderful today as he was two weeks ago. Nothing's changed." Grinning, she patted her jittery husband's knee. "Well, nothing except that our boy is now actively having sex with a man. That's been a little difficult for my husband."

"Here we go." Dave turned his gaze to the ceiling.

Tom Faulkner gave a supportive nod. "That's always the hardest part for the dads."

Connie chuckled at her friend. "You have a lesbian daughter, Tom."

"Yeah, but I've watched many new dads wince and squirm over the years, so I can empathize."

"He told me his ass hurts just thinking about it." Jan slipped her arm around her husband's slumped shoulders. "Can someone please explain to me why he can't get over his son's caboose being open for occupancy, but has had no problem knocking on my backdoor all these years? What's good for the goose isn't good for the gander's gosling and I think that's a double standard, don't you? A baby goose is called a gosling, right?" she whispered to Dave, who was staring at her gape mouthed.

"I can't hear you, honey, because of all the blood pooling in my ears."

"Ooh! I like you, Jan Sanders!" Marge Westmire clapped her hands. "I said the same damn thing to my ex-husband when he called our son a fudge-packer!" She shook a finger at Dave. "Note I said ex-husband. I hate hypocrisy."

"Me too," Jan huffed, "and it's really bothered me." She turned to her husband. "I didn't realize how much until I said it out loud just now. Why is it good enough for me, but not Greg? If it's so demeaning, then you must think women are second class citizens or something."

"What?" Dave barked at his wife. "That's ludicrous."

"Then explain the double standard!" Marge ordered on behalf of her new pal Jan. "Would it be okay if a hot chick wearing a strap on was giving it to your boy? Or would he still not be worthy?"

Tom interjected, "Really think before you answer that question, Dave."

Watching his wife ready to pounce, Dave cleared his throat and said, "Of course I wouldn't mind if it was a hot chick. It's the thought of a guy violating my son that makes me nauseous."

"Oh," Jan and Marge simultaneously sighed.

Connie jumped in to reclaim her meeting. "Now, let's remember, there is no judgment here." She smiled at the new couple. "What you're feeling is quite normal. In my ten years here, I've heard that very conundrum dozens of times."

Jack Dunbar winked at the new dad. "I felt the same way as you Dave, and answered the question just like that," he chuckled. "The next day, Connie came home with a strap-on and asked me to prove it."

Dave's eyes jumped wide open.

"That's right," Connie winked at her man. "I told him that he shouldn't knock it until he tried it and until he tried it, he couldn't knock it without sounding ignorant, so either he drop his drawers or stop picking on our boy."

Jack laughed, "I chose to stop making jokes, and we gave the unused strap-on to a nice lesbian couple who were financially strapped."

The room exploded in laughter.

Jan pecked her blushing husband's cheek. "See, I told you they sounded like a fun group!"

---

"You want me to hang out at a gay bar?" Nick's anxiety returned with a vengeance. "With a bunch of gay guys?" When they called Avalon's finest restaurant and couldn't get a reservation, they postponed their 'cloth napkin dinner' until Friday and dressed for a casual night in town.

"Odds are there will be a few gays at a gay bar, yes." Smiling at the flummoxed man pacing the ground in front of him, Greg said, "It's okay, we don't have to go. How about we grab some burgers and play mini golf? That was on my To Do list too, because I always played with my dad when we came here; it's a great course."

"But you really wanted to play pool and check out the bar. I said it was up to you and I don't want to go back on my word, especially when it's your special night and we already couldn't have the dinner I promised ya." Nick stuffed his hands on his hips and vulnerably said, "If you really want to go, we'll go, but why do you wanna go?"

"I just want to go where we can be ourselves, have a few drinks and not be afraid to touch each other. After what we shared today, the last thing I want to do is stand two feet away from you all night." Greg gave him a nudge. "One drink. If you're uncomfortable, we'll go, I promise, but I really think you'll end up having a good time."

"Okay."

"See, you want to kiss me Cletus, but you can't out here in the hetero zone." Greg led the way. "Hold that thought."

---

Standing in his hotel room in front of the three vases of roses he had delivered, Gil remarked, "Yellow, pink and red, symbolic one and all. Yellow for the friendship we forged over the years. Pink expresses appreciation and I am eternally grateful that you gave me multiple chances at romance, which of course leads up to the red." Plucking a ruby rose from the vase, he soulfully said, "Only fresh cut flowers for the girl who said when describing the Cupid's Kiss wedding venue/murder scene 'Can the love be real when the flowers aren't?'."

"Nothing gets by you." Sara's smile filled the candlelit room.

"Later that day, Nick and Greg were trading theories on why you were so anti-romance when working that case. They called you a Tom Boy and suspected you weren't comfortable feeling girly and probably didn't own any lace." Raking his lover's lingerie clad body with hungry eyes, he said, "Seeing you lounging in bed wearing only that black lace gown, I'd say they were wrong."

"Actually, they were right," Sara laughed. "I just bought this at Nick's suggestion before driving out here to see you."

"Oh." Gil's lips spread into a grateful smile. "I'll make a point of thanking him then."

"So, are you going to stand there gawking all evening, or are you going to join me?" She patted the bed. "Your note said champagne and Shakespeare to follow." She lifted her glass. "I've got bubbly, but where's The Bard?"

Removing his jacket, Gil winked, "Hold that thought."

---

"There's the place," Greg excitedly announced when he saw the sign for Daffy's at the end of the row of restaurants and shops. He hoped that once his newly out partner visited the gay bar he would get a little more comfortable in his own skin.

Nick grabbed his buddy's elbow. "Hey, I've heard the thing about guys tapping their feet in the restroom stalls, but is there anything else I shouldn't do when I'm around gay guys?"

"Yeah, whatever you do, don't wave your right hand while patting your head with your left."

"Why?"

"Because everyone will think you're a retard," Greg laughed when he was on the receiving end of a scolding glare. "Cruising is all about eye contact. When a guy gives you his 'come hither stare', if you're interested, all you have to do is return the look, hold his gaze, and give a little nod or smirk. Then you both know there's a mutual desire to hook up. But why am I telling you this? You're not looking for action, because you've already had the best guy on the island today and besides that…"

"Faithful is my middle name, G, you've got nothin' to worry about, not tonight, not ever. I'm gonna be a one guy guy."

"For the record, my middle name is Hojem, which is Norwegian for 'I belong to Nick, so back off dude'."

"Good, because you've already seen me in a jealous rage, it isn't pretty."

"No shit, Tex, you scared the hell out of me."

"So we're in a committed relationship and we won't be with other people under any circumstances, no exceptions, do you agree?"

"I do," Greg responded before breaking in a goofy grin. "I guess that makes us unofficially unofficial partners for as long as we can stand each other or one of us dies. Hey, did we just exchange wedding vows?"

"Sounded like that, didn't it?" Nick laughed. "But we weren't even engaged first."

"That didn't stop 'Rick and Yoko from saying 'I do'."

"Yeah, and look how well that turned out." Noticing that they were next to a souvenir shop, Nick said, "Wait right here."

Before Greg could reply, his man disappeared into the store. "This should be good."

Two minutes later, Nick reappeared dangling the shell bracelet like the one Greg had tried on earlier in the day but didn't get to buy because the line was too long. "G…"

"Hey! Aren't you going to get down on one knee?"

Suddenly feeling silly, Nick huffed, "Just gimme your wrist, smart ass."

Greg pushed out a grin while pushing up his sleeve. "I'm sorry, please say what you were going to say, Mr. Old Fashioned Romance. I really want to hear it."

"No, the moment was lost." After he knotted the hemp cord around his partner's wrist, Nick winked. "Consider yourself engaged. Traditionally, you're supposed to use this period of time to decide if you really want to be stuck with me until the day you croak."

"I really can't imagine a better way to pass the time, but since we're going the traditional route and trying not to end up like 'Rick and Yoko, I promise to give it some serious thought and get back to you."

"Okay." Nick laughed at himself and the moment. "Sounds good."

"Hey." Greg grabbed his secret fiancé's hand and tugged him behind a huge tree for a quick, stealthy kiss. "Thank you. I love the bracelet, the sentimentality, and most of all you."

---

After freshening up in the bathroom and shedding his conference clothing, Gil approached the bed in his favorite navy blue robe. Holding up his favorite book of sonnets, he grinned, "I've got The Bard."

Sara fluffed their pillows and settled in for a reading. "What will I be treated to this evening?" She loved his voice, always had, but whenever he read poetry, she found it especially hypnotic.

"Sonnet 116," he revealed while sliding beside her. "Because it's about two people entering into a relationship anchored in trust and honesty. A love that is strong enough to stand the test of time, which I believe ours is in spite of recent bumps in the road or mutual insecurities."

Gazing into her man's eyes, Sara whispered, "I'm swooning and you haven't even read the first line."

"Let not the marriage of true minds admit impediments," Gil began in his most poetic voice. "Love is not love which alters when it alternation finds, or bends with the remover to remove: O no! It is an ever-fixed mark that looks on tempests and is never shaken; it is the star to every wandering bark, whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken. Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks within his bending sickle's compass come: love alters not with brief hours and weeks, but bears it out even to the edge of doom. If this be error and upon me proved, I never writ, nor no man ever loved."

"That was beautiful."

"As are you." Gil brought his mouth to Sara's and lingered a kiss over her parted lips. "I still want the undividable dog," he whispered as they Eskimo kissed, "but I felt another, more romantic gesture might be nice too." Reaching into his pocket, he said, "Since we don't want our relationship public, a diamond ring is out of the question, but I thought this piece was lovely." He presented the platinum bangle. "It's a love knot bracelet. I know it's a little Victorian, perhaps too possessive for a modern woman like yourself, but even though you'd be the one wearing it, I thought it was symbolic of us feeling equally bound to one another, so I hope you'll consider..."

"I'd love to wear it." Beaming a smile at the anxious man before her, Sara presented her wrist. "Would you slip it on me?"

"Shall I get down on one knee?" he queried in an anxious laugh.

"Let's not get too crazy," she answered before joining in the laughter.

With a shaky hand, Gil slid the bracelet over Sara's hand and once it was in place, he sealed it with a kiss.

"Thank you." After staring at her new bauble for a moment, Sara lifted her glassy eyes and murmured, "I love the gift, its symbolism, and you."

---

"Ready?" Greg asked, while admiring his new bracelet for the third time. "If we walk in together it sends a clear message."

Going against every natural instinct, Nick took his buddy's hand in public and reached for the bar's door. "Wait! What if we see someone we know in here?"

"Then we know they're gay too and we have a good laugh about it over beers. If you bump into someone else who is hiding it, you don't have to worry about them saying anything, and if you run into someone who is out, then you tell them you're not out and want it to stay that way. They'll respect that and won't say anything in mixed company."

"Right, sorry, I don't know why I'm gettin' worked up." Nick opened the door and pulled his buddy close. "Let's go, sweetheart," he laughed, "I'm dyin' to kick your ass at pool."

Greg replied under his breath, "Considering what you already did to my ass today, that seems a bit ruthless." The tense look on his lover's face was priceless. "God, I love tweaking you." He gently nudged Nick further into the bar. "They won't bite. Actually, I take that back, the guy in the leather vest probably would if you asked him to."

"Most of 'em look normal," Nick whispered. "I didn't expect that."

"Yep, there are a bunch of guys just like us in here." When Greg saw a forty-something wearing a pink satin shirt and a leopard print belt sashaying over, he chuckled, "Except him."

"Hi there! I'm Daffy!" The flamboyant man posed in front of the couple. "I'm the owner of this fabulous establishment. Are you two visiting the island or is it my lucky day and you're going to tell me you just moved here?" He glanced at the jocky one's ass. "Because Catalina Island is always looking for a few good men and mmm mmm, you're good, baby…all good."

Pointing to his pal, Nick snapped, "I'm with him." He showed the flamer that he was holding Greg's hand. "We're off the market."

"That's okay, beautiful, I'm just enjoying the view."

