Twice Over

by perryvic, Zaganthi (Caffiends)

Chapter 2

Halloween had been a week later, and while there'd been no dressing up Jeannie for going out, Grant had dressed up as a cardboard box robot, complete with blinking lights, and had handed out candy to all of the kids who came to the door. They'd had Rocky Horror Picture Show on TV, and Rodney had sort of delighted in that. Just watching it -- bad and campy and *weird*, and Grant had liked the music. He wondered if it was some kind of subliminal message from Lachlan to Rodney that he'd found that flier from the coffee shop.

The coffee shop was the best place in town to *find* things. Groups, people, they put up fliers for things like tag sales and parties and book clubs. Liz had found a knitting group that was people who were pretty young and knitted, and George mostly perused them and scoffed, but Lewis had pointed the one out to Rodney about the Halloween party, and he'd taken one of the fliers home. Just a Halloween party at a gay bathhouse, when Rodney hadn't known that things like that *existed*. He'd had to look bathhouse up in an encyclopedia at the library while Grant collected Garfield books to check out. Going to the party hadn't been an option, but...

Rodney still had the address to the place.

There had been a growing urge, a need to do something, try something because no matter all the words that Carson said to him, he felt hollow inside and there was an itch in him that needed to be scratched, if only to prove his sexuality wasn't irrevocably wired to incest.

Because if he only got *really* turned on with his brother, he was in trouble and needed more help than he'd thought. Lewis was... interesting. Rodney was clearly an experiment for him, though, and they hadn't gotten very far. And Rodney wasn't pushing because he liked Lewis' company too much to lose it.

He didn't have enough friends to ever risk them. Which was why he was never going to make any sort of move on Carson.

So tonight, instead of heading to the Coffee Shop, he was heading to a gay bathhouse with the less than stellar name 'Millennium'.

He'd traveled light -- car keys, ID, license, money. Nothing more, nothing too important. He'd brought a towel, and flip-flops, and hoped that he was at least trying to observe the rules. It seemed about right, bringing a towel and flip-flops. The problem had been getting them out of the house and into his car without anyone seeing. So, he'd done it two days ago and kept them in his trunk.

He managed to gain entrance to the bathhouse by virtue of dressing older than he was, and flashing a university ID . People assumed a certain age with those, either that or they didn't really care too much.

It was a whole other world in there, a new and interesting one as he tried to follow everyone’s lead about what to do.

He walked down the dingy hallway after he'd paid his fee, and it was kind of surprising that the place got *less* dingy once he was inside, and standing in the tile-floored locker-room. The walls were lined with coin-lockers, and from the way other people were moving, he guessed that was where he was supposed to strip off.

There were some guys in there eyeing him up already, some a lot older, some young enough to be close to his age that they might be barely legal. Some already in pairs.

He started to disrobe a little self-consciously.

The whole *point* was to be looked at and seen, and he hoped he was, but at the same time, he didn't want to just be dismissed. So Rodney concentrated on moving in as cool a fashion as he could muster. He pulled his shirt off, then sat on a bench to take his shoes off, not particularly looking at anyone.

He listened to the locker room chatter, about the various rooms. Things regulars knew like keeping a towel on while walking around between rooms, what rooms were open, what doors meant when they were closed. He just hoped that when he did go into the baths and sauna someone might be interested enough to approach him.

Because his nerves were wound too tight to *do* any approaching, but he hoped he could exude the come on hard air enough. Once he had his shoes off, he stood up and started to shimmy out of his jeans.

"Hey," a guy who was in his mid twenties was getting undressed beside him. "New here?" He was pretty obvious in his approach, but also not bad looking.

"Yeah. I've uh. Never been to a bath house before." Rodney threw in a smile that he hoped was confident, and he slid his boxers down.

"You'll like it." the man said confidently. "Nice ass," he commented. "Name's Al."

Possibly, Rodney decided as he wrapped a towel around himself, and tucked it in at the edge, he might be better off going by a different name. "I'm Mer," he said, stuffing everything except a coin into the locker.

"Well Mer, want me to show you the ropes?" Al said with a half smirk. "I won't keep you if your attention wanders elsewhere. I like the meet and greet."

He half wanted to explore all by himself, but... "Sure." Rodney slipped the coin in, and took the key for his locker.

They headed off towards the baths, and true to his word Al pointed out where everything was before they entered one of the chambers and Al stripped off completely. "Come and meet some of my friends Mer."

There was a low sort of pool, and the water was steamy. There were guys in the water, other guys, and Rodney was slow to take his towel off. "Hi."

"Hey guys, this is Mer," Al said. "He's new here."

He slipped into the water, smiling a little.

"He looks new to pretty much everything," an older man said with a smirk. "Here alone kid?"

"Yeah." Rodney moved to sit in the water, just so he was a little less on display. "I thought I should give this place a try, once I heard about it."

Relax, he had to relax but there was a whole host of them just watching him, aside from the two at the far end apparently making out a little. He wasn't sure if that was allowed.

"It's good if you've got an itch you want to scratch, if you know what I mean," another man said and laughed a little. "Plenty of opportunities here if that's what you're looking for."

He was looking to 'scratch' that itch, but the guys there seemed... he wasn't sure. Not his type, not that Rodney knew if he had a type. They all looked a little lecherous -- it had to be possible to be there for some casual sex without looking like slavering dogs, wasn’t it? Rodney sank into the water a little more, up to his chest, trying to relax. "I'm still thinking about what exactly I want."

"Oh, a bit of experimentation huh?" Al asked pleasantly enough. "Well, there'll be a queue in for that."

"You hear Jack's in tonight?" another man said, obviously not interested that much in Rodney and more with local gossip.

"You're kidding? I wouldn't've thought he'd have the stamina," Al replied distracted. "Maybe he's looking for someone new?"

"Hah, yeah in your dreams. The man's a sex-god or something."

The older man snorted. "I've heard he looks good but's a lousy lay."

Local gossip was the last thing Rodney was interested in, so he glanced over to Al -- who was young, close enough to Rodney's own age. Do-able. Not as compelling as Lewis, but not bad. Rodney wished he'd done a better job of *looking*, and less time being embarrassed to be there, naked. "I'd sort of like to experiment, yeah. I'd like to get overwhelmed."

"Really?" Al seemed a bit surprised at that. "Some sort've fantasy of yours?"

The others were carrying on their gossip about who was fucking who and what they were doing.

Rodney knew what Grant looked like when he flushed red, so he was pretty sure he looked the same. "Yeah, it's a fantasy of mine. You have to have a few fantasies, huh?"

"Hell yeah," Al said. "Look, you want that, we can... arrange it, but why don't we just hang out a bit. Evening's young, and that sorta thing should be a climax right?"

It was hard for Rodney to not really grin when Al seemed to settle into the idea. "Sure. It'd certainly make for a great night." He sank into the water, and relaxed. The water was warm, almost hot, and he was sitting in a naked bath with complete strangers and not freaking out. Naked strangers who may or may not play with his ass.

He tried to not dwell too hard on that, and decided to make small talk with Al and the others -- the usual thing, names that he'd never remember, vague suggestions of jobs that he'd never remember. Al was a 'student', though Rodney was willing to bet that he was a fine arts guy.

He seemed up front and nice enough and they even touched a little, deliberately and as the night went on, he relaxed in his company, even went with him to peek in on some of the rooms that welcomed voyeurs.

Watching other people have sex made his dick tent out the towel a little. There was one guy who was sliding himself up and down on some other guy's dick like it was a pogo stick. Rodney had to reach down and slip a hand between the flap of his towel to sort of guide down his dick. There was another room where a younger guy was getting flattened onto a bed, just battered, and Rodney wondered what that *felt* like. And now that they were in the separate rooms area of things, Rodney knew that they'd find an empty room, soon.

Sure enough, Al led him off somewhere away from the main area and told him to hold on as he fetch some others. It wasn't anywhere fancy and it was a little nerve wracking just waiting until people drifted in. More people than he had considered, standing in the dim light.

He'd grabbed a bunch of condoms, and there were little packets of lube, and he'd decided to just ... not let his nerves get to him. There were, at a quick headcount, eight guys. Well, looking at it logically... "Who wants to start?"

One of the older guys from the back pushed forward and okay, he wasn't someone Rodney might've selected but he was beyond that now. He wanted to do this, do something.

He barely registered movement by the door as the older guy was gripping him and then a voice saying, "What the hell do you think you're all doing?"

A man walked in naked, totally uninhibited as if he had every right to interrupt.

"Fulfilling a fantasy, Jack " Al spoke up. "Mer's fantasy."

"Are you all blind?" 'Jack' replied. "Seriously, you're going to gangbang a *virgin ass*?"

Okay, that was a little assuming. He wasn't a *virgin*. He'd, he and Grant had done that. He knew enough to know that he choked back a laugh every time Lachlan or Carson said 'hurts like buggery' because it didn't hurt and it did and that was just too much information for either of them. "Hey, uh, do I get to be involved in this conversation?"

Some of the men were looking a bit discomfited, others looked all the more eager.

Al shifted. "Mer? Tell me you've done this sort of thing before right?"

"Just, uh. One guy. A few times." One guy that he really trusted, and maybe, maybe it had been a bad idea, but still. He *wanted* to.

Al paled a little. "Shit... I..uh. I thought... you seemed to up for it..."

"He can still be up for it," one of the older men said getting closer. "Not all of us back off just because Harkness says so. The boy wants it, the boy is gonna get it."

"Yeah, I don't think so." The man called Jack walked over to put himself between Rodney and the others. "Sorry fellas, no rape for you tonight. "

That was really un-called for -- after all, he was *there*, he was *asking*, he was pretty damn sure that it wasn't rape. But the gang was starting to break up, and Rodney's hopes for the night sort of sank. Shit, what was he supposed to do? Say 'no, hey, I really *do* want it', except not so much. There were a couple of those older guys who had that look in their eyes that bothered him, where-as Al didn't. "I *was* up for it. Dammit."

The man who had effectively spoiled everything turned around and he really was ridiculously good looking. "No, kid, you weren't. Sit down, I think we need a bit of a talk, and god help me if anyone who knew me heard me talking about responsible sex... The irony might kill them."

Older than Rodney, without a doubt, but his face seemed easy going, and his hair was short, brown and a little wild. Rodney kept his eyes on the man, and sort of subtly groped for his towel so he could cover himself again. "A *talk*?"

The 'gang' was breaking up, heading out, and Al sort of lingered in the doorway. It made Rodney almost want to apologize. Almost.

"A talk," the man repeated firmly and looked over to Al. "You can hook up with him another time... and just check a bit more next time okay?" he said to Al who nodded and disappeared.

Whoever this guy was he had enough of a reputation to see off a gang of eight guys with just his say so. There was a bit of an edge to him. "Look...Mer, right? Look, that whole thing could've gone really bad on you. You've got to be more careful about hits sort've thing."

Rodney rubbed at his face, and decided to study the wall for at least a few seconds. "I don't see how it could've gone badly."

"Oh, right... You wanted to end up in an emergency room with internal bleeding?" Jack asked. "Believe me, that's what would've happened with that group. I'm not exaggerating - I've done pretty much something of everything you can imagine and yeah, that's happened to me. This guy you've been with? Your sort've age and likes you? Well these guys are bigger, older and... well they don't particularly need to like you."

He slouched a little, finally looking over to Jack. "I just told Al I wanted to be overwhelmed. I was looking for something..." He waved one hand a little. "Intense. Are you seriously lecturing me while wearing a towel?"

Jack arched an eyebrow at him. "I could take it off. And there are safer ways to be overwhelmed Mer," he said and grinned at him, the smile dazzling. "You don't need 8 guys for that... just one really, really good one." He spread his hands as if to say ‘and here he is’ in a self mocking fashion.

If this 'Jack' guy was half as good at it as he *looked*, then it was little wonder why the guys in the bath had talked about him so much. "Is... that an offer?"

"Could be, because I'm pretty sure you're going to keep coming back until you get something,” Jack said. "And you're young and trying to push something out of your head. That sort've thing doesn't just vanish because someone says so."

For a moment his eyes looked a lot older than he had any right to be. "You want experience, I've got more experience than all the brothels and bathhouses in Canada."

"Somehow I don't think there's that many of them," Rodney snorted, but he sort of awkwardly shuffled his towel off of his lap again. "You're really, really good looking, so it's believable, though."

“Possibly the only believable thing about me," Jack answered smiling at him and then he purposefully lay back and sprawled. "You wanna tell me what's got you so hot for it?"

Not really, but he was a quick enough thinker to come up with a good half-truth. "I've had a bad month, and the guy I used to, uh, be with" -- and if possible, he wasn't sure that he could've used *more* immature and childish comparisons -- "we're not allowed to be together anymore. It's been months, and I miss being physical with another person."

"Mm, well that I can oblige with. Do you top or bottom?" he asked.

"I usually bottom." Just from Grant's preference, and somewhere it had become his own. Grant didn't like anything near his ass, and Rodney understood why, so it just hadn't ever been any other way.

Jack propped himself up on an elbow. "Ever tried topping? " he asked. "Sometimes it's easier to start out with someone that way around if you know your own tolerances."

Rodney shifted, trying to get himself to relax. "I'm not really sure I could. I, uh, have some hang-ups."

