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SEE PART 00 FOR WARNINGS AND NOTES

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Annie was already cooking breakfast when Sean first emerged from the bedroom, still in his robe.

"You didn't have to make us breakfast, honey," he said, kissing her cheek. "But it sure looks good," he said of the eggs she had frying in the pan.

"Can you do the toast, Daddy? That way it won't get cold while I'm doing this."

"Sure." Sean went to work on the toast while his daughter fussed over the eggs. She was already dressed for school, hair neatly combed and pulled into a barrette. He'd heard her in the shower earlier, and both men had stayed in bed to give her the time and privacy to finish her morning routine.

"There's toast up," she said, frowning, as if she thought Sean had lost his mind, standing there in the kitchen staring at her while hot toast was waiting for butter.

"Sorry," he said, chuckling a little. "I was just thinking how grown up you are," he added, feeling a little lump in his throat. "I remember when you were little, and you used to need your mom or me to comb your hair and get you ready for school." Sean didn't know why he was feeling such a stab of sadness. Children grew, that's how life went. The fact Annie was growing into a beautiful, capable young lady was a good thing.

"You still do the best braids in my hair," she said, coming over to give Sean a hug. The lump in his throat seemed to expand, but he swallowed it, returning the hug. She was not only growing taller, older, and more capable - - she was growing very wise, indeed.

"I'm really proud of you, princess."

"Thanks again for the DVD. I love it." She moved away then and went back to tending her eggs.

"You're welcome. I'm glad you like it." Sean watched her for another moment or two, then returned to his task with the toast.

 A few moments later, Christian emerged, showered, dressed, and ready for the day.

"What can I do to help?"

"Pour some orange juice and pour coffee if you and Daddy want it," Annie directed, not missing a detail of putting on the breakfast. She had started the coffee before beginning the eggs.

The three of them shared their breakfast, talking about what was going on at Annie's school, and considering some options for what they could do together the weekend Annie would be spending with them as part of the preliminary custody arrangement.

"I'd really like to come and live with you," Annie said, pinning Sean with an intent gaze. "I could still spend a lot of time with Mom, when she's not busy with Conor, or going out with Marlowe."

"Don't you think it might hurt your mom's feelings if you moved out of the house?" Christian asked.

"Maybe, but I think she'd understand. She keeps telling me she wants me to be happy, and if moving in with you is what makes me happy, she shouldn't be upset about it." Annie sighed. "Besides, I don't think she'll miss me that much."

"You know better than that," Christian said.

"Annie, your mother and I both want you to be happy. We don't need to rush into anything. Think about it, and we'll all talk it over, and we'll do our best to make the best decision for all of us, okay?"

"Okay."

"These eggs are great," Christian added. "The toast isn't so great," he needled, and Annie laughed.

"If you're going to insult my cooking, I'll be in the other room," Sean replied, standing and heading to the bathroom to shower and shave. "Thanks for breakfast, Annie. Uncle Christian will do the dishes."

"Oh, is that right?" Christian retorted.

"I'll make it up to you later," Sean said, the real message going over Annie's head, but making a direct hit with Christian.

"Sounds fair to me," Christian said, winking at Sean before he disappeared into the bathroom.

Sean had just finished dressing when Julia arrived to pick up Annie. He answered the door, and let Julia in while Annie grabbed her backpack

"Ready to go?" she asked her daughter, who nodded.

"Look what Daddy got me for my birthday," she said, showing Julia the DVD before tucking it in her backpack.

"Wow. You've been wanting that, too. Looks like Daddy still can't hang onto your best presents until your birthday," she added, directing a knowing smile at Sean.

"I'm sure there'll still be one or two things to open at the party," Sean replied, returning the smile. They had a dinner party planned for Annie's birthday, including Sean, Christian, Julia, Matt, Kimber, Liz, Conor, and Marlowe. None of them were sure how the potentially volatile group would all handle being together, but all were willing to give it a try for the occasion.

"We have to go, Mom. I'm gonna be late," Annie said, checking her watch. "Bye, Daddy," she hugged Sean, and he kissed the top of her head.

"Do I get one, too?" Christian asked, joining the group.

"Sure." Annie gladly gave Christian a hug, and then followed Julia out the door.

"You okay?" Christian asked, watching Sean's oddly melancholy expression.

"It just hit me today how fast she's growing up. It seems like she was just a toddler not that long ago."

"It wasn't that long ago, Sean. She's only turning 13, not 40," Christian said. When Sean didn't laugh or smile at the remark, Christian slid his arm around Sean's shoulders. "What's really eating you?"

"I don't know. I guess when she was fixing breakfast this morning, I realized that while Julia and I were going through this tug of war the last few years, Annie grew up while we weren't looking. It won't be long, and I won't be her hero anymore."

"I have this feeling you always will be. She's pretty set on living with you."

"Would that be okay with you?"

"I love Annie, you know that. Of course it's okay. We better get a move on. Our first consult is at nine, and I had a voicemail from our lawyer that Michelle's lawyer called him to set up a meeting for all of us later this morning. She has her response to our proposal."

"It would be too simple for her to say yes or no, wouldn't it?" Sean picked up his keys and stuffed them in his pocket as they started out the door. Just then, his cell phone rang.

"Sean, it's me," Julia said. "The car won't start. Is there any chance I could take your rental to take Annie to school?"

"Sure. I can ride with Christian, and we'll handle the car thing for you. Just keep the rental. We're on our way down."

"Thanks, Sean."

"Julia's car won't start, so I'm giving her the rental."

"Okay. I'll walk out with you. The fresh air'll do me good," Christian joked, since his car was parked in his building's garage. "Besides, maybe Julia's car just needs a little coaxing by experienced hands," he said.

"Works wonders for me."

They approached where Julia and Annie were waiting near Sean's rental car, parked on the street in front of Christian's building.

"Thanks for doing this, Sean. It's just dead, the engine doesn't even turn over," Julia said, handing him her keys.

"Let me try it," Christian said, plucking the keys from Sean's hand.

"Why is it that men always think women don't know how to turn on an ignition?" Julia asked, exasperated. "We've got to go," she said, opening the door of the rental car.

"I'll call you later and let you know what's going on with your car. Was your appointment at the dealership?"

"Yes. I talked to a guy named Ron."

"Okay. Talk to you later, then. Have a good day, princess," he directed at Annie, who waved at him with a big grin as she got in the car. He closed Julia's door and headed the few parking spaces back to where Christian was unsuccessfully trying to start Julia's car. He leaned inside the open driver's door. "Not responding to the magic hands, huh?"

"Not even a spark," Christian replied, giving up. Just then, a deafening, crashing, thunderous bellow of noise assaulted their ears, and flying debris landed near the car, barely missing Sean where he stood next to it.

"Julia! Annie!" Sean hollered, seeing heavy black smoke and orange flames leaping from the direction where the rental car was parked. As he ran toward it, Christian was right behind him. The sedan was engulfed in flames, and Sean felt an arm go around his middle and pull him back before he could get any closer. "We've got to get them out of there!" he shouted. People were gathering on the street, keeping their distance from the car that had the potential to explode again, once the fire consumed the gas tank.

"The gas tank's gonna go any minute, Sean," Christian said, his voice breaking as he pulled Sean backwards.

"I don't care! I have to get them out of there!"

"Damn it, look at the fire, Sean. They're gone," Christian said, the misery plain in his voice. "They're gone," he repeated, as if he couldn't quite believe it himself. As Sean made one more attempt to lunge forward, away from him, the car exploded again, and Christian barely had time to throw them both back on the grass nearby to avoid the second round of flaming debris.

"Somebody do something!" Sean shouted, scrambling up to his feet, and running toward the fire, almost making it to the flames before Christian caught up to him again, restraining him.

Sirens were audible in the distance, and Sean's body finally lost most of its fight, then most of its strength, sliding out of Christian's grip to land on the grass. Sean was on his knees staring at the inferno that had just devoured Julia and Annie, and there was a look of horror and acceptance on his face that Christian found both unbearable and a relief at the same time.

He couldn't think about what happened, the atrocity of it, whether or not they suffered or ever knew what hit them. He had to focus on Sean, and stay strong for him. Christian knelt on the grass next to his partner, wishing now Sean would break down, cry, scream, anything but this vacant, icy silence as he stared at the flames.

"Sean, look at me," he said, trying to get a reaction. "Sean, say something," he prodded, slapping lightly at the uninjured side of Sean's face, though he knew the light slaps wouldn't have hurt the healing fracture. His emotions were so close to the surface that he wanted to let them go and grieve for his longtime friend, and for the little girl that felt like she was as much his as Sean's. Their daughter, that's how he thought of her. And Matt, and Conor, too. Their children.

Sean let out a wail of anguish unlike anything Christian had ever heard, before collapsing against him, his body shaking uncontrollably with sobs and cries so wracking that they shook both men where they huddled together just feet from the deadly explosion. Christian cried with him, holding him tightly, as if he could somehow stop the shaking and the pain by the sheer power of his embrace. He could feel Sean's arms go around him, his hands grabbing the fabric of Christian's suit coat, hanging on as if his life depended on the contact.