"Pardon my partner," Greg greeted the man while trying not to laugh at Nick who kept turning his body as Daffy perused it. "He was hiding in the closet with deadbolts on the door until yesterday. This is actually his first gay bar."

"Reeeeeally?" Daffy squealed. "Then we have to give him the VIP treatment!" He clapped his hands to get the attention of the regulars. "Everyone! This is…I'm sorry, I didn't get your name, sweetheart."

"Warrick," Nick answered in a deep voice.

"Would you stop!" Greg shoved him. "It's Nick, and I'm Greg, and we're on here on vacation until Saturday to answer your question."

"Everyone! This is Nick and Greg. Sadly, they're just visiting until Saturday, but while they're here, we need to treat them well, because Nick just stepped out of the closet ten seconds ago and this is his first queer night on the town." As the two dozen guys in the main room cheered and the shot boy on the bar danced his little heart out, Daffy clapped his hands and shouted to the bartender, "Get the newbie a fruity umbrella drink, Ty! With a cherry on a stick!"

Through a faux smile, Nick robotically informed his buddy, "This is fun."

Guiding his reluctant date toward the bar, Greg said, "You wanted to know when you'd get your official membership card, well…"

The laughing bartender slapped a fruity drink on the counter. "One Freshly Outed Queer with a Cherry on Top." He winked. "Welcome to the club."

As men all around him catcalled, Nick picked up the drink mumbling, "I'm definitely not in Kansas anymore. Thanks, everyone, you can go back to doin' whatever it was you were doin' now."

"Gimme that." Greg snatched the cherry on a stick. "You took mine, so I'm taking yours." After chomping the juicy red treat, he moaned in his partner's face, "Mmmmm."

Desperate to shake his nerves, Nick leaned in and whispered, "Bet it wasn't half as sweet as yours was this morning. Mmmmm."

"Oh! When in Rome, Cletus! When. In. Rome! There's the spirit!" The happy boyfriend rubbed his hands together. "Bartender! Dos Tecates y dos shots of Cuervo Gold, por favor! We have some celebrating to do here."

When he saw a few couples engaging in PDAs, Nick placed a smooch on his excited date's cheek. "Who loves ya, baby?"

"You do," Greg sighed as he whimsically spun a drink umbrella between his fingers. "And you better never stop."

"You know what they say…once you've had Greggo, you can never go back." Just as he was getting more comfortable, a young man wearing only tighty whiteys came strutting down the bar with two shot glasses and a bottle of tequila.

"You want it in glasses or directly in your mouth?"

Watching the guy grind, Nick politely answered, "Glasses would be great, thanks."

---

Strolling out of the PFLAG meeting holding hands, Dave said, "I feel much better, sweetheart. Thank you for dragging me here kicking and screaming."

"You're very welcome, dear," Jan was thrilled to see her husband unburdened. "I'm sure you'll feel even better when Greg and Nick come to dinner on Saturday and you see the love between them.

"I'm sure you're right." Dave checked his watch. "Feel like stopping for a drink? A new wine bar opened just down the block. I saw it a couple of weeks ago when I was having lunch with Parker. With a daughter on the way, we won't have as many date opportunities, so we really should take advantage."

Taking her man's elbow, the contented wife sweetly replied, "A little vino and romance sounds lovely, thank you for asking."

---

Plopping down on one of the couches in Daffy's pool room, Nick grabbed Greg's hand and pulled him close. "Those three shots of tequila hit the spot, didn't they, honey?"

"I'll say," Greg laughed as he settled into the corner of the sofa with a leg draped over Nick's thigh. "No more for me tonight though, because I don't want to get sick like I was after our double date from hell, especially not on a rocking boat."

"Yeah, let's stick to suds," Nick replied while continuing to study the bar's clientele as they waited for an open pool table.

"So, what do you think so far?"

"I'm kinda surprised how many of them are normal guys."

"It helps that we're in Catalina, a tame tourist spot. There probably wouldn't be a good bar here if Daffy hadn't retired on the island. The freak to normal ratio is a lot different in LA or San Francisco." Buzzing from the alcohol and the fun, Greg wore a goofy smile. "I knew coming here would make you feel more comfortable in the long run. I saw three different couples wearing matching rings and one of them was showing pictures of their kids. Now you know you're not the only old fashioned gay guy in America."

"Yeah." When Nick saw a muscle-bound thirty-something guy with wavy brown hair and a killer smile walk over holding a pool cue, he tensed. "Howdy." He made sure not to maintain eye contact or move any part of his body.

"Well, howdy to you too, Tex." The bronzed stud in the plaid flannel shirt and ripped jeans nodded and smiled. "I'm Houston born and raised, but I live in Cambridge Mass now, so I haven't howdied in a while, that was a blast from my redneck past. My partner and I saw you guys waiting for a table and thought you might want to play with us instead."

Patting his worried buddy's knee, Greg said, "Play pool, not hide the salami, so don't flip out."

"Are you the first-timer we heard Daffy yelling about earlier?" The friendly stranger laughed when the shy Texan nodded. "Sorry, didn't mean to freak you out. Ten years ago I was right where you are, believe me." When his partner returned with two bottles of Amstel, he waved him over.

"Hi," a cute, bookish man wearing an MIT sweatshirt and wire-rimmed glasses smiled at the couple. "Are you going to join our game?" He looked to his lover for names. "Did I miss the introductions, honey?"

Nick and Greg remained silent, staring at the unlikely couple.

The burly man grinned at the Texan and dropped a familiar phrase, "We've howdied, but we ain't shook yet, right?" He turned to translate for his Yankee lover. "That means we said hello but haven't been formally introduced." As the other couple stood, he extended his hand. "Pete Manning, firefighter and aspiring chef."

"Nick…um…Brown. Nice to meet ya." He returned the shake. "I was a cop back in Dallas, but I've been workin' CSI in Vegas for about nine years. This is my partner, Greg um..."

"Sanders. Nice to meet you." While trying not to laugh at the name 'Nick Brown', Greg said, "I'm a Chemist and DNA specialist working as a CSI in Vegas too. That's how Nick and I met, we work graveyard together."

"I thought I smelled geek!" The fellow nerd thrust out his hand. "I'm Dr. Kipling Maynard Scott III, but everyone calls me Kip. I'm a research Molecular Neurobiologist on the faculty at MIT. "

"Greg went to Stanford," Nick bragged as he stepped behind his partner and dropped his hands on his shoulders. "He just got his first paper published and is gonna start his Ph.D real soon."

Grinning from the feel of his lover's embrace and his complimentary words, Greg asked, "Are you guys here on vacation?"

"Yeah." Pete dropped his arm around his lover. "We flew to Southern California to celebrate our 3rd wedding anniversary. We were one of the couples who lined up in Cambridge for a license as soon as soon as the legislation was passed. We got ours at 12:43 am on May 17th. We were the third male couple."

"Wow." Nick shared, "My sister was there too."

"Your sister is a lesbian?" Kip queried. "Does she live in Cambridge? Maybe we know her."

"No, she was there as a protestor." Nick explained, "My family doesn't know about me. They're um…very conservative Christian Republicans with a heavy anti-gay marriage stance. I'm pretty sure they'll all flip out about me except for one of my sisters."

"Oh." Kip's smile faded. "That's rough. Peter can relate."

"Yeah," Pete empathized. "That's why I left the Lone Star state. My old man is as hetero as they come. He's a retired Marine officer. I'm his only son and I make him sick. My mom and sister still talk to me though. My mom comes up to Mass every summer. We rent a place on Martha's Vineyard. My sister and her husband come with my nieces and nephews for a week too; it's great. It took a while to get that comfortable though, just give 'em time and don't push them. Kip's parents are the opposite. I swear his mother would have cried if he wasn't gay. We're here because he grew up in San Diego and his family sailed to Catalina every summer. He wanted to show me the place."

Nick laughed at the coincidence. "That's exactly why we're here. Greg has his dad's boat and he's givin' me the childhood tour."

"Except for the local gay bar," Greg joked, "that wasn't on the childhood itinerary." Rubbing his hands together, he walked over to the table. "Thanks for askin' us to join your game."

Pete joked, "Do you want to play tops against bottoms? Jocks against geeks? Or Texans against California boys? Or are those all the same thing?"

"Yes, they are," Nick replied in a manly voice to confirm his position as a top.

"I'll rack," Kip announced. "Pete, why don't you grab a couple of beers for our new friends?"

"Great idea, be right back."

Greg jabbed his lover with a cue. "Everyone knows that pool is a game of science. It's all about trajectory and point of impact. I predict a strong geek win, jocko."

"You wish." Nick scoffed at the idea. "Care to wager somethin'?"

"I sure do." Greg leaned in to whisper, "Winner's choice when we get back to the boat." With a twinkle in his eye, he teased, "I hope your fellow Texan has a good game, or you'll find yourself on the receiving end of something very special tonight."

The sound of balls breaking startled Nick. "You're um…on."

Greg grabbed a beer from Pete's hand and winked at Nick. "Bottoms up!"

---

"A little harder, honey," Gil instructed through clenched teeth. "More. Deeper, really make it hurt."

Straddled on top of her man's thighs, Sara stopped in mid-stroke, "If I massage your shoulders any harder I'm afraid I'll rip them off." She grabbed the bottle of almond-scented oil she had been using. "Who knew you were so into S&M?" She coated her hands. "You don't have a secret membership at Lady Heather's, do you?"

Gil froze, recalling his one misspent night at the dominion. "Very funny," he replied, hoping to cover the tension in his voice with humor. "Okay, that's enough, that was wonderful, honey."

"I'm glad you liked it." She returned to the sheets grinning. "Is there another part of your body that you'd like me to work on?" With her index finger she traced a line from his goofy grin to his belly button. "We could try out our new 'honest living' policy while exploring each other's bodies."

After polishing off the last of the champagne, Gil excitedly replied, "Sounds like a stellar idea to me."

Buzzing from the bubbly she had consumed, Sara snuggled close. "Ladies first."

"But does the lady want to give or receive first?"

"You know what they say…" Sara placed a single kiss over Gil's heart. "It's better to give than receive." Through a grin, she reminded him, "Don't forget to tell me exactly what you like."

"Mmmm." Gil sank back into the pillows. "I like that," he sighed with delight as Sara's hair swirled over his chest on her way south. "And that." he threaded his fingers through her hair. "And ow!" he screamed, "Not that, what was that?"

"Sorry!" she tried not to laugh, but the champagne she had consumed was making it impossible. "The knot of my new love bracelet is caught in your hair down here."

"Ow!"

"Sorry!" Her free hand covered her mouth to stifle her laughter. "There's literally a bunch wound around the platinum knot." Glancing up she delicately asked, "Do you want me to tug, or should we head to the bathroom together and use my nail clippers to cut you free?"

"Nail clippers," Gil opted. "And keep your hand close while we're walking, so there's no pulling."

"Okay."

In the process of getting out of bed, they both ended up laughing hysterically.

"You bought me the bracelet because you love me," Sara reminded him, "so this isn't my fault, unless you want to blame me for being lovable."

After wincing from another accidental tug, Gil deadpanned, "They say love hurts. I believe them."

"My clippers are in my toiletry bag." Sara dipped her hand inside to fish them out. "Got 'em."

"One of the bulbs is burned out in here, do you have enough light? It's a jungle down there, you could easily cut my skin if you…"

"Let's move back over to the nightstand and use the lamp light."

"Good idea."

They did their delicate shuffle all the way back to the bed, shaking their heads in disbelief the entire way.

"Wait…I'm not left-handed," Sara remarked while handing over the clippers. "You should do it."

When Gil leaned in, he realized it was all a blur. "I can't see without my reading glasses."

"Where are they?"

"On the table."

"Let's go." Sara stood and waited for her man to shuffle with her.

"Really gives new meaning to the 'old ball and chain', doesn't it?"

"If this was on a sitcom, everyone would say it was too far fetched, and yet it's happening to us."

"Like my Jacuzzi tumble."

"We're apparently cursed," Sara stated while snatching her man's glasses from the table. "Here."