"Mm." There was something about the tone of Jack's murmur that made it obvious he had an idea of what he was talking about. "What do you know you like?” he asked and reached out a hand to draw him closer.

Okay, the hand was nice. Rodney shifted, and reached a hand out to stroke Jack's side, letting his fingers slide over muscle and skin. "I know I like... touching, exploring. I like a lot of foreplay." Which, if he thought about it, he wasn't sure he'd been going to get with the earlier idea. "I, uh. Like giving blowjobs."

"Then you'll always be popular," Jack said with a smile. "Come and explore - not going to stop you."

"Okay." Rodney closed his eyes for a minute, to psych himself up, and he laughed when he opened his eyes, leaning to press a kiss to Jack's chest. "Yeah, uh. I probably wasn't ready for what I got myself into. I'm nervous just doing this."

"Glad to see I can reduce people to quivering nerves just by lying here," Jack replied and his warm hands were ghosting over Rodney's skin. "Some guys... don't have very wholesome tastes. Later you might figure you want to try things like that but even I'd think twice about that. Do you want to give me a proper kiss?"

He didn't answer with a 'yes', because it was easier to shift, leaning up a little to kiss Jack's mouth. Just tentative, just exploring. At least, that was his starting goal.

It soon progressed because Jack could sure as hell kiss back. It started slow and built to a crescendo of contact in a way guaranteed to make his head spin as he pressed against him and supported the back of his head and neck with one hand while smoothing him with the other.

Tongue was the focal point of it -- the other guy, Jack, whoever, his *tongue* in Rodney's mouth, sliding in and out in a mimicry of fucking that sent twinges down to Rodney's balls.

"Not bad," Jack murmured breaking for air. "Not bad at all. You're a pretty good kisser. Remember to... explore a little." He moved in and kissed him again.

Give back, give as good as he took, kissing Jack again and remembering to move his hands, tracing Jack's body, feeling the suggestion or ribs, the muscles above and below, smooth skin, but still different. Age made a difference.

There was more bulk there, even lean and muscled and there was something addictive about kissing like that, breaking enough to inhale air and then diving back in. Jack was exploring his body at the same time as he was experimenting with him.

"Gorgeous," Jack said and smiled. "Have you ever had a blowjob Rodney?"

"Yeah. I have. I wouldn't say no to one.” Rodney shifted a little, leaned back far enough to look at Jack.

"How about we do that to loosen you up and save mine for the main event?" Jack suggested even as he twisted to move position. "You know, you can't ever have too much foreplay with these things."

Rodney shifted, stretched to lie on his back while Jack moved, a swapping of position. "No, you really can't. I, I guess I thought since I offered I had to... go through with it. Them, not you. You're no-pressure."

"Mer," Jack looked up at him. "You can always say no. To anything, and if people don't respect that, it's rape. You have the right to change your mind. If you get into the bondage stuff, you have the right to safeword at any moment. That's what it's all about."

"What's a safeword?" Rodney kept touching Jack while he asked that, sliding his thumb over to rub against a nipple.

"Mm, something you might need to know about," Jack said kissing up his thighs and talking between kisses. "Some people like to have sex where they are tied and unable to move, or even mixed with pain, or have a desire to submit or make others submit. In a situation like that, the one who is helpless has a safeword as opposed to just saying no or stop, because that might be part of the fun. Sex is a pretty complicated with more variations than you'd believe."

"No, I'd believe it. I want to learn some of the better ones." The kisses to his thighs made his dick hard, and he could feel it with every heartbeat, echoing like a second beat. "Oh, god."

"Mmm," Jack nuzzled at his cock, and licked at it as if tasting it for flavor. Then he settled in for the serious business of sucking him.

*That* was new. That, that feeling was determined and new, and Rodney wanted to move, squirmed up into Jack's mouth, and then he leaned up, onto his elbows, because just a quick sight of Jack's lips wrapped around his dick was fantastic.

Half the time he was memorizing what he was doing, the rest of the time he was awash with pleasure at the heat and the movement and oh god, he wanted it to last forever.

It wasn't going to. Nothing lasted forever, but it could linger, and he wanted *that*, he wanted to feel it linger. It was different when a guy knew what he was doing, when he wanted to *be* there, when he wanted to thrust his hips upwards and drive the moment himself.

Jack was doing things that felt fantastic, that he wanted to know how to do even as he started moving despite his best efforts to not to. To his surprise that just seemed to spur the other man onwards as if he was delighted by the evidence of his need.

Huh. He was used to *not* reacting, to keeping it quiet, to keeping it hidden, to *being* quiet, and Jack seemed to like the more motion side of things, and the more Jack sucked and slurped and pressed his tongue against the head of Rodney's dick. "Please, please..."

He was doing things, touching his balls at the same time and slipping fingers back there in a teasing fashion and that was stirring a completely different need in him.

He wanted Jack to push those fingers in, wanted Jack to do all of the lead up to and then fuck him. "Yeah, that's that feels good."

Jack removed his mouth from his cock a moment and looked up at him with a surprisingly boyish expression of mischief. "Some people don't like to be fingered while they're having a blow job." He deliberately huffed over Rodney’s wet cock and the drying moisture set all sorts of sensations to the pit of his stomach as Jack reached for the lube to coat his fingers. His mouth felt even hotter by the time he started again and this time there was slick fingers teasing his ass, and working their way in.

"Oh, I think I like it. I think I like it a lot..." It startled him, when Jack pushed one finger slowly in, because his dick twitched hard in Jack's mouth, left him feeling a little frantic.

The 'hmm' noise that Jack made at that also sent unbearable vibration around the sensitive skin of his cock and Jack eased the finger back and then forward again, repeating the motion and stretching at him carefully.

Yes, yes. Fuck, yes. He wanted to keep moving, stretching for the little motion of Jack's finger, because it hit that particular spot that made him want to come every time, and then hit it again.

Two fingers then, and that was starting to feel stretched. Fuck, his climax felt like it was twisting itself up and he wasn't going to be able to hold back much longer.

"Close, I'm, I'm close, you're so damn good at this, you..." Amazing, and Rodney didn't know how he did it. It was just mouth and hands.

"Come for me Mer," Jack murmured as he went for it with the very obvious intention that he wasn't going to let up until he did come. Mouth, tongue, fingers, heat and slickness never stopping, just increasing in pace and tempo like one of his Rachmaninoff pieces, cascading and raw with passion all at the same time.

Except there was no tidy-ending, and Rodney moved with it, followed it through as far as he could until his fingers were tight on Jack's shoulders and then he *was* coming.

It was a firework burst of a climax and it left him momentarily dazed enough that he didn't notice Jack move up to wrap around him in a warm embrace, not for a few moments at least. In that moment he had no doubts that this was his preference, no doubts, no psychological traumas or anything.

He liked men. It wasn't something he was going to have to wonder about or bring up with his therapist. Rodney shifted, moving his arms sluggishly to touch Jack, hold him in turn. "Mmmh. That was amazing."

"My ego is duly flattered," Jack smiled. His own erection was hot and hard against Rodney’s skin and there was a good feeling about that too. Evidence someone wanted him, really wanted him and found him attractive. "It's all about technique. Something tells me you'll be a quick study."

"Let me return the favor," Rodney half asked, mostly offered, kissing Jack again.

"I'm saving myself for your ass," Jack said and his eyes were a clear blue when Rodney looked at them. "Unless you don't want to do that... in which case I'll gladly take you up on it."

"No, if you're going to save yourself for something, I think my ass would appreciate the attention." If he was going to give his ass a personality, at least.

Jack chuckled a little at that and stroked at his hair kissing him again. "If I'm going to be the one giving advice here as well as imparting the wisdom of my sexual experience, don't label yourself as gay Mer, because you don't want to miss out on love because you've got yourself into a mind set. I've seen too many people do that. Besides, being bi-sexual doubles your chances of getting laid. Simple math."

"I've had some bad experiences with women." And just physically, he could apparently meet a complete stranger and find himself ridiculously turned on over the man.

Jack nodded a little as if he understood and maybe he had given away something more than he was intending there. He was looking straight into his eyes as if he peering into his head and said. "You are someone special Mer, never forget that," and it should've, could've sounded trite but Jack seemed to mean it and that really shook him.

Rodney stretched, shaking his head a little as he moved. "Weirdly, I hear that a lot."

"Do you believe it?" Jack asked as he started stroking over skin again.

"Sometimes." When it had to do with his intellect, mostly. He savored his intellect, but his body... He was still adjusting to.

"Mmm." Jack nuzzled at his neck. "Believe it. Say it to yourself if you have to. At the end of the day, most people are not going to bother to look past their own short-sighted preconceptions so you have to wave your assets around some." He smiled again. "And particularly fine assets you have Mer."

"You're only saying that to get into my pants." Rodney laughed it, though, a relaxed sort of scoff while he stretched his legs, spreading them a little. "Should I turn over?"

"Well, that depends, " Jack said. "Ever done it face up?"

Yeah, he'd done that a lot. He'd done it a lot and Jack distracted Rodney with a kiss against the muscle that headed towards his collarbone. It left Rodney feeling like a dog with an involuntary itch to scratch. "All the time. My brother and me used to--" Oh, shit.

Jack paused a moment, hand stilling. "Brother?" he murmured. "That explains part of it." He exhaled a little. "Mer, don't ever say that in front of anyone else okay? This is not a time and place who would be even remotely tolerant to incest. You were abused right? By a female relation?"

He'd gone as still as Jack had. "Yeah, uh. Shit. Shit. This is what I get when I relax, I just, forget I said anything."

"Look," Jack sighed. "Doesn't make any difference to me, seen a few cultures where it is normal even. I'm pretty flexible with my thinking but right here, right now? People aren't like that. People have secrets Mer... I have more than a few. I've paid my way with my body more than once and there would be people who'd call me a whore for that. Doesn't bother me, but it bothers them so I don't talk about it. "

He was offering him a secret in kind as well as if that evened things out somehow.

It sort of wasn't the same, but Jack seemed bright, *sharp*, and Rodney wanted to ask why he'd done it. But it didn't seem right, so he didn't ask. "Okay. I can understand that."

"Good. So...front or back? I'll go with your preference as you've done both," Jack said rubbing his cock against him just a little.

Back was good for slow, front was good for... overwhelmed, Rodney decided. "Front. I like the way your expressions change."

"I'll make sure to pull some strange ones to keep you interested," Jack said reaching for the lube and condoms. “Okay then, let's see if I can fuck you until you come again."

"I don't think that's ever happened." But he was starting to feel a little less than completely soft, and Jack was rock hard. Rodney shifted, moved to open a condom. "Let me put it on."

"Knock yourself out," Jack said smiling a little as he watched him. "You've got very deft fingers."

Rodney decided to just soak it in. He put a little of the lube at the tip, and leaned up to roll it down the length of Jack's dick.

Jack seemed to appreciate it. "You want to slick me up too?" he suggested.

"My pleasure." He could idle a hand slowly over Jack's dick, feel him up and down, and Rodney wanted to do that a lot. Jack was a good-looking man. He poured some of the lube onto his palm, looking up at Jack's face while he slowly wrapped his palm around it.

"Mmm, that'll wake me up a little," Jack murmured. "You've definitely done hand jobs before."

"I like to think I'm good at it," Rodney smiled, leaning up onto his knees long enough to kiss Jack.

"Mm, let's get you in a comfortable position," Jack said, gripping him to manhandle him a little. "You might be there a while."

Back onto his back again, and Rodney shifted, lifting his hips up to Jack, trying to -- ahah, pillows.

Jack seemed to get his drift and grinned as he tucked them under his back. "Comfortable?" His fingers were finding his ass again, preparing him.

Slow motions of fingertip against his ass, and Rodney smiled up at Jack. "Yeah. I'm very comfortable."

"Just say if I'm hurting at all, " he murmured and there it was, the push against his ass and, crap, he was larger than Grant. Thicker and larger.

"Oh, man. Uhm, you're, uh." He tipped his hips, trying to make the alignment the easiest possible. "Huge."

"Sizeable, but not enormous. There are bigger," Jack murmured taking it very steadily. "But it's what you do, not the size that is most important. Though size can help."

Rodney exhaled in an unsteady pant of breath. "I think size is helping here. Jesus."

"You don't want to rush things here," Jack said, with some signs of strain there in his voice.

"How're you, how... you're holding back." Moving slowly, and while Rodney could feel the burn of stretching skin, his dick was pretty into the sensation.

"And it's not easy, I can tell you," Jack huffed a little easing in deeper and deeper. He would move a little then pause, then push a bit more, and a little more until he was right in. "There now. Just...catch our breath."

"Right." Rodney nodded, swallowing when he lifted his hips, pushing his ass against Jack's hips, his legs still awkwardly akimbo around Jack. "Ohhh."

"Mm, you feel good. Very good. Tight and hot..." Jack leaned down to kiss him and rocked just a little

It startled him, and Rodney sucked in a gasp against Jack's mouth. He wasn't surprised when Jack swallowed that gasp.

"Mm," Jack murmured and moved again. He kept doing that until he could move properly, slowly back and forth.

A slow fucking, and Rodney was half sure that his ass was trying to cling to Jack on the out strokes. "Please, please..."