"I'm here, Sean. I won't let go," he said against Sean's ear, not sure if Sean could even hear him or understand him. His own ears rang relentlessly from the noise of the explosion. "It's okay, Sean, I'm right here," Christian kept him close, stroking his hair, rocking a little, not caring how many bystanders gaped at them, or whether or not they were caught by the tasteless ghouls who were actually filming the fire with their cell phones and digital cameras.

The police were pulling up at a safe distance as the fire truck pulled up closer, preparing to put out the flames with high-powered hoses.

"Don't let them shoot those hoses in there. The force is too much," Sean protested weakly.

"They have to put out the fire so it doesn't spread to other cars and endanger anyone else," Christian said gently.

"There won't be anything left. I need to hold my little girl again."

"I know, Sean. I want that, too." Christian started to stand, and pulled Sean up with him, realizing that Sean's legs were not going to serve him well. "We have to move back." Somehow, he moved them both, keeping Sean upright, until they made it to a bench in front of the condo complex. "If I could trade with them, I would," Christian said through his own tears. Sean's grip on him became impossibly tighter.

"Don't say that," Sean gasped.

"I'm okay, and I'm here. But you know I'd have died to save Annie and Julia if I could have, and you would, too. We just couldn't."

"How do I live with this?"

Christian didn't think Sean expected a definitive answer; he wasn't entirely sure Sean was even completely able to organize his thoughts, but he had to say something, give Sean something to hold onto, besides him. "Conor needs us, Sean. We're going to be his parents, and we're going to be there for him. And for Matty. Our family needs us," Christian said, his tears plain in his voice.

"Were you injured in the explosion?" A police officer approached them.

"His wife and daughter were in the car," Christian said, trying hard to keep his emotions under control, to take over and be strong for Sean. "We weren't injured beyond our ears ringing."

"Did you witness the explosion?"

"Yes. God help me, yes," Sean muttered.

"Your names?" he asked, pen at the ready.

"Sean McNamara and Christian Troy," Christian said. "The...the victims were Julia McNamara, Sean's ex-wife, and their daughter, Annie."

"I'm sorry for your loss, Mr. McNamara. The detective on the scene will want to talk to you both, so please wait here. Are you sure you don't want him checked out by the EMT's?" the young officer asked.

"I'm not deaf or insane, so don't talk about me like I'm not here," Sean snapped. "I don't need an ambulance."

"Take it easy, Sean. He's just doing his job."

"It's okay. I'm really sorry, sir. Just trying to help," he said, his tone more sincere this time than it was when he delivered what sounded like lines rehearsed in the academy for dealing with victims' families at the scene.

"How are your ears?" Christian asked.

"Ringing like hell, but I can hear," Sean responded.

"Here," Christian handed him a handkerchief, but Sean just let it hang limply in his hand. "Hey, let's get you cleaned up a little." Christian blotted some of the tears from Sean's cheeks, and Sean took the handkerchief from him and wiped his nose. By now the crowd was losing interest in the smoldering and increasingly waterlogged wreck, and began gawking at Sean and Christian, trying to figure out their role in the emergency.

"Let's go inside," a familiar voice suggested. Both men were relieved to see Detective Fishman, the cop who had worked the Carver case before being pushed aside by Kit. At least it was someone who knew them. "Sean, I need to talk to you about the explosion. Can we go inside?" he asked, placing a hand on Sean's shoulder.

"The fire's almost out," Sean said, not seeming to even notice Fishman's presence. "I need to see if...if there's anything left."

"If there is, you don't want to see it, Sean. Julia and Annie were both beautiful girls, and you want to remember them that way. Seeing anything that's in that car won't be seeing your wife or daughter, and it'll just give you nightmares," Fishman added.

"Maybe if I'd just gone into the fire I could have pulled them out."

"We don't have the forensic work done on it, obviously, but I can tell you that once that explosion happened, it was over."

"There was a second explosion," Sean said.

"Probably the gas tank, but we'll know more later. Look, let's go inside and sit down. You can tell me as much as you know about what happened." He still had his hand on Sean's shoulder, and Sean finally nodded. He took Sean's arm so that someone would be on both sides when he stood. Sean initially shook off the support. "You're a doctor, you know how shocks like these affect people," Fishman said. "When you stand, your legs are liable to have other ideas. Let us get you inside."

"I should be dead. It was my rental car. Julia's car wouldn't start. They weren't supposed to die, I was."

"Come on, Sean," Christian coaxed, and once Sean stood, he didn't resist the support. Christian could feel his body shaking with every step. He felt weak himself, and not too steady on his feet. "We'll go upstairs, get away from the crowd."

The three men made their way back into the building and to the elevator. Once they were inside Christian's condo, Sean sat down on the couch with Christian next to him, and Fishman sat in a nearby chair.

"I'll get you some water," Christian said to Sean, but Fishman waved that off.

"I can get him a glass of water. You guys take it easy and catch your breath."

While the detective stepped to the kitchen, Christian rubbed Sean's back gently as he sat next to him on the couch. Sean reached over to the coffee table and picked up a small, pink, elastic circle. It was the hair band Annie had taken off while they were all relaxing on the couch the night before.

"She said she liked the way I braided her hair," Sean said, his voice barely audible. "It was so fine and I remember how it used to feel like silk between my fingers when I braided it for her." Sean clutched the little piece of elastic, his body shaking violently with the new wave of anguish it had brought on. Christian held him, resting his head against the back of Sean's head, unable to hold back his own grief any longer.

"Is there anyone we should call?" Fishman asked, setting two glasses of water on the table.

"Don't release their names to the press. Matt doesn't know," Sean said, straightening, and Christian moved away a little.

"I'll call Matty, Sean," Christian said, keeping a hand on Sean's back. He looked up at Fishman. "Could you go to the office, talk to Liz Cruz, and ask her to go to Sean's place and talk to Conor's nanny, Marlowe, and maybe stay with Conor if Marlowe wants to leave?"

"Not a problem. I'll head over there right now."

"Thanks. I know you don't have to do all this for us," Sean said, snorkeling loudly and blinking a few times to clear his eyes.

"I'll be back later, after you've had time to clear your head a little."

Christian was relieved when he heard the door open and close, and they were alone again. He knew Sean was suffering on a level so deep and profound that it defied words, and yet a part of him wished Sean would comfort him. As if Sean had read his mind, he looked at Christian. His face was flushed and wet with tears, his blue eyes were painfully red, but there was a moment of peace in them when he looked at Christian.

"We still have each other," he said, reaching up to touch Christian's face. "You loved them, too, I know," he said, and Christian didn't know what broke the control of his emotions more quickly - - the invitation to let go and not be strong or the look in Sean's eyes that let him know his partner would survive anything as long as Christian was by his side.

Sean put his arms around Christian this time, his own tears quieting a little as Christian gave in to his.

"I need to call Matt," Christian said, pulling back, trying hard to calm himself down. He dialed Matt's number, holding Sean's hand while he waited for the answer.

"Hello."

"Matt, it's Christian," he said, hating the tremor in his voice.

"You sound lousy. Where are you?"

"I'm at my place. Matty, you need to get over here right away. I can't explain on the phone, but you need to come over now."

"Did something happen to my dad?" Matt asked right away.

"No, he's with me, and he's fine. Just do it, okay, kiddo?"

"Yeah, sure, I'm starting out right now. Can't you tell me what this is about?"

"Not now. I'll tell you everything when you get here."

"Okay. I'll be right there."

Christian put his phone away and looked at Sean. "I'm going to get you something to help you relax," he said, patting Sean's back.

"No," he replied, his voice raspy. "I need to be in my right mind when Matt gets here."

"Okay, we'll wait until then, but then I'm ordering it as your doctor. I'm going to check your pressure," Christian added, leaving Sean on the couch to retrieve the blood pressure cuff they'd used immediately after Sean's car accident while his blood pressure was elevated.

"I'll never forget when my grandmother died," Sean said, smiling faintly as Christian sat next to him again and encouraged him to take off his suit coat. He put the cuff on and began inflating it. "It was her mother, but my mom was comforting everyone else. It was the biggest loss for her, but she consoled me, comforted my great aunt and looked after her needs, she even was strong for Julia...they liked each other a lot, my grandmother and Julia." Sean wiped at his eyes. "Her mother was dead, and she was strong for everyone else."

"Your mom was quite a lady," Christian agreed, smiling at the thought of Sean's mother, and what a kind, friendly woman she had been. "As soon as Matt goes, I'll get you something. It's high," he said, removing the blood pressure cuff.

"I wish she was still here," Sean added, his voice breaking. "She always knew what I needed to hear to get by. Even when I was the school freak, she knew how to make it easier. Sometimes I still miss her so much that I can't believe it. How's that for ridiculous - - a grown man wanting his mommy?"

"I don't think you outgrow needing people you love. She wasn't just your mother. She was your friend."

"Yeah, she was," Sean agreed, nodding. "I should wash up." He stood, and Christian was on his feet in an instant, since Sean appeared to reel a little when he stood.

"Any pain in your face, around the fracture?" Christian asked.