They slipped through Gil's hands and when he bent down to pick them up, he knocked heads with Sara who was also trying to pick them up. "Ow!"

"Ditto." Sara rubbed her scalp "Thankfully the guys aren't next door listening to us."

"On the count of three, we'll carefully bend down and pick up my glasses. "One…two…three." Once they were successfully in his hand, he slapped them on his face for safe keeping. "Okay, back to the bed."

When they arrived, Sara handed over the clippers. "Go for it."

Gil brought the small silver implement to the clump of tangled hair. "Don't move, because I have to get really close to the skin."

"Room service!"

"Oh!" Gil shrieked when he sliced open his flesh. "I got startled from the knock on the door just as I was snipping."

"It's the strawberries and whipped cream I ordered."

"Another example of romance causing me agony."

Now free, Sara rushed for her robe. "You're bleeding. Go take care of that while I get the door." Cinching the satin robe, she hurriedly answered on the third knock. "Hi."

"Everything okay in there?" the Room Service Waiter queried.

"My boyfriend stubbed his toe on the way to answer the door."

"I hate when I do that." He pointed to the table. "You want me to set it down right there, ma'am?"

"That'd be great." She handed over the signed bill. "Have a good evening." After shutting the door, she returned to the bathroom, "Are you okay?"

"I can't put a Band-Aid on it, because the area is covered in hair." Holding a wad of bloody toilet paper above his genitals, Gil droned, "You want me bad, don't you?"

"Terribly," she laughed. "And it was going so well."

"Is a romantic evening full of great sex really that much to hope for?"

"Apparently, when you're us, yes." She pecked his cheek. "There are blood drops everywhere. If there's ever a murder in this hotel room, your DNA will be found."

"I have bleach in my trunk."

"Now I'm worried," laughed the CSI who knew bleach was typically used to clean up after murders.

"You could strip for me," Gil puckishly suggested, "that might ease the pain."

"For you maybe," Sara retorted, "I'd be suffering from embarrassment though."

"Aww, I bet you could shake your ass with the best of them, honey."

Sara flashed a crooked smile. "That's very sweet, but no." Seeing her dejected man holding a clump of bloody tissue just above his almost-wounded wiener, she sighed, "Okay, okay, just one grind."

"I'll get my wallet," Gil snickered, happy that the evening wasn't a complete loss.

"Is this some kind of twisted fantasy of yours?"

"As a matter of fact, yes," Gil confirmed with a cheeky twinkle in his eyes. "I don't know why, but I have this recurring dream of you stripping for me while I yell 'shake it Boom Boom Sidle'. It's quite hot actually."

"Uh…" Gaping at her dollar-bill holding lover, she said, "Maybe total honesty in a relationship isn't the best policy after all."

---

Standing in the moonlight on the deck of The Freyja, Greg snickered, "Why do you look so nervous, Cletus? Would it have anything to do with you losing our little wager earlier?" He decided to have a little fun making his partner sweat before telling him he had no intention of asking him for sex.

"G, you know I'm a man of my word, but I'm um…"

"Nervous?" Greg finished as he walked over to the mini fridge in the cockpit wet bar.

"Hell, I'm trashed and it's not even helpin' me chill out."

Greg popped open the bottle top while whispering in his lover's ear, "Don't worry, I'll be gentle."

"Seriously, G." Nick shook his head. "Me bein' on the receivin' end for the first time is a serious thing, not somethin' we shoulda bet on. I'm sorry, I can't. I'm not ready to go there. I know you enjoyed it, but I may never really want to do it that way."

"Tsk tsk. You should know better than to assume, CSI Stokes." While holding his man's gaze, Greg smirked. "The bet was Winner's Choice. You're assuming I'd choose what you'd choose." He shook his head. "But I'm not."

"You don't wanna…"

"Nope." Greg handed over his beer. "Would you keep that handy for me?" Once his fingers were free, he used them to work open Nick's belt. His lips spread into a pirate's smile. "As hot as it is, I don't want your booty, Cletus." He captured his lover's mouth for a probing kiss that warmed their bodies in spite of the chilly night air. "You better hold onto something."

"Because the boat's rockin'?"

"No, because I'm going to rock your world," Greg replied in a rasp as he popped open the Texan's Levis. "I predict your knees will go weak after I've been down on mine for a thirty seconds."

"On your knees?" Nick's eyes widened to saucers. "Wh…what are you doing?"

"The one and only sexual thing that I know I have more experience doing than you, which makes it really fun for me." A dastardly laugh tumbled out of Greg's mouth as he shoved his edgy lover's jeans and briefs to his ankles.

"Ah!" The chill of the ocean air on the suddenly exposed parts of his heated body made Nick jump and his flesh prickle. "It's cold out here."

"On second thought," with drunken flair, Greg shoved his man to the white vinyl deck couch, "you need to sit."

"Wh...ah!" Nick gasped as his hot cheeks hit the frigid cushion. "Damn, that's freezing."

"You know how I told you that I went through a gay dance club phase?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I was perfecting my moves, but not on the dance floor, so you're in for a treat."

"I…I um…I don't think I can let you do this."

Greg leaned in to reclaim his partner's mouth for a series of vigorous kisses and persuasive comments. "I loved being with you in that bar tonight; being a couple in public. I loved how you jumped at the chance to tell Kip I went to Stanford and how you bragged about my paper. I loved how you stood behind me in the crowded room, holding me tight, and how you kissed me or touched me every time you left my side. There wasn't a guy in the place who didn't know I was yours" With their foreheads pressed together, he whispered, "I can't believe how much closer we are than when we hugged goodbye in Vegas. In less than a week we've gone from buddies to lovers. It's incredible, isn't it?"

Stroking Greg's cheek with his thumb, Nick said, "You're frickin' adorable when you're wasted and emotional, you know that?"

"It's all part of my geekish charm." Wearing a wild smile, Greg gushed a little more, "I'm crazy about you, like out of my mind picturing us together thirty years from now nuts about you kind of happy. Today was amazing…hearing you say you love me…having you inside me…watching you tie the shell bracelet around my wrist." When their eyes locked, his voice cracked, "Best damn day of my life."

"Mine too," Nick whispered without hesitation.

"That's why I want to get closer." Greg trailed kisses from Nick's ear, down his neck. "I need to get closer." He shoved up his lover's shirt and sweater so he could continue searing a direct path. "Let me…please," he whispered when he reached his waist. "Say yes."

"Yes." When the aggressive mouth roaming his body suckled his right hip, Nick pleaded, "Stop for a sec."

"What's wrong?" Greg queried while poised directly above his intended target.

"I…" The sight of his lover's succulent lips perched precariously above his hyper-aroused body evaporated his thoughts.

"Why did you ask me to stop?"

"Uh…" Gripping his head, Nick fought to retrieve his thought. "I wanted to say that I'm not sure I can return the favor, so if that's not okay with you…"

"It's fine with me," Greg murmured, intentionally breathing hot air over the object of his desire. "But if it's a problem for you, I'll stop." While waiting for an answer, he decided to boldly explore the most sensitive inches of Nick's body with his mouth.

"I…" Just when he thought his mind couldn't be blown any further than it already had been that day, Nick realized it could.

His wide eyes innocently peering over Nick's arousal, Greg quietly asked, "So, what's the verdict? Would you like me to stop?" When he saw a frantic head shake, he grinned, "That's what I figured."

"I'll warn you when…."

"All you have to do is sit back and relax," Greg stated through a smile.

Gasping for air, Nick stared at the stars and grappled yet again with the irony of something supposedly so wrong feeling devastatingly right. "That's," always one to enjoy the great outdoors and oral gratification, it was the ideal pleasure merger, "…so good." No one had ever done the deed with more zeal and skill than the man nestled between his thighs. "That's perfect," he whimpered while becoming increasingly verbally incapacitated. Opening his eyes, he enjoyed the view and the knowledge that the guy rocking his world loved him and wanted to be with him forever. Just last week he was lonely and living a lie and now he was in love and experiencing pure bliss. "Yessss." Weaving his fingers through the floppy mane before him, his lids fluttered shut. "G…" Moaning in delight, he sent a clear message that he was enjoying the thrill and the man providing it. "So close," he groaned out of habit shortly before seeing stars.

Knowing he had just given Nick another very compelling reason to keep him around for the rest of his life, Greg cracked a glorious grin and lunged for his beer. "Thanks for holding that for me."

Watching his partner take a hefty swig and wipe his mouth, the Texan panted, "In case I wasn't clear when I gave you the bracelet…it means I want to spend every damn day of my life with you going forward. Fuck it if we can't get married, we'll pick a date and do something special. Hell, we can exchange rings on the beach at sunset while your mother declares us husband and husband for all I care. Anything that means we're plannin' on it lastin' forever."

"Wow." Setting down his bottle, Greg chuckled, "I guess we know what Yoko was doing right before 'Rick drove her to the chapel."

Mutual riotous laughter shook the boat.

"C'mere." Nick pulled his lover onto the cushions, kissing him fiercely as they exchanged positions. "Any advice?" he nervously asked while furiously working open Greg's belt.

"In the fifty-two seconds I predict it will take, I really doubt you can go wrong, but…" After a shared laugh Greg softly said, "Just give whatever you like to receive. That part's simple, it's the end that takes some getting used to; it did for me anyway. I'll warn you and feel free to bail."

"Why the hell do you wear button flys, G?" Nick huffed. "It takes too friggin' long to get you out of them when I'm horny."

"Hetero perk number one…chicks wear skirts."

"Yeah, and the sluts I dated didn't wear panties under 'em."

"Ah!" Greg lifted his bare butt as soon as it hit the frigid cushion.

"I told you that vinyl was cold!"

"It's okay." Reaching out, Greg ran his fingers through Nick's wind blown hair and changed to a lusty tone. "I'm sure you'll warm me up real fast."

Just like that, the nerves were back. "Uh…"

"Fifty-two seconds, Cletus. I'll close my eyes, that'll take some of the pressure off." Smirking, Greg relaxed against the cushions and shut his lids. "My first time, I pretended I was doing it to myself." After waiting for what felt like an eternity, he felt the tiniest butterfly kiss brush over the most sensitive square inch of his body and gasped, "Make that thirty-two seconds."

Twenty-seven seconds later, Greg was panting and handing Nick his beer bottle.

After polishing off the rest of the Corona, Nick laughed, "I feel really bad for givin' girls shit about not wantin' to finish. That last part's a little harder than I thought. How was I? Be honest."

"It's an art form, and just like Michelangelo didn't paint the Sistine Chapel on his first day holding a brush…"

"That bad huh," Nick had to laugh at himself.

"Not at all." With a silly smile on his face, Greg joked, "You were definitely unsure of yourself and you got a little choked up at the end, but you definitely accomplished what you set out to do. You just need some more practice, the more the better. How does thirty minutes from now sound?" He pulled his lover close, murmuring, "All kidding aside…thank you, it was fantastic, because I know that was a huge step outside your comfort zone."

"Yeah." Nick pecked his grateful lover's lips. "But it was my pleasure and I'm definitely looking forward to workin' on my technique…just not in thirty minutes."

"That was a joke." During an Eskimo kiss, Greg whispered, "Are you getting sleepy?"

"Yeah."

"Me too."

"Come on." Nick tugged Greg to his feet and waited for him to fix his clothes. "Let's go to bed. We have another great day together to look forward to tomorrow."

"Mmmm," Greg took his hand. "I like the sound of that."

---

"You were terrific, honey," Gil teased as he watched his flushed lover extract dollar bills from her thong.

"Anything to put a smile on a wounded guy's face."

"You're a regular USO girl."

"And you're a big tipper." Shaking her head, Sara pulled a ten from her cleavage. "I can't believe I just did that."

"Give me your bracelet."

"Why?"

He held up a pair of tweezers. "I was going to remove my pubic hair from it."

"Really?" Sara burst out laughing. "But I was hoping to keep it there to commemorate this wonderful romantic night."

"I'm sorry it's not going well."

Dipping a strawberry in whipped cream, Sara quieted her laughter. "It's going great actually. All the stress from earlier today is gone." She dangled the berry. "What about you?"