"Yeah... yeah, Mer," Jack murmured picking up his pace a little. "It's good... god yeah..."

A nice, steady fucking, and Rodney could only wrap his legs desperately around Jack's hips, trying to move with him, move into him. "That's good, that's great."

"Good, because I'm going to work on that overwhelming for you in a while," Jack promised. He was picking up speed and angling a little as if looking for something.

It was hard to guess what it was, and then he hit him. Rodney *felt* the stroke hit him, brush against that spot Grant sometimes hit.

Whatever it was Jack noted his reaction and then went for it with more force, again and again. How he had the stamina and control, Rodney wasn't sure but he had no doubt Jack was in control of how he was going to climax.

He was sure he was going to get to, and for the moment, all he wanted to focus on was, oh. Everything. hands right on his hips, hipbones grinding against his ass, the pillows moving under his body, slowly displaced.

"Do... you want more?" Jack asked in a near gasp. "Do you want...harder? "

Rodney exhaled unsteadily, nodding, head rubbing against the mattress beneath him. "Yeah, harder, please, you're, this is amazing..."

Jack shifted, pulling his legs up so they were resting on his shoulders and the next thrust practically bent him in half.

Cracked in half like that was novel, fantastic, and Rodney shifted, taking a careful breath before he tried to relax against Jack. "Fuck, I didn't think you could get any deeper in, you..."

"Right angle, I can fuck your brains out," Jack murmured in a low resonating voice and slowed up is next thrust a little.

"Dare you." It was the best he could manage to say, because even slowing down, Jack was moving fast, fast enough to make Rodney's dick jerk with every other motion.

"You asked for it," and with that Jack seemed to go out of his way to give Rodney that overwhelmed feeling. He even leaned forward and pinned Rodney's hands .

And *that*, more than anything else, more than random men fucking his ass in a line, was what he wanted. No control, but at the same time, he could stop it, if he wanted to. He just didn't want to, because it felt amazing, made his muscles ache, made him feel out of control.

Jack was heavy on him, deep in him and there was the fantasy there that he didn't have to be the one worrying about anything, he just had to feel and enjoy. There was the thrusting rhythm again and the slap of him against his ass.

He didn't bother trying to stroke himself off. It was better to just lean up against the hands pinning his wrists, trying to feel Jack, kiss him, anything, concentrating on the strain of muscles and the pressure.

He'd lean and kiss him pausing at the top of a stroke. He'd deliberately press himself against his cock. "You like that don't you Mer? Like not having control. Imagine what it would be like to be tied and helpless... would that scare you?"
"I want to try it to find out." He did, because hands, he had a feeling he could throw Jack off of him, if he wanted to.

Maybe that was deliberate. "Next time," Jack murmured. "Next time, we'll do that." But now he was pushing harder and talking became impossible.

Jack was pounding him, leaving Rodney to take it and take it and he squirmed, trying to get more because he felt so close, so damn close.

"Yeah, yeah come on now Mer...come for me, come on now, come for me.." He was hitting that spot every time now without mercy.

It felt different than jerking off, felt like a deeper orgasm rushing over him. His balls went tight, and they still ached miserably right up until he felt the first twitching jerk, and then another, and then another, like half-orgasms that bundled up into more than one.

It was then Jack finally came from the guttural cry he made and the stuttered finish. It took a long time and he eventually came to a halt, half pinning him with his solid weight, and breathing heavily.

"Oh, god. Oh god. That was, you..." Amazing. No other words.

"Did you get what you want?" Jack said after he got his breath back. He smiled at Rodney, his hair darkened with sweat and exertion. "Because, you were pretty damn good for me Mer."

"Oh yeah. That was..." They were both panting a little, and it made Rodney laugh in quiet huffs. "Amazing. I feel done in."

"Shagged out as they'd say back in England," Jack said and withdrew, before returning to holding him. "Mmm. I'm over here for another two weeks. Think that'll be long enough to complete your sexual education?"

"Huh. You'd do that?" His ass was still sore, but sort of delightfully sore, stretched and empty.

"Yeah," Jack smiled. "I think you need to learn sex can be a good thing. I can get fucked pretty much any time, but this is important and interesting. Besides, the most important sexual organ is the brain. I get the impression I'd be denying the world some phenomenal sex if I didn't help out." He grinned at him to show him it was all tongue in cheek.

Rodney leaned up, just a little, and kissed Jack on the mouth again. "Thanks. When do you want to meet again...?"

The older man smiled. "I'll be here tomorrow evening, same time."

He had no idea how he'd managed to get so lucky but suddenly the next two weeks looked to be a high point of his life rather than a low and he was grateful for the turnaround, no matter where it came from.

 

Talks were bad. This whole week had been bad from Grant's point of view because Rodney had been out every night and getting in late and he'd been sitting waiting for him to come back because there were lots of bad things that could happen to people when they were out like what had happened to Carson and he was only just starting to move around properly and stop sleeping all the time.

He'd been waiting this time with Shona and Carson in the living room, glancing at the door over and over after Rodney's normal time to be in and then felt the huge relief when he stepped into the house, so much so he nearly missed Shona calling out. "Rodney? Can I have a wee chat here, lovey?"

Rodney looked *exhausted*, and he was pulling at the sleeves of his shirt, down over his wrists. "Oh, uh. Why's everyone still up?"

"Grant was worried about you," Shona said which was the truth.

"I... I thought you might've had a car accident or broken down or someone might've found you like they did Carson and I wouldn't've been there to call 911," Grant said.

Carson didn't say anything but Grant was watching him and it was like he knew what was happening just by looking at Rodney.

"Oh, uh." Rodney looked nervous, edgy, and he wasn't sitting down. "I'm sorry, Grant. I didn't mean to make you worry."

"That's... that's okay. I just don't know where you were," Grant said and shrugged.

"Which is a point," Shona said. "You are old enough to be out late, but I would feel more comfortable if I knew where you were?"

Rodney wasn't good at lying. Not really, not when Grant was watching. Rodney tilted his head a certain way when he was thinking of made-up answers, and Grant usually didn't say anything about it because most of the time they were answers nicer than reality. "I, uh, was out." He glanced at Carson. "At a club-place."

"What type of club place?" Shona asked leaning forward. "I'm concerned Rodney... you're in a susceptible frame of mind right now. It would be easy for someone to take advantage."

Rodney was looking at Grant instead of Shona. "Look, uh, can I just go to bed? I'm sort of tired, and uh..."

"Rodney, I'm going to be blunt and I want you to be truthful," Shona said in a firm voice. "You're tired all the time, you've lost weight and your mood is all over the place. Have you been trying drugs?"

"What? Oh, god no." There was a real reaction, real Rodney-ness. It put Grant at ease a little. "Are you kidding me? I need these brain cells."

Shona seemed to relax a little. "Good, because it wouldn't be the first time we've had someone with drug or alcohol problems in the house and I'd rather make sure things are okay than let it get to be a problem. If you are just blowing off steam..." She spread her hands to indicate that was fine.

Grant couldn't think of anything worse than things being out of order in his head. He couldn't imagine why people might think that was a good idea.

"I've just been out. Just, you all keep saying that I need to get out and do my own thing and not immediately think about Grant, and then when I do..." Rodney shifted, still a nervous sort of footing for Rodney.

"I'll take you at your word," Shona said. "Now, why don't you all head to bed hmm? It's late and I don't want you all getting into bad habits."

Grant got up. It was a good idea and he could do that now Rodney was at home. Carson got up slowly, still looking at Rodney before heading towards the stairs.

"Thanks." Rodney said it to Shona, a quiet murmur that followed Grant around the corner while he walked to the stairwell. "I didn't mean to worry anyone. I promise that I'm not doing anything stupid."

Carson was already up the stairs ahead of him and Grant frowned because Carson didn't go into his own room but headed straight into Rodney's. He frowned a little because that was weird in one way so he went and grabbed the soft toy that was in his room and then went to sit with Carson in Rodney's bedroom as well, though he wasn't exactly sure why he was there and waiting. But he knew Carson saw things that other people didn't and that he had kept secrets for them even from his own parents and that he'd even been hurt over them and never made that a big deal so if there was something wrong then it was something he would talk to Rodney about and sort out because that was what he did.

They waited until Rodney had come in the room and closed the door and Carson said. "Okay, what've you been doing really?"

And his voice sounded a bit trembly and he didn't like that.

"Why?" Rodney looked startled to see them there, and he set his book bag down inside the door when he closed it.

"Because I know bloody well you've been doing something more than just going to a club," Carson said. "Tell me."

Grant wasn't sure how he knew. He couldn't tell.

"I've been at a club." Rodney sounded defensive, folded his arms over his chest, and still didn't sit down. "That's all."

Carson looked at him. "A club where you get tied up?" he said gesturing to some marks barely visible on Rodney's wrists. "For fuck's sake Rodney, I'm not as smart as you but I'm not stupid! I have eyes."

Grant had eyes too and he had seen the marks but he'd seen marks like that before on Rodney or on himself and it was something like normal in his head.

Rodney clutched at one wrist. "Yes! Okay, yes, it *is* a club where I get tied up. It's a bathhouse."

"A bath house? Where, where you have a bath? That sounds like fun," Grant said. It didn't seem too disastrous to him.

Carson on the other hand was gaping like a fish out of water. "A... bathhouse? You've *got* to be kidding me Rodney. You... I...”

"It's not like I can date around." Rodney crossed his arms over his chest. "It's not like I have any sort of normal social structure, or that I've really had a chance to fool around before now."

"But going to one of those places." Carson's eyes were wide. "Rodney, they'll treat you like meat on a hook!"

Grant looked alarmed at that. "Who put you on a hook?" he asked all worried now.

"No-one's put me on a hook. Look, I..." Rodney waved a hand slightly. "I had a run-in with a few guys the first time there, but I've met a guy who's only in town for a week or so and he's been... very helpful." It left Grant feeling lost, because run-ins? Were not good.

Run-ins got people hurt, or made him want to curl up in the smallest, darkest, best hidden place ever.

"Start at the beginning and tell me what you've been doing, because I swear to god, Rodney, I'll tell mum and dad if I have to if you are in danger," Carson said. "I don't want to, but I will if you are being hurt."

"I don't want you to be hurt," Grant added looking up at him. Rodney didn't look hurt, just tired.

"I'm not being hurt." Rodney sat down, and Rodney smelled like soap and damp, so he had to have been bathing. Grant liked baths, they were smooth and floaty and sort of squeaky at the same time. "Okay. I grabbed a flier from the place at the coffee shop, thought about it a couple of weeks, and decided to go."

"Why?" Grant asked. "Did you want a bath?"

"It's where, uh..." Rodney glanced at Grant, and Grant knew he was trying to decide what to say and how to say it. "Men go to meet other men to have sex."

"Oh." He considered that. He had done that with Rodney and it was nice. Sex was something he had to do, rather than that he particularly wanted to do, but if Rodney wanted it then that was okay.

"So you wanted sex? Just sex, not the dating stuff that everyone else does? You're too young, Rodney."

Rodney rubbed at his face, and he wasn't looking at either of them. "Who the hell is going to date me, huh?"

"Well, anyone... loads of people," Carson said. "When you go back to college they'll be queuing up. But okay, so you went there, and what happened this first time?"

Grant still thought it sounded interesting. Baths were nice. Well, the baths here. He was allowed one every day here, and allowed more than stinging harsh soap.

Shona had nice soap, and she let him try *different* nice soaps, clean pine smells and flowers and things that felt as good as they smelled. "I uh, accidentally organized a gang bang." Rodney waved one hand. "Which didn't happen, and they were disappointed, and I probably won't go back there after Jack leaves town."

"Okay, Jack is this guy you met there?" Carson was saying in a low voice. "Who is he? What's he like? What... I mean, why has he been tying you up?

"I asked him to." Rodney looked sideways at Carson. "He's military, sounds American. He's nice enough. He, uh. Disrupted the accidental gang bang that was going to happen, and ran them off. Then he lectured me about safety."

"Safety is important," Grant said nodding. "Why would you want to be tied up? When mom did it, it always hurt." He looked up at Rodney quizzically, not really paying attention to Carson's sharp inhalation.

"I don't know." It was funny, because Rodney's voice shook a little. "I think I might be a little messed up."

"Hey..." Carson's tone softened. "Hey, Rodney, come on sit down here. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to come on so strong. I was just... I don't like you being hurt, Rodney. You or Grant, I... you're the best foster brothers I've had and I worry about you."

That was nice, and Grant spontaneously hugged Carson, who only flinched a little with pain.

He hung in there, and Rodney moved, sat down slowly. "I asked him to, and he wanted to give me a safe... safe way to try it."

"And he hasn't done bad stuff to you? I mean, this was good stuff?” Carson was trying to be really understanding, and Grant just accepted what his brother said to him. If Rodney said it was okay, it was okay.

Rodney knew. Rodney knew, even when he looked unhappy, and his face was twisted up with feelings. "Yeah. It's been good. I just..."

"You just what?" Carson asked, and he had his arm around Rodney then, and Grant liked that. The both of them there with Carson. Comfortable and safe, because Carson didn't like bad things happening to them, possibly even more than all the people who told them that. Carson did things about it, and he made Rodney happy and laugh, and Grant couldn't remember many times when Rodney laughed before.

