Kyle cleared his throat before raising his champagne glass to the happy couple. The Best Man’s speech wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be. Amy was smiling and glowing, and his father seemed to be in a daze. Kyle's speech was blessedly short and surprisingly moving with some help from Tess. Kyle looked as his new mother hugged his father to her side, and for the first time since his own mother walked out of their lives so suddenly, the Valenti boys lives were finally back on track and happy. Tess reached up and wiped the moisture from his face. He didn’t realize he had been crying.

"Care to dance?" Michael asked. Maria looked at him in surprise. Michael hated dancing and it always took a lot of coaxing to get him on the floor. He was better than he thought, but he let the thought of other people watching him inhibit his movements, making them stiff and disjointed.

Maria flowed into his arms before he lost his nerve and they danced across the floor. "That was a lovely ceremony, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, lovely," Michael whispered, as his mouth found the side of her exposed neck.

"Would you like something like that?" Maria asked casually. He had been sending her mixed signals since that morning. She assumed he was thinking Justice of the Peace or someplace like Reno, but now she wasn’t so sure.

Michael pulled his head back and stared at her. "Are you asking to marry me?" He smiled, and whispered in her ear. “How soon? Before we have this bundle?” Michael’s hand touched her flat stomach, and he looked at her with dark eyes. Yeah, he would need to be married before he became a father. He would need the knowledge and security of knowing that she and the baby would always be his.

"Yeah, I'd like us to make a public commitment to each other. Beyond parenting." She paused and sucked on her bottom lip. She knew this drove him to distraction, but couldn't stop herself. He had asked her to marry him, made sure she said yes and then that was it. He was nothing if not confusing at times. Surely he wasn’t planning on letting her hold off the wedding date for six years like her mom!

"I can't think while you're chewing your lip, Professor. Give me a break here, Maria." Michael looked around at the influential crowd which was the only thing sparing Maria from being ravished on the highly polished floor. Still, they were expecting a baby, and all these nice people would probably understand the insatiable appetites of an expectant mother. He could blame it on Maria.

"Sorry," she whispered. "What do you want to do?" Maria moved her hands to the small of his back so that she could cross them behind him and hold him near. The smell of him, the look of his body encased in a tux, the feel of him tight and mating close to the front of her body was distracting her, making her ache. It was the touch of his mouth on her neck made her close her eyes to the aching longing and burn.

"Ceremony or not, Maria, I'm all yours." He tilted up her chin. "But a ceremony would be nice." Michael rubbed his face in her neck and smelt her. The rush of sensation in his blood was making him dizzy, the need to taste her, to feel her over him was making his breath pant a little. "Let me surprise you. I have a plan."

"A plan?" Maria kissed him silly. He said that so softly and with a devil-may-care look in his eye, that she swore she was seeing Michael Guerin as he had been in his youth, all young, adventurous and very naughty. Reluctantly, they parted to dance with other guests for a time when Michael’s shoulder was tapped. Maria, who was suddenly dancing with Marco, laughed at Michael as he swore under his breath by the interruption, but quickly choked back his response when he found himself dancing with Sean’s mother, Theresa.

“Your Cop, Miko. I like him. He is a good man - hard but good.” Maria smiled at her uncle. “Your father, he would approve.” Maria lost her smile and looked over her uncle’s shoulder. “He told me that you and he made peace in the last few years of his life. Was that not true?”

“It was.” Maria said softly. Then she looked at her uncle. “I couldn’t forgive him for many years for how he treated my mother. But I got older and realized that it was their relationship, not mine. So I learned to forgive.”

“He was a hard man, Frankie, Sr. But he was a man worthy of your love, Maria. When he met your mother, she was everything to him. She was sunshine and light, more than he thought he could ever have. Our father had already chosen a wife for him, a woman he never knew and could never love. He broke from the family to marry your mother. It took a year and my father learning to adore your mother for them to mend their fences. But then my father got sick and Frankie, he was required to step up.”

“Grandfather was still alive when I was a child.”

“Yes, but not in his mind. He wasn’t able to make decisions for the Family, so that fell on Frankie’s shoulders. And what we do, who we are, became too real to your mother. She couldn’t be quiet and live with it. They fought.” Marco looked over at the happy smiling Amy. “Your father would be happy to see her so alive again and smiling. He stole that from her. He couldn’t walk away from his duty, not even for her, and she couldn’t live with the lies and the blood. But she was the one thing he couldn’t live without, so he forced her to stay, he used you to keep her near. It was wrong. He was weak, but he needed it. Needed her. And when you left and she left, winter came and it stayed until he found you again.”

“Zio...”

“No. I tell you this not to worry you. Time, it passes, and we...we DeLuca’s...we survive. But I’m realizing that maybe we’re changing a little. I look at Sean, and I’m proud. Frankie, your brother was a disease. Every day, I thank God that my son wasn’t so afflicted, and that Sean did what the Family should have done years before. What your father should have done. We should have put down the sick diseased one, but we didn’t and the damage was too much to bear. We let Sean carry our burden, and then we turned away from the unsightly truth. But no one is turning away now. So, little one, there is maybe hope for all of us, no?”

Maria hugged him. “Nothing but hope.”

Maria seemed to be stuck in smiling mode as she caught sweet seductive glimpses of Michael during the party. He was being forced to dance with all the women of her family and they were all laughing as he watched his feet trying not to trample them. She was going to wear the man out when they got home. Maria planned her seduction technique--strip Michael naked, throw him to the bed, and have her way with him with maybe a pair of handcuffs to keep him from turning the tables on her. Maria grinned. That would work.

“What you smiling at, Maria?” Liz asked as she ate more food. It was impossible to believe that she could ever eat so much, but somehow eating was a huge part of being around the DeLucas.

“You so do not even want to know!” Liz followed her glance as it rushed over Michael’s body. Damn. Liz moved around in her chair. They were lethal and deadly to everyone who came in contact with them. It was surprising that they ever got anything else done. Tess came over to join them, smiling at Liz and Maria.

“Okay, so give, Liz. Who is the big Hercules you brought? Is he Swedish? Is his name Sven?”