"What doesn't kill me, makes me stronger, and so far sex with you has only maimed me." He happily allowed her to feed him the fruit and cream. "Mmmm."

"Are they good?" When he nodded, she teased, "Since they caused you to lose out on a good time and some blood, they should at least be delicious." Dipping her finger in the cream, she brought it to her lover's mouth. "Think you're still up for a little fun if I avoid your sensitive area?"

"But if you avoid my sensitive area, I won't have any fun." He snickered, "Oh! You meant my wound. Mmmm," he smacked his lips after enjoying the cream on her finger. "Yes, I'm up for it." He wiggled his brows. "Can't you tell?"

"Yes, I can." Grabbing the bowl of whipped topping, she strolled over to the bed. "By the way, I didn't order this to use with the strawberries, I'm using it on you."

"Ooh." Like an excited little boy, Gil slid onto the mattress. "I like the sound of this."

---

"Cold?" Nick asked when he saw Greg rubbing his hands together.

"I'll be okay once I'm under the covers with you."

"Do you…" Nick reached for the chiming cell phone on the nightstand. "It's your mom according to the caller ID."

Still drunk, the smart ass son snatched the cell, put it on speaker and answered, "I'm sorry, Greg is too busy making hot monkey love with Nick to come to the phone right now, but if you leave a message, he'll call you back as soon as he crawls out from under his sexy cowboy, peels the liquid latex off his body, and pulls his favorite pair of purple love beads from his butt."

"Sweetheart!" Jan giggled and joked with her boy, "Nicky is supposed to pull the beads from your butt, not you. That's what makes using them fun. Jeeeeez, I'm tired of teaching you everything, didn't you read the gay guide book I left on the book shelf above the bed?"

Nick hurried to find it.

Watching his partner hold up the oversized DK Ultimate Gay Sex book, Greg laughed as he crashed onto the bed. "Jan, why are you calling me on my honeymoon?"

Flipping open the text, Nick gasped, "Holy shit, this thing is full of pictures."

"You got married?" the frantic mother shrilled. "Without me there? How could you, Gregory?"

"Breathe, Jan, breathe." Greg ended her panic, "I'm kidding." Holding up his wrist he admired his bracelet once more. "But I did get engaged."

"Really?"

"Really." Speaking as if Nick wasn't there, Greg spoke in a dreamy voice, "He slipped a shell-fragment bracelet on my wrist and popped the question." Exchanging ecstatic grins with his partner, he said, "It only cost ten bucks, but to me, it's priceless, just like him. I'm supposed to be using this time to seriously consider if I can spend the rest of my life with him, but I already know the answer is yes. It's the real deal, Mom, just like you and dad. And I know we'll make it, because it's like you said at dinner the other night, we're already best friends and compatible roommates, the only thing we had to find out was whether or not we enjoyed getting physical and believe me, we've been proving that for the past forty-eight hours."

"Aww." Jan sniffled into the phone. "Your father will be so happy to hear he's getting the jock son he always wanted."

"Why did you call, Mom?"

"Oh! I wanted to know what time to expect you boys on Saturday."

"Probably about three." Greg's suspicions grew. "Wait…you're not planning anything funky are you?"

"No, not at all. Your father and I were invited to a PFLAG luncheon that day and wanted to make sure we were back in time."

"Dad went to the PFLAG meeting with you?" Greg said in surprise.

"Yes, he had a wonderful time with the other fathers there. He's playing golf with three of them on Friday."

"That's so cool. Tell him thanks for me."

Knowing his father wouldn't be caught dead at a PFLAG meeting Nick mouthed the word 'lucky'.

"Hey, I have to run, okay. I'll call you tomorrow, Mom. I love you."

"I love you too, Greg. Good night."

After turning off the cell phone, Greg slid over to Nick. "You heard what Pete said earlier. He never thought his mother would come around, but she did and now she visits him every summer."

"Yeah." Nick forced a smile. "I don't want to get bummed out thinkin' about all that before bed, okay?"

"Okay." Greg snuggled up close to read the book along with his lover. "Whatcha reading about?"

"Relationships. It says when a relationship first begins it's totally normal to be obsessed with foolin' around with your new partner to the point where it feels like you never leave the bedroom. That guys are obsessed with sex to begin with, thinkin' about it ten times an hour on average, so when you get a new partner, it's natural for a guy to want to want to be with him all the time and think about it twenty times an hour. That's a huge relief," Nick laughed, "because it's all I can think about and I thought I had a problem. Comin' back here on the dinghy I wanted to throw the guy drivin' the boat overboard so I could pounce on you. Seriously, we just finished not thirty minutes ago and I'm sittin' here hopin' you changed your mind about goin' to sleep."

"Consider it changed, cowboy." To confirm his interest, Greg grabbed the book and quickly flipped through its pages. "Ooh, wanna try that?" He pointed to the color picture. "What do you think?"

"Oh, yeah, that'll do just fine," Nick excitedly answered before covering his lover's mouth with his and tumbling their bodies. "I can't believe we only have a couple of days left."

"We'll make the most of it." Greg gasped when he felt a cold hand dip under the waistband of his boxers. "Jeeeeez, to think you wouldn't even touch me three days ago."

"Mmmm, let's not leave the boat tomorrow," Nick suggested while tugging off his lover's boxers. "We've got plenty of food and beer. We can watch movies during recovery periods."

"My dad's Levitra is in the medicine cabinet, if we take some of that, we won't have down times."

"Ha!" Nick pondered the possibility. "How about we try that tomorrow after a good night's sleep."

"You're on." Greg loved the playfulness. "Hey, we don't actually have to leave until about two on Friday to make our spa appointments, so that gives us about a day and a half on the boat."

Thrilled by the news, Nick pressed their heating bodies together. "Perfect."

---

"That was a little messier than I imagined," remarked Sara as she tried to run her fingers through her tangled tacky hair. "Really sticky and kind of gross after it dries up." She tapped her face and her fingers stuck for a second. "Really not as fun as I thought. They make it look so hot and glamorous on TV or in the movies, but really it's just…a little nasty. Don't you think?" She sniffed. "I need to get in the shower, I'm starting to smell like sour milk. Yuck." She glanced around. "It's all over the sheets too. We'll have to call housekeeping for fresh ones. What a pain." She sighed, "So not worth it, huh?"

"Did you say something, honey?" Staring at the ceiling with a smirk of satisfaction on his face, Gil sighed, "Sorry, I'm a little out of it, because that was so…perfect."

***

Chapter 31: How Far We've Come…

Sitting in bed with a laptop between them, Gil and Sara perused the dogs available for adoption from the Project Home Sweet Home, a no-kill animal shelter in Long Beach. One of the hotel employees who volunteered there had recommended it upon overhearing them discuss dog adoption at lunch the previous day.

"Look at him." Sara pointed to a pouting boxer on the screen. "He's a big adorable dope. I can easily picture him following you around the house and laying at your feet while you lose yourself in your office for hours."

Gil lifted his eyes from the screen. "Thanks, I think."

"What?"

"Why would I be a perfect match with a big dopey dog?" he half-laughed.

Sara didn't miss a beat. "Because a smart dog would feel threatened by your brilliance of course."

Gil rolled his eyes. "Nice cover."

"I certainly can't picture us with a yappy little dog who never stops running around the house, can you?"

"Hardly." He returned his gaze to the screen. "It says his previous owner gave him up when he moved out of town."

"I know just how poor Bruno there feels," Sara sighed.

After watching his loved one stare at the dog's wide, sad eyes for a moment, Gil reached for his cell. "It says they open at eight and it's ten after."

Sara's face lit. "You're calling about him?"

He nodded as the shelter worker answered. "Hello, my name is Gil Grissom, I was referred to your organization by Mindy Millwater. I'm on your website looking at a photo of a boxer named Bruno and was wondering if he's still there?"

When Sara saw her man nod, her spirits soared.

"Can we come in and see him this morning? See if he's a good match?" Gil nodded to let Sara know the answer was yes. "About nine-thirty then. Thank you." He clicked the phone shut. "They'll have him bathed and ready to say hello when we get there. She's also prepping a few other similar dogs just in case we don't hit it off with Bruno."

"I have a gut feeling we will."

Gil glanced at the screen. "Me too. I feel like I already know him from another life."

"Thank you." Sara tackled her man against the bedding and straddled his hips. "Would you like me to show my appreciation?" she half-joked.

"I'll consider the offer. Yes." He pulled her close and rolled their bodies.

"Watch the laptop."

"I can afford a new one," he growled while shedding his pajama bottoms in haste.

"Afraid I'm going to change my mind if you hesitate?" she teased while wrapping her long legs around his back.

"Busted." Gil confessed as he merged their bodies. "Mmmm." He pulled in a jagged breath. "I should have offered to buy you a dog the first day you got here." Rubbing their noses together, he talked himself out of finishing in record time. "I love you, Sara."

"I love you too, and not just because you're buying me an undividable dog or because you gave me a pubic-hair remover…I mean bracelet." After a shared laugh, she finished her sentiment. "I love you because you love me and no one has ever done that before, at least not well anyway. Thank you for loving me."

"Thank you for loving me and my roaches, no one has ever managed to do both." His heart pounded in his chest as he sprinkled kisses on every part of Sara's body he could reach. A few minutes later he realized she was lost in thought, instead of passion. "You're thinking about the dog and not the loving, aren't you?"

Her lips sliding into a smile, she nodded. "Sorry. I've wanted a dog for so long, I can't help it. But don't rush, take your time, it feels good, I'm just preoccupied and you don't need to worry about me finishing."

"Sara…" He chuckled, "Men only take their time to satisfy the woman they're with. Pull the woman out of the equation and we race to the finish line, so we can regroup and get ready to do it again."

"Oh. Thanks for the candid lesson on male sexuality," she laughed. "I feel honored that you shared one of the club secrets. I guess I know how Nick and Greg have been spending their vacation time since they don't have a woman's needs to worry about."

"People think gay men are perverts because they have sex all the time, but the truth is all men would have sex all the time if women's libidos were up to the task. If hetero guys could go to a bath house full of hot women who would do anything they wanted with no strings attached, society would grind to a halt because men would be there, instead of work. That's why I always find disgust for those places amusing. We'd all dabble if society gave us permission to go…until of course we found the person we wanted to spend the rest of our lives loving, then there would be no point."

"Nice cover."

"Mmmm, I thought so too." Wrapping his hand around Sara's wrists he gently pressed them to the mattress. "Dress us up, teach us to read, but at the end of the day…we're still animals, and all creatures great and small have the same primal urges." He deepened his stroke. "The same base needs." He lowered his voice. "The same primitive call of the wild rings in our ears when we see the object of our desire."

"I'm uh…" She cleared her throat. "Officially turned on."

"Not thinking about the dog anymore?"

"Wh…what dog?" she joked while digging her short nails into her lover's back. "We're getting a dog?"

"Yes," he growled in her ear.

Closing her eyes, Sara purred, "The dog can wait."

---

When Greg felt a moist pair of lips dropping kisses on his bare shoulder, he stirred from slumber.

"Hey there, Sleepin' Beauty," Nick teased while spooning him. "It's time to wake up."

"That feels nice." Although his partner was a tough guy on the job, he was a teddy bear when it came to snuggling, and in a matter of days, Greg had grown completely addicted to his affection. "Mmmm." He kept his eyelids shut and savored the slow, wet smooches and tender caresses. "Don't stop."

"Just for few minutes, because you have to get up."

"What time is it?"

"Nine. I've been awake for almost an hour. I tidied up real good, put away the dishes, cleaned the counters, and stowed all the linens we washed at the Laundromat yesterday." He sweetly chuckled directly into his lover's ear, "Your parents will never know how hard we partied."

"Are you kidding? We've probably been on a WebCam this whole time."

"Do you know you have me so paranoid, I actually checked out that vintage stuffed Shamu on the shelf for a hidden camera."

"My daddy bought me that when I was six."

"Aww."