"Wanted contact." He sucked in an unsteady breath, and leaned into Carson, while Grant shifted to hug Rodney too. He was tired and could sleep just like that, just there.

"Oh, Rodney," Carson murmured, and stroked at his hair. "I'm sorry, I should've just been spending more time with you, and I've been a bit rubbish recently."

Grant didn't think he had. He'd been there in the day time and doing his work, and then sometimes Maddie came over. But then, he was at home more than Rodney was, so maybe Rodney did miss him.

"Not your fault. I think I'm just... I should mention it to my therapist. I haven't felt the same since the trial."

"Well, that's not surprising," Carson said gently. "And it's probably a good idea to mention it. I just want you to be okay. If you're going back there then I want to know where it is, and the phone number... how to get a hold of you if you're not back by when you're meant to be."

Grant nodded to that suggestion. That was a good idea. Phones were good things, and they could help find people and get help.

"You're going to tell your parents, aren't you?" Rodney glanced at him. "I'll just, just until Jack leaves. Then I don't know if I'll go back."

Carson exhaled. "No. I should but... no... I won't tell. Give me the information and let me know roughly what time you're expecting to be back, so I can do something if it looks like you're in trouble. This Jack - he's good to you?"

Grant looked at Rodney as well.

"Yeah. And I don't particularly trust the rest of them there. But I like Jack. And he's leaving in not much longer."

"Okay," Carson hugged them both. "Just... please don't get hurt. " He went silent for a long while, and Grant noticed he had flushed a bit. "What, what was it like Rodney?"

"What was what like?"

"The different things you've been doing?" Carson was getting redder, and Grant blinked a little.

"I think he wants to know what sex is like," Grant said.

"Bloody hell, Grant, keep it down," Carson said furtively.

Carson's embarrassment seemed like it startled Rodney back to himself a little, and Grant wanted to smile at that. "Oh, it's. Been really really good. Of course, if I'm too young, and you're a year younger than me, then you're freakishly too young."

"Can't you give me details? I mean... I'm not at that sort've stage with Maddie and... well, I'm interested."

"It's not hard," Grant chipped in. "Well it is. Your penis is hard, but having sex isn't. I don't like it much."

Rodney sat up a little beside Grant, posture stiff. "The stuff I'm doing, you won't really, uh. Do with Maddie, whenever you get there. Unless she really wants to slide a dildo up your ass."

"Does that really feel good though?" Carson asked looking perplexed. "I mean really?"

"I enjoy it." Rodney shrugged his shoulders at Carson, like it was a defense. "Look, uh. I think we should go to bed. It's late and I didn't mean to keep you guys up."

"Okay," Carson patted his arm and got up. "Sorry. I was just worried about you."

Grant blinked a little but didn't move. He wanted to ask Rodney something himself, but he was a little scared of it so he didn’t want to say it in front of anything else.

"I'm sorry. I'll see you at breakfast, okay?" Rodney leaned over, started to untie his shoes.

Carson nodded and took that as a dismissal, leaving as quietly as possible.

Grant hesitated. He had no problems with Rodney doing what he wanted, everything he wanted and he was sure he knew what he was doing, but there was this nagging suspicion in his head that wouldn't go away now he knew Rodney was having sex with someone else. It had been okay when neither of them were, but, but mom had taught him that she only cared about him when he was doing something for her and, that, that was like love, and if Rodney wasn't doing this with him and was doing it with someone else then maybe it meant he didn't love him anymore because that was, was how mom had taught them love worked. It could be taken away if they did something wrong, or sometimes for no reason at all.

Love went away.

Rodney peered over at him. "Hi."

He gave a little wave to his brother and then peered down at his hands.

"I, I..." he stopped and he glanced up at Rodney. "You love Jack. You don't love me anymore?" He meant the last to be a statement but it came out as a faint question, all shaking and scared.

"What?" Rodney dropped his shoelaces, and leaned over to look at Grant. "No, no, I don't love Jack. He's just a nice guy, and I can have sex with him. You, you said you didn't like doing it. Why didn't you ever tell me?"

"Mom said it was... the way she showed us she loved us," Grant said, confused. "So, so when we did it I thought we were doing that? And now I'm not doing it but you are with h... him and..." He was confused. "I don't like sex much, but I liked loving you, and I don't want you to not love me even if it means..."

Rodney looked miserable, frowning, and he leaned in to hug Grant. "Sex isn't love. And love isn't sex. A hug is a lot closer to love than sex."

"Oh!" Grant blinked a little, then hugged his brother back really hard. "It's okay to hug people then? To show them I love them?"

"Yeah. I'm getting the feeling that that's the normal way." Rodney leaned into Grant, and sighed. "I'm sorry I worried you. That's the last thing I want to do."

"I, I know you know what you are doing," Grant said. He was trying to explain it was him worrying himself, not Rodney at fault. "I think it's good if it makes you feel good. And you still love me."

"I'm not ever going to *not* love you," Rodney said in his promising voice, a hand rubbing at Grant's shoulder. "And maybe I shouldn't be going to clubs. I don't know. I'll just make sure you know where I am if something happens, or I don't come home."

"That's okay," Grant said. "If you like it. I want you to be happy." He hugged him again. Hugging did feel good, and he could hug people without making them be weird.

"I'm not sure I like it." Rodney's mouth quirked, and he stayed there, hugging Grant back. "I do, but I don't."

"If you don't like it, then don't do it?" Grant suggested.

"But I want to do it. It's, yeah, it's stupid." Rodney smiled, and kissed Grant's cheek.

"I, I'll try not to worry, and then everything will be fine?" Grant said, beaming a little.

"Yeah. Everything is going to be fine. But you need to tell me if I'm worrying you, or..." Rodney waved a hand. "Anything."

"Okay." He nodded and ducked his head in against Rodney a moment, in on last hug. "I'm going to bed now."

"Okay. Have a good night's sleep, Grant. I'll see you in the morning." And then Rodney went back to getting undressed.

He left then, feeling happier, and having learned something new. Hugs were allowed and said he loved someone, and they wouldn't be upset about that. Rodney was trying things which made him happy which was good. Carson wasn't going to tell anyone, and he wanted to help.

Things were pretty good and he'd been worried for nothing. He hoped.

Grant was good at hope.

 

After Jack left -- and Rodney didn't press too hard on where Jack had gone, didn't want to get too tangled up and end up hoping he'd see him again -- he decided to not go to the bathhouse again. The chances that he'd do something phenomenally stupid, and then end up in Lachlan's emergency ward was too high for him to ignore, no matter how much he *wanted* to. So at his therapy session after Jack left, Rodney guessed it was as good a time as any to bring it all up.

"So Rodney, is there anything you'd like to discuss this week," Diane asked as she did every week. "How are you feeling at the moment?"

"Okay. Holidays are coming up, and the social worker is talking about Grant and I seeing Jeannie." Rodney cleared his throat a little. "But that's not what I want help with."

"And what do you want help with Rodney?" Diane asked, obviously a little surprised he was volunteering information.

"I, uh. Went to a gay bathhouse. I've been going for the last couple of weeks." He shifted, nervous, watching her eyes to see what she thought of that.

"I see," she said patiently. "And why did you do that, Rodney?"

"I wanted to feel that closeness. And it's very... satisfying, physically. The problem is that I want to go back, but I also don't want to go back."

"First of all, why did you go there in the first place?" Diane asked. "What was it that motivated you to do that?

The first word that came to Rodney's mind wasn't right, wasn't the *true* answer. He wasn't lonely. He had Grant and Carson and the Becketts. "I, uh. Wanted to feel that connection with someone."

"A physical connection? Specifically with a male someone?" Diane asked.

"Yeah. I, uh." He waved a hand slightly. "I have friends who are male. And I'm pretty sure they're one hundred percent straight, which also means one hundred percent not interested in me."

"So, in effect you were wanting to explore your sexual identity," Diane commented. "Okay, why did you feel the urge to do this now?

"You're the one who's always telling me I need to think and do things for myself. Well, I did. Tried, at least. Everything's just going... great at home. Grant's going to go to school part time in the spring, and Carson's applied to graduate in May with the seniors -- it's with a less prestigious degree, but let's be honest. High school. No-one's going to ask if he graduated special umpteen extra stupid classes in another year. No-one's going to beat him up in college either. So, they're both moving on and I feel static. There are things I want to try and I have no, no, I can't say normal because nothing I do is normal, but no usual sorts of opportunities to work out things like that."

She nodded slightly. "So, you went to the bath house and presumably you had an experience? What did this experience tell you?"

"I really prefer men to women. Sexually. And sex it, it can be actually good. But I don't want to go back, at the same time. And I don't know why."

"What sort of feelings do you have about going back. Describe them?" Diane instructed.

"I want to, but I..." Rodney shrugged his shoulders. "Doesn't feel like it's enough."

"I see." Diane leaned back a little. "Perhaps you are looking for more than just casual sex, Rodney? Could that be the answer?"

He started to answer her, then just nodded. Yeah. He still missed what he'd had with Grant, but. But, Grant didn’t *like* it, and he wished Grant had said so, oh, years ago.

"Then you are most likely right in your decision. You are unlikely to find someone interested in a relationship at a bath house, whereas they will be specifically interested in sex," Diane said. "So, let's have a look at this. What sort of things are you hoping to find in a relationship?"

"I don't know. I've never *had* a relationship before. I'd like, I suppose, someone intelligent enough to keep up with me, and tolerance for my quirks."

“Okay. Do you have a physical type you are attracted to? What attracts you to them?" his therapist encouraged.

"Uh, a decent sort of..." He waved one hand. "More facial expressiveness than the body, uh, bright eyes, good smile, dark hair. Intelligent looking."

"You have an emphasis on intelligence, Rodney," she commented. "Is that more important than anything else?"

"Well, not being an asshole is pretty important too," Rodney commented back, lifting an eyebrow at her. "My friends aren't the *sweetest* people known to man, but I can connect to them. I'll take an abrasive, intelligent person, who I can talk to, over a sweet dumbass. How would I even connect to someone like that?"

"A good question," Diane said smiling. "So, you would like someone who would challenge you?"

"Of course. My friends do." And why would anyone want to be in a relationship with someone they didn't also think of as a friend?

"Good. So given your main criteria, where do you think you are most likely to find someone who fits what you most want?" Diane said.

He thought about that for a brief moment, and decided, "at the university."

"Good, good. Now, often at Universities there are groups that openly declare their sexual leanings. Would you feel comfortable joining one of those?" his therapist asked.

"I'm not sure. I haven't been impressed by the 'community' so far." Though he'd met a couple of guys who weren't really even part of the 'community' as it seemed to be.

"Up until this point you hadn't expressed an interest in any sort of relationship. It might be that you weren't ready to participate in the community as such," she said.

Ready or not, he was pretty sure he was going to stay unimpressed. "Right, well. It's something I'll look into after the holidays, when the new semester starts. Possibly. I bet it's going to be full of English majors."

"Well, you're not an English major," Diane said with a smile. "Plus, you might find a different perspective is good for you. Now, how do you feel about the holidays?"

"I'm sort of not sure. Most of the Becketts are coming down for Christmas, and I don't know what to expect."

"How were your previous Christmases," she asked. "Were they marked in any way?"

"Miserably." Rodney shifted, leaned his elbows on his knees. "There was generally more food around to sneak to Grant, but. It was Jeannie Day. It's always been Jeannie Day. Last year I decided it was Jeanniemas, because Christ clearly ranked lower for my mother, seeing as he had a penis."

"Do you resent your sister that attention?" Diane questioned.

"Some." He rubbed at is face. "Our social workers are trying to arrange some complicated meeting with her, like I said. And I have this irrational thought that she'll meet the Becketts and then she'll be living there too, and it'll be Jeannie day every day again." Rodney laughed a little when he looked at her. "Which is stupid, and selfish, because I do miss her, only I like things just the way they are now. Carson and Grant and I, and Shona and Lachlan. I can make sense of it."

"As I understand it, your step father has custody of Jeannie, and is unlikely to give it up," she said. "That aside, you might have the experience of sharing Shona and Lachlan's attention with their own children."

"Right. I'm not... bothered by that. I'm more worried about what their own children are *like*, the rest of them, I mean, and how I'll get along with them. Carson's great." He just hoped the rest of them were sort of like Carson.

"Have you considered gifts for anyone?" Diane said.

"Yes. I'm not sure what to get them. Grant loves books -- he's strangely easy. Carson... I don't know. Shona, I have an idea for. Lachlan, I'm also not sure."

"I'm thinking anything you think of will be gratefully received. I often say that even a letter telling them what a difference they've made in your life can be the most treasured gift they will ever receive." Diane suggested.

"Huh." Well, there was that, and it would be *true* and not stupidly hokey. "That's actually a really good idea."

"Thank you, Rodney. I do occasionally have them," Diane said with a smile. "What else would you like to discuss?"

"How... how I can help Grant get used to college, without making his choices for him." That was something that was more up her usual alley, and Rodney knew he could kill the rest of the session with that one.

"Well," Diane said. "Let's take a look at that in detail shall we?" She smiled at him, and all in all the discussion about his sexual activity could've gone a lot worse. He'd been half waiting for censure and repulsion but in point of fact she seemed relieved that he was doing something so comparatively normal.