Liz laughed. “No! He’s a motorcycle cop in Highway Patrol, and his name is Stan. But I do think he’s got some real interest in bodybuilding and gives a mean massage.”

“What’d he massage?” Maria asked curiously.

“Maria!” Tess said with a mocking outrage. “You’re pregnant! Don’t you know that once a woman becomes pregnant, they’re expected by society to find a fascination for puppies, anchors and shirts that say ‘Baby on Board’, with lots of pastels?”

“Oh please! How the heck do you think I got pregnant in the first place. And I can tell you it had nothing to do with puppies, pastels or anchors. Though...you could hang an anchor off of Michael’s...”

“Maria! Concentrate.” Tess turned to Liz politely before Maria went off on a tangent again.

Liz didn’t get it. That was the second time. “What the heck is wrong with pastels?” Both Tess and Maria laughed at Liz enjoying her looks of confusion.

Maria leaned forward and gave Liz some friendly advice. “Just be careful with the muscle-bound one, Lizzie. I understand that steroid use can severely cripple the performance and ‘reduce’ the package.” Liz just turned red, and put her hand over Maria’s mouth enjoying the laughing mirth in her friend's eyes.

“Don’t worry, Maria! This popper can pop with a loud bang.”

“Whoo hoo! Details!” said Maria in a singsong voice. The women added more food to their plates and got down to some real gossiping.

Michael finally found his way back to Maria and pulled her to the side with a quick nibble to the earlobe. "Your mom’s about to toss her bouquet, so hug the wall. These women can get dangerous. I checked out a few of your cousins and they look desperate."

Maria was about to protest when she saw Liz Parker’s date nearly get trampled. Michael placed himself between Maria and the horde. Amy made eye contact with him, but he just shook his head. Maria didn’t need to catch the bouquet to be the next one married. Amy should save it for someone who needed hope, like Liz Parker. Though Michael had to admit, the brown mouse was looking not so mousy tonight.

Amy had quite an arm on her, and the bouquet flew smoothly over most of the crowd and right into Liz's hands. Michael watched amused, as two of Maria’s dangerous-looking cousins circled Liz, but she hung tough and dared anyone to try and take it from her. No one did.

Michael was mesmerized as Jim lifted the end of Amy's dress to reveal her garter. She was one leggy woman for her height, but she still didn’t have anything on her daughter. Sean caught the garter and with a flick of his wrist tossed it at Max, then made a beeline to his reluctant date, the ADA Julia who, weakly, tried to shoo him away. Max looked at the garter confused until Jonathan whispered into his ear what it meant and finally Max looked up to find Liz Parker and went over to ask her for the next dance. It was tradition.

Jonathan came to stand beside Michael and Maria where they were trying to untangle themselves from a potted plant. "You're drooling, Jonathan," Maria accused. She followed his eyes watching Max dance and talk with Liz Parker. “Is it Liz or Max you’re watching?”

“Maria.” Jonathan gave her an accusing look. She knew who he was watching.

“Maybe you should go cut in? Once upon a time, Max and Liz had this ‘stare into my eyes’ moo-cow affair going before it flickered to dust. Who knows? I hear that the Phoenix rose from ashes. Maybe that spark is still there.”

It was Amy that made the decision for them. “Maria, it’s the last dance before Jim and I leave. I want to see everyone dancing and that includes, you, Jonathan. Go dance with your date.” Maria smirked at Jonathan, almost in a challenge.

Jonathan just shrugged as Michael led Maria out on the dance floor again. He approached Liz’s date, and hoped the large Swede didn’t rearrange his face. He whispered to him in low conversation and then suddenly Maria started to laugh as she watched Jonathan and Liz’s date maneuver themselves awkwardly on the dance floor to intercept Max and Liz. Michael was watching too, and he kept a running commentary in Maria’s ear making her giggle.

“Jackpot!” Maria quickly turned at Michael’s word and saw Jonathan calmly claim Max in a dance. The two men started talking, and both were watching their feet as they tried to figure out who followed and who was to lead. Until it occurred to them that neither knew how to follow, and so they bumbled across the dance floor stepping all over each other in a fit of laughter and knocking into other couples.

Michael growled when they got too close to them. “Step on us, partner, and you and Stiller will be sorry.” Jonathan looked up and smiled cruelly. He quickly cut in and took Maria from Michael before he could protest, and Michael found him facing his partner in a dance.

“So help me God, Maxwell, you try to lead me in a foxtrot and we are coming to blows.” The two cops looked at each other, standing in the middle of the floor as couples around them snickered and passed them including a rude Sean, and a catcalling Kyle. Both men calmly walked off the floor keeping a respectable distance between them.

Maria laughed and looked up at Jonathan. “That was mean! I thought you were going to try to not bug Michael.”

“Did I say that? I don’t remember.”

“Uh huh. Well if you plan this relationship thing with Max to go on, you might want to stop teasing Michael so much. Your paths will continue to cross.”

Jonathan laughed down at the beautiful blond. “I fear that I and Michael Guerin are destined to cross paths numerous times, that is true. But I fear that he’s going to always find me a bug.”

Maria just laughed her agreement. Some things never changed and sometimes the more they changed, the more they stayed the same. She looked over to find her mom taking off with Liz to go change along with her aunt. She should go too.

“My mom is going off to change. I should go join her.”

“In a moment. This is the first dance I got with you tonight without Michael guarding you like the Crowned Jewels.”

“He wasn’t. He was just keeping an eye on me in case I got tired.”

Jonathan looked at her critically. “You look better. I’m glad to see you out of the hospital. How is the little one?”

Maria looked down at her flat stomach and then at Jonathan. “Fine. We’re both fine. Thank you for the visit yesterday, and the flowers.”

Jonathan just nodded. “Just promise me that if you get sick again, that you’ll have Michael let me know. I have connections, people I can contact that are experts.”

Maria was touched by his concern. “Thank you, Jonathan.”

He just smiled. “I just think this child is going to be special. It has to be. I would have sworn that Michael Guerin ever reproducing wouldn’t happen, and here he is making a liar of me.” Jonathan looked over to the edge of the floor and saw Michael watching them with narrowed eyes. “I’m going to resist the urge to place my hand on your stomach, just because I like my arm. It sort of goes with the rest of me, and I rather not have my dying view be Guerin beating me over the head with my own bloody stump.” Maria tried to make soothing noises at him. But there wasn’t much to say. Michael was possessive, and a part of her got more and more that way as well.