"Speaking of my dad…he'll know how hard we partied when he realizes we swiped the last of his Levitra." Greg grinned while trying to force his eyes open. "I'll need to tell him, because it would suck for him to find an empty bottle when he needed it most…or when my mom needed him most, I guess is more accurate."

"Yeah."

"Mmmm…I could sleep all day."

"I know, but you gotta get up." Nick began vigorously caressing Greg's body. "You said you wanted to leave by ten-thirty, remember? Your parents are expectin' us."

"At three." With his eyes still shut, the groggy man flipped onto his back and snickered, "Just admit this a booty call, Cletus."

Grinning, Nick blanketed his partner's body with his. "This is your booty call wake up call." He carefully aligned their bodies. "Rise and shine, baby."

"With you grinding into me like that, rising is imminent."

"Yep, that's my plan."

When Greg finally opened his weary eyes he was treated to Nick's sunniest smile. "Good morning." It was exactly the way he wanted to wake every day for the rest of his life.

"Mornin', G." After a flirty kiss, Nick sighed, "It's our last day in paradise."

"Nah, every day with me is gonna be paradise, you'll see." Greg cracked a huge grin. "I'm feeling extra sappy this morning apparently."

"Me too. Probably 'cause we had such a great day yesterday with the romantic dinner and the couples massage."

Greg rolled his eyes. "The couples massage that we didn't know was a couples massage thanks to my smart ass mother." Jan had secretly reserved the 'romance spa package' for them, which included a side-by-side candlelit treatment and private time in the Deluxe Champagne and Chocolate Relaxation Room where they were told it was okay to 'really unwind' because no one would be back for an hour.

"I still can't believe I went with the flow at that spa." All the female employees had fawned over 'the hot gay couple' doing the romance package. "It really didn't bother me." In between kisses, Nick shared, "And today I woke up with this great sense of calm about everything. I almost got up the nerve to call and come out to my sister Gwen, but I chickened out at the last minute." He tapped their noses together. "I made you breakfast instead."

"Oh yeah?" Greg playfully asked while gripping the strong shoulders he loved to have looming over him. "Did you make me something yummy?"

"MmmHmm." Feeling the body below his coming alive, Nick said, "Thankfully I had the foresight to make somethin' that'll keep." While praying the answer would be yes, he softly asked, "Are you up for makin' love this mornin'?" He didn't want to push him, but it had been about thirty-five and half hours (not that he was counting) and he thought he might be ready for another round.

"Yeah, I was really hoping to fit in our third time before we left." Greg snickered, "Because it'll give us a lot more to discuss with my mother at dinner."

"I sure hope you're jokin'." Shaking his head, Nick rolled off his lover's body and opened the nightstand drawer. "Do you want…"

"Wait."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Greg sheepishly said, "I just need to um… I just want to uh…just give me about five minutes, okay?"

"Look at you, you're real cute when you're shy," Nick teased, "and you almost never are, Mr. Uninhibited who walks around naked and talks to his mommy about sex."

After laughing with his mate, he playfully asked, "How much do you love me, Cletus?"

"With all my heart," The enamored man answered without hesitation. "That's the one piece ofinformation about our love life that you can share with your mom." He changed to his most authentic twang to joke, "You know, I think I'm gonna do things real proper like when we get to Santa Gabriel later. I'm gonna tell your daddy I'm crazy about you and ask for your hand."

"What if he says you can't have me?"

"Then I'll have to use my redneck shotgun to change his mind." The Texan winked, "Now mosey along and powder your nose, pardner, because suddenly I want it more than ever."

"You want my nose?" Greg laughed as he jumped from the bed. "Eww. A nose fetish? That's kinda nasty. I don't know if I can roll with that."

"I don't want your nose, I want your cute little ass, which I'm gonna smack when it gets back here, because you're always pickin' on me!"

From the bathroom Greg yelled, "What's that? You want to watch me picking my nose? Freak!"

"Smart ass," Nick mumbled as he tossed supplies on the bed. When he thought back to their first time and how nervous he had been, it seemed a lifetime ago, not four days. Their second and far less nerve-wracking time had been Thursday night, so this would be their third, and he fully expected it to be a charm. In between making love, they had grown infinitely closer by exploring each other's bodies in a variety of ways. They worked through the pages of their guide book, which had become a great running joke between them, producing such phrases as 'Let's Page 120 until dinner's ready' or 'I could really go for some Page 114 right about now'. In the last forty-eight hours they had experienced outstanding passion, as well as some awkward moments and hysterical bloopers. Thankfully they both took the blunders in stride, able to laugh at themselves and each other, rather than feel self-conscious or embarrassed.

In record time, Nick had gone from not being able to touch a man, to craving every inch of the one he adored. It helped that his loving partner had made every minute, even the awkward ones, comfortable and fun. Intimacy with Greg was a world apart from his experiences with women, which had been fraught with performance pressure, outrageous bravado, and feigned emotions. He was thrilled that his fake love life had been replaced by something too wonderful to accurately describe with words, and he was ecstatic to have a future with a loving, adventurous man who made him feel incredibly safe and highly desirable.

Relaxing against the pillows, he breathed in Greg's familiar scent and savored the peace that commitment and monogamy were bringing him. He loved having someone to hold as he drifted off to sleep and he slept well knowing that his companion would be around when he woke. Just like him, Greg would wake grateful to be alive and together, thankful that their lives hadn't ended before they got to this beautiful part. They had so much in common, but it was their outlook on life being too short and their mutual desire to cherish each day left, that would always keep their priorities straight and their happiness maximized

For a guy raised under a serious roof, the silliness was a nice change of pace too. Life with Greg was never dull and Nick was valuing his goofiness and unconventionality a little more every day. Like his zany conversations with Jan, his perpetual sneaking of dessert before meals, and his penchant for nudity even at inappropriate times like dinner. The conservatively raised Texan was covered in figurative bruises from being pushed outside the box all week. Greg knew just how to shove him right…not too much or too fast, and never far enough to make him lose himself completely. There were times he had to say no, like when Greg challenged him to go without clothes all day Thursday. He insisted on wearing underwear at the kitchen table and he always sat on a towel in the living room.

While enjoying the gentle rocking of the boat, Nick prayed to God, who he truly believed still loved him, asking for only one thing…that the relationship he had come to value more than his own life would hold together after returning to Vegas.

"Penny for your thoughts," Greg said when he slipped into bed next to his daydreaming man. "You looked a million miles away just now."

"Get over here, Spanky." Nick flipped his smart ass partner onto his stomach and carried out the punishment he had promised.

"Hey, don't stop at two," Greg laughed. "I like it and I've been a very naughty boy."

"It's ridiculous, but the smell of your Irish Spring soap drives me wild."

The scientist teased in his best Leprechaun voice, "B'gosh and b'gorrah of course it does, lad, that smell means you're gonna get lucky. It's Pavlovian Conditioning at its finest. I keep cleaning up with Irish Spring right before we fool around, so now you associate the scent with the pleasure that follows. Going forward, you'll probably get a hard on walking down the soap aisle in the grocery store."

Nick flashed a brilliant smile. "You're probably right."

"Hey." Greg rolled onto his back. "Let's try it like this." He tugged Nick on top of him. "I want to look into your eyes and feel the love." He chuckled, "Alright, I'll be honest, I also want to enjoy the view and watch your muscles flex, jocko."

"I certainly don't have a problem with you enjoyin' the view, but…" Nick brushed the rest of his words over his lover's radiant smile, "The book said it can be uncomfortable like this until you're more used to it. I don't know what I'm doin' either, I could hurt you."

"You're such a perfectionist, Cletus. Don't worry about it doing it well, just do it." Reaching for the bottle, Greg sweetly assured his thoughtful partner, "I'll tell you if it's too much."

Once again, Nick let himself be thrust outside his comfort zone. "Okay." He placed a single juicy kiss in the center of his partner's chest to kick off the foreplay and by the time he reached his lover's belly button, he was raring to go.

"Ahhh, I'm so ticklish right there." As his breathing quickened, Greg busied his own hands about Nick's body, racing his fingers through his hair and caressing his biceps and back. In between muffled gasps, he reminded himself to relax and after a couple of minutes, he confidently reached for the condom he saw poised on a bed pillow.

"You're rushin'"

"I'm good." Greg tore open the packet with flair. "All that fooling around we've been doing has helped me learn how to relax quickly." He tossed the empty wrapper and threw his feet up onto his lover's shoulders. "Is this comfortable for you?"

"Yeah, but I can't believe you're comfortable like this."

"I'm extremely limber. It's genetic. In Norway my people were circus contortionists."

"Bullshit."

"It's all true! Come here," Grinning, Greg lunged for a kiss.

"You're crazy, you know that?"

"About you, yeah." Greg relaxed against the sheets, "Come on, make love to me, Cletus. Don't make me beg."

Eyes locked, fingers dug into each other's flesh, the world around them soon melted away and it didn't resurface until they were finished and gasping ten minutes later.

"That position's a keeper," Greg blurted while holding his head.

"No shit," Nick laughed once his power of speech was restored. "That was just like I always thought sex should be when I was with a woman, but never was. You know, lookin' in each others eyes and feelin' that buildin' intensity while we paw at each other. Watchin' the ecstasy grabbin' us and pushin' us over the edge while we panted and growled in each other's faces like animals."

"Wow, maybe you should write trashy romance novels in your spare time. You just got me revved up for Round 2."

Nick pulled way laughing, "Sorry, we polished off the Levitra, remember?"

"That's what I get for falling for an old geezer," Greg teased. A second later, a towel landed on his face and he laughed harder. "I'm having too much fun to go home! Let's quit LVPD and do the Mexico retirement thing. Will catch fish for dinner and drink tequila for breakfast. What do you say, Cletus?"

"I say no," Nick replied with a wink when he moved the towel. Sliding it over his grinning lover's chest with care he abruptly turned serious, "I don't want to run. I want to return to Vegas and face my demons, all of them. With you by my side I know I can do it. After I get my job back and am on my feet for a while, I want you to come to Dallas with me." He rolled the used towel in his hands while breathing deep. "I'll tell my parents with you there and let the chips fall where they may." Their locked eyes, he shared, "I'm done apologizing for the way God made me. If my family has a problem with it, so be it. You're the most important member of my family now, G."

Realizing that his wishes for Nick had come true, that he would be returning home relaxed and ready to deal with his issues, Greg filled with pride. "That's…I'm really impressed and touched by what you said."

"Thanks, but…" The changed man initiated a tender kiss before finishing his thought. "I owe it all to you."

"Hey…" Greg propped up on his elbows and injected some humor. "Before we face your Vegas and Dallas demons, we have to face the she-devil in Santa Gabriel. Who knows what my mother has in store for us this afternoon."

Heading for the shower, Nick groaned, "I can't wait."

---

While waiting to meet Bruno in the small lobby of Project Home Sweet Home, Sara studied the adoption photos on the wall. "They've had 211 successful placements since they opened."

Standing behind his anxious mate, Gil placed his hands on her shoulders and confidently said, "They'll hit 212 today." Seeing the excitement in Sara's eyes, he couldn't imagine leaving without a dog.

"Here's Bruno!" Karen Malloy, the forty-seven year old adoption coordinator/dog lover announced while walking the lovable Boxer into the room. "Can you believe someone would give this sweetheart away?" She knelt down at eye level. "Who's a big sweet boy? Are you a big sweet boy?"

The dog responded with a loud, smelly fart.

"Brunnnno," Kacie sighed, "we had a long talk about flatulence turning off prospective parents, didn't we?" She glanced up. "He only does it when he's nervous." She tried not to choke on the fumes. "I think it's kind of sweet, don't you?"

Just as Gil was about to say 'next', the love of his life rushed to the intestinally-challenged dog's side with open arms.

"We'll take him!" Sara knelt down to scratch the pup's head. "I know it's hard putting on a show every time you're told prospective parents are coming." Gazing into his big brown eyes, she nodded, "Gives a kid an ulcer after a while, huh? Yeah."

Reaching for his wallet, Gil asked, "Do you take Visa?"