It was strange that *that* was comparatively normal, though. Rodney just nodded, and started to tell her about the classes Grant had signed up for.

 

Grant had never seen Jeannie before, or his stepfather but he had heard all about them both. But today they were going to meet them both so they could exchange presents for Christmas, and Shona had come with them rather than the social worker.

He was glad of that, because the social worker didn't let him talk. She didn't like him, Grant thought, but he wasn't sure. There was just... something. Something, and he was already nervous about meeting Jeannie and his stepfather.

They wouldn't like him. If they didn't like Rodney, they wouldn't like him because Rodney was wonderful and... and everything.

"Now," Shona said to them both. "I want you to both know if you feel uncomfortable at any time, we will leave. All you have to do is tell me, or if you want to not appear rude say you need the toilet or something, and I will check if you are okay."

Rodney was mostly looking at Grant when Shona said that, and to Grant they were strangers. He was possibly more nervous than the first time he'd met the coffee people, but less nervous than he was about going to *school* in three point two weeks. "Okay."

"Right then," Shona said and rang the doorbell.

Grant looked at the house. This was his house but it didn't feel like his house. The Becketts' was home, because his place here had only been down in two rooms. He could remember what he had glimpsed as he was carried out but, if not for that, he would not have known this was anywhere special.

The door opened, and there was a man there that he had seen in pictures from the trial. He was meant to be his stepfather, but he had never seen him in the flesh. He wasn't sure what he should do so he sidled over towards Rodney, because being closer reduced the magnitude of anxiety exponentially.

"Rodney and... Grant," the man was staring at him which made him nervous. "Mrs. Beckett, please come in."

The man's name was Jeff, though Rodney had sort of uttered it rather than said it, different intonation, unhappy intonation, and then Rodney had gone back to talking normally. Jeff, like it was ominous.

"Thank you." Shona was gracious, and close behind them as she herded them into the house. Rodney felt unsteady at Grant's side.

"Rodney?" There was a little girl peeking out at them from the other end of the entryway hallway.

That had to be Jeannie. Grant looked at her a little suspiciously as Rodney had told him all about her.

"Jeannie, honey, come in the living room," Jeff said beckoning to her.

"There's two Rodneys," Jeannie pointed out, coming down the hallway towards them.

"Jeannie, this is Grant," Rodney explained, leaning forwards a little nervously. "My twin."

"He looks like you," Jeannie said, and tilted her head so Grant waved at her nervously. "Where did he come from?"

"He, uh..." Rodney cleared his throat, and *looked* at Jeff, gave him a hard look, while Grant tried to stay focused on Jeannie. "Lived in the basement."

"Oh." Jeannie stared again. "The papers said that, but that's the sort of thing you find in books. I didn't think it was real."

"I... I am real," Grant felt he needed to say as they headed to the living room.

"Yeah, it's real. Mom lied a lot." Rodney sounded dismayed as they moved, and Jeff was silent. Rodney had *said* the man was quiet, but it wasn't the same quiet as Shona, where she was quiet so they could make a decision or talk for themselves.

"Is he stupid?" Jeannie asked. "He's bound to be stupid if he's been in a basement all the time."

Grant didn't know how to respond to that. Mom had told him he was worthless and useless, but Carson and Shona and everyone told him he was smart. But she hadn't been asking him, she'd asked Rodney.

Rodney shot Jeff a look that Grant wanted to call 'dirty'. "Seriously, you're such a chicken-shit that you can't even explain this to her, Jeff? Jeannie, Grant's just like *me*, and you can talk to him. He speaks and everything."

"Rodney, I've tried to explain," Jeff replied. "But the truth is, I don't know much about... any of that. I'm... sorry, but I really didn't know any of it."

"Boys, settle down now," Shona said glancing at them both. "Rodney, I think you might find that your step father is ignorant of a lot of things, if not completely hood winked."

"He was at the same trial *I* was at. There's not a lot left to be ignorant of," Rodney commented, in that voice that made Grant anxious.

And Jeannie was staring at him.

He didn't like that. Staring wasn't good. "I... should say hello. Shona says I should be polite. Hello Jeannie, hello Jeff. I haven't met you before, but Rodney has told me a lot about you both," Grant said, wanting things to be calmer, and was rewarded with a pat from Shona.

Jeff smiled at him, and patted Jeannie on the back. "Hi, Grant. I'm uh. Glad to finally meet you."

He nodded and ducked his head. "I wish you had stopped things so I could've met you sooner," he said, and Jeff's face paled a little and he wasn't sure why. He was just stating a fact.

"Grant, I had no idea you were down there." Jeff was very still when he said that, very stiff. "If I had have known, I would have stopped it."

"Yes?" Grant looked at him. "But you didn't stop her being horrible to Rodney, and you were here for that." Again, he was just stating facts, but somehow he knew that he was surprising all of them.

"Rodney was a... difficult child to get to know. I didn't know what was going on." And he kept *saying* that, but Shona and Lachlan knew everything. They knew when Grant tried eating the toothpaste, and they knew when he sorted the fruit in the fridge, and they knew what he was doing when he sat down with Rodney's textbooks from the last semester and did the extra problems at the end of each chapter.

"I wonder why I was difficult," Rodney muttered, rubbing a hand over his face.

"Mommy said all boys are difficult," Jeannie chipped in. "And men too. Stupid too."

"Jeannie," Jeff said. "What have we talked about?"

"But that's what she said, Daddy!" Jeannie protested. "Girls are good and boys are bad."

Grant remembered her saying that, so Jeannie wasn't lying, but Shona had said differently. Shona seemed to know more things about them than their mother ever had, so logically it made sense to follow her decisions. Carson wasn't bad, or Jamie, Allan or Collin.

"No, you are wrong." he said decisively. "Not all boys are bad, not all girls are good. And sometimes people can be good to one person, and not to others. Rodney is very good to me, and to mom he was bad. More people agree with my opinion than with mom's, therefore Rodney is very good."

Jeff cleared his throat again. "Right. I, uh. I'm glad that you're both doing so well. What're you planning on doing, Grant?"

"I'm going to college," he said proudly. "I've been catching up, and Rodney's been helping me, and Carson and I get to go soon. And Shona's been teaching me about other things as well so I won't do the wrong things."

"Do you do the wrong things a lot?" Jeannie's attention seemed caught, and maybe she was a little, a little, Grant wasn't sure. She was nine, which Rodney had told him repeatedly, and smart, but apparently biased.

"Only when I don't know that they are wrong," Grant said looking at Shona. "I don't like wrong things. Being nasty is wrong and hurting people is wrong. Being selfish is wrong and greedy. Those are wrong things. Shona says I have learned it much faster than anyone thought I would."

"Have you visited mom yet? Dad won't let me."

"No." Rodney sounded surprised. "I saw her at the trial, and I don't want to see her anymore. I don't know about Grant..."

Grant shook his head. "She'll hurt me," he said in a quiet voice. "She always did. I don't want to be hurt anymore."

Jeff looked very discomfited by the conversation. "I don't think it would be a good idea, honey," he said to Jeannie. "She was... very unhappy about the verdict."

Shona seemed to understand what that meant. Grant wasn't sure, but there had been times when his mother had been so unhappy with him that she had been screaming and hitting and spitting at him, and if that was what he meant then taking Jeannie to see her would be wrong as well.

"But she's *mom*, and it's Christmas, and I thought Rodney would just come home and stay home and..."

Grant was alarmed at that thought. "Nonono," he said looking at Rodney. "We're not coming here? Rodney? We're..."

"It's all right Grant," Shona soothed. "You're staying with me."

"I'm not applying for custody," Jeff told them. "My lawyer says I should, but... I wouldn't know what to do with you."

"You wouldn't *do* anything," Rodney groused. "Just like you always did. So thanks for not applying for the legal right to neglect us."

"Rodney..." Not scolding, but a gentle reminding tone to Rodney from Shona that made Rodney sit back and sigh.

"But I want Rodney back!" Jeannie protested. "Rodney should be here! It's home, and he's my brother, and I want him here!" She started to sniffle a little, obviously used to getting what she wanted.

"I'm kind of screwed up, Jeannie, and need to *not* be here. Just sitting in the living room is creeping me out," Rodney countered. "I'll still visit but I, *we* can't live here anymore."

"But it's so *boring* without you," Jeannie complained tearfully. "I, I don't have anyone to play with!"

Jeff bit his lip. "Your mother didn't encourage friends that might hold her back," he admitted.

"Well, lad," Shona said. "I think it's about time you took charge of your daughter, and helped her get some friends. Rodney and Grant are her brothers, but she needs friends of her own age more than anything."

"I even have friends now." Rodney saying it maybe had more power coming from him than it did from Shona. "It's nice."

"You do?" Jeannie looked at them. "But aren't they annoyingly stupid like Mom said?"

Grant thought people were clever in different ways; after all, most of them knew what to do in situations where he didn't have a clue. That was being clever as well as doing math.

"No. There are a lot of smart people out there. It's not just us. There's a lot of *interesting* people out there. Like, the girl at the coffee shop I go to. She's a retail worker, yeah. And on the weekends she's a low-level competitive racecar driver. And I wouldn't know that if I'd been an asshole to her."

"Oh. " Jeannie seemed to be thinking about it a little. "I think I'd like friends like that."

Grant nodded. "And there are people who are clever as well," he said. "Lots of them."

"And having them as friends isn't a bad thing at all." Rodney was focusing on Jeannie instead of Jeff, and he sounded less angry, which was nice. Grant didn't like it when Rodney sounded angry.

Jeannie nodded. "We got you both presents," she announced, her tears drying up some. "For Christmas."

"Jeannie day," Grant said nodding.

"Grant..." Rodney groaned, and elbowed Grant in the side gently. "Shhhh."

"What's Jeannie day?" Jeannie asked, looking at them both, confused, and Grant mimed having a zipped up lip apologetically to Rodney.

"Christmas," Rodney said, after an awkward pause. "It was always... really, your big day. Is all."

"Oh." Jeannie looked at him, and looked upset. "You...you don't like me anymore Rodney..." She looked like she was about to cry again.

"No, no, it's not that at all. I still like you. You're my sister." Rodney leaned forwards on the sofa, sitting on the edge. "I was just jealous, is all."

Jeannie surprised them all then, by getting off the chair, and then running over to hug Rodney. Maybe she really had missed him. People hugged when they loved each other, Rodney said so.

"I'm sorry. I just can't come back here to stay." Rodney hugged her back, tight, close, and Grant didn't know her. Didn't know what to do or say.

"I... I don't mind as long as you don't forget me," Jeannie said. "Will you send me letters?"

Grant thought he could send letters if he tried.

"Yeah. We can do that. And we don't live far away, so we can visit..."

"Any time you want," Jeff agreed. "You are welcome here, Rodney, Grant."

Rodney exhaled, still sitting close beside Grant. "Thanks."

"Presents?" Jeannie said letting go of Rodney's legs and running to get them. "This is for you, and this is for Grant. I helped pick them out."

"Thank you." Rodney reached to take the gift that Jeannie handed him. "Grant and I got you presents, too."

"Are you going to open them now?" Jeannie asked as Grant got the presents out. Shona had helped them pick out something suitable for a girl, and he liked it as well because it was sparkly and shiny.

"Should we?" Rodney looked to Shona for the answer to that, even as Grant handed over the gifts that they’d brought.

"If you want to boys, there's no reason not to," Shona said. "Sometimes it is nice to see other people's reactions to your gifts."

"Okay. You first, Jeannie." Rodney shifted, and he was close at Grant's side, happily so.

Jeannie tore into her wrapped presents with enthusiasm, and pulled out the sparkly tiara and glittery fairy wings, complete with wand, that Grant knew Rodney had modified to light up. "Ooo." she said. "What... what do I do with it?"

"You wear it, honey," Jeff said. "And pretend to be a fairy princess."

Rodney was nodding while Jeff said that, and it was the only time he'd seen Rodney agree with the man. "Yes. Yes, you pretend, and enjoy it."

`"Mommy didn't like pretending," Jeannie said. "But it is pretty. Can I try it on?"

Grant nodded, even though they hadn't asked him directly.

"Pretending can actually be sort of fun." Rodney liked to pretend that he was completely grown up, with varying degrees of success. He sat back, and looked at Grant, trying to catch his eyes.

Grant wasn't sure what Rodney wanted, except he wanted something, so he said. "I used to pretend I could see the stars, and then we did go and see the stars, and we told stories about them," he offered, hoping that was what Rodney wanted.

Jeff just went pale again, and Jeannie looked thoughtful as she perched the tiara on her head. "What do you like most?"

"Rodney," Grant answered immediately, hoping that was what she meant.

"Not *who*, what." Jeannie fiddled with her wand, and startled when the tip lit up. "Oh!"

“Rodney did that for you," Grant said. "He's, He’s very good at making things." What did he like the most. "I like Math. And sweets. And books. And outside."

"Good." Jeannie seemed to declare it the same way their mother did, firm and satisfied with some decision. Rodney plucked at wrapping paper.

"You first, Grant."

Grant undid his present carefully and beamed. "Chocolate! I love chocolate," he said. It was one of his favorite things.