“Just do me a favor.” Jonathan asked quietly to her alone, but maintaining a respectable distance between them, or at least enough so light shone through and Guerin had no reason to rearrange his face. It was a pretty face, after all, and Jonathan had grown quite fond of it.

“If I can?”

“Consider me for a godparent.” Maria looked at her friend and smiled.

“Of course. Hey, maybe you and Max?” Jonathan just laughed at that. Yeah, that should make his detective very uncomfortable. Such a ‘married’ thing to do.

"You look absolutely edible," Maria purred to Michael when he finally lost patience and claimed her from Jonathan. She used it as a distraction to keep him from doing the twenty questions thing about Jonathan and their dance.

"How edible?" Michael quipped. Suddenly he went stiff and looked at her intensely. "You needing something extra from me, Professor?" She hadn’t fed from his blood since earlier that morning. He looked closely for that look of exhaustion and coldness creeping back.

"You and this tux, it’s...oh my! But I'll tell you a secret, Michael, you're just as sexy in old jeans and one of your worn shirts." Maria looked around to make sure no one was listening. “I also adore you in nothing but your skin.”

"Speaking of looking good, could you wear one of my shirts and a pair of high heels for later tonight?" Michael leaned in and kissed the side of her neck.

Maria smiled. "Am I about to fulfill one of your fantasies?"

Michael nodded enthusiastically. "Oh, yeah. You, me, you in high heels and that one shirt of mine that's so worn you can see through it, and you unprotected." He wiggled his brows.

Maria smiled. "I hope you realize that I hardly need protection any longer. Sort of knocked up here, Detective."

Michael leaned into her and moaned. “I know. It so turns me on.”

“As far as I can see, everything turns you on lately.” Michael made a face and shrugged. Yeah, so? Maria just ran her hand up along his skin and wrapped her hand around his neck to let her fingers play in his hair. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll leave on the heels, that old shirt and nothing else, if you let me undress you and you wear your handcuffs.”

Michael looked around frantically with a moan. “Where are they? They have got to go so we can go home.” Michael pulled Maria off the floor to go find Amy and Jim to push them in their car and off on their honeymoon immediately.

~~~

Sean walked ADA Mac to her door. Smiling politely, she opened her door, and tried to get with just a quick goodnight. But Sean wasn’t so easily deterred.

“You could at least let me thank you for coming with me tonight.”

“I had little choice. You insinuated that I owed you.”

“You did.”

She practically stomped her foot. “I did not!”

“Then why did you come?” Stinking male logic, irrefutable in its own way by the sheer simplicity of thought, but somehow it was still wrong.

Julia thought about it for a second and when left speechless, she did the only thing possible. She took a step toward Sean. Slowly, she raised one hand, ran the backs of her fingers down his bruised cheek. The touch was so gentle, so intimate, it stilled Sean into immobility. His heart and stomach did a quick flutter and roll. Julia moved closer, leaning in, and Sean knew with an utter certainty that she wanted to kiss him. A small part of him wanted to jerk away, to back off and put distance between them because he had taunted her into it and backed her into a corner. But a greater part of him, the one quiet and curious, the one holding his affection and lust for this woman, kept him in place and waiting. Julia's eyes, more serious than he'd ever seen them, studied him a moment then the long lashes lowered as she leaned in. Unable to keep still a moment longer, Sean flung his arms around her shoulders, pulling her to him, opening to her mouth.

Combustion. Conflagration. Incineration. The stroke of Julia's tongue against his own was fiery, igniting every single nerve in his body. Desire raced through him, almost blinding in its intensity, shocking Sean with its strength. He usually needed something more to get him to this place. He was dimly aware of her hands moving over his back, his shoulders, his arms, worshipful, tracing the heaviness of muscle beneath his skin. The soft, needy sounds she made in the back of her throat traveled a direct path from his ears down to his groin, making him ache and throb, making his body demand fulfillment and resolution. He didn't think it possible to be so aroused by a sound, but there it was, undeniable, evident in the hot swelling of his flesh.

Julia broke for air. Sean could feel her gasping and the heated sensation of her breath against his throat. Julia's taste, warm and sweet with a touch of spice, was still strong on his tongue. Addicting. Any hesitation, any thought this was somehow wrong had long since fled his mind. He wanted Julia more than he'd ever wanted anyone else before. Maybe it was the feeling of being out of his depth with her, or that she was unattainable. But the depth of his need was frightening. It crashed through him like a tsunami, sweeping away everything before it. His fingers tightened in Julia's hair, pulling, tilting her head back to possess her mouth again.

Time passed; seconds, minutes, hours, days for all he knew or cared. All that mattered, all that was important in his world was the sweetness of her mouth, the tantalizing seductiveness of his tongue twining with Julia's own and the biting nips she gave him hardening his body for action. Sean knew he was beginning to be rough as he tumbled deeper into a dark well of passion. The coppery taste of blood impacted on his senses, and he forced himself to come out of the sensual fog that threatened to overtake him completely. He'd cut her lip with his teeth; a small wound. He licked at it, seeking to give comfort. She finally looked at him, hazy, unfocused, lost in sensation and desire.

Although he didn't want to do it, and his body screamed at him in outrage, Sean made himself pull away, settling away from her even though his body wanted nothing more than to rub up against her hard. He ran a hand over his face and could smell the scent of Julia's hair on his skin, Jasmine with a cool touch of mint and melon. He had to stop, to allow time to collect himself. He was moving too fast, beyond their starting place where he tempted and teased her into a reaction. He wanted that reaction to be really her, and not something he solicited out of her reluctantly.

He felt a slight shift, and knew Julia had turned toward him, even before he felt the caress of the long-fingered hand on his cheek, tracing a wandering path down to his throat. Sean closed his eyes and moaned. A master’s touch. That was something he knew well, appreciated and understood. He felt like a treasured pet.

"It's like playing with fire," Sean said, leaning into the touch. "I never expected it to feel like this." It always took more, a touch of fire to bring him around, and here she was doing it with a gentle sweeping touch that somehow was equally moving and left a burn to his skin. So the next touch not only disarmed him, but damn near dropped him to his knee in a fit of orgasmic release.

Julia’s hand slapped him hard upside the back of his head, and pushed him off her. “Next time you blackmail me, I’ll toss your worthless ass on the ground and grind your balls to powder!” Sean barely had time to blink before her door slammed into his face.

He ran a hand over his face, and then down his body as a full body shake hit his frame. Oh damn. Perfect, so damn perfect! How many times did he have to tell her to stop making all her threats sound like a promise of pleasure?