"My head's just throbbing. I don't know what's my face and what's from...everything else. I need the john." Sean walked away, heading for the bathroom. Christian let him go, glad in a way that he was up and moving, even if he would have preferred to keep a close watch on him every minute.

********

Sean splashed water on his face and stared at himself in the mirror. He barely recognized the reflection that looked back at him. Beyond that, looking at himself forced him to face reality. He was alive, and Annie wasn't. This wasn't a dream. He was moving, functioning, going through mundane motions like using the bathroom, washing his face... Life was already going on. It seemed unthinkable to do anything, to wash his face and hands, wipe them on a towel, blow his nose, notice the pain surrounding his healing fracture, even to notice the sun spilling in the windows of the condo.

He was glad his suit coat was in the living room, with its grass stains and soot. His legs felt weak, and he was shivering from a cold that came from deep within his soul. He wanted to shower and wash his hair and get the smell of the fire off him, but he didn't feel strong enough.

"Put this on," Christian was behind him with a hooded sweatshirt, appearing as if from thin air. Sean slid his arms into it, and even though it was too large, the warmth felt good. "You're shaking," Christian added, opening his arms. Sean gladly went into them, taking in the familiar scent and feeling of his partner. Christian had taken off his suit and wore casual pants and a sweater in its place. It wasn't until now that they were both realizing how strongly their clothes smelled of smoke from the fire. "Why don't you change into fresh clothes? We still have a few minutes before anyone gets here."

"Yeah, I think I will."

"Need help?" Christian asked, not appearing too confident in Sean's slightly unsteady gait.

"I'll be okay."

Sean went into the bedroom and found a favorite pair of khakis and a blue shirt. He changed his clothes, then put Christian's sweatshirt over the top for a little extra warmth.

The doorbell rang, followed by a frantic knock, accompanied by Matt's voice.

"I'll get it," Sean called to Christian, moving toward the door. He opened it, and Matt burst in the door.

"I saw Mom's car out front. There are cops and fire department people all over the place and a burned out car. Where is she?" Finally really looking at Sean's grief-ravaged face, Matt froze and all animation seemed to leave him in one shaky exhaled breath. "Where's Mom?" he repeated.

"Matt, I don't know how to say this," Sean began, taking a hold of Matt by the shoulders. Matt looked at him with an expression of horror.

"Mom?" Matt asked, his lip quivering.

"There was an explosion, and...and...no survivors," Sean managed, barely containing his own emotions. Matt's face crumbled at that, and he embraced Sean, sobbing into his shoulder. "Matt, your mom was here to pick up Annie," Sean said. At the mention of his daughter's name, it felt like a knife went straight into his heart, and twisted. "She was in the car with her."

"Not Annie, too?" Matt pulled back, his eyes wide. The words had an unexpected impact on Sean, and he found himself unable to say anything. Christian put his arms around Sean, and around Matt, the three of them in a sort of huddle.

"Your mom's car wouldn't start, so she was going to use your dad's rental car, and he was going to take her car into the shop for her, so Annie wouldn't be late for school," Christian explained softly.

"Who did this?" Matt asked through his tears, and Sean realized he'd been so traumatized by the situation that he hadn't even begun to think about the fact that this was no accident, that someone wanted him dead, and that Julia and Annie had paid an awful price for a change of plans the murderer could never have anticipated.

"We don't know any details yet, Matty," Christian said.

"Whoever it was, was trying for me, obviously. I wish it had been me. I'd give anything to bring them back," Sean said, though Matt seemed oblivious.

"What did you do that someone would want you dead for?" he demanded.

"This isn't Sean's fault, and this isn't the time. Take it easy."

"Take it easy? My mother and my sister were just blown sky high, and you tell me to take it easy?"

"This is painful for everyone, Matt." Sean took in a deep but shaky breath. "I don't know who did it, but we're going to find out."

"You didn't want her anyway. She was in the way of your new life. Mom was just a loose end you didn't want anymore," he accused through his tears.

"Matt, don't go there," Christian admonished, his tone stern.

"I guess this is cheaper than a divorce," he snapped, storming toward the door.

Christian grabbed Matt by the arm and spun him around, but Sean got between them.

"Let go of him, Christian. He's as shocked as we are," he said in a rough voice. Christian didn't want to struggle with Sean or put any more stress on him, so he released Matt, who strode out the door, slamming it behind him.

"He's just lashing out at whoever's handiest, and..." Christian took a hold of Sean's shoulders. "You do know it's not your fault, that he's just hurting you because you're here and he needs to get it out somehow?"

"I know. It's not like other people won't think that way, since we were getting divorce."

"It's his grief talking. That's a bullshit theory and anyone who knows you would know that."

"It should have been me," Sean said miserably.

"Don't say that." Christian pulled Sean into his arms. "Don't hate me for being glad it wasn't, that you're here, alive, in my arms."

"I couldn't hate you for anything," Sean said quietly.

"You need to lie down." Christian started steering Sean toward the bedroom.

"I don't want to be drugged."

"I'm not going to drug you. I just want you to take something mild and lie down for a while. You're in no shape to talk to Fishman or anyone else until you've rested. If you were thinking like a doctor right now, you'd say the same thing."

Sean sat on the edge of the bed. "Something mild, that's it."

"I'll be right back." Christian returned a few moments later with a mild sedative and a glass of water. Sean took the pill without further objection. He'd taken off his shoes when he changed, so he stretched out on the bed, on his side. Christian got on the bed from the other side, spooning up behind Sean. "Relax, close your eyes."

"If I sleep very long, promise me you'll check on Matt and make sure he's okay."

"I promise." Christian stayed there until Sean fell asleep, glad that his partner had a respite from the agony of what they were going through, and wondering how he would face it all once the sedative wore off.

********

Christian called Kimber, only to find out that Matt was already safely back at her apartment. Her sympathy seemed sincere, and her voice broke when she spoke of Annie. Even though she wasn't close to either Julia or Annie, she had gotten to know Sean's daughter a little in the brief time she'd dated him, and she had liked Annie. Annie, for her part, always seemed a bit suspicious of Kimber, which was probably a sign of a good survival instinct.

Next, he called Sean's house, and Liz answered the phone.

"Liz, it's me," he said, not realizing until now how tired he was, or how much he wanted to take a couple pills and go sleep next to Sean.

"Oh, Christian, this is just awful," she said, her voice shaking. "How is Sean?"

"I sedated him and he's sleeping. He's destroyed, how else could he be? God, Liz, it was horrible."

"Marlowe went out after he found out, so I've been watching Conor. Poor little guy doesn't even know what's going on. Marlowe said he'd be back later to relieve me. Is it okay to leave Conor with him, or does Sean want him over there?"

"Sean's in no condition to take care of a baby right now. I don't know if he'll want to go back to the house. I don't think he should be facing all those memories yet."

"You know I'll stay with Conor as long as you need me to. I left a message for Michelle. She was out when Detective Fishman came by. We'll probably just close the office for a few days."

"With no surgeons and no anesthesiologist, that makes the most sense. None of us are going to be up to operating right away."

"What really happened? Fishman said they were killed when their car exploded."

"It was Sean's rental car that exploded. Julia came over to pick up Annie, and her car wouldn't start. Sean let her have the rental car so she could get Annie to school on time, and he was going to take her car in for her later...assuming we could get it to start. I was trying to start it when...there was this deafening noise. As soon as Julia and Annie got in the car, it exploded. I don't know if Julia started it or not." Christian was quiet a moment. "Liz, all we could do is stand there and watch it burn. The fire was so...consuming that there was no way to get near it."

"Sean's probably blaming himself for giving her the rental car."

"Somewhat. I'm trying to get him away from that line of thinking. He couldn't have known."

"That means someone wants Sean dead, because he was the likely person to get into that car this morning."

"Fishman's coming back over to talk to us this afternoon, but I think I'll handle it on my own and keep Sean out of it until he's had some rest."

"One pill won't keep him down all day."

"No, but the other one I dissolved in his water will."

"How are you holding up?"

"Right now I feel kind of numb. Maybe it's not sinking in because I'm more worried about Sean," Christian speculated. "Maybe I'm feeling guilty because I'm glad it wasn't Sean who got into that car. How terrible a person does that make me?"

"I'd say it means that you love Sean more than you do anyone else, and his death would be more unbearable than anyone else's." Liz paused. "You can't help how you feel, Christian. It doesn't mean you didn't love Julia or Annie."

"Annie was like my own daughter," Christian said, his voice shaking.

"She was a wonderful little girl," Liz agreed, the sadness plain in her voice. "I keep thinking that if I feel this bad, how is Sean going to move on from this? This house is so full of all of them, and memories."

"Sean's strong. He'll pull through, even if he doesn't think he will. We'll be there for him, he has Conor to raise. He'll rally for him."

"And for you," Liz added.

"Yeah, I know."

"Do you even have any ideas who could have done this?" Liz asked, and Christian almost told her what had been haunting him since shortly after the explosion.

"To be honest, we haven't even started to cope with that question."

"What about Escobar?"

"I thought of him, but we haven't done anything to piss him off lately, and he likes Sean in a sick, twisted way. I don't think he'd want him dead."