It was milky and sweet. and he had a mental list of bars he has liked and bars he hadn't liked. Dark chocolate was pretty good, and he hoped that there was more of it in the future, more flavors and tastes and differences.

Rodney started to unwrap his gift.

Jeannie went and practically sat on Rodney as he opened it. "Do you like it? It's about physics? It's new. I thought you might like it."

"I love books," Rodney grinned, picking it up, and showing it to Grant in a slow motion. The same man had written one of Rodney's textbooks, which meant that Grant was going to look forward to finding more errors. "Thank you."

"That's okay," Jeannie said. "Thank you for my fairy outfit. I like it a lot."

"It looks pretty," Grant said agreeing. Rodney was happy now, less stressed. That was good.

He didn't like it when Rodney was stressed.

Jeff lifted his eyebrows at them, and started to stand up. "Mrs. Beckett, can I talk with you in the kitchen? I think the kids are fine together."

"I think you might be right," Shona answered. "Play nice, boys." She patted Grant affectionately on the head as she got up. "I won't be long."

Rodney watched Jeff lead the way to the kitchen, and Shona followed, and that was when Grant felt his brother relax. "How've you been, Jeannie? Everything's okay?"

"It's been strange without mom here," Jeannie said. "But Dad does different things with me, and I don't get told off for playing."

Grant looked at Rodney. It seemed to him that Jeannie had been controlled in a different way to them, but still controlled. "Good." Rodney slid a hand over the cover of his book a couple of times. "If he ever goes weird on you..."

"Dad won't get weird on me," Jeannie said with certainty. "He's not like that."

"Mom wasn't like that to you either,” Grant said. "But she was to us."

"Just keep it in mind, Jeannie," Rodney suggested. "If, and it's the big if, just remember you can call us. I'm going to give you the Becketts' phone number and address, so you can contact us. You can't tell mom."

Jeannie nodded. "Mom said horrible things about you both before they put her in jail. She really doesn't like you."

"We... we know that," Grant answered, and he really didn't like thinking about that too much either.

"We don't like her much, either, so it's okay. Just, you can't tell her where we are. Things are finally going nice." And while Rodney was curious about everything, had to know *everything*, he didn't ask what horrible things their mother had said about them. Grant knew the words already by heart.

She repeated them over and over, and he didn't need his memory to recall the details, because it felt like they were in his bones.

"Maybe I can visit you at your new home sometime?" Jeannie asked. "It's so lonely here."

"Maybe. We'll have to ask Shona." Grant understood lonely, the pluses and the many many minuses that went with it. The silence, the crawling feelings, the rising panic that ebbed and faded when he least expected it, the desperation.

"You can wish for friends with your wishing wand," Grant said. "Rodney let me wave it when he was making it light up."

"You should ask your dad if you can get lessons in something you like, something that mom always said no to. You might make friends there...?" Rodney was offering it, unsure. "And wave your wand."

"I wanted to try dancing but mommy wouldn't let me go," Jeannie said, and smiled. "I'll wish for that!" She closed her eyes in concentration, and then waved her wand so it sparkled and glowed as Rodney had designed. "There. Do you think it will work?"

"It might. I hope it does." Rodney would *make* it work, say something to Jeff on the way out or to Shona, and he could make it happen for Jeannie.

He knew Rodney, and he was good at making wishes come true.

Shona and Jeff came back in then and Shona smiled at them both. "Rodney, Grant... are you ready to go now or do you want to stay a wee bit longer?"

Rodney shifted, slid the book onto the sofa, and stood up to hug Jeannie. "We should probably go, but I'd like to come back sometime. Maybe find out how Jeannie's doing in the dance lessons she should be taking."

"Dance lessons?" Jeff looked at Rodney and then seemed to catch on. "Oh. Right. Dance lessons. Of course."

Jeannie beamed and hugged Rodney, and then, much to Grant's surprise, came and hugged him too.

“I hope you have a good Christmas, R...Grant." She stepped back, and maybe he didn't know her, but he could get to *like* her, Grant figured.

She'd hugged him, and it hadn't felt too wrong, and he could cope with that. "You have a good Christmas too," he said in response, catching Shona's approving smile.

"Grant, Rodney..." Jeff cleared his throat, still nowhere near them standing wise. He was maybe three feet and 4 inches away from Grant, and a full four from Rodney. "I'm sorry, and I hope that the two of you have a very good holiday."

"Thank you," Grant said and got up. "You too." There he had been polite and he hadn't rambled or, or anything.

"I don't particularly want you to fall down a set of stairs or anything, so... I hope you have a good holiday, too," Rodney offered, not much of a peace offering.

"Come on then," Shona said ushering them away.

"Bye, Jeannie. Be good!"

"Bye Rodney!" Jeannie waved. "Bye Grant!"

He waved back, still relieved to be leaving the house. It meant nothing to him except darkness and fear in his memory. But he had done well, Rodney had not been really really angry and he had a half sister who knew his name. This was a good thing.

He wasn't The Other Rodney. He was Grant, and he *liked* being Grant, having differences between them. It was nice.

"That went well," Rodney murmured.

"Well, you didn't lose your temper," Shona said with a smile. "Or get scared. I am proud of you both."

He put his arm around Rodney then, for comfort and support.

Rodney leaned into him, and exhaled. "I don't want to go back to the house."

"Our house?" Shona asked. "We can go elsewhere for a wee bit Rodney, if you want."

"No, no, back..." Rodney waved a hand back towards their old house as they walked down the stairs, away. "I don't like it."

Grant patted his brother gently. "Mm. It is strange. I do not want to go there to where I was. But I do not know those rooms."

"Place was still a prison." In its own way, yes, it was. Rodney leaned close to him, all the way to the car, and then he let Grant sit in the front seat for the drive back. Rodney usually sat there, and it was a little strange to be where Rodney was. And if Rodney stayed close to him and Carson that evening, then he wasn't going to complain.

 

There were certain things the Beckett family did at Christmas that were uniquely their own traditions. His mum made Dundee fruit cake as a Christmas cake, there were tartan bows on the Christmas tree, they had a Yule log that had been drying out since the summer, and there would be bannock cakes, and parading around the kitchen three times with the log on Christmas Eve in a ceremony that would have the neighbors staring.

Still, Carson enjoyed Christmas, even if the peace and quiet he was used to was rapidly disappearing as the rest of the clan started descending on the household once again. His mum had put up beds all over the place. Rodney and Grant were going to be sleeping in the same room while the others were there, Lachlan’s study was back into a room again for the twins to share, and most of the other rooms were still set up for guests.

He holed up in the living room, near the fire and the tree that was practically exploding with presents underneath it, and listened to the house filling up with the noise and chaos that had been normal for the Beckett family in his pre-teen years.

He missed it, sometimes, but Carson was also bloody sure that he wouldn't want to do it again for another year once it was all over.

"Boo." Rodney leaned over the back of the sofa, holding a cookie in front of his face. "Your brother's making stained glass cookies. It's sort of lopsided, but tasty."

"Which brother?" Carson asked. "Let me guess, Jamie? " He took the cookie and looked at it. "Aye, that's Jamie's handiwork. The shape is probably some artistic comment on the human condition."

He nibbled at it. It wasn't bad actually, and he smiled a little.

"He's trying to teach Grant Art Deco style." Which was better than Grant's initial reaction to Jamie hugging him, which had been to scream and try to dive under the coffee table. "Hi."

"Hi," Carson smiled at him. "They'll all drift in here in a bit, so when mum and dad go to the late service, we'll sort've catch up. Did you see Collin get here yet?"

"No, though for all you've talked him up," Rodney told him, leaning comfortably over the back, "I'm expecting Thor to come in and kick the door down."

"Are you sure you haven't met him?" Carson said with a grin. "How's Grant doing?"

"Cookies. I think if he could date them, he would." Rodney was eyeing the tree, the lights. Once the sky started to go dark outside, the tree was turned on, and Carson saw how Rodney watched it. "He's getting along with Jamie, and with, uh..."

The Beckett household was a bad place for someone who was bad with names to live.

Carson grinned. "Jamie and Mairi are the two blonde twins. Isobel is here as well. She's the one who looks like a TV star, partly because she is. Allan is the tall one who looks like someone off of Miami Vice - he's the banker. I think he was talking to dad about investments, he usually does, and Aileen is the one with the long dark hair clipped back, the lawyer. Collin when he gets here is the rugged looking one. Mum said he was coming so I'm sure he'll be here soon."

"You talk about him a lot." Rodney moved, climbed over the back of the sofa with long legs, and plopped down beside Carson. "*I* think you might idolize him."

"What, Collin? I... no, he..." Carson stammered and hesitated. "He goes from teasing the hell out of me to helping me out. Sometimes I hate him because he never lets up, but other times I worry myself sick over him being away." It was complicated. "And he's going to kick my ass over getting beaten up and bullied," he confessed morosely.

"That's sort of redundant," Rodney pointed out. "What's he do, again?"

"He's in the Airforce. Training to be a pilot," Carson said as the fire crackled next to him. "He could be... he could end up in war zones and things." It was a sort've nameless dread he had. He'd felt it when Isobel had meningitis and, even though they'd caught it quickly, it had been so bad that they’d been clustered around the ICU waiting. And that time when he heard his mum on the phone say, "What kind of accident? How bad?" when Allan had been in a car crash.

"He wants to be a pilot, though," Rodney pointed out. "And doing what you want is important. That's pretty cool."

"Yeah," Carson exhaled a little, listening a little as there was a surge of noise from the kitchen, and then laughter. "I think that's him."

The door burst open with Isobel backing through. "I'm dumping your stuff here, Col. Don't think I'm lugging this all the way upstairs for you."

"Hey, support your armed forces, Iz, " a male voice said. "Give me some of that patriotic consideration."

There was one thing that Carson always forgot about Collin, which was quite how ridiculously good-looking he was with no apparent effort. Although, the aviator shades were a little over done, considering it was late Christmas Eve.

Rodney glanced up and over at Collin, and stayed sitting slightly upright, like a prairie dog at the ready. "What room's he in?"

"Hey, you must be Rodney," Collin ,taking the shades off and grinning at him. "And there's Sonny boy... hey, no hugs for me? "

"Thought you might be too cool for that," Carson said, his nickname bringing back flash backs, but he did get up and go to hug his brother. Collin hugged back hard enough to make his nearly healed ribs protest, and for him make a muffled 'ow'. He covered it by saying, "Rodney's not going to be your slave for the holidays, Col. Or Grant."

"You volunteering?" Collin smirked a little. "Hell, I'm downstairs, it's just over there. I think I can manage."

"Oh right, *now* you take your own things," Isobel said. "After I broke a nail - that's a serious thing in my line of work. They notice that sort've thing, you know!"

It was funny that Rodney went mostly quiet in the face of Carson's relatives, as though he didn't know what to do with them, and he was as much in awe as Grant was. "Can't you get a new one glued on?"

"Well yes, but it costs to have it done properly," Isobel said. Collin had lifted his bags, and disappeared off for a moment to dump them in his room, but was back soon enough, and flopped down with a smirk.

"So, how's things going? Can't help but get the impression you've been missing things out of your letters, Sonny," Collin said, even as he helped himself to a handful of chips that were put out. "Maybe Rodney can tell me what's been going on with you."

"Carson's graduating in May." Rodney was so *proud* of that, pleased that Carson was going to do his pre-med locally, that he'd already applied for Western Ontario and would surely get in.

"Wow, going for the Beckett over-achiever award huh?" Collin said with a grin. "So, what's the deal with you getting hurt?"

The affable easiness with which he said that didn't fool Carson a bit. "Just some bullies," he said with a shrug. "It's not really a big deal."

"Not a big deal?" Isobel said. "They practically left you for dead, Carson!"

Carson winced at that. This wasn't helping much; Rodney might feel bad about it, and it would stir Collin up.

"That's past bullies and into assault, Carson," Collin pointed out, voice dire.

"They're in proceedings for that," Rodney pointed out, starting to move like he was going to get out of the way.

Carson shot him a pleading look to stay. It got hard when they all ganged up on him, even if it was for his own good. "Aye well, I'm pretty embarrassed about it. I know no one else has ever had a problem like this and I know what you're going to say but...it just happened okay? Things just happened."

"Anyway, it's over, and Carson's last couple of weeks at school have been uneventful." Verifiably so, with his parents checking with his teachers and the principal.

"Well you should've told someone," Isobel said. "Jamie did, when they started on him."

"Jamie was bullied?" Carson asked faintly surprised. How had he missed that?

"A few tried it on with me," Collin said. "I kicked their asses and got suspended for a few days." He smirked a bit.

"Thanks for rubbing it in, Col," he said.

Isobel threw a nut at Collin, bouncing it off his head. "Collin, stop being a bastard. Carson got really hurt."

"Broken ribs," Rodney offered quietly, leaning into Carson just a little, watching Isobel and Collin. He seemed to be less intimidated by Jamie. Possibly because Jamie was goofy.

It was hard to be intimidated by him because he was wildly fey as Carson's mum always said. Creative, artistic bouncing from idea to idea, and a wee bit head in the clouds. Mairi was more down to earth, but no less talented.

"Broken ribs, and an arm fracture, and a concussion," Isobel said. "We're not talking one bully here."