~~~

Max followed Jonathan to his place after the wedding reception. It took longer than anyone expected for Jim and Amy take off. Michael whined and complained the entire time until finally it was done, and with a quick announcement to Maria’s family about her tired state, they disappeared home.

The food, including the cocktail weenies, had been incredible, and both Jonathan and Max were stuffed. But Jonathan suggested that Max join him at his place for a few games of pool, a beer and conversation. It was hard to say no with all those fantasies he had of Jonathan, coupled with an intense curiosity to see the man’s place, so they left the party. Jonathan stopped on his way out the door of the club to make sure that the cleaning staff came to clean up the remains and shipped all the leftover food to the Roswell Soup Kitchen. Looking back at the room, it appeared as though many of the guests were closing down the place with dancing and eating until the wee hours of the night, or until the club forced them out. Jonathan would have loved to see the establishment try to kick out the DeLucas.

They set up the pool game and Max watched Jonathan cream him again. “I don’t know why I bother. You’re too good at this.”

“I had lots of practice in college. I use to scam pool to pay for my beer fund.”

Max looked at him coughing. “You scamming me?”

Jonathan just laughed. “Of course. I’m good, but no one is that good.”

“Give me back my money.”

“Uh uh. You forfeited it since you didn’t figure it out. I confessed.” Jonathan just laughed at the outrage on Max’s face. Leaning close to the other man, he let his eyes drop suggestively to Max’s mouth and whispered. “Tell you what, Detective, I’ll try to make up for your loss.”

“How?” Max asked clearing his throat, and then licking his suddenly dry lips.

Jonathan just stood up and away from Max and finished his beer. Shrugging he teased Max. “I could make us something to eat.” Jonathan looked at Max with his deep dark eyes and shot the man a challenging look.

Max reached out and grabbed a fistful of Jonathan's dress shirt and said, still a little breathless, "C'mere," and Jonathan did. Leaning over him, and it only really took a moment for them to melt into each other comfortably.

"This okay?" Jonathan asked, sliding one hand into Max's hair.

"That's fine," Max answered, as he moved them back and settling backwards into the corner of the sofa in Jonathan’s game room.

"Lemme know if I'm pulling too hard." Jonathan said as he angled Max’s head to place his mouth along the other man’s skin.

"If you hear me screaming, you're pulling too hard."

Jonathan laughed. "Gotcha," he said, and he found Max's mouth just as Max worked his hand up under the back of Jonathan's dress shirt as Max pulled it from the waistband of his trousers. And as they realized that they weren't crushing each other or pinching or poking or pulling hair, they relaxed further still, and it was warm and soothing and a treat for the senses.

Jonathan had one hand on Max's head. Max reached up to untie the fastener that Jonathan used to keep his hair off of his face. His other arm was wrapped around Max's waist. Max had worked both of his hands under Jonathan's shirt, and was stroking and caressing the broad, smooth chest, the broad, smooth back. Jonathan murmured his appreciation into Max's mouth, and Max smiled to himself. He couldn’t wait to torment Michael with the details. Jonathan tipped them over, and they both fell back on the leather sofa, which was wide and accommodated them both were they lay. And they lay there for a while, just making out in the darkness with the light over the pool table giving the room its only glow, feeling slightly drunk on creature comforts, on the heat and pressure and taste of the other's body.

"Better than watching TV at home alone," Max murmured into Jonathan's ear after a while. He licked a circle around it, and Jonathan shuddered.

"We could talk," Jonathan answered softly, sliding a warm hand down Max's back and taking Max's mouth again. Max hand found the closures and studs to Jonathan’s shirt and he unfastened them, gathering them in his hand and then pushing them into his pants' pockets.

And then later still, while Max was massaging Jonathan's nipple he heard Jonathan groan softly. He liked the long lean look of him. The way his skin was silky, and yet peppered with hair and rougher than a woman’s. Max liked how he didn’t feel the need to be careful or delicate with Jonathan, and he could exert some pressure against his skin. It was a whole new world of sensations.

Max felt Jonathan drag his erection hard against his hip, and he blinked and realized that the thought of Jonathan all hard and excited pushing against him excited him, and suddenly it dawned on him that this could be more than groping, that there could be an orgasm at the end of all this. Jonathan seemed happy to follow Max’s lead, and let him call the shots. Max actually liked the idea of Jonathan being under him and he pulled Jonathan around and got half on top of him, into a position where he could move better against him.

And Jonathan seemed to understand what he was doing, and squirmed around to accommodate him, still glued to his mouth, still clutching him tightly, still pushing up against Max himself. And then suddenly, what started out as a friendly gropefest quickly turned into something more. They were there, somewhere else, and things began to spin out of control as they moved abruptly beyond groping, beyond creature comfort, kissing now with urgency, touching each other with hard, deliberate sexual purpose. Now Max's hand was moving roughly down Jonathan’s front to grasping Jonathan's c-ock through his pants, and Jonathan was grunting and grabbing at Max's hips. They were vibrating, shuddering, heaving and thrusting against each other instinctively, forcefully.

And Max was moaning, because sh-it, he was getting close , he was getting there. He was seeing a definite rush towards completion, and it was almost there . Jonathan was gasping raggedly underneath him, gripping him with bruising iron fingers and thrusting up powerfully, up hard against his palm, getting off on this, on him.

Jonathan murmured, roughly, "Come on, Max," and that did it - that and one more thrust against Jonathan's hip did it. Max gasped excitedly and came in his pants, the orgasm smashing into him and sending him reeling. And he heard Jonathan's stifled yell from beneath him and clutched at him tightly, wanting to feel him shaking, wanting to be there with him while he rode out the shock of it.