"Let me know what else I can do. I can bring Conor over if Sean wants to see him later without coming to the house."

"He'd probably like that. I'll let you know when he's up."

After hanging up the phone, Christian went into the bedroom to check on Sean. He was still sleeping, though the wet eyelashes and slightly damp-looking pillow were indicators he'd cried in his sleep. Part of Christian wanted to hold him, to lie down with him and just be close, but he didn't want to wake him. Sean seemed peaceful, and that was the whole point of sedating him. The doorbell rang, and Christian was glad that Sean didn't stir. He went to the door, not surprised to see Fishman standing there.

"Come in," Christian invited, standing back until the detective entered, then closing the door. "Can I get you anything? Please, have a seat," Christian added, joining him in the living room.

"Thanks. No, I'm good. I've been drinking coffee all day."

"I hope you won't mind taking a statement from me. Sean's sedated. His blood pressure was up, and he's too emotional right now to give a rational statement about anything." Christian sat in a chair near the end of the couch Fishman occupied.

"I was hoping to talk with you both. Anything you can tell me now could be the difference between solving the case and not."

"Sean wanted to talk to you. I slipped him extra meds so he'd sleep for some solid hours. Once he's up and starts really dealing with this long term, it's going to wear him out." Christian paused. "Were there any...are there any remains?"

"There are badly charred remains. We've been able to separate one from the other for purposes of the autopsies, so they'll be individually...identified for burial or cremation. There's nothing left loved ones should see."

"When will they be released so we can plan some kind of funeral or memorial service?"

"We'll do our best to wrap up that part of our forensic investigation as quickly as possible. A couple of days, probably, assuming all goes smoothly."

"Okay," Christian said, nodding. "I think it's better Sean hears that from me."

"That's fine. Let's start at the beginning. Why were Mrs. McNamara and her daughter here?"

"Julia had plans last night with Conor's nanny, Marlowe. They had some issues to work out and wanted some privacy. Annie wasn't too thrilled with their relationship, anyway, so Julia thought it best to have Annie spend the night with us."

"Mrs. McNamara was having a thing with the nanny?" Fishman asked, looking surprised.

"Yeah, it caught us off guard, too."

"For how long?"

"A few months now. They first did the deed before Sean and Julia split up again, and I guess once she was free, they picked up where they left off."

"Was that the reason for the divorce?" Fishman asked.

"In part. The other part was that Sean and I are lovers."

"This is a recent development?" Fishman looked a bit stunned, but had the courtesy to keep his expression mostly neutral and his tone professional.

"Very. Sean was in a near-fatal car accident several weeks ago, and it brought a lot of things into focus. We got together, and broke off our other relationships."

"So this is a permanent arrangement?"

"We haven't exactly exchanged rings yet, but I hope it's permanent."

"Anyone you know who would be really upset by that?"

"Michelle Landau," Christian volunteered without hesitation. Her anger and her implied threat had been on his mind since the explosion. "We were having an affair, and her husband recently passed away, and she thought we would have a future together."

"They bought your practice, right?"

"Yes, Michelle and her husband, Burt Landau - - he died recently, so we're dealing only with Michelle now. He was a big investor, made his money off buying up businesses and turning them into multi million-dollar ventures. We still own 49% of the practice, and we're negotiating with her right now to buy back her interest."

"Wanting to buy her out followed you and Sean...changing your relationship?"

"Yes. The stress of working with Michelle under these circumstances is intolerable, and we're also not prepared to have someone else participating in the management of the practice anymore. She tried to rekindle things with me, telling me it was my last chance. Something in her voice gave me chills."

"Last chance for what, exactly?"

"To be with her, to not buy her out, to go on like she was hoping we would."

"Anyone else we should know about?"

"Not that I can think of."

Christian thought of James, but kept it to himself. She had a thing for Michelle, and truthfully, it would be in her best interest to leave Sean alone and keep the path clear for herself to pursue Michelle. Another part of himself wasn't prepared to talk to Fishman about doing business with a madam. And then there was Escobar, but with his new face in place, he had nothing but good feelings for Sean, who saved his life by decking the scalpel-wielding Bobolit during surgery and getting Escobar back under anesthesia. He'd even presented Sean with a photo of a very dead Antonio Perez, the last person who could reveal their late night gator-feeding romp in the swamp a few years back.

"This comes close on the heels of Escobar Gallardo's escape from custody while recovering in your surgery suite," Fishman said.

"I don't know why he'd come after us. We did his surgery with the permission of prison officials. We fixed his face, we didn't damage it. There'd be no reason for him to come after Sean or me. As a matter of fact, Sean saved his life in the OR."

"Yes, I heard about that. Pretty remarkable, considering what a dirtbag Gallardo is."

"He was a patient, and Sean's a doctor. He takes his oath very seriously."

"More seriously that you would in similar circumstances?"

"Like you said, the guy was a dirtbag. I don't know if I'd risk decking some scalpel-wielding nut to save his sorry ass."

"We still haven't apprehended Gallardo. You never received any contacts or threats from him since his escape?"

"No," Christian lied, making a mental note to get Sean on the same page so their stories matched. There was no reason to truly suspect Escobar, so there was nothing to gain by self-destructing and spilling their guts now.

"How were the divorce negotiations going between Sean and his wife?"

"Amicably. They had most everything worked out. They didn't want a long, difficult battle for the kids to go through."

"No bad blood then? She just accepted the whole thing quietly?"

"Not exactly," Christian admitted, pausing. "I should probably let Sean tell you this himself, but he's got enough on his dish. When Sean told Julia about us, they argued, and she was upset, and she threw a glass votive holder at him. It hit him and fractured his cheekbone. He's just now getting back on solid food and the swelling and bruising are all but gone. She was very apologetic about it, and Sean was upset, but he forgave her."

"Did they have a history of domestic violence?"

"No. Sean never even spanked the kids."

"What about Julia?"

"He never hit her, either."

"No, I meant, was this the first time she hit him?"

"I think they had a couple other arguments where she threw something. Sean can tell you more about that."

"Okay. I'll talk with him about that. Going back to today, Annie was staying here overnight?"

"Yes. We watched a Hannah Montana concert DVD Sean got for Annie's birthday. She was thrilled with it," Christian said, swallowing hard. "It was a nice family evening. This morning, Annie fixed us breakfast. I can't believe how fast she's grown up," Christian added, finding his emotions closer to the surface than he expected.

"Take your time, Christian. It's difficult to do this so soon, but time is a key factor in any investigation. Anything unusual happen last night or this morning? Any odd phone calls, people loitering around outside you didn't recognize, anything at all out of the ordinary?"

"Not that I remember. Sean and I had dinner in, and then Julia called to ask about dropping Annie off, we didn't go anywhere once she got here...I didn't really look outside until this morning, other than a passing glance. We got a couple phone calls last night, but they were people we knew, so nothing odd."

"Do you remember what time the calls came in, and who they were from?"

"Is that important?"

"Probably not, but you can't overlook anything."

"I got a call on my cell phone about 9:30 from a former...acquaintance. She asked about getting together. I declined, told her I was in a relationship. Her name is Amber, but I don't know her last name. There was a call on the land line here a little earlier from some charity - - I didn't recognize it, so I didn't talk to them long. That was probably 8:00 or so, if I had to take a guess. I don't really remember."

"Sean didn't get any calls?"

"Not that I remember, no."

"Did either of you leave for any reason between when Annie arrived and this morning?"

"No."

"How about Sean?"

"No, neither of us. He was sleeping in the same bed with me, so I know where he was."

"He couldn't have gotten up without waking you?"

"What is this about? You're not seriously considering Sean a suspect in this?"

"Personally, no, but he's an ex-spouse and there's been domestic violence and considerable tension over the...changes in your relationship, so I have to get all the facts about anyone who could even be considered a suspect."

"Let's just say that if Sean had moved that much during the night, I would have felt it. That clear enough?"

"I'm just doing my job, and if I didn't ask questions about your whereabouts, and Sean's, I'd be a pretty shitty detective."

"His daughter was killed. He'd have to be some kind of monster."

"No arguments there, and I don't believe he's capable of that. I have a lot of respect for how your partner handled his involvement with the Carver. He's got guts, and he put himself on the line for that investigation. I don't think he had anything to do with this, but I need information to eliminate him as a suspect as much as I would to make him one. Now, explain to me how this whole car switching thing came about."

"Julia came over this morning to pick up Annie to take her to school. She was going to take her car in to the shop today, after she dropped Annie off, since it had been giving her some problems."

"What kind of problems?"

"Mainly electrical, sensor lights going on or something - - at least I think that's what it was. She couldn't get it started this morning, so she asked Sean if she could take the rental car. He was going to take the car in for her, and I could give him rides wherever he needed to go until it got straightened out. I took Julia's keys and tried to start her car, while Julia and Annie...got in the other car. Sean came back to where I was, to see if I was having any luck with it."

"So he got clear of the rental car, after Julia and Annie were inside?"

"I guess so. I wasn't really watching him. I was trying to get her car started, and he came up to the open driver's door to see how I was doing. The next thing we heard was the explosion."