Carson groaned. "Guys, come on...I don't want to go over this all over Christmas. "

"Tell me who they are, Sonny, I'll... encourage them to never do it again," Collin said in a serious tone of voice.

"Oh please, Collin, you are not that badass," Isobel snorted.

"No, but we do have a kick-ass lawyer in the family." Collin pointed out. "We could litigate the pants off of them all."

"They're already litigating," Rodney shrugged from his side. "So. Uh, why do you call Carson Sonny?"

"Didn't want to call him Car," Collin shrugged as if that made it logical.

"You could try just calling us by our real names, you know," Isobel said with a good-natured sniff. "Oh, guess what I auditioned for last week? Star Trek - I get a speaking part as well."

"I bet you're wearing so much latex no one will recognize it's you," Collin said with a grin.

Carson sat up. "Hey, that's really cool. We all watch it here. What are you doing in it?"

"They're starting a *new* series," she told them. "Instead of you guys watching re-runs of the other one."

"They're replacing Kirk?" Rodney sounded mildly offended. "So you're....?"

"Playing a jealous Alien wife."

"Oh well, practically method acting," Collin snarked.

"Hey!" Isobel poked at him hard enough to have him rocking back. "I'm single at the moment and I'll have you know, this could be a big break. Everyone knows that if you get in with these guys then you get parts in pretty much everything that gets made in those studios. There's a lot of talk about a lot of filmmaking and series being moved up to Vancouver to shoot. And that means I'm at an advantage, short've getting a recurring role in one of the soaps or something."

"Anyone we know in this new series?" Carson asked. Maybe they could get Isobel to get autographs or something.

She shook her head. "New actors, time jump and all. But, it'll be on the air next September. Filming starts in February." She sounded proud of herself, and Carson was always happy when his sister had work.

"Cool." Rodney grinned a little. "Still not sold, but. Cool."

"We want pictures of you," Collin said. "So I can take it with me if I get deployed next year."

"Deployed?" Carson could hear his own rising anxiety.

"Sonny, I'm a full pilot. I've been doing milk runs for a while now and I've been doing special training on combat helos. They're not going to let me rot on the ground somewhere," Collin said with a shrug.

"But..." Carson looked around for support. "That could be dangerous. "

Collin grinned. "Something happens to me I'll have the best doctor in Canada to sort me out, won't I?"

"It'll take that long before Canada's involved in a real war," Rodney said agreeably. "Because, honestly, what're you expecting the Russians to do when we have second strike capabilities? Bluster. A lot."

"Their economy is more dependent on the west than they'd admit," Allan said from the door. "Mum and Dad want to know if anyone is going to the late service with them, or if we're going tomorrow morning?"

Carson grinned. "I'll go tomorrow. Mum chases us out of the kitchen on Christmas morning anyway. You coming tomorrow, Rodney, or do you want to hang out here?"

Rodney shook his head a little. "I'll be right back -- I want to confer with Grant on this one. I never thought much about Mass."

"It's not compulsorary," Carson said as he got up. "Bring back more cookies!

"Funny art deco cookies, coming up." Rodney stood up, and wove his way past Collin and Allan and Isobel, pushing open the kitchen door. Carson thought he saw sugar dust being thrown into the air.

He dreaded to think what was going on in there. Grant and the twins, that was a combination and a half right there.

"So Carson, about this assault." Allan started and Carson groaned.

"Seriously, I'm not going over it again. Can't we just talk about interesting things?" he pleaded.

"Hmm. Later then. Talking of interesting, Grant has an exceptional grasp of economics," Allan said. "He just made a comment out there when I was talking to dad and...that's advanced stuff."

"Oh, that'll only be the tip of an iceberg," Carson said immediately. "Grant and Rodney are both geniuses, not just smart but... way out there."

"Well you're smart," Collin pointed out. "So are Allan and Aileen. It's in the blood."

Carson shook his head. "You, you need to see it happen. Grant remembers everything. He has an eidetic memory. Rodney is close. They write equations as easily as I would write a note to mum. Rodney is a brilliant musician, incredible, and he can make practical things, amazing things and Grant can see patterns in everything..."

And he sort of doted on them, wanted to protect them. He was glad, for example, that Rodney had stopped going out at night, and that they'd started to go back to the coffee shop together on weekends. That life was sort of settling back down after the Trial, finally.

"So they're not the average fosters, then," Collin guessed. "Which one was just in here?"

"That's Rodney," Carson answered. It was strange because he never had any problem telling them apart. "They are definitely not average fosters. They're great, been through so much. Rodney had to take care of Grant a lot, and he pretty ended up dealing with the trial on his own. We were there to help but, he was the one being cross examined and offered up for a desperate hatchet job by the defense."

"Mmm, that's what they do." Allan had that same sort of observational tone that he always did. "How do you think they'll do?"

"Rodney and Grant? Brilliantly," Carson said without hesitation. "They'll change the world, and their ... mother had them locked in a bloody basement."

"That's horrible," Isobel sighed. "Mum told me some of it, but, you know, I'm out in Vancouver, and... I'm glad you like them, Carson. You're a good kid."

"I'm going to be 16 soon and graduating," he reminded her, without too much heat. "I'm glad they're too old to be placed for adoption. I don't want them to leave. Grant's come on amazingly and Rodney..." He tried to find the right words. "Rodney's my best friend."

"Fellow geeks," Isobel decided in a mild voice as she moved towards the kitchen door. "I'm going to just--"

The door swung open, pushed backwards while Rodney backed out with a tray in his hands. "Cookies," Rodney declared. "Fresh from the oven, possibly over sugared..."

"Can you over sugar a cookie?" Collin said. "Thanks, Rodney," he said, only momentarily hesitating over the name.

"If Mairi and Jamie are out there, you better believe it," Allan replied. "Hey, don't let the fire die down Carson. Dad'll be swearing that the pixies will be getting in if you're not careful."

"The pixies?" Rodney shot them all an incredulous look, while he set down the tray.

"It's Scottish tradition," Carson said with a grin. "Apparently, you are meant to have a lit fire in the grate on Christmas Eve to make sure the wee folk didn't creep in and bring bad luck... or run off with any presents."

"So, this is your job, huh? See, if you have a fire going, how will Santa get down the chimney?" Rodney snagged a cookie, and flopped back onto the sofa. "This is nice."

"I asked the same question," Carson said, beaming at him. "Dad informed me Santa has an asbestos suit - and very good health insurance."

"Yeah, he spent a whole Christmas worried about Santa getting asbestosis after that one," Collin said.

"The military still uses a lot of it," Rodney mused. "We'll have to tell Grant that one."

"He's very excited by Santa," Carson had to explain. "I don't think he's had a present before, except what Rodney could get him. Have you had any before, Rodney?"

He'd done his best to try and get something special for Rodney. He just hoped that they were getting a computer, because he'd managed to order a book on building your own computer and, after a lot of saving, a CD player as well.

Rodney peered at his cookie, and then glanced up at Carson. "No. It was Jeannie day, and 'Santa' didn't tend to bring 'bad' boys gifts." He rolled his eyes. "Thinking about it, my stepfather was a doormat."

"Sounds like it," Collin said. "Occasionally, we'd get threatened with a lump of coal in the Christmas stocking."

"No, you mean, you'd be threatened with it," Allan said dryly.

"But it never happened," Collin continued. "Speaking of which, Mr. Wall Street - where's this very own plane you promised me when I was thirteen, huh? You must've made enough to buy me one by now."

"Pffft, if I wanted to break myself, sure," Allan smiled. "No, it's all invested. To make more money. Which will make more money. And someday, with the interest, I'll buy you a plane. When you're in a mid-life crisis."

Carson snorted a little at that, even as Grant came bounding in, along with Mairi and Jamie. They looked as though they had been fighting with icing sugar rather than putting it on cookies, and then inhaling it, so they were all on sugar highs and giggling as they came in.

"Behold!" Jamie announced theatrically. "My latest work of art..." He raised up another plate of the cookies. "I call it... Soul in Torment!"

Carson looked at the plate of cookies. "They don't looked particularly upset to me," he said dubiously.

"It's a commentary on the masks of the human condition," Mairi said solemnly.

Rodney grinned perceptively at Jamie. "You just push the limits to see what you can get away with, don't you? I'll take one mask, please."

Grant laughed and swiped a cookie before he sat on Rodney's other side.

"Art is all about pushing the limits to see what we can get away with," Jamie said. "Oh hey, quick Mairi write that down, I can put it up as something pretentious at the next exhibition!"

"I've got a notebook full," Mairi said. "Gimme another symbolic expression of man's innate dichotomy, will you? They taste great."

"I helped!” Grant said to Rodney, eating his cookie and Carson grinned at him. Grant looked so happy with the world just then, like an overgrown kid.

That was such a *change* from the scared, skinny, miserable-looking young man who'd come into the house with Rodney. They both looked healthier, happier, and it had only been 8 months. "I can tell. They're very... artsy." Rodney lifted his eyebrows at Grant. "Oh! I have the answer to how Santa's going to come down the chimney with the fire going, Grant. Asbestos suit."

"Asbestos suit!" Grant repeated, as if that made all the sense in the world. It very nearly made Carson giggle.

"So, Rodney, Carson says you like music and can play?" Mairi said, and of course she'd be interested in that with all her own talents in song writing. "What do you like?"

"The piano you all have?" Rodney offered that, clearly still thinking about his answer. "Anything. I play some classical, some modern, anything that comes to mind. I've been getting lessons again."

"He can improvise a version of pretty much anything," Carson said, feeling a surge of pride that it was *his* friend who could do all these things.

"Really?" Mairi beamed at him. "Maybe we'll try a few things sometime over the break. I write songs and sell them some times. I'd like to get a fellow musicians ideas on things."

"You know, we could always just drag the piano in here," Collin suggested. "You know it'll happen somewhere along the line."

"What, the piano in here?" If they did that, Rodney and Mairi would never get to play anything but Christmas carols.

"Relax, we can move it back," Collin said breezily, "If you guys don't want our creative input. But you know, we could be a useful audience for you! We all like different things."

"I don't think Mairi writes pop rock, Col," Isobel said.

"Maybe she should, that's what sells!" Collin said getting up. "C'mon, Al, give me a hand...no, Sonny, you're not helping, not if you've had broken ribs."

That was his brother all over. Other people talked about things, and he might joke about being lazy, but Collin was the one that actually got up and acted on ideas even if he didn't have them himself that often.

"Seriously, we've moving the *piano*?" But his brother was moving to follow Collin, and Rodney sort of hesitated, like he wasn't sure if he should be trying to help or not.

Thankfully, Grant seemed oblivious.

"Pop music is, is an expanding market," Grant said half with his mouth full. "The, the new media that is being produced will supersede tapes." He nodded to himself. "They'll...they'll figure out how to do it for visual things too. Or they should be working on it. It should work."

Carson blinked a little. He was never sure if Grant was basing these pronouncements on information or something in his own head.

"CDs cost though," Mairi said. "The big artists are using them but, smaller independent ones can't afford it. "

Grant shook his head. "Will become cost efficient. In time."

"Economies of scale," Rodney agreed, leaning back into the sofa, and Carson knew where Rodney had picked *that* up from. At least he could be sure what they did when they sequestered themselves into one bedroom or the other now. "I'm more interested in the miniaturization of technology, but I don't think tiny CDs are that... viable."

"Portable is good," Grant said miming it with his hands, and Carson wished he'd been able to afford one of the really portable CD players for Rodney, but they were way too expensive. "Portable opens... open other avenues of demand. New area of development. Paradigm shift."

"So we should invest in CDs?" Jamie asked, sounding amused. "That's more advice than I've ever had from Allan."

"Computers and technology. Biggest growth area. Anything portable. Phones, computers..." Grant nodded. "Communication is needed by everyone... so... so there will be companies and... things."

There was a crashing sound as Allan tried to stop the piano crashing into the door frame. "Hey, they let you fly multimillion pound jets? You can't even steer a piano."

"It doesn't have wings," Collin said reasonably. "Shift yourselves, piano coming through."

Rodney finally did move, trying to shift the sofa out of the way, and that got Carson to stand up, while Grant stayed happily seated on it. "Ooof, you guys are going to have to put it back before you leave town."

"Not like that's a problem," Collin said as they all moved the furniture around, with Grant in situ. "Your piano. Okay, let's hear what you can do Rodney."

Carson grinned at him. "Go on, Rodney," he said, patting him gently on the arm. "He's tons better than I was," he said to his brothers and sisters.

"That doesn't say much," Isobel said wryly.

"Carson can read x-rays," Rodney shrugged. "It's not a performance art, but it’s interesting. Useful, too." But he sat down at the bench, and lifted the key cover. "Okay, I'm taking requests."

"Know anything from Top Gun?" Collin asked with a smile and Carson chuckled.

"He knows *everything* from that," Carson replied. "He's always getting requests for that at the coffee bar."

"We need more movies to come out so people might start asking me for other songs," Rodney griped, but he was already poising to play.

"How about Loving Feeling?" Isobel suggested. "I sang that at a gig not that long ago."

Rodney snorted, and started to play the beginning. "I'm not sure I know all of it, and I won't sing along, so."