And then they lay there holding each other in the dim light of the room, both breathing hard.

"Wow," Max said, after a while.

"Yeah," Jonathan answered, absently stroking Max's hair. “So next time, I vote that we don’t do this in formalwear.”

"So, will you respect me in the morning?" Max asked, grinning into the darkness.

The answer floated back to him. "Who says I respect you now ?" and Max whacked Jonathan's chest hard with the palm of his hand. It was like hitting an unmovable object.

" You should talk," Max returned, grinning. "Face it, Jonathan, you're an easy lay."

“Well, hell yeah. But you’ll notice I still have my pants on. So I might be easy, but I was raised with values.” Jonathan reached up and nuzzled Max neck at the shoulder. “Next date I’ll let you get me out of my trousers.”

“Wouldn’t want to be a slut.” Max commented dryly.

“Exactly.”

Max laughed and settled down on the sofa next to Jonathan. And after thinking about it for a moment, felt compelled to ask. “So when’s the next date?”

Jonathan thought about it for a second and laughed. “Well I’m free for the rest of the evening.”

Max looked at him and made a goofy face gesturing to himself. “Me, too!”

“Well let’s go find some food. Strange, suddenly I’m famished.”

“You cook?” Max suddenly remembered his dream. “With balsamic vinegar?”

Jonathan stood up and reached down to pull Max up off the sofa. Moving in, he kissed him and moved his mouth against Max’s until he whimpered. “No, I can microwave leftovers. I’ll either have takeout in my refrigerator or whatever my housekeeper left for me.”

“That's strange. I would have sworn that you’d have more servants around. The house is huge for one person.”

“True. But I like my privacy. I own all the property around my house.”

Jonathan led Max down the hall towards the kitchen. “Staff comes in during the day to do cleaning, laundry and stuff, but in the evenings, I prefer to be alone, unless I invite company.”

Max nodded. That made sense. Explained why when he called Jonathan those few times he picked up his own phone and not some stuffy butler type. Max noticed a door and asked Jonathan about it. “Where does that go?”

“Sorry, my private cellar. There is where I keep my personal collection. No one’s allowed unless by invitation, only.” Jonathan stopped and moved in close to Max. “You’ve got to be very special to get invited there, or at least you have to advance beyond groping and hand jobs.”

“Aw, something to work towards.”

“Indeed.”

Max moved uncomfortably in his clothes that were damp and starting to feel sticky. “Jonathan, don’t think me too forward or just trying to come on to you or anything, but if you aren’t willing to lend me a shower and a change of clothes...I’m going to have to head home.” Max gestured to his formal tux trousers stained very much like Jonathan’s was. Great fun it was going to be taking these pants to the cleaners.

Jonathan just nodded. “Go up the stairs and down the hall to the door at the very end. It’s my bedroom. You can go through my closet and take whatever you want to borrow. The bathroom is the door past the walk-in closet, just go straight through.”

Max nodded, and was surprised when Jonathan pulled him back and kissed him quickly before pushing him towards the stairs. Max slowly ascended the stairs taking in the neat order of Jonathan’s place and the cleanness.

Finding the bedroom, Max avoided looking at the bed since his current fantasies over Jonathan were already imaginative enough, but adding the man’s actual bed to it would elevate them to another level. The walk-in closet and dressing room reminded him of the one Michael had at the loft, except Michael’s was full of chaos and disorder fronting as a storage room for all his hockey skates and shoes tossed about the place. Jonathan’s was neat and elegant, all the clothes neatly folded in a built-in wardrobe or hanging from unique pressing hangers in some specially organized manner.

Max felt slightly shy of searching the man’s drawers, but quickly found a pair of sweats and a t-shirt to replace his clothes. Shucking his clothes in the dressing room and closet, Max quickly found an empty hanger and neatly gathered all the parts to his tux and hung it from a hook and placed his socks neatly in his shoes. The sound of falling studs shocked him until he remembered he put Jonathan’s stud closures in the pocket of his pants. Gathering them up, he left them on top of a tallboy in the corner.

The bathroom was huge, and it took him a minute to figure out the lighting combination. Turning on the special light and heater to the shower, he stepped into the warm water. The shower was big like the one in Michael and Maria’s place. It was large and able to give the user maneuvering room instead of the small cubicle he associated with showers or the use of the bathtub head. This was nice.

“May I join you?” Max’s eyes closed and he moaned at the sound of the dark tones, the feel of the hard body coming up behind him, and Jonathan’s arms coming around him, to push him forward a little as he reached for some soap from the special dispenser. It was a dream again. It had to be.

“Jonathan...”

“Don’t freak. But if I didn’t get clean soon, I was going to die in a fit. The stuff was starting to itch.” Max couldn’t be more shocked that it was real, that Jonathan had removed his clothes and stepped into the shower with him. Oh sh-it. “Just think of it as taking a shower at the healthclub or the gym, and don’t drop the soap.”

Max looked back at Jonathan almost in horror. Jonathan laughed and held up his hands. “Just kiddin’, I swear.” They looked at each other under the raining of water. “Let’s just put this into perspective, okay? The only male-male relationship for me was over ten years ago in college. It involved mutual hand jobs, some groping, a crapload of kissing and blowjobs. That was it. The rest of the things involved in gay relationships, such as penetration? Still a virgin with a big clue, but no experience. So how far we go with this has to be a mutual learning thing.”

“So and your old roommate didn’t...” Max couldn’t finish the sentence.

“No. Not that he didn’t try. But I wasn’t that bowled over in the relationship not to realize that for a man...he was a slut looking to f-uck everything in sight. And even back then, I wasn’t the type of man who let himself be used.”

Max nodded not really noticing that Jonathan was moving soap over his skin. “Is that why you’re pushing me so hard, like at the restaurant the other day?”