"What did you do next?"

"Got out of Julia's car, ran toward the rental car, but when I could see it was engulfed, I held Sean back. He wanted to go right into the fire to try to pull them out, but I held onto him. After the second explosion, I think he knew it was hopeless. He finally stopped fighting me."

"Who else knew Julia would be here this morning?"

"I don't know...Marlowe, I suppose. I don't know if Annie told anyone."

"Julia left her car to come up and pick up Annie?"

"Yes. They went downstairs and then Julia called Sean to say the car wouldn't start and to ask to take the rental."

"So he didn't offer, she asked?"

"When Julia first mentioned the car trouble, Sean offered to take it in for her and let her use the rental. She refused, but then when it wouldn't start, she wanted to get Annie to school, so she asked him if she could take it. We went downstairs together to give Julia the keys, and I decided to try to start her car just for the hell of it. We were most likely going to go into the office in my car and then come back later to deal with Julia's car."

"Okay," Fishman concluded, making a couple final notes. "Any idea when your partner will come out of the sedation?"

"He's not going to be up to this until tomorrow."

"All right. I've got enough to get started. Here's my card," he said, standing, and Christian stood also, taking the card. "Have Sean give me a call tomorrow when he's ready."

"I will. Thanks," Christian said, following him to the door.

After Fishman left, Christian went back into the bedroom where Sean had changed positions but didn't appear to have awakened at all. Christian climbed onto the bed and spooned his body behind Sean's. He let himself drift a little, giving in to the emotional exhaustion of the last several hours.

********

The next few days were the predictable blur of activity that follows a death in the family. Julia's parents were both notified, and Erica decided to fly in immediately to participate in the arrangements for the memorial service. Julia's father planned to attend the service once a date was set. He seemed to prefer not to spend additional time in the same town as his ex-wife. Annie's school invited the family to attend their memorial service, scheduled for a Thursday afternoon in a courtyard garden, where they planned to dedicate a new tree and small angel statue to Annie's memory. Sean and Christian moved into Sean's house, and Marlowe agreed to continue as Conor's nanny. Sean wasn't thrilled with Marlowe in many ways, but it would provide Conor some much-needed continuity in his care, at least until Sean himself was better focused on finding a permanent solution.

The media camped at a minimum distance from the house, waiting to catch a glimpse of one of them coming or going so they could swarm them like killer bees. Christian had made a single appearance on the edge of the property to inform them, on camera, that they wouldn't tolerate any trespassing or intrusion on the family's grief, and any reporters violating that should expect to have the police haul them off in handcuffs. Sean knew the case was becoming a media circus, there was little way to protect him from that realization when the major cable news networks all had vans parked down the street. So far, he had little interest in dwelling on the media's sensational, unending coverage and commentary on his family's tragedy.

Christian's prediction that Sean would rise to the occasion proved right. Though he slept very little and ate less, he was up and functioning, taking phone calls and expressions of sympathy and participating in the memorial service arrangements. Occasionally Christian would find him sitting with Conor in his arms in Annie's room, as if he were just spending quiet time with his daughter's memory. Christian usually left him alone at those times to give him the opportunity to sort out his thoughts and cope with his grief; Sean always sought him out when he needed him.

A sunny Wednesday afternoon found Sean and Christian sitting at the kitchen table, finalizing the memorial service arrangements with Erica, who had the composure of a CEO mobilizing her minions.

"What about flowers? Have you thought about the flowers?" Erica's insistent voice was like a scalpel slicing into Sean's brain. He knew dealing with Julia's mother was inevitable, and for Julia's sake, he had steeled himself for the prospect of spending time with Erica, but it didn't make it any less repugnant. The fact Julia had called her mother and told her about the change in his relationship with Christian hadn't endeared him to her heart.

Julia and Annie were not only dead, but destroyed until what was left was better off in a can than in a casket, and Erica was surprised he hadn't decided what color flowers should flank their portraits at the memorial service.

"Actually, we asked Kimber to work with the florist to design something. There will be pink sweetheart roses for Annie, and a mixture of exotic lilies, orchids, and other rare white flowers for Julia," Christian spoke up, and Sean was grateful he'd jumped in.

"Oh, just a moment," Erica said, holding up a forestalling hand. "The porn star is doing the flowers?"

"No, the florist is doing the flowers. Kimber had some good ideas, and regardless of what you think of her personally, she has good taste when it comes to decorating and amenities," Christian said. "I think it's obvious Sean isn't up to doing all this alone, and I thought a woman's touch on the flowers was a good idea."

"The flowers are handled, Erica," Sean said. "And I'm grateful for the help."

"I thought I might perhaps have some say in the arrangements for my daughter and granddaughter," she retorted.

"We thought your grief might make it difficult for you to plan an event," Christian retorted, and the implication wasn't lost on Erica.

"My grief is my business. I do care what kind of memorial tribute is done for Julia and Annie. Obviously, you're happy to push the jobs off on whomever will take them."

"That's not fair and you know it," Sean said. "We're all dealing with an enormous loss, and having friends come forward to help is a blessing."

"Fine, the flowers are handled. What about the music?"

"Liz offered to find us someone, but I told her you might want to handle some of the arrangements personally. If you want her to do it, I'll give her a call," Sean said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He looked at the clock. It was almost time to go pick up Annie at school. Conor cried then, and for a moment, Sean sat there, confused. Annie wasn't at school. She was dead. And it was Marlowe's day off. Such a mundane fact in the middle of such atrocity.

"I'll get him," Christian offered, but Sean shook his head.

"It's okay. I'll go. You guys figure out the details. I'm sure whatever you pick out will be fine," he added, heading to the nursery.

"He washed his hands of that neatly," Erica commented sourly, looking over the checklist she'd made on a page of her thick, leather-bound planner.

"That's not fair and you know it. It's obvious to anyone that he's barely hanging on right now."

"Well, at least he's alive. That's more than I can say for my daughter and granddaughter. They paid the price for whatever he did that angered someone enough to want to not only kill him, but completely erase him from existence."

"Even if that's true, it's not Sean's fault."

"He wasn't in the car, and they were. I hope your little affair together is worth it, because it most likely cost Julia and Annie their lives, if that woman you were sleeping with is behind this."

"Your logic is seriously warped, Erica. You can't blame the fact Sean and I are a couple, or Sean for trying to do Julia a favor. It's not like having a bomb in your car is something you expect on a regular basis."

"What are the police doing to solve this case? I'd like to talk to the detective in charge."

"Be my guest," Christian said, pulling Fishman's card out of his wallet and tossing it across the table at Erica. Part of him pitied the cop for having to field those questions. "He's a good man. He was on the Carver case."

"He didn't solve that one, either, did he?" she observed with a slight grimace.

"He was reassigned."

"Because he didn't solve the case."

"Right, and then they put the Carver's sister in charge of the investigation, so the smart money would have been on Fishman."

"I'll take care of the music and the catering, unless you have another fading porn star who knows her way around the kitchen?"

"We're having the dinner at the Country Club, but we haven't made menu arrangements yet."

"Fine, I'll handle it," she said, making a note. "Invitations?"

"It's a memorial service, not a wedding reception," Christian replied.

"Since it didn't occur immediately like a regular funeral, it would be wise to let friends and family know when it's taking place, as well as the times and places for the service and the dinner. Not to mention the fact this is going to be an international media event."

"Not if we can help it. If I see one camera in that place, whoever's carrying it is going to need emergency rectal surgery to remove it. I hired a security firm to keep the media off the premises during the ceremony at Annie's school and the memorial service. I doubt people are going to have trouble finding out when it is - - the problem is keeping the ghouls outside."

"We have time to send out a small, tasteful card to a modest guest list." Another box was checked on the list.

"Your daughter is dead," Christian said. "Sean is so destroyed over the death of his daughter that he doesn't sleep, barely eats, and walks around like a zombie. I've seen wedding planners less matter-of-fact than you are."

"How dare you," Erica said, her tone low and menacing. "Just because I don't choose to throw myself about the house sobbing convulsively doesn't mean I'm not grieving for my daughter, or for Annie. Someone has to care enough about their memory to plan a fitting tribute. I won't have them exit this world surrounded by a couple cheap bouquets of flowers and a tacky pot luck for ten or twelve people."

"I have a news bulletin for you, Erica. They already exited this world, and all this...this...pomp and circumstance is your showcase and...photo op, not theirs," Christian responded, his ire growing.

"All right, you two, enough," Sean said, rejoining them.

"Conor okay?" Christian asked.

"He's asleep again. He knows something's wrong...he misses Julia." Sean sighed. "I want Julia and Annie to have a nice service. Erica, you and I don't always see eye to eye on things, but your taste is impeccable, and I'm sure Julia would be pleased to have you handle any of the arrangements as you see fit. Just tell us what we need to do to help. Kimber was kind enough to work with the florist for us, so whatever she's set up, we'll let that stand. I think we're all grieving and there's no point in us turning that on each other."

"That's very magnanimous of you, Sean. As much as it would console me to spend time with my daughter's widower and his new lover, I think I'll go back to my hotel and make some phone calls." She gathered her things and stood. "I'm having lunch with Matt. Someone has to straighten out that poor, misguided boy. There must be some other woman in town one of the three of you can sleep with besides Kimber Henry."