"We sure do." Karen walked to the counter. "You already filled out all the forms online and I didn't see any problems, so we'll get you processed in no time."

"Great." He walked over and crouched beside Sara and Bruno. "A match made in heaven."

"Is that your stealthy way of saying I have a gas problem?"

"No comment." Gil laughed and scratched the pooch's head. "A four hour drive with a hyper-flatulent dog. The things I do for love."

Bruno responded with a tortuously long fart that had Sara covering her nose. "Good thing we're used to dealing with bad smells in tight places."

---

"Dude!" Sitting in the passenger seat of Nick's truck, Greg waved his hand in front of his nose. "What's with the farting? You ate the same stuff I did, and…"

"Sorry." Nick's cheeks flushed. "I'm nervous about going to your parents' house and sometimes when I'm nervous, I get gas."

"Is that why your coffin exploded?"

"That's so not funny," Nick replied before laughing. "Okay, yeah, it is."

"Good thing it's a short drive." While clamping his nose with his fingers, Greg said in a nasally voice, "Don't sweat it, okay. My dad told me he asked Jan to ease up."

"Yeah, but does she listen to your father? Stop pluggin' your nose! You're a CSI, you're not supposed to be bothered by strong odors!"

Laughing, Greg released his nose as ordered. "My mom wants things to work out between us, so she won't do anything to piss you off. If she's on your nerves, just say 'I don't know if I can fit into this wacky family' and she'll back off."

"Good to know."

Greg held up his left arm and wiggled his wrist. "But I know you won't break our engagement no matter how much she embarrasses you, because you lovvvvve me, Cletus. You love my witty personality, my unconventional good looks, my listening and counseling skills, my gourmet cooking, and most of all…" He smacked his left cheek. "You love my tight little ass."

"True, very true," Nick kept a straight face, "but I'd also include your willingness to drop to your knees and rock my world twice a day. That's a biggie."

"You do realize that was me in vacation mode, right?" Greg said with notable concern in his voice. "As much as I enjoy rocking your world, after pulling double shifts..."

"I was kiddin', G, I really didn't think we'd keep up our four orgasms a day pace once we were back to reality." Nick winked at his lover, "I think once a day is doable though, don't you? Except for really exhausting work days, of course."

"Definitely." Greg flicked the mirror closed. "But on days off, we should aim for two."

"Sounds good to me." Nodding in agreement, Nick said, "We need to sit down with Griss and work out a plan to have the maximum number of days off together."

"Too bad Grissom opposed the twelve hour shifts/weekends off plan that Ecklie suggested last year. He wanted to convert the Swing staff to weekend staff and augment with interns. I thought it was a great idea."

"Only Griss would oppose Saturday nights off." Nick grumbled, "Just like he doesn't do the team vacation break like Days and Swing, but we have to cover for them when they take advantage twice a year. That sucks. When those guys return after not seeing each other or the place for a week, they're totally refreshed."

"Maybe now that he's living with Sara he'll change his mind. They're going to want to take a vacation together at some point and it'll look real obvious if they're always taking the same weeks off. Putting Grave in the vacation rotation would guarantee them a week twice a year."

"We should have Sara convince him."

"Yeah," Greg laughed. "Maybe she can threaten to withhold BJs."

"Don't make me think of Sara on her knees with Grissom, that's just…" Nick shivered. "It's just gross, like thinkin' of parents doin' it."

---

"How much longer, Daddy?" Sara asked in Bruno's voice. Sitting next to the frequent-farter in the back seat, she was certain she'd pass out from the fumes.

"Would you like to trade places?"

"No, I'm good." She scratched the snoozing dog's head. "He's finally starting to relax."

"Good. We're twenty minutes from the house," Gil laughed. "I just realized we don't have any supplies for him. All we have is his leash and collar. We need dishes, food, treats, a lot of things."

"There's a Petsmart at that strip mall on Dodson. You're allowed to bring your dog with you while you shop, so we don't have to worry about him sitting in a hot car." She gave Bruno a vigorous scratch. "If we have him with us, he can pick out his own toys."

"But my roaches can't sit in the hot car."

"You can bring the jar in and put it in our cart."

"Okay, I suppose we could do that." Gil signaled to turn left. "Petsmart first, then home."

---

"Here we are!" Greg pointed straight ahead. "The English Tudor home in the middle of the cul-de-sac."

"Wow! That's a really cool house, G." It was probably average for this Southern California neighborhood, but the architecture and the grounds were extraordinary. "Jenni's going to be in for a real shock living here after living in her old neighborhood, huh?"

"No kidding. The house is only 3300 square feet, but it sits on a prime acre. The backyard is amazing. It was built in 1935 and my mom totally redecorated when they bought it. Just pull in the driveway next to my mom's car."

"What is that?"

"An electric red BMW Z4 Roadster Convertible. You should see her zipping around town, it's a trip. She gets a speeding ticket every six months like clockwork. She's been to Traffic School enough times to teach the class."

"My mom drives a white Volvo sedan and will proudly tell you that she's never had a moving violation in her entire life."

When Greg saw his mother appear on the front lawn with her video camera, he sighed, "We're already being filmed."

"What doesn't kill me makes me stronger," Nick confirmed as he parked the truck. "I survived bein' buried alive, I'll survive this." When he saw the writing on Mrs. Sanders t-shirt said 'Proud PFLAG Parent. - I love my gay son and you should too!' he took a steadying breath.

"Hey, Mom." Knowing the drill, Greg shut the truck door and walked forward waving to the camera. "Where's Dad?"

"He's putting on his new t-shirt."

"Hi, Jan." Nick smiled for the camera. "Thanks for havin' my truck waitin' for us at the dock."

"Anything for the man who loves my little boy!"

Nick cringed from the pedophilic sound of the statement.

"Get closer you two!" Jan directed! "Arms around each other and big smiles." As they complied, she squealed with excitement. "Now wave to the camera." Speaking clearly she narrated, "This is a very special day for the Sanders clan. Greg is bringing his fiancé Nick Stokes home for the first time. Kiss for the camera, boys! But no tongue, just a regular one, I want it G-rated."

Greg spoke through his plastered smile, "I promise to reward you for humoring her, Cletus."

"Are they here?" Dave raced to the front lawn wearing his custom made 'I'm getting a Jock-Son-in-Law for Christmas' t-shirt.

"Did you lose a bet, Dad?" Greg asked upon seeing the shirt.

"I most certainly did, son." Dave walked over and dropped his arm around the jock's shoulders. "Hi, Nick." He strengthened the squeeze. "Welcome to our home and the family."

"Thanks, Dave. I appreciate the sentiment." Nick breathed through his intense discomfort. "I'll be lucky if my parents let me stand on their lawn after I tell them, so this is real nice." Extremely annoying and uncomfortable, but nice.

Jan pressed the pause button to give her next direction, "Start walking toward the house holding hands, glancing at one another from time to time."

"Okay, Spielberg," Greg joked while grabbing his fiancé's hand. "Would you like us to really queen it up by frolicking and skipping too? Or are you going for a more masculine gay romance vibe? What's my motivation?"

"Don't be a smart ass," the impatient mother droned. "You'll thank me for this when you're showing it to your children one day." She hurried to the front door so she could capture them entering.

"We're having kids, G?" Nick joked. "When were you plannin' on tellin' me?"

"Hey, it's news to me too." Greg asked, "Do you want to use my sperm or yours? Or should we do the sperm cocktail and never find out who's the daddy?"

"That won't be necessary, boys." Dave patted the good sports on the back. "We have eight Cambodian orphans in the backyard, you can pick as many as you'd like. No pressure, but Jan has her heart set on two girls."

"Oh, Lord." Nick released his tension in a laugh. "You know what, why bother fightin' the fight. Hey, how's this, Jan?" He swept Greg off his feet and into his arms. "Is this romantic enough for ya?"

"I love it!" the giddy mother squealed with delight.

"I do too." Greg stole a kiss, replete with illegal tongue action.

"Gregory!" Jan scolded. "Would you please keep it G-rated for my Cambodian grandchildren!"

"The neighbors are watching," Dave sighed. He crossed the lawn to speak to the nosiest one, "It's a big day, Mrs. Wilson!" He knew the woman already thought they were a family of lunatics, ever since his crazy Norwegian mother-in-law used to dance on the front lawn in her nightgown when the moon was full and dress up like a troll on Halloween. "We're celebrating because Greg got engaged to a very respectable young man. He brought him here for a visit. You know Jan and her video camera."

"Celebrating your son's queerness on the front lawn for the world to see?" The elderly woman shook her head. "I always said you people were a bunch of nuts."

Dave calmly replied, "No, we're a bunch of fruits and nuts, thank you very much." After laughing at the old bat's reaction, he headed for the house. "Don't start picking grandkids without me!"

***

Chapter 32: We've Only Just Begun

With his jar of prize winning cockroaches in the baby seat of his Petsmart shopping cart, Gil proudly strolled the aisles next to Sara who was walking Bruno on his new leash. "Dog Food, right here."

"Wow, there are four aisles of food," the new dog owner remarked as she stood gaping at the choices.

Gil quickly narrowed down the selection. "Whatever helps with hyper-flatulence is the kind we need to buy."

"He's just nervous." Sara crouched down to scratch her dog's head. "Adoption, a long car ride, a store full of pets…it's a lot to handle in one day." She quietly informed the pooch, "I had stomach aches my whole first week in foster care."

"Can I help you find something?" Steve, the twenty-eight year old assistant store manager queried when he saw two clueless patrons who looked like the type to spend a lot of money on their beloved pet.

"Yes, thank you." Gil handed over a list. "We just adopted this boxer and the shelter wrote down the food he's been eating, but we have a sneaking suspicion that it's not agreeing with him and would like to try something new. He has a clean bill of health from the Veterinarian, so we know it's not a medical problem."

After the dog standing next to him farted, Steve chuckled, "I see the problem; actually I smell it. The food the shelter was feeding him was very cheap stuff, which is pretty typical since those places rely on donations. They probably had to keep changing his diet based on what they had on their shelves. What you need to do, is buy some of the old stuff and some of the new, higher quality product I'll recommend and then mix it, gradually switching him completely to the new. In addition to the food switch, you'll want to invest in an elevated feeder, that helps them swallow less air when eating. You can add Acidophilus to his food as well, and the most important thing is to make sure he gets a nice light walk after dinner to help him digest the meal."

"Terrific." Gil nodded at the knowledgeable man. "We'll do everything you've said."

"Of course his mental health is important too," Steve remarked while walking the couple to the toy aisle. "You'll want to buy him a variety of play items to keep him happy and stimulated. We have several hardcover books that really help new dog owners, would you like me to pull copies for you?" He knew the geek types always loved big, expensive books.

"Yes, please." Sara nodded. "Do you have one on the Boxer breed as well?"

"I'm sure we do, but if we don't we can order for you." Steve waved the big spenders forward. "What about sleeping arrangements? Are you going to let him share your bed? Or do you plan on giving him one of his own?"

"What's wrong with the floor?" Gil queried, remembering his childhood dog being perfectly comfortable at the foot of his bed.

"Nothing, but often times newly adopted pets are used to sleeping with other dogs or in kennel cages, it can be daunting to have a huge floor as their bed when they're used to a more intimate arrangement." He pointed to the shelf. "Feel that Microfiber Orthopedic Donut Bed. It looks and feels like real suede."

"Ooh," Sara ran her hand across it. "That does feel nice."

"Yes," Steve patted the boxer on the head. "And you certainly deserve comfort after living in a scary, impersonal shelter for so long, right?"

Gil's eyes jumped open when he saw the price tag. "$150 for a pet bed?"

"That's the top of the line, but we have much cheaper versions."

"We'll take this one." Sara pulled a burgundy one from the shelf. "It matches our bedding."

"He's sleeping in the bedroom?" Gil half-joked, "My roaches don't get to sleep in the bedroom, so why does our dog?"

Steve glanced at the cart again. "I was wondering about the roaches." But I didn't know how to broach the subject without making you people sound like freaks.