“Yeah. I was sort of crude and mean. But I don’t want there to be any misunderstandings between us. I don’t want to be a new toy for you, a sensation that feels good that you couldn’t deny yourself, and then later wonder what the hell you got yourself into or why. Where we go, Max can stop at friends that occasionally like to grope each other, to f-uckbuddies, or even onto a real relationship. But I’m not going to go any of those places with you, or put myself out there if this becomes just an indecisive move you made that you later regret.” Jonathan moved in on him and extended his arms beyond Max to rest on the tiled wall as he leaned into Max’s back. Whispering in his ear, Jonathan put the ball in Max’s court. “You’re going to have to lead in this, Detective, because left to my own devices, you and I are going to be lubed up and all dirty and sweaty. So I’m asking you, what do you want?”

Max leaned back and closed his eyes, expelling the held breath from his mouth. Jonathan was a hard man in more ways than one. That hardened flesh pressing into Max was one thing, but he was also made of steel in his resolve. A nice change compared to Max and how he led his life over the last six years. It was his floundering indecisiveness that cost him Tess, and a chance at a life with her and ultimately his baby. There was a time when words had to be spoken, lines crossed and a time to grow up.

Taking Jonathan’s one hand, Max moved it to touch his torso just like his dream. And the other hand he pressed to his c-ock encouraging Jonathan to touch him more intimately than he ever let any other man touch him, outside of the standard male physical. But this touch was different, more intimate and it solicited a heady response.

“Is this what you want?”

“God, yes!” Max said repeating his words of the night before.

Jonathan turned Max to face him, and took Max’s hands and put them on his body. The two men stood watching each other as then moved their hands over the other, until both of them were staring through hooded eyes. Jonathan moaned and gave in to Max. He leaned in first and kissed the man, as their two bodies moved together, pushing against the other, hard and hard. Their hands added to the pressure as soapy slick skin moved against soapy slick skin.

Max's hand was on the back of Jonathan’s neck while his mouth tongued one of the man’s nipples. His other hand was slowly and methodically moving along the length of Jonathan’s c-ock. He had never held or touched another man in this way, but he just followed instinctually what he liked when he touched himself. Jonathan soft moans told him that it wasn’t all bad.

Jonathan’s mouth was sucking on the skin at the side of Max’s neck, and the pressure from Max’s hand held him there, as he too held Max’s c-ock in his hand and he slowly jerked him off, enjoying the feel and the response he was getting from Max. His other hand was hard on Max’s hip holding him close and moving his hips to thrust himself harder into Jonathan’s hand. Max looked up startled straight into Jonathan’s eyes when the man put their two erect c-ocks together and wrapped a hand around them both and began to thrust. Max’s eyes closed as he leaned into the bigger man and joined in the increasing rhythm. No one told him it actually felt this good. Their frenzied momentum increased and just at the moment of release, Jonathan swallowed Max’s response in a kiss as the water showered on them, slowly cooling. Jonathan rested for a few moments, before reaching around Max and turning off the water.

“Come to bed, Detective.”

~~~

Isabel had just barely made it out of the shower when her doorbell rang. The shift at the crisis center lasted longer than she expected since her relief was late getting there due to car problems. She had wanted to make the reception, at least to see Amy off, but once she was home, undressed and under the warm water, any thought of going out again was unappealing.

Standing in her bathrobe still wet from her shower, Isabel cautiously opened the apartment door just a slit, and seeing who was on her doorstep she opened it wider in surprise.

“Alex?” He was looking down at the ground, but looked up at her with dark eyes full of pain.

“I need you.”

Isabel reached out and pulled him inside as his mouth found hers. Slamming the door shut behind him as he entered, she was shocked to feel moisture on her face from his.

“Shhh, it’s okay. Come with me.” She took his hand and led him to her bedroom. Later...later she would wash and feed him, but now he needed other things more. Isabel didn’t know what else to say. Everything inside her was jumping and shaking. He had come to her.

~~~

Michael had managed not to lose it until they were back at the loft. Once there he grabbed Maria, shoved her up against the door that had just swung shut behind them and devoured her with his mouth. He felt her tremors as he held her, felt his own body shaking. It was a cathartic release, taking her the first time. It was rough, hard, almost mindless possession, seeking to confirm through physical contact that Maria was okay, that there were no handprints on her left by others. Maria took it well as he stripped her bare right there at the door except for her heels and searched every inch of her body. It was that driven feeling again, the rising need to touch her, hold her, and move over her until she was mindlessly calling his name.

It wasn't until after he'd assured himself that there were no marks hidden by other hands that held her while dancing, that he left his own marks. Maria was panting hard and fast at the feel of his body, his mouth and hands moving over her. The sucking of skin, the nipping and finally the bites he left sent her spiraling out of control, holding his body tightly to hers and demanding even more. It took some time for sanity to return to them both before he finally eased his bruising grip on her, holding her against him rather than clutching her tightly.

"I'm okay, Michael," Maria had murmured over and over again, while her fingers ran through his long tumbled hair, rubbing Michael's scalp. "I'm still here. Nothing happened. We’re fine." It was strange that through all that, she was stripped bare and he was still fully clothed with his pants undone.

"I hate not being able to touch you for so long. What would I do without you?" He tangled his fingers into her rich, soft hair, his mind seeking a connection to her, a joining. They were reaching places that he was uncertain about. There was something about her lately, something that acted on him. All day he had been unsettled by her absence and the physical distance between them.

"Michael..." Maria had grasped his head and tilted it back, brushing soft, gentle kisses across his face. "I'm fine, Detective. More than fine. Let me show you now..." She pulled him up the stairs leaving her clothes where they landed in the entryway. Once upstairs, she quickly located his favorite Metallica t-shirt that was almost see-through from all the washing it had seen. She grabbed the one other thing she needed from his closet before returning to the room to look at him. He had moved around the room lighting candles.

He was still in his tux with tails, and she came up behind him to remove the tailored jacket smoothing her hands along the grain of the cloth at his shoulders before pulling it off. Michael turned and watched her with half-closed eyes, narrowed in heaviness from desire, while his nostrils flared as he breathed in her scent.

Maria's fingers journeyed across Michael's face, rubbing the rough-soft whiskers.

“I should shave.”

"I like it," she said in a low tone. "It suits you."