"McNamara," Sean spoke up. At Erica's stunned expression, Sean nodded. "Matt married Kimber recently. He didn't tell you?"

"Dear God, no," she replied.

"Guess what else?" Christian said, and Sean just shook his head, knowing that Christian had probably waited like a panther in tall grass for a moment like this. "You're going to be a great grandmother. To the porn star's baby," he added.

"How Julia survived this family as long as she did is a miracle," Erica stated, putting on her sunglasses and striding out the kitchen door, slamming it behind her.

"The great-grandmother remark was a low blow," Sean said, smiling a little.

"Thank you for giving me that opening," he said, leaning over and kissing Sean on the mouth. It was meant to be a simple gesture of affection, but Sean moved closer, deepening the kiss and prolonging it. They hadn't made love since the night before the explosion, and Christian had left it to Sean to make any physical move. Christian thought making love would be a healing thing, a way to be closer, but he didn't want to push Sean at a time when he was so shattered emotionally.

"It's Marlowe's day off and Conor's asleep," Sean said, resting his forehead against Christian's. "Maybe it's too soon," he said, the uncertainty plain in his voice.

"Maybe it isn't," Christian urged gently, initiating another kiss, sliding his hand under the t-shirt Sean wore under blue shirt he'd left hanging open and untucked. His fingers found and rubbed over a nipple that hardened instantly at his touch.

"Let's move this to the bedroom," Sean suggested, pulling back and standing up. Christian followed closely, almost afraid that the act of getting up and walking around would break the spell, and Sean would decide he wasn't ready, or that it was wrong somehow for them to do this when they should be miserable. That it was wrong to break free of the non-stop depression and pain for a little ray of hope.

Christian's fears were assuaged in short order when they reached the bed. Sean pushed him back on the mattress and fell with him, on top of him, a hunger and demand in his kisses that Christian hadn't felt from him before. They rolled together on the bed, kissing and groping, struggling with ornery buttons and zippers and not caring if they caused destruction to the garments in forcing them to surrender.

Once they were skin on skin, Sean seemed to relax into the lovemaking, some of the urgency gone. He never stopped kissing Christian as his hand slid down to wrap around Christian's hardening cock, stroking it. Christian couldn't remember when he'd ever settled for a hand job so he could keep on kissing someone, but that's what he was doing.

He knew Sean would probably go along with it if he wanted to be inside him, and while he wanted that, the closeness and intimacy of the kissing and full body contact was too sweet to give up. He mirrored Sean's pumping action, stroking Sean until he was hard, reaching down to fondle Sean's balls, sliding his tongue into the depths of Sean's mouth. Part of him wanted more, and somehow, he felt guilty asking that of Sean, especially now. Taking that from him and not giving it back to him in return.

"There's KY and condoms in my bag," he said, as if he'd read Christian's mind. "I'll wait," he quipped.

"Sean, I can't keep doing this," Christian blurted. A look of horror crossed Sean's face. "Oh, God, no, I don't mean this, with us... I mean, you're always giving me what I need and I don't give it back to you."

"I've just been screaming and coming all over you to be polite," Sean replied, sighing. "You think I'm lying here like some Victorian bride, nobly giving you what you want and not getting anything out of it? You think I'd just roll over and take it up the ass if there was nothing in it for me?"

"I think you'd do anything for me, and I feel like I'm taking advantage of that. Especially now, it feels like I should be doing something more for you."

"Don't make this about what's happened." Sean sat up and moved away a little, his erection faltering a bit. "I guess this was a bad idea after all."

"I'm sorry. It's my fault. I'm screwing it up."

They both sat on the bed, quiet for a few moments.

"I love you," Sean said softly. "I want to be in you sometime, but I don't care when it happens... and if it doesn't happen, that doesn't change how I feel about you. I want to be with you, not your asshole." He paused. "Losing Julia and Annie this way, seeing how a life like Annie's, just getting started, can end in a heartbeat...the details don't matter. They never really did, but they really don't now."

"I love you, too. I have a confession to make."

"What?"

"I love your asshole, too," he said. He smiled when Sean burst out laughing. Just hearing Sean laugh, seeing a real smile on his face, was worth everything, even if they didn't finish what they started.

"I know there are some...things you need to work through before you want to be on the receiving end of things, and that's okay. I'm not timing you."

"I want us to be...whole, you know? I want to want that, but I don't. I do, but I don't."

"You want to share that with me but you don't want to feel something stuck up your ass?" Sean asked, his tone gentler than the words themselves. They hit home with Christian, because they were so damned perceptive and too much what he was feeling to believe they'd come out of someone else's mouth. "Hey, it's okay," Sean said, seeing the emotion in Christian's expression. "I'm not doing anything I don't want to do, and I don't want to be inside you until you really want it to happen. I can honestly say it would kill me to know I was reminding you of something awful, or hurting you just to get my rocks off."

"I guess all that sappy stuff they say about love is true. You really do know it when you find the right one," Christian said, pulling Sean into his arms. They started kissing again, and it wasn't long before the fires that had cooled were growing hotter. Christian broke away long enough to grab a couple items from the bag, and then was back on the bed, kneeling between Sean's legs. "You want to turn over?" he asked.

"No. I want to see you." Sean drew his knees up and Christian ignored his supplies to kiss the underside of Sean's thigh, moving down low, close to his balls, licking at them and then sucking one into his mouth. Sean gasped at the stimulation, grabbing the sheets with both hands. Spurred by that display, Christian treated the second oval to the same attention before sucking on the tender skin of Sean's perineum. Sean turned his head into the pillow and muffled a loud groan of pleasure.

Christian coated his finger with the gel and worked it into the tight opening, lubricating and stretching, probing for the little nob inside. He didn't want to spend too much time there since Sean was already hard, but he couldn't resist that first shock wave that went through Sean's body when Christian fingered his prostate. He wasn't disappointed as Sean arched up, gasping, his erection seeming to grow just a little more at the intense stimulation.

Rolling on the condom and coating himself with the gel, Christian pressed the head of his cock against Sean's body, then pushed inside, moving past the initial barrier, watching Sean's expression as he was filled slowly but steadily. There were those first few signs of strain, as Sean's body stretched to accommodate him, and Christian reached up to rub and pinch at Sean's nipples to distract him from any discomfort. Sean pulled him down for a kiss just before Christian began moving, pumping in and out.

He loved Sean with every fiber of his being, but the physical sensations were just as incredible. There was nothing like the pressure on his cock as it slid in and out of a passage almost too tight for it. He started slowly, but soon, both wanted the cadence and depth of real thrusting, and Christian began pumping in earnest, torn between wanting a harder, faster pace and wanting to hold Sean closer. He wanted to make love to him and fuck him into the mattress at the same time. When Sean reached for him, the choice was clear and easy. Christian wrapped his arms around Sean and pulled him up, sitting back on his heels with Sean's legs around his hips, moving together. Sean's heart was pounding against his, the heat and dampness between them making them feel fused into one being.

"I love you," Christian breathed into Sean's ear, feeling like he had to say it right then. Suddenly the preciousness of his lover swept over him, along with the thought of how he'd almost lost him a second time in just weeks. If not for a couple strange accidents of fate, Sean wouldn't be alive in his arms, his body moving and responding to him. He'd never feel that hot passage squeezing him like nothing else could, never hear Sean's cries of pleasure, or watch his face flush, or hear him mumble a sleepy "I love you" when he was too sated and exhausted to stay awake any longer.

The pace of their sex slowed a little, and Christian found he didn't mind prolonging it a bit more. Sean was kissing his mouth, his chin, his neck, hands caressing his back, his sides, every part of Christian he could touch. Christian stroked Sean's back, slid his hand into Sean's hair, buried his face in Sean's neck and breathed in his scent, as if he could absorb this moment of perfect closeness into his very pores and keep it there forever.

They began rocking a little faster, both their bodies restless for satisfaction. He thrust upward harder, rubbing over Sean's prostate, making him writhe and moan with each move. Christian found himself gasping and crying out and then coming, feeling the wetness of Sean's orgasm against his belly. When it was over, they stayed in that position a few minutes, limp and satisfied.

Sean moved gingerly, Christian's cock slipping free of his body. He stretched out on the bed, and Christian lay next to him, leaning up on one elbow. He stroked Sean's cheek with the backs of his fingers, then leaned in for a kiss.

"Thanks," Sean said quietly, taking Christian's hand.

"I should be thanking you."

"You made me feel like there was some reason I still wanted to keep going. You're what's kept me going the last few days, but for the first time today, I felt some hope that things will be okay. Not right now, but...eventually. That maybe I could even feel happy again someday."

"You will. I'll make sure of that."

********

Sean wasn't sure how long they'd slept, but he knew he needed to check on Conor. He had a nursery monitor by the bed, so the baby's crying would have disturbed him. He looked at the clock, relieved they'd only been asleep about an hour. He felt lethargic and exhausted, his body sleep deprived and worn out from grieving, and now worn out in a good way from intense lovemaking. In any event, he longed to just stay there next to Christian's warm body and rest.