Gil boasted, "They took first place at the National Forensics Conference in Long Beach earlier this week."

"Wow." Steve pretended to be fascinated. "That's exciting. What kind of habitat do you keep them in at home?"

"A standard 10 gallon fish tank."

"I bet they would love an upgrade. Have you ever looked at our SeaClear product line?"

Sara tapped the bed. "If your roaches get a new house, our undividable dog gets deluxe bedding."

"Undividable dog?" Steve remarked with curiosity. But before he got an answer, the boxer released a stink bomb. "Hey, have you heard of the Dogone Thong?"

"The what?" Gil and Sara chimed.

"It's an incredible odor neutralizing system for dogs with flatulence issues. It's a charcoal cloth that is fastened over the tail and with elastic straps. It covers the posterior, and when odor is released, the gassy discharge is instantly deodorized." He laughed, "I brought it home for my wife when she was pregnant, because certain foods really set her off. She wasn't amused." He waved the couple and their credit cards to follow him. "This is a good time to discuss personal hygiene products for your new family member. Right this way!"

---

"And this is Gregory's room," Jan stepped inside the large bedroom. While Dave was having a chat in his home office with Greg, she was giving Nick the grand tour. "I redecorated it for him when he came home to stay with us for a bit after my parents passed, but it still has a lot of his childhood and high school things."

"He mentioned takin' a semester off to be with you. I thought that was real sweet of him."

"Yes. Yes, it was." Jan gave a somber nod. "It was a very rough time for me and he sacrificed a lot to help me cope…too much I'm afraid. If I could do it over, I wouldn't have accepted his offer. He should have stayed at school and been with his friends, but he's a very compassionate boy and he wanted to help me." Fighting off tears, she said, "I know I'm biased, but I think you're lucky to have him."

"I agree." While studying the photos on the dresser, Nick said, "Greg's helped me deal with a bunch of stuff this past week. I was at rock bottom when I showed up on his doorstep in Long Beach. I know he told you that I'm suspended for havin' a breakdown on the job. When I left town I was certain I'd never get my job back, hell, I wasn't even sure that I wanted it, but now…" He picked up the photo of six year old Greg at Sea World posing with Dave and the stuffed Shamu toy that now resided on The Freyja. "I'm goin' back to Vegas a new man thanks to Greg. I know I'll be able to work everything out with him supportin' me."

"Good for you, Nicky." Jan enjoyed watching him smile at the photos. "Would you like to see some albums?" Without waiting for an answer, she hurried to retrieve her favorites.

"Yes, ma'am, I'd love to." He returned the Shamu photo to its spot and took a seat on the edge of the bed, eager to learn more about the man he loved.

"This is his senior year of high school."

"Look at him all prepped out in that private school uniform. His ears look huge with that hair cut."

"He hated having it that short." Jan shook her head at the memory. "He was conducting an experiment one afternoon and Mr. Wizard did something wrong and singed the whole left side in a mini explosion. He was damn lucky he didn't kill himself. That boy has given me enough heart attacks in this lifetime. I really don't think I can survive one more trauma."

"I don't blame you." The intrigued boyfriend kept flipping through the photos.

"Promise me you'll look after him, Nicky."

"I'll do my best, ma'am, but he's a grown man with a very overactive imagination and a strong sense of adventure. If I found out one thing about him on this trip, it's that he's very hard to control. When he gets an idea in his head, he doesn't let go of it." A smile edged over his lips. "If I had a dollar for everything I did during this trip, that I wouldn't have done unless Greg talked me into it, I'd be a rich man. It's embarrassing to admit, but the truth is, I have a hard time sayin' no to him."

"Dave's the same way with me," she snickered. "Like mother like gay son I guess. He knows how to use his feminine wiles to get what he wants from a man."

---

Handing his son a beer, Dave smiled and sat next to him on the green leather couch in his home office. "Let's see this bracelet your mother told me about."

Unexpectedly nervous, Greg extended his left arm. "It's just your run of the mill souvenir hemp and cowrie shell bracelet, Dad. It's not really significant, I mean we're joking that we're engaged, but we're really not, I mean we're…apparently I don't know what I mean."

"Did it make you feel special when he tied it on you?"

Glancing down at his beer, the suddenly uncomfortable son nodded.

"Hey." Reaching out, Dave tousled his son's hair like he always did. "Are you embarrassed to talk about this with me?"

Greg shrugged and kept his eyes locked on the rim of his beer bottle. "I don't know, in the light of day it seems a little silly to talk about it with my hetero dad when I know you don't really get me wanting to be with a man in the first place. Not that I'm ungrateful of your support, I'm thrilled, it's just…weird."

"That's what I'm doing here…trying to get it. I want to get it." Dave smiled and nodded, "But I'll admit it is a little hard for me to wrap my head around two guys getting engaged."

"Join the club." Greg released all his tension in a laugh. "Nick's a traditional and superstitious guy, he wants to say we're engaged before we make any type of commitment to each other down the road. I know I want to be with him, so he can call it whatever he wants. But if you think about it, it's a little ridiculous, because we're engaged to not be allowed to be married, not that we'd get married if we could because we can't go public without getting shit from at least half of LVPD, Nick's family, and a good chunk society, so…do you get where I'm coming from? Convention is a little impractical to me, but I love the bracelet and the guy who gave it to me. Eventually, Nick will get used to the way things are and stop trying to fit into the conventional world, but until then, we can be gay guys living like a hetero couple if it makes him feel better."

"What you just said makes me sad actually."

"Why?" Greg finally lifted his gaze.

"Because getting engaged to your mother was one of the most exciting times of my life. I know it's hard to believe because she's such nutjob, but I was thrilled when I proposed and she said yes. I was proud to have her wearing the ring I worked two jobs to afford. Every time she showed it off, my heart soared. Partly because I was proud to have earned the money to buy something so nice, but mostly because this beautiful, intelligent, witty woman from a very good family was saying she couldn't wait to marry me…a poor kid from Bakersfield raised by deadbeat parents who had been told all his life that he'd never amount to anything. It made me feel very special. It's sad that two guys in love are prevented from experiencing those feelings when they want to take a more traditional approach to their relationship."

Greg nudged his father and chuckled, "You really were paying attention at that PFLAG meeting, weren't you?"

"You know me, I'm an overachiever. If I'm going to be a PFLAG dad, I'm going to be the best damn one they ever had." Fiddling with the bracelet on his son's wrist he said, "You know, if Nick's an insecure old fashioned guy in a brand new unconventional world, maybe he doesn't really need an engagement, what he needs is a quick reminder of your commitment. Maybe every time he gets unsure, he looks over sees you wearing his bracelet and he calms down. I would think it would be very scary to come out and put all your trust in one person, even if that person has been your friend for years and your roommate." Dave winked. "I bet if you show the bracelet to someone while Nick's around, he'll get a rush just like I did when your mother showed off her ring."

"Yeah, I think you're right. I did show it to this couple we met shooting pool and then at the day spa to the massage therapists. Nick was psyched."

"So, why do you like wearing it and showing it off if you're so unconventional?

"Duh!" Greg laughed, "Oh, sorry, I forgot that you're hetero. Allow me to explain…it's because my fiancé is sex on a stick, Dave. Ten out of ten gay men polled said they'd drop to their knees for him any day, but he's mine, all mine. Yee haw! God bless Texas, because all they turn out are steers and queers and I got myself the cream of the crop." The proud son clinked his beer bottle against his stunned, but smiling father's. "You really are trying to roll with your son being gay. Thanks for not looking nauseous, Dad."

"Hey, I've always wanted nothing but the best for you, son, so if you're gay, it stands to reason that I'd want you to have a stud for a boyfriend."

"Ooh, that reminds me. We pilfered the last of your Levitra on board The Freyja."

"Why would two thirty-somethings need Levitra?"

"Did you see the book that Jan bought us?" Greg collapsed against the cushions. "So much to try and so little time…we had to do something to fit it all in."

"Fit it all in, very cute." Dave struggled not to look nauseous. "See, I'm even making jokes."

"Ha! I didn't even think of it that way." Greg shook his finger. "You're a real perv, Dave."

"You should have been at the PFLAG meeting, one of the women suggested that your mother buy a strap on to use on me, so I could speak with knowledge instead of passing judgment based on assumptions. Then I got called a hypocrite for having backdoor sex with women, but thinking that my son is too good to be violated."

"Sounds like a tough crowd."

"I'll say that your mother fit right in and leave it at that."

"Wow, now I really appreciate you going for me."

"Now you know how much I love you." Dave took a gulp of beer and then quietly said, "I went because I wanted someone to tell me something that would make me feel better about you being Nick's…"

"Bitch?"

Dave covered his face and laughed, "For lack of a better word, yes."

"Please don't worry." Greg pushed past his discomfort to share, "It's a common misconception that only the top is getting pleasure in bed when guys are having sex, but that couldn't be further from the truth. I've been a top with women, and I didn't enjoy it half as much as being on the receiving end. It's also commonly believed that the top holds all the power because they're in the dominant position, but that's not necessarily the case. Nick was my bitch. I called the shots and he did my bidding all week, not that he minded. We have a very healthy, normal relationship and I'm very happy." He patted his father's shoulder. "I think that's just enough information for you not to worry without making you feel nauseous. Am I right?"

After sharply clearing his throat, Dave said, "Yes, thank you. That's…it's perfect. Let's consider this conversation the starting point of a new level of closeness between us and leave it right there for now. We should go rescue Nick from your mother anyway."

"You're assuming he hasn't already run from the house screaming and is racing back to Vegas to change the locks on our front door."

---

Walking out of Petsmart with two carts full of supplies, a receipt for $856.12 and the realization that a dog would be an ongoing expense, Gil was starting to think a diamond ring would have been better. Then he saw the smile on Sara's face as she held Bruno's leash with one hand and pushed a cart with the other. "Happy?"

"Yeah. It's a little more work than we thought though, huh?"

"I guess parenthood always is. Only in the beginning though, I'm sure it gets - uh oh." Gil froze.

"What?" Sara studied the surprised expression on her man's face. "What's wrong?"

"Hodges," Gil answered under his breath. "Coming right at us."

"Fancy meeting you here!" The lab rat walked forward grinning. "Exactly why are the two of you here…together…on a Saturday afternoon when you're not working?" From time to time he had suspected something was going on between the two of them, but then Grissom always did something that made him think otherwise. "Hmm?"

"I was shopping with my new dog," Sara explained. "I just adopted him."

Holding up his jar of Madagascars, Gil took over, "And I was here rewarding my prize winning cockroaches with a new habitat when I ran into Sara, whose cart was overflowing. I volunteered to put some of her things in my cart and I'm helping her out to her car like any gentlemen would." Feeling pretty smug, he grinned, "Sorry to disappoint your dirty little mind, Hodges, but there's nothing going on between CSI Sidle and myself."

"Yeah," Sara belly laughed, "he's so not my type. He's fourteen years my senior, I like dating guys my own age." She glanced over at Gil. "No offense, boss."

"None taken," Gil droned.

Hodges smirked, "I guess you're not dating Sanders then either, because mentally he's twelve."

"What brings you here?" Sara queried, changing the subject.

Ah ha! She deflected my Sanders comment. "I need mice for my Boa." Hodges cleared his throat and puffed out his chest. "I have a big date tonight and I like to feed my Boa a mouse while the lady watches. It's a macho thing. Chicks dig it."

Sara successfully held back her laughter. "Well, I'd love to stand here and chat, but I need to get Bruno home and settled. I'll see you at work tomorrow night, Hodges."

Before saying goodbye, Hodges asked, "Have you heard from Nick? The rumor mill is really churning back at the lab. I heard he's moved back to Dallas and won't be returning to LVPD."

Gil snipped, "I assure you that's not the case. Nick is doing just fine and he'll be back at work in a few weeks. He's away enjoying a little mandated R&R."

---

Standing in the kitchen window, Dave peered into the backyard where his son and Nick were relaxing in a hammock. "They really do seem happy, don't they, honey?"