A fine tremor ran through Maria's body and Michael felt the echo pass through him. He tilted her face up toward his and lowered his head, brushing his mouth lightly across her red swollen lips that he had kissed passionately downstairs. A tiny whimper came from her as his head moved down into the skin of her shoulder and neck. Michael brushed his lips over hers once again, then a third time. On the next pass he sealed their mouths together, pressing softly. Moist, warm lips opened for him and the sweetness within beckoned. He loved the touch of her tongue, the movement of it into his mouth and then the retreat beckoning his to follow into her warm mouth. He was barely aware of her hands slowly peeling him from his clothes.

More soft whimpers came from Maria, or maybe they were his now as her skin touched his? And as their arms twined about each other, drawing the other instinctively closer, he could feel her reaching for him in a pulling sensation. The kiss stayed soft, easy. It was a lazy, thorough exploration that spoke of love and intimacy, not sex. An ache grew in his chest, intensifying with each moment that he and Maria stayed entwined. He broke the kiss but pulled Maria closer to him, folding her into his arms, pressed against his chest, next to his heart.

They stood there for a long time, unaware of anything but each other. Michael closed his eyes to fully savor the moment of Maria warm and alive against him, just holding him. It was strange that he could tell Max what he felt in words, describe what she meant to him, but when he had her near and in his arms, words failed him. The feeling felt too big, too overwhelming and no words could ever hold enough meaning, so he reached out to her with everything inside him, opened all the doors of his soul and invited her inside hoping that somehow she could feel all the things that he left unnamed.

He smiled to himself when she pushed him back onto their bed. He never realized that she had so thoroughly stripped him of his clothes, but there they were, naked on their bed with her wearing only his shirt and her heels. She smiled at him with a look so full of mischief he actually had a moment of worry as her hand clasped his and pulled it up over their heads, as their mouth melted into another kiss.

The clicking noise of his handcuffs cinching around his wrist, made him look up at their joined hands. She fastened him to the bed. And sitting up, straddling his hips he watched as she placed the key on the bedside table before her whole body moved along his running her mouth against his skin. His eyes jumped in anticipation, because one thing he had learned about Maria over the last year was she had a pure evil streak in her that was nothing if not admirable and extremely inventive in bed. He watched her with desire-darkened eyes, silent as his blood sang and screamed for more, and his heart clamored to the beat of a music that existed between them alone.

Mr. Booboo returned from his nightly rounds of the neighborhood territory carrying a small live field mouse by its head. Giving it a nip, he dropped the dead rodent at the foot of the bed as he jumped up to view his pets. They were fast asleep in each others' arms. The larger emotional one who dispensed great meat portions...his arm was stretched over his head, connected in some way to the bed. The smaller gentle one with the soft voice and soothing hands was sleeping on top of him. The covers were gone and their legs were intertwined together disrupting one of Mr. Booboo’s favorite places to sleep. He couldn’t even rest in the spot next to his new pet, because the smaller one's stomach was mated to the larger one's. Sitting beside them almost in disgust at being denied his favorite sleeping place, he calmly cleaned his paws and washed his ears until suddenly something shiny caught his attention.

~~~

When Max finally made it home, it was after seven in the morning. He tried not to make too much noise and wake Isabel. But his effort was a lost cause. Isabel was already up and making breakfast in the kitchen. She was standing in her bathrobe and bare feet looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Max.”

“Iz.”

“Long party?”

“Yeah, something like that.” Max looked at his sister as he put down his tux in a garment bag and went to sit at the kitchen bar. “I take it you didn’t make it there, even later?”

“No. I was too tired, and...” Before Isabel could finish, Alex came out of the back room wearing nothing but his jeans and shoes. He pulled a t-shirt over his head, but not before Max had a nice view of the marks on his body along with the usual tattoos and piercings. “Alex! I was making some breakfast.”

Alex just looked at Max and nodded distractedly. “Can’t. I’ve got things I need to get done today before opening.” Isabel hurried out from the kitchen and followed him to the door. “I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Alex...at least take a cup of coffee?” Isabel didn’t want him to just leave.

“I can’t. I really have to go.” Alex pulled her to him and rested his forehead against hers to let her know that he wasn’t just f-ucking her and running. “We’ll talk soon, I promise. Just as soon as this is over, okay?”

Isabel nodded, but still frowned. “Let me come to the club and keep you company.”

“No!” Both Max and Alex said it at the same time. She looked at both men and then looked at Alex again.

“Okay. I’ll stay away.”

“Thank you.” Alex kissed her, and then took her in his arms and kissed her even deeper. “It’s not forever, just until this situation is over.” He gave her a long look and then was out the door. Isabel stood there staring after him with her hand on her mouth.

“He’s gone, Iz. You can shut the door now.”

Isabel calmly shut the door and went back into the kitchen to finish making breakfast even though she no longer felt hungry. Avoiding Max’s eyes, she didn’t want to get into it over Alex. All the lectures would have a tinge of truth, and that made it worse. How could she explain that it was more than just her addictive nature holding her to Alex?

Isabel just knew that one step towards recovery was not avoiding. So she looked up at her brother. And his unshaven face and a mark on his neck drew her interest.

"I thought you were going to the party with Jonathan.”

“I did.” Max tried to feign interest in what she was cooking. “That isn’t a frittata?”

“Max, is that a hickey? Did you meet someone new at the wedding?"

Max didn't even think about his answer, "Jonathan was my date."

Isabel was thoughtful for a moment and then said, "Oh," and about thirty seconds later, " Oh. F-uck. Really?"

Max stopped himself from covering the mark on his neck with his hand. So instead he faked nonchalance, and said, “Yeah, really.”

"Just so I have this...just so I know I'm not overreacting--that hickey is from the application of someone's mouth, someone who isn't a woman like usual...I mean, not that you're exactly covered with hickeys at all times , but..." Isabel stopped and blew her breath out and said. "Jonathan gave you that hickey? With your participation? I mean...I’m assuming that you didn’t deck him or put him in the hospital, unless you sat up all night to make sure he made it out of surgery so the charges would be assault and not manslaughter.”

"Yeah, it was Jonathan, and yes it was with my consent," said Max. “There wasn’t a gang of rabid sexual molesters stalking the party doing drive-by hickey assaults.” Max reached over and ate a handful of the ingredients Isabel was chopping for what he was praying to be an omelet. “Though, a few of Maria’s cousins look quite capable of doing just that. And...they weren’t just women.”

“Oh!” Isabel busied herself with cooking, uncertain what else to say. She was hardly a walking paragon of good relationship choices. She stopped chopping and realized that the description applied to Michael. That was scary enough to send her on a chopping frenzy. "So, are you sleeping with him?"

"I'm not sure. Not yet." Max rubbed the back of his neck. “Yes.”

"Okay. I’m going to have to insist that you choose one answer."

“I spent the night in his bed. We did things, and none of them were...unpleasant. We also didn’t do other things...all which was way outside my comfort range. So I slept with him. Yeah, I slept with him.”

“Oh.” Isabel poured the egg mixture in a pan and began sprinkling topping on it as it bubbled. “Did you suck his dick?”

“Isabel!” Max ran his hand over his eyes. Dammit, what the hell! This was more detail than even he could get into.

“Sorry, just asking. I mean, I don’t know how experienced you are, but…” Isabel noticed the rising color on his cheeks. “I’m just saying that if you need pointers or something...”

“Oh God! I’m not going to ask my sister for pointers on how to suck dick. Jesus, Isabel!”

Isabel just laughed at Max’s discomfort and rising blush. “Don’t say I never offered!” Isabel pushed some toast into the toaster and poured Max and herself a glass of orange juice.

“I’m going to try real hard to forget that you offered.” Max went and grabbed two plates, napkins and flatware.

“Suit yourself.” She took the hashbrowns out of the oven where she left them to crisp. Splitting them between their two plates and then adding half of an omelet and toast to each of them, she took a mouthful of food. “So Jonathan, huh?”

Max looked at his sister and nodded. “Whitman, huh?”

Isabel just nodded as well, and then the two Evans looked at each other and suddenly broke down in laughter.