"I'll check on Conor. Go back to sleep, sweetheart." Christian kissed him on the forehead and got up before he could protest. The bed felt cold and empty without him, and the crushing press of the depression was back. His lower back was tired, and he felt guilty for having felt so good for even a little while. The heat of sex had worn off, and now he felt chilly again, that coldness that comes with grief and seems to linger beyond all logical physical causes.

"He's still sleeping," Christian said, lying down with Sean again, throwing a light blanket over both of them. "Try to rest, Sean. You're exhausted. I'll get him up to eat in a little while."

Sean didn't respond to that, but scooted into Christian's arms, holding on tightly. Christian squeezed him gently and kissed his cheek.

********

When Christian got up the next time, Sean was still sleeping soundly for the first time in days. He carefully covered him, grabbed his clothes and slipped out of the room. He took a shower in the master bathroom to avoid waking Sean in the guest room. When he came out of the shower, he shivered, feeling a cold draft that seemed to come from the bedroom. Frowning, he looked out the bathroom door into the bedroom beyond it, but saw nothing. He dressed, then went to check the thermostat, which read a moderate 72 degrees. Shrugging it off as a chill felt by his cooling body after all that body heat and a warm shower, he went to the nursery to check on Conor and get him up for dinner.

He approached the crib, and found the baby awake, kicking and happy. Smiling and shaking his head at the joyful display in the middle of such somber sadness in the household, he picked Conor up and carried him to the changing table, since it was obvious he was ready for a fresh diaper. After taking care of that, he took his godson to the kitchen and got him situated in his high chair for dinner. There was a knock at the kitchen door. Matt stood on the other side of it.

"Didn't expect to see you here anytime soon," Christian said, opening the door and stepping aside while Matt entered.

"It's a circus out there. There were about twenty people chasing my car like dogs in the street until I turned into the driveway. Then some giant stopped me for my ID."

"I hired security for the house. I don't want some asshole crawling into our shrubs and peeking in our windows with cameras."

"I know I said some stupid things the other day," Matt said.

"Stupid? You practically accused Sean of having something to do with killing Julia and Annie. That's not stupid, it's ridiculous and unbelievably cruel."

"So Dad's still pissed off at me?"

"Keep your voice down. He's sleeping soundly for the first time since it happened. No, he's not pissed off, just hurt as hell." Christian started gathering the supplies for Conor's meal.

"It was such a shock. I don't think it's sunk in yet. They were fine one minute and the next minute, just...gone."

"It's been a nightmare for all of us. I know this isn't easy for you, Matty, but this time, you can't take it all out on your father. He can't handle much more right now."

"I'm not trying to take it out on him. I know I owe him an apology."

"You want anything to eat?" Christian offered.

"I had lunch with Grandma. I'm not really hungry."

"How did that go?"

"She was raving about how awful it was that I was married to Kimber and that I needed to get out of that mess right away, and she even supplied me with the name of a good divorce lawyer she knows."

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I actually agree with Erica."

"I know you guys don't approve of me and Kimber, but your relationship isn't exactly conventional, either, and you want me to accept that."

"There's a big difference in not accepting something and not approving of it. We love you, kiddo. We might not agree with your choices, but we're not going to banish you from our lives over it. Or Kimber. I can't say it isn't weird in ways I can't begin to describe to have her pregnant with my grandchild and sleeping with my son, but it's what you want, so that's the end of that."

"Is it just me or is it cold in here?"

"I thought it was just me. The thermostat says it's 72. Maybe there's something wrong with it." A male scream from the guest room took them both by surprise. "Stay with Conor," Christian said, rushing toward the guest room while Matt tried to console and distract the baby, who was starting to cry from the noise and commotion.

Christian rushed into the guest room to find Sean sitting up in bed, chest heaving with labored breathing, staring straight ahead as if he were intensely focused on something.

"Sean, I'm here, look at me," Christian said, sitting on the side of the bed, taking a hold of Sean's shoulders.

"She was burned...her hair was charred...she was so angry..."

"You were dreaming," Christian said gently, relieved that Sean finally looked at him, his eyes a little less wild than they'd been when he first came into the room. "Breathe, nice and deep," he coached, and Sean did his best to get his ragged breathing back on an even keel. "Do you want to tell me about it?"

"I saw Julia. She was right there at the foot of the bed. I swear to God, Christian, she was there."

"You know it was a nightmare, right?" Christian asked, moving closer, rubbing Sean's back. The soothing motion seemed to calm him more, and he nodded.

"I know it had to be, but she looked so angry, and part of her face was burned...her hands were burned, almost black," Sean managed before his voice broke to badly to go on.

"It was just a nightmare." Christian pulled Sean into his arms. "You feel responsible because you let her borrow the car, and that's why your mind made that up," he said, bringing the blanket up around Sean's bare back when he felt him shivering. The room seemed colder than usual.

"She looked like she wanted me dead."

"Julia would want you to be alive to care for Conor, to be here for Matt, to live your life. She wouldn't wish that on you."

"She might if she thought I killed her," Sean said quietly against Christian's shoulder, as if he were afraid someone else might overhear it.

"You didn't do anything wrong, Sean. You do know this was just a dream?"

"What if it wasn't?" Sean asked, moving away a little so he could look at Christian.

"Then it was a hallucination brought on by exhaustion, grief, and trauma."

"I know you're right."

"It's okay to be upset about this. It was a bad nightmare."

"Maybe I'm losing my mind."

"No, you're not. You're tired and grieving and feeling guilty because you're alive and they're not."

"I do feel guilty. I sent them to their deaths," Sean said miserably.

"No, you didn't, Dad," Matt's voice came from the doorway of the room. He was carrying Conor with him, and sat on the edge of the empty side of the bed. The baby seemed content now as he sat on his older brother's lap, fidgeting with a toy. "I'm sorry I was such an asshole to you. What happened to Mom and Annie...it's not your fault."

"That means a lot coming from you," Sean said, pulling the blanket around himself.

"Kimber and I could take Conor for a couple days if that would help. Give Kimber a chance to practice before the baby comes."

"Thanks, but Sean kept Marlowe on. This is just his day off," Christian explained.

"I didn't think you'd want him around once Mom was gone," Matt said.

"I don't particularly, but it's not about what I want, it's about what's best for Conor, and he's had too much upheaval in his life already. He might not be able to talk, but he misses his mother, and I don't want to take another significant caregiver away from him right now."

"How about you? Have you eaten anything in the last four days?" Matt asked, seeming to really notice for the first time how pale and haggard Sean looked.

"Conor eats more," Christian chided gently, patting Sean's shoulder to take any sting out of the words.

"Come back home with me and have dinner at our place. Kimber's a great cook, and she'd be glad to make us dinner."

"I don't want to put her out," Sean said.

"Dad, we're family, and we ought to be together to get through this. I know you're not happy about our marriage, but we need to put that shit aside now. Let us help you."

"I think we should go," Christian agreed. "The change of scenery will do you good and some food would do you even better. I can vouch for Kimber's cooking. She knows her way around the kitchen."

"Okay, you don't need to gang up on me," Sean said with a little smile. "Give me some time to take a shower and change and we'll go." 

******** 

Kimber welcomed Sean and Christian like a picture perfect hostess. Matt had called ahead to let her know they were coming, and the scent of food was already in the air when they arrived. The tragedy the family was enduring seemed to bring out the kindness and compassion in Kimber, and she'd not only gladly helped with the memorial service arrangements, but now as warmly welcoming Sean and Christian into Matt's and her home.

"I hope we aren’t putting you out," Sean said as they walked into the apartment.

"It's the least we can do," she said, smiling. "Sean, I’m running a little behind with the dinner - - you always have made a great salad. Could you give me a hand?"

"As long as it's just salad. I still haven't mastered much else."

"His lasagna's improving, though," Christian said, smiling at Sean.

While Matt and Christian sat in the living room, Sean went with Kimber to the kitchen to work on the salad. After washing his hands, he started chopping lettuce and other vegetables Kimber had out on the counter.

"How are you feeling these days?" Sean asked.

"A little better now," Kimber said, smiling. "Thank you for asking."

"The first couple months are usually the worst for morning sickness. Julia started to feel better in her third month, when she was pregnant with Annie."

"I know that you and Christian aren’t thrilled about my marriage to Matt, but I am trying to make this work."

"I want Matt to be happy. If you two can make it together, then I’ll be glad for both of you. I know you have it in you to make someone really happy."

"That’s nice of you to say, Sean. You know, I have some nice memories of our time together."

"We had some fun," Sean admitted, smiling a bit.

"I have a confession to make," Kimber said, returning the smile. "I bribed Annie to tell you she thought I’d make a good mother."

“I knew about that.”

"You did? How?" she asked, looking surprised.

"She told me. I should have been flattered - - after all, you did invest forty bucks to get me thinking marriage."

"Oh, no, and I thought it was a girls' secret between Annie and me all this time," she replied, shaking her head.

"Annie and I always had a lot of openness between us. She almost always told me the truth."

"She trusted you because she knew how much you loved her."