Carson knew it didn't matter, he was here with his family, and there would be laughing, bad singing, bickering and everything was going to be great. And if he noticed how blue Rodney's eyes were a little more than usual, or how great he looked when he laughed, well, he put that down to his Scottish sentimentality, and Christmas spirit.

 

He was warm, but his nose was cold.

It was sort of a weird thing to be aware of, but Rodney enjoyed sleeping face down, burrowed up, and his nose was cold because someone had pulled the sheets back?

There was a warmth on him, and a little peck of a kiss that was forbidden and sweet on his cheek, and he opened his eyes enough to see Grant peering at him, eyes bright with excitement.

"Hi." He smiled at Grant. Grant's breath smelled like something foodish that he'd tucked away. Grapes, maybe. " 'een downstairs?"

"I... I heard people up and I went and looked," Grant said in an overly loud whisper. "Santa made it down through the fire and there is a special breakfast and presents..."

"Who else is up?" Rodney shifted, sliding and arm around Grant for a moment before he started to stand up.

"Collin, Ai..Aileen, Shona and Lachlan. Allan is in the shower," Grant said. "Carson isn't. Should we wake him up?"

"Yeah." Rodney moved, gentled Grant out of bed slowly. He liked that close comfortableness, but it was cold in the room, so he leaned to get his sweater. "Mmm. It smells nice."

"It is! Lots of nice food so, Carson would have to get up soon anyway," Grant said moving out of the way.

It was nice, getting up on their own time, moving together, just the two of them. Sometimes, Rodney missed that. "Okay, let's get Carson up."

Grant grinned at him and bounced up again. "It's Christmas, not Jeannie Day so Santa didn't forget us this year. Shona told him where to find me."

“Santa's probably wanted to see you for a long time." He got steadily to his feet, and leaned over to hug Grant for a second.

Grant hugged him back. He smiled, and then tugged him in the general direction of the door and Carson's room.

Carson was obviously still tired, because he didn't notice when they opened the door.

"Carson..." Rodney almost tripped on Grant's foot, trying to keep the door from squeaking. "Merry Christmas."

Carson made a sort've flailing motion as a response."Mmph," he grunted.

"Wake up, Carson!" Grant prompted.

It was great to see Carson kick hard at the sheets wrapped around his legs before he sort of lurched to his feet, still caught up in bedding. "You overslept."

"Bloody hell..." Carson looked bleary eyed at them both.

"It's Christmas, Carson, and Santa came," Grant pointed out. "And Shona has made a big breakfast because dinner will be late."

Carson blinked a few times and then smiled. "Merry Christmas, Rodney, Grant. At least you didn’t wake me up like the twins usually do with a flannel. A very cold wet flannel."

"What would they do with a cold wet flannel?" It felt good to watch Carson smile, and Rodney edged in closer, picking up a sweater for Carson from the chair he had situated at his little desk.

"Usually dump it on my face, or down my back," Carson said, getting up and taking the sweater. "We best get down there before the food vanishes. Because we'll be opening presents at the same time."

"Is it a speed event?" Rodney asked, grinning as he moved to herd Grant out the door. "I don't think we really have to worry about the food vanishing."

"You haven't seen my family in action," Carson said as they headed off down the stairs. "It can get a bit loud."

Just from how many of them there were, sure, Rodney assumed that. He started down the stairs, moving steadily, a hand on the railing, one foot in front of the other. It was funny that he'd always hated going down stairs before.

It had been returning to the basement and, even when he was out of the basement, it was a reminder each time that he had failed to get Grant out.

"Merry Christmas, sleepyheads," Lachlan said from where he was literally piling things onto the breakfast table.

"Collin! Leave the bacon until everyone is here!" Shona called out.

"Hey, they snooze, they lose," Collin said, stealing a fresh bread roll and snagging bacon to put inside it.

"It smelled too good to get up," Rodney countered, herding Grant in front of him. "Go wild. Shona, this looks great, all of it..."

"Why thank you, Rodney," Shona replied. "At least someone has manners. Help yourselves, grab a plate, we'll be eating and opening presents in the living room. People tend to just come back and refill as we go along."

"Oh, that's..." Neat, and something he was only starting to get used to doing. Shona didn't much care for how it *looked* as much as for how they could all be there as a family.

Not like his mother, where it was all about appearance. Carson had grabbed a plate and was piling it high.

"Hey, are those scotch pancakes?" Jamie bounded in, all flamboyance and bright smiles. "Gimme, I love them hot with butter."

"Don't eat all of them," Carson said. "I want Rodney and Grant to try them."

"What's a scotch pancake?" Rodney leaned in, grabbed a plate to press into Grant's hands before he got one for himself.

"One of these. Sort've mini pancakes," Carson said. "Here, try it with butter."

Grant was helping himself to pretty much something of everything even as Collin tugged him towards the living room. He didn't freak this time, which was good.

It was great. There was too much food, and Rodney was moving slower, picking and choosing what he wanted to try the very very most.

At first it looked like an impossible amount, but he had underestimated the ability of the Becketts to eat. By the time they all went in the living room they had made a big dent in the amount of food there, and he had no doubt they would be going back for more.

Collin had taken up position by the tree and the pile of presents, and Aileen and Allan were getting the stockings that had been hung up over the fireplace. "Okay, stockings everyone," Aileen called out. "Col... no shooting the orange this year,."

"It accidentally exploded. I reckon it was fermenting," Collin said catching the stocking.

"Mum, Dad, Carson, Rodney... pass that to Rodney, Carson... Grant..."

Grant looked like he'd been passed pure gold as he took his own stocking. "Is...is this mine?" he asked, looking at Rodney.

"Yeah." Rodney took his stocking by the handle, though, waiting for the others to dig through them. Collin had just said something about oranges and oh, hell.

"Actually, the oranges have been replaced this year with candy," Shona said. "I made fudge instead." She smiled at Rodney and he realized that his expression must've given him away.

"But fudge is actually useful, mum," Collin said and Mairi snickered a little.

"You are not likely to die of scurvy if you don't have an orange," Lachlan pointed out. "But Rodney might be very ill if it gets to him."

"Sorry." Except, he wasn't at all. He settled down, balancing his plate on his knees while he watched Grant slowly dig through his stocking, starting to peer through his own. There were little candy things, mint-things that looked nice, maybe air-puffed peppermint things? He wasn't sure, but he took a bite of pancake before he slipped one into his mouth.

It was really nice. Not too sweet but somehow satisfying, a little like a batter cake, and Grant was eating a sausage in a roll as he took each thing out as if it was precious. There were silly things in the stocking as well, the sort've toys they were meant to be too old to play with. There were small wrapped pairs of socks, and bits and pieces, and Grant had each one of his lined up in front of him, and it was the most he'd ever had in his life.

It really was, and it made Rodney sort of sad and sort of pleased too, because Grant could finally have things. "What's caught your eye most?" Rodney asked, leaning in close to Grant. There was no sense in asking what he liked the *most*, because he liked it all

"I..I like this toy," Grant said picking up the Rubik cube. "The colors move. You can make patterns."

Carson grinned. "The idea is to have someone mess it up randomly and then see how quickly you can get it back to that state."

"I think the messing it up part might be the best part," Rodney told him, watching Grant twist it.

"Here, Grant, do you want to try that?" Carson said, even as he ducked Collin's dart gunshot.

Grant nodded, and Carson took the cube and messed it up, then tossed it back to Grant who stared at it for a bit.

"I did mine in under five minutes once," Allan said, as he opened what appeared to be a smart looking tie.

Grant blinked at him a moment, and then, with sure deft movements, twisted and turned the Rubik's cube without hurrying until it was done.

It left Rodney feeling proud of Grant. He dumped his stocking out onto the niche of sofa to his right, and started to sort the candy back into the stocking.

"Right then. Main presents," Shona said. "Who do we have first, Collin, as you are nearest?"

"We have... a present for Grant from Rodney," Collin announce. "Pass it round."

"It's just..." Rodney sat up a little, and just hurriedly put the candy back into his stocking. "Something I made. I didn't get anyone anything really impressive..."

"Believe me, Rodney, there's no obligation," Shona reassured.

Grant took the gift, and started unwrapping it carefully. Carson settled himself next to Rodney and murmured. "What you get him?"

"Light." It was probably a weird answer, but it was true. He'd tried to think of something that Grant had wanted forever, and other than more books -- books, things to learn were always something Grant wanted -- Grant had wanted light. A light he could keep with him, small, and that never ran out of power.

So he'd made him one. It was small, but it had a battery, and a back up wind up dynamo.

The look on Grant's face as he opened it and realized what it was, was perfect. He looked shocked and amazed, and then, after he had turned it on and off a few times, totally delighted. He leaned over from where he was sitting on the floor and hugged Rodney’s legs.

"You're welcome," Rodney grinned, leaning down to press a hand against Grant's back. "I knew you'd like it."

"I have light!" Grant said looking up at him. "A light of my own! And, and it doesn't matter if it's dark because there is a light now."

A few other presents had been passed around while they had been talking and Carson had ended up with some clothes, and books.

"And here we have a present for Carson from Rodney, and one for Rodney from Carson," Collin said passing them over.

It seemed like the made by himself thing seemed to be a good idea, Rodney decided as he grinned back at his brother. "I thought you might like that. I wish I could've done it sooner." It was more interesting too, to see what people thought of what he got them, than the other way around.

"Hey, you made that?" Jamie asked. "That's cool. Things that are made are the best."

"Which means we've all got one of your creations again this year?" Isobel said.

"Aye, well, I think you'll be pleasantly surprised, Iz," Jamie answered, and Carson was opening his present beside him.

Rodney heard a laugh as Carson pulled out the item he had made. "It's probably not up to spec," he apologized, a little sheepishly.

"It's a stethoscope, you made me a stethoscope?" Carson asked grinning. "Oh hey, it works.." He placed it on Rodney's chest.

Rodney tried to not laugh, and just grinned while he watched Carson. "I hope so. It's just an acoustic stethoscope. I didn't want to try something more complicated with it and then just ruin its usefulness."

"I can't believe you made that. Dad, have a look at this," Carson said letting his father look at his present.

"That's a nice piece of equipment there," Lachlan approved. "Nice work, Rodney."

"Open your present!” Carson encouraged.

"If I ask you what it is before I open it, you'll smack me," Rodney bantered, starting to carefully slit the tapeline at the back.

Grant had just opened a present with a homemade scarf in it by Mairi, and had it wrapped around his neck. "What is it?"

Rodney peeled the paper off, and he was pleased by how heavy the whole thing felt -- heavy meant books, and books he knew he'd like, he always liked...

"Holy shit. Carson!"

Carson beamed. "Do you like it? You said you wanted one really badly."

"You, how did you do this?" He stroked a hand over the box carefully. There was part of an 'open box' sticker peeled off at the corner, and Rodney was torn between looking in detail at his prize and hugging Carson, because. Because Carson had spent who knew how much on a gift for *Rodney*, a CD player, and he'd wanted one, he had, because lasers and music and oh.

"I saved up," Carson said smiling. "Mum gave me lots of jobs to do and I did a few lawns this summer. And mum helped as well. She thought it was a good idea."

Shona nodded. "Your music should be encouraged Rodney. And I'm sure Grant and Carson will get a wee bit of use from it too."

"This is going right up into the..." Rodney waved his hand a little, and leaned over to hug Carson. "I almost said 'crash room' but I forget sometimes it's your bedroom, too."

"We'll all try it out," Carson replied, smiling at him.

"And that's where my present comes in," Lachlan said passing over a wrapped box that definitely had to be CD's of some description.

"You all conspired." It wasn't an accusation, though, because Rodney couldn't stop smiling as he took that wrapped box and looked down at the box on his lap. "I, thank you."

"You deserved it sweetheart," Shona assured him. "Considering what you've been through. Now, the big present for Carson is going to be shared by you and Grant as well okay?" A large box was pushed over towards them and there was really only one thing it could be. A computer.

"Carson should open it," Rodney said, voice tinged with a little awe. CD player, and CDs. He was trying to surreptitiously open the CD box.

Carson nodded and set about tearing his way into the box.

"Well, that's the boys taken care of for the day," Aileen commented dryly. "I have to say, Jamie, this jewelry is exquisite."

"All made by my own fair hands with the help of twin here," he said nodding to Mairi. "It's from both of us."

"Now this would sell commercially in a big way," Allan agreed, looking at his handcrafted tiepin in the shape of a dollar sign.

The CDs turned out to be two compilations, one of classical music, and one of the greatest hits of the year to date. Awesome. Rodney shifted them to the sofa behind him, and moved to sit beside Grant on the floor, seeing as Carson was already on the floor, plucking at the packing tape on his computer's sales box. "Hey, Grant."

"There are lots of things," Grant whispered to him. "Does that mean something bad will happen?"

"No." Rodney shifted, and slid an arm behind Grant, and just sat there, pulling his plate in close. "It means it's better than mom ever was."

Grant flicked his little light on and off a little while longer before asking very quietly, barely audible over the noise of Beckett siblings, "Is this home?"

"Yeah." Rodney slouched down a little, and picked at scrambled eggs that had gotten sticky bun in them. "We have a home, and this is it."

And surrounded by the sounds of a normal family bickering and laughing, for the first time he actually started to believe it.