~~~

“Maria!”

Her voice came out of the bedroom downstairs, “I’m looking! Geez. Keep your pants on!”

“I don’t have any pants on!” Michael looked at his handcuffed wrist and rattled it as if it would magically open. Looking at the bedside table again, he couldn’t see the key.

“Let me call Sean!” She was tossing the place, searching high and low for the mysteriously missing key.

“No!” Michael shouldn’t take it out on Maria, because if the position were reversed, he would find her handcuffed to their bed very inspiring and just somehow...right.

Maria ran upstairs, but before he could say anything she rushed into the bathroom. He could hear her being sick. Looking at his chained hand again, he just put his head back and closed his eyes. When she finally emerged, she looked pale and gaunt.

“You okay?” Maria just nodded and climbed back onto the bed next to him, falling asleep almost immediately. He quickly ran his free hand over her skin and was relieved to find it was warm to the touch. It was just the standard morning sickness. Michael looked at the clock and swore. They were scheduled to meet the DeLuca clan for brunch in less than two hours, and then see them off at the airport.

Michael reached down to the floor beside the bed as best he could, and pulled the bedding up and over them, covering Maria’s body to keep her warm. She was curled up next to him, and thankfully not concentrating on sleep like she had been lately, but just as resting peacefully.

Finally sighing in frustration, he reached for the phone.

“Yeah, make it snappy, you’re waking the dead.” Michael muttered as he listened to the ring at the other end.

“Sean, it’s Michael. Wake the dead, get dressed and get over to the loft now. Bring a damn handcuff key.” Michael didn’t even bother to wait for a response, but just disconnected the phone. Sean was the logical choice. He had a key to the loft.

Michael heard a disgruntled meow and looked down at the floor. There was Mr. B, upset that no one had noticed nor commented on his latest offering. The dead field mouse was hanging out of his mouth.

“You didn’t have anything to do with a missing handcuff key, did ya?”

Mr. Booboo, too offended for words, felt the besmirching of his good character was more than enough and took himself off to find better things. But not before leaving the mouse on the bed next to a sleeping Maria. Michael looked over at her body and tried to reach the dead rodent to swipe it off the bed before Maria inadvertently rolled over on it. He couldn’t reach it. So he hooked his one remaining free arm around Maria and held her tight to his side until Sean showed up.

Michael had fallen back to sleep and woke to the sound of the downstairs door opening.

“Michael?”

“Upstairs!”

Sean took the stairs two at a time cursing his lungs when he reached the top huffing and puffing, but the sight of Michael handcuffed to the bed took away his bad humor.

“Oh give me a camera!”

“I swear, Sean...”

“Oh, keep your pants on.” Sean looked down at the two and smiled. “Nevermind, obviously you aren’t wearing any.”

“Just get these damn things off me!”

“Shhh, quiet. You’ll wake M, and she looks like she can use the rest.” Sean chuckled as he fit the key into the cuffs and unlocked them. “Here. A spare. I, for some reason, seem to have quite a few pairs of handcuffs at my place with extra keys.”

“Figured as much. Maria searched the downstairs bedroom hoping you left a few behind.”

“You realize that you and Maria shouldn’t play with these grownup toys if you’re ill-equipped to deal with them? What if there had been a fire?”

“Save the lectures. I watched Maria place the key on the bedside table, and this morning it was gone.”

“Hmm, a mystery. Well being the great detective that I am, I surmise that...”

“It’s the damn cat, okay? But not a word to Maria. If she finds out that we think we're harboring a kleptomaniac cat, she’ll put us in group therapy.”

“How long have you suspected?”

“Over a week. My belt was missing, along with some small items like Maria’s earrings, and then Kyle’s keys.”

“You can add one of my tie pins, a clip from my Glock and a few other items from when I stayed here last.”

“Damn.” Michael rubbed his wrist. “The Boo has been all weird lately.” Sean’s eyebrows shot up. “Okay--stranger than usual. He went all crazy when we left him for the weekend, he started taking shiny objects, he’s shredded almost twenty pairs of my white cotton athletic socks and he kills something for Maria every day.”

“Maybe he knows she was sick and wanted to ‘feed’ her? Cats are territorial. He’s either jealous of the new baby or he’s nesting, preparing for its arrival. The shredded socks? I'm thinking he's building a nice comfy nest for the baby, with lots of trinkets to use as baby gifts.”

“Yeah, I figure the same. I just need to find his secret stash. I want my damn belt back.”