"I miss her so much already," Sean said, pausing his salad making. "I don’t know how to deal with the fact she's never coming back. I’m sorry," he said, walking away from the salad ingredients, leaning on a counter with his back to Kimber.

"It’s okay, Sean. I can’t even imagine how hard this is for you," she said, resting her hand on Sean’s back. He turned toward her and accepted a brief hug, then stepped back. "I really do need help with that salad," she said, and he laughed a little.

"I'll get back to work. Thanks," he said, touching her shoulder.

In the living room, Matt and Christian sat together, the heavy burden of tragedy keeping their usual banter at bay. They traded a little small talk about how Kimber’s pregnancy was going, but Christian found himself restless, wondering how Sean was doing.

"What have the cops come up with? I’ve tried calling Fishman, but I either don't get him on the phone, or I get double talk. I learn more on the news networks than I do from him."

"I know. I've called him myself, so has Sean. It's only been a few days, but I keep hoping they'll find something...be ready to make an arrest. And don't bring up the news networks to Sean. He knows they're dogging us, but he hasn't been watching the coverage. They keep replaying footage of the fire right after the explosion."

"Who would have a reason to want him dead? And why do something like blow up a car? Why not just use a gun or a knife? It's sensational...like something that Escobar character would try."

"Yeah, I have to admit that might be his style, but he always liked Sean in a twisted sort of way, and he's got no real reason to want him dead, not after we fixed his face for him."

"What about Michelle Landau? Could she want to derail your negotiations badly enough to do something like this?"

"I gave her name to Fishman to check into it. It seems unbelievable that anybody would go to this length, do it this way. Michelle might be angry, but it's hard for me to believe she'd do something like this."

"What about a former patient? Is there anybody crazy enough or unhappy enough to do it? This doesn’t make any sense, Christian. It's so over the top, like overkill, that whoever did it had to really hate Dad to want him blown away like that."

"Let’s not talk about this anymore tonight. I want this to be a break for Sean. The stress is taking its toll on him."

"Right, I won't say anything else in front of him."

"Whoever it is, we're going to find out. If Fishman doesn't figure it out pretty soon, we'll hire a private investigator, whatever it takes. For now, we need to get through this as a family."

"I can’t believe Dad's not screaming for vengeance. He's never been one to sit back and let someone else handle it if there's a threat to his family."

"He's not sitting back, Matty. He's destroyed. Something died in him when that car exploded, and it hasn't come back yet. I don't know if it ever will. It's like a light went out. I know he'll get stronger and bounce back and go on, but it's going to take time, and whether or not he'll ever be the same, I don't know.”

"After the memorial service, we need to go see Fishman, even if Dad's not up to it. We need to keep on him, so he knows we're not going to rest until he figures this out."

"We will. We’re not just sitting back and letting this go."

"Dinner’s almost ready," Kimber announced, walking into the room, Sean behind her. "The wine and salad are served."

The four of them sat around the table, and did manage to eat some of the food, though no one's appetite was at its best. Sean picked at the salad, and had a couple bites of the main course, but didn't put away the meal Christian had hoped he would. By mid evening, Christian, Sean and Conor headed back home, though neither man really looked forward to going back to the dark house full of its memories, or ducking the ever-present reporters lurking just beyond their property line.

Once they arrived home, Sean took Conor into the nursery to get him ready for bed while Christian sorted through some piled up mail and listened to the answering machine messages.

"He's out like a light," Sean said, joining Christian in the kitchen. "You think maybe there's a chance Matt and Kimber might make a go of that marriage?"

"I don't know," Christian said, sighing. "Kimber's got a good side to her, but she's also got a seriously twisted side. I'd feel a hell of a lot better if they weren't dabbling in some crackpot religion. Hey, you want to turn in and get some rest?"

"No. I can't sleep, but if you're tired, I can just stay up for a while and watch some TV."

"I’m fine. I’d rather be with you," Christian added, ruffling the back of Sean's hair gently.

"Oh, God," Sean said, picking up a large pink envelope off the counter.

"I was going to get rid of that," Christian said.

"It's from cousins of Julia's...I didn't even think to notify them personally," Sean said, opening the birthday card that had come for Annie. "You’re a teenager now," he read off the card.

"They must have sent it before the news broke." Christian paused. "Sean, don't do this to yourself. I'll call them and let them know."

"Today is her birthday," Sean said, his voice strained. "I forgot until now."

"With all that's happened, it's not funny the days are running together."

"Annie, my little princess," Sean said, his body shaking, tears rolling down his cheeks. "She always thought I could protect her. Whenever she was afraid, I could make it right. She trusted me and I put her in that car - -"

"It's not your fault," Christian said, putting his arm around Sean, who readily wrapped his arms around Christian and held on tightly. "You couldn't have known, Sean. It wasn't your fault. You would have done anything to protect Annie."                        

"When it mattered, I couldn't save her. I sent her to her death."

"Damn it, Sean, you didn't send her to her death. You didn't know." Christian rested his head against Sean's, stroking his back. "You're a good father. You did your best. No one could have known there was any danger."

"God, it hurts so bad, Christian. I can't stand it. I just want to die so it'll stop."

"Don't say that!" Christian shook Sean gently. "Don't ever say that. I love you, and I don't want to live without you. It'll get better, I promise."

"Promise?" Sean asked, and the love and trust in that word broke his heart. As overwhelming as Sean's grief was, a word from Christian could make it better, maybe make it hurt a little bit less.

"I promise, sweetheart. It'll always hurt, but it won't hurt this much forever. I promise it'll get better, and we'll get through it, and we'll have some happy times in our lives. Think about Conor. We'll raise him together, and we'll be here for Matt when Kimber screws him over," he added.

"I guess that answers my question from earlier," Sean said brokenly, trying to pull himself together. "How am I going to sit through that memorial service and listen to people talking about them, and keep it together? I dread it. I know I shouldn't, but I do."

"Nobody expects you to keep it together. Everyone's going to be grieving, trying to come to terms with all this. I'll be right by your side."

"I'm sorry." Sean pulled back and leaned on the counter.

"Hey, you have nothing to apologize for." Christian grabbed a couple kleenex and handed them to Sean, who blew his nose and wiped his face. "But it will get better."

"Fishman hasn't called. He promised he'd call when he had something."

"We'll call him tomorrow, see if he has any news."

"I owe it to them to stay on him and make sure he finds out who did this and makes them pay."

"We will. I know we can't bring them back, but it's going to be okay, Sean. We'll find out who did this, and we'll figure out a way to go on with our lives. You and me."

********

Sean shivered and pulled the covers up around his neck. He knew he'd been feeling the cold more lately, but it felt as if someone had turned the air conditioning to about fifty degrees. Even his fingertips felt cold, as if he'd had them in cold water. He reached for Christian, but the flesh he felt was cold. Dead. Terrified at what the sensation implied, he jolted up on one elbow and looked straight into Julia's fire-ravaged face and expressionless, dead eyes.

He jumped out of the bed and backed away, unable to look away from the awful sight, but unable to remain near it. She rose until she was standing on the bed, and then stepped off the side of it, as if the distance to the floor was nothing.

"What do you want from me?" Sean pleaded with the apparition as it moved slowly toward him. "Jules, I'm sorry. I didn't know!" He looked around frantically until he saw a small statue on the dresser that fit easily into his hand. He picked it up and threw it at the figure advancing toward him. It either didn't hit her or went through her, because she didn't even flinch. He felt the wall behind him, unyielding, keeping him right where this horrible ghost-Julia obviously wanted him. He slid down the wall, trying to disappear into the corner, covering his head with both arms.

Hands were on him, touching him, almost tentatively. They weren't cold, and there was no anger or vengeance in them. He'd expected the ghost to tear him limb from limb, or at least inflict some kind of revenge on him. These hands were warm, connected to arms that came around him, pulling him against more warm flesh and a beating heart. It was a body that was like home to him, like every safe, secure feeling encased in human flesh. He moved his arms, carefully at first, afraid this was some kind of trick his senses were playing on him. Finally, he raised his head and his eyes confirmed that Christian was there on the floor with him, clad only in his underwear, very carefully holding Sean's body against his.

"Sean?" he asked quietly, and Sean realized Christian must have thought he was sleepwalking.

"I'm awake," he said, blinking.

"Shit, Sean, you're shaking like crazy. What happened?"

"Where were you?" Sean asked, his voice sounding more desperate and borderline accusatory than he expected.

"I got up to go to the john and it felt cold, so I went to see what we had the air set on, and the next thing I knew, I heard talking and then a crash - - I'm guessing it was that broken statue over there." Christian rubbed Sean's back gently. "You feel like you've been in a refrigerator," he said, standing and giving Sean a hand to pull him up.

"I saw Julia. She was in bed with me, where I thought you were. I reached out to touch you and it was her."

"It was just a nightmare," Christian reassured, leading him back toward the bed.

"I'm not getting in that bed."

"There's nothing here," Christian said. "Nothing but sheets," he added, moving the bedding around.

"It wasn't a dream. It was too real."

"Sean, you and I both know that Julia's dead. She can't be here, wandering around the