"Absolutely," Jan answered while sautéing shrimp. "And Nicky is so much calmer than he was in Long Beach. Whatever Greg did the past five days, apparently worked miracles."

Thinking of his depleted Levitra supply, the slightly disturbed father changed the subject, "I hope they do okay when they return to Vegas. Before finding out that my son was gay, I didn't really think about how difficult it is for gay men in this country, but Greg said they'll live in fear of being outed, because they'd be harassed on the job. Not that it matters, because Nevada doesn't even have any protection laws for partners, so they couldn't be a legal couple even if they were to come out."

"As long as our country is run by Bible-Thumpers, we'll be behind the rest of the civilized world. The UK, Canada, and most of Europe all have something in place for gay couples, it's ridiculous that the supposed Land of the Free doesn't."

"I told him if things ever got too rough or depressing for them, they could always relocate here and we'd help them get started in the city with our connections. Or I suggested they could go and live in the Maui house for a while and try to make a go of it there. At least Hawaii and California allow domestic partnerships."

"I'll support anything that gets Greg out of the field. I'm sure he could get a top paying job in the bay area, and…"

"Honey, you know he's following his dream and we agreed to support his decision to work in the field. Support means we don't bitch at him every time…"

"I know, I know." Jan bit her tongue and turned off the stove. "Dinner's ready, so call the boys inside."

"This reminds me of when Greg was a kid and he'd have a buddy stay for dinner." Just as he was about to move from the window, he saw the two men gravitate into a lusty kiss. "Except for the kissing, that never used to happen."

"Wrong." Grinning, Jan removed her apron. "I've recently learned that there were some hot and heavy homosexual makeout sessions on our couch when Gregory was in high school. That's how clueless we were back then."

"Not with anyone I knew though, right?"

"Carson Pillard."

"Nooooo. Really?" Dave was stunned. "The jock Greg was tutoring?"

"He taught the boy more than Algebra apparently."

"Wow, color me surprised." He opened the backdoor. "Get a room, you two!" He chuckled and waved the two busted men inside. "Fajitas are ready!"

When her son and his lover entered the kitchen, Jan launched the joke she had been waiting to say, "Wash your hands, boys, because who knows where your fingers have been." She was the only one who burst out laughing. "Oh come on, that was hilarious and you know it!"

"Jeeeez, there's a lot more to our relationship than sex, mother." Greg huffed over to the sink to wash the hands he had used to pleasure Nick when they were engaging in a little role play behind a backyard tree. He had convinced his uptight lover, who admitted he had never incorporated role play into his sex life before, to pretend they were schoolmates who were fooling around during an after school study session and trying not to get caught. "On the Freyja, we read poetry to each other and discussed politics and environmental issues too."

"You tell her, G." Not recalling a line of poetry or minute of politic or environmental debate, Nick joined his partner at the sink chuckling. "We watched lots of movies too." While we were recovering from sexual exertion. "Poltergeist was one of 'em, it gave me the creeps just like it did when I was a kid." After breathing deep he said, "Wow, dinner smells fantastic, ma'am. I love fajitas."

"That's why I made them."

Greg pecked his mother's cheek, "Thanks for making them like I asked you too."

Dave held up a bottle of White Star. "This is my contribution. I thought it would be nice to celebrate with your favorite bubbly, son."

"Just one glass," Nick said, "we got four hours of drivin' ahead of us."

"I love how responsible you are, Nicky." Jan squeezed the man's face with her hand. "Keep that up."

Dave filled the four flutes he had waiting on the island. "Take a glass." He raised his. "To Nick and Greg…" The contented father smiled when he saw his jock son-in-law put his arm around his boy's shoulders and grin. "Congratulations on your new beginning/engagement/future together. Labels really aren't important, it's the love between two people that matters and it's quite obvious that there is plenty of love between the two of you. I wish you the best in the future, and I wish I could make things easier for you, but wherever you are, whatever obstacles you may encounter, please know that you have two people in your corner." He pulled his teary-eyed wife close. "Life has just begun for you as a couple. Enjoy every day, because they go by fast. Here's to Happily Ever After, I've got mine, may you find yours."

"To Happily Ever After," they cheered together while clinking glasses.

"That was real nice, Dad." Greg hugged his father. "Thanks."

"Okay, okay." Jan flicked her tears and hurried to the table so she wouldn't get overly emotional. "Let's eat!"

---

While pouring pasta in a large pot of boiling water, Hodges continued his four-way conversation on his speakerphone. "Guess who I saw at Petsmart together?"

Mandy was the first to respond, "Warrick Brown and Catherine Willows! I heard through the geek grapevine that she caused his divorce."

Hodges snickered, "While I do believe you are correct about the divorce and while I'm certain the two of them are doing the horizontal mambo, I didn't see them at Petsmart today."

"Ecklie and Vartann," Archie guessed. "Ever since they got chummy while working the case of the disappearing DB together, I've had my suspicions."

"Eww!" Mandy shrieked into the phone. "Not that there's anything wrong with being gay, Henry."

"I'm not gay!" Henry shrilled in defense of his sexuality. "Not that there's anything wrong with being gay. I'm just not lucky with the ladies, at least not ladies under the age of sixty. I can get any one of my mother's friends. Some of those Florida retirees were left a lot of money when their husbands died. I'm seriously considering a new career as a Boca Boy Toy. I have two offers on the table as a matter of fact."

"Focus, people!" Hodges reminded his groupies. "No, it wasn't Ecklie and Vartann. They're both too crabby to be getting laid on a regular basis."

"Like you, Davy?" Wendy snarked.

"Who invited her?" Hodges blasted. "I didn't even know she was on the phone."

"She's at my house," Mandy explained.

"Are you girls naked?" Archie asked while imagining them sitting by the pool slicking each other with sunscreen.

"Wouldn't you like to know," Wendy purred.

Annoyed that his four-way had become a five-way, Hodges refocused the discussion. "Two LVPD coworkers at Petsmart caught in a compromising position. Third guess may be a charm. Anyone?"

"Stokes and Sanders," Wendy posited. "They're waaaaay more than roommates."

"Stokes?" Hodges burst out laughing. "Nick Stokes is a ladies man. He's slept with half the showgirls in Vegas. I think someone is just saying he's gay because that certain someone couldn't get him to sleep with her."

Archie had to concur, "I heard Nick's dying confession on tape and there wasn't any indication of him being gay."

"Stokes is totally gay!" Wendy stood by her guess. "Those showgirls are beards. He's gay with a capital G. Not that there's anything wrong with being gay, Henry."

"I'm not gay!" Henry spat. "I'm just a Mama's Boy, okay? A slightly effeminate, exceedingly neat Mama's Boy who has a fondness for showtunes and the arts because his mother smothered him with both when he was a boy. If you don't believe me, I'll be more than happy to come over and prove it the old fashioned way, ladies."

"On second thought, maybe I am gay," Archie laughed. "I should come over too. I'll have a three-way with you girls to test myself. Whose house are you at?"

Hodges sighed into the phone, "Doesn't anyone care that Grissom and Sara were at Petsmart with their dog?"

"Grissom and Sara!" the foursome replied in unison.

"Wait a minute, I thought he was into Lady Heather," Archie said, not believing it for a minute.

"How do you know they were together-together?" Henry inquired. "Poor Greg will be crushed if it's true, he has a big time crush on her."

"I'd go out with Greg any day," Mandy sighed, "but he never asks. No one asks."

"I've asked you!" Henry reminded her.

"Yeah, but I thought you were asking me to be your beard."

"I'm not gay!"

Hodges yelled, "Grissom and Sara, people! They said they met at Petsmart by chance. Grissom told me that he was just helping Sara to her car, but then I busted them!"

"You saw them kiss?" Mandy excitedly asked, "Tongue or no tongue?"

"They didn't kiss."

"He squeezed her ass, didn't he?" Archie queried with a snicker. "Or did he lick her shoes? Grissom's a big time perv, I know he is. He's too into freaky people to not be one himself."

Hodges confirmed, "No ass grabbing or shoe licking was observed."

"Grissom is a gentleman," Henry corrected. "I bet he was holding her hand, right?"

"Thank you for playing, but you're all incorrect! For your consolation prize, you get…the steamy hot truth." Hodges stirred the hot pot of spaghetti and shared, "I stood inside Petsmart watching them the whole time. After circling the parking lot with their carts, presumably to throw me off their trail, Grissom loaded everything in his car, not Sara's, and then," he gave a drum roll, "they drove away together, even though they said they had met there by chance."

"Maybe her car wouldn't start," Wendy stated, not convinced they were truly a couple.

"Which part of 'I was watching them the whole time' didn't you understand?" Hodges shot her down. "What's it going to take, DNA girl? Swabs of their exchanged spit?"

"Photo evidence works for me," Archie stated, having a fondness for A/V proof. "A picture is worth a thousand words."

---

After a g-rated kiss for Jan's digital camera, Nick and Greg waved and climbed into the truck for their return home.

"Thanks again for everything!" Greg knew the drill, "I'll call you when we we're home safe, Mom."

"Okay, Sweetie!" Jan blew kisses. "I love you!" Clutching her camera, she ran for the house. "I can't wait to upload these to my MySpace account, so Peggy and Lynn can see how our boy hit the stud jackpot!"

---

"Aren't we lucky," Sara informed Bruno as she walked him down the street. "We both lost our first homes, but have come to live in a wonderful place with a loving man."

The dog wagged his tail and followed along, happy for the one-on-one attention.

"Good boy!" she rewarded him with a pat when he didn't pass gas for five minutes. "You're calming down already."

---

As soon as he merged onto the freeway, Nick confessed, "Shit, just pointin' my truck in the direction of Vegas got me tense."

Greg rolled down the window. "Okay, let it rip."

"Shut up, smart ass." Nick used the driver's controls to close the windows and then engaged the parental lock feature so his partner couldn't open them for the rest of the trip. "Take that!"

"Refried beans was a bad side dish choice at dinner." Greg crashed back against the leather seat. "This is going to be the longest and smelliest four hours of my life."

"Aww, maybe this'll make it better for ya." The Texan pulled a Rascal Flatts CD from his collection.

"No! No! Not hick music!" Greg feigned a seizure.

"Hey!" Nick quietly said, "I'm playin' this for a reason, so shut your pie hole and listen up, you unromantic twit."

"Sorry, Cletus." Greg settled down to listen to the tune.

"It's called Where You Are," Nick shared. "I'm playin' it to say that I was nowhere before I was with you, G."

The grateful boyfriend lunged to kiss the driver's cheek. "I love you, and I'm all ears." By the time the chorus started, he was wearing a huge grin. The sentiments were beautiful. 'Your love lifts me up', 'All that I want is to be is where you are'. "Thank you for playing this for me." He dispensed another kiss and kept listening.

Standing in front of the townhouse, Sara held onto Bruno's leash and counted her blessings. The lonely girl from Tamales Bay finally had the things she had been secretly craving for years…a home and a family. As she glanced down at the dog that was rounding out her fantasy, the pooch released an unruly fart.

The dog immediately offered a canine apology - a tail wag accompanied by a pitiful glance.

"Don't worry." Sara bent down and scratched his head. "It's going to take a lot more to get rid of me than flatulence. My boyfriend keeps roaches as pets. I have a high tolerance for quirky boys."

Grissom stood in the living room window sporting a goofy grin as he watched the love of his life talking to their undividable dog on the front lawn. The lonely guy who had been afraid to take a chance on love for years finally had the things he had been secretly craving…a woman who loved him, understood him, and tolerated his quirks. It was exactly how he always imagined love would be. As nervous as he was about the future, he couldn't wait to see what it would bring.

When the song ended, Greg reached to turn the volume down. "I can't think of a place I'd rather be, Cletus, than where you are." He stared at the open road ahead of them. "No matter where this leads, you can absolutely count on one thing - I'm along for the ride."

"Good to know," the sentimental cowboy choked out as he reached over and squeezed the hand of the man he loved with all his heart. "Good to know."

The End

***

Next story in series - The Day Before You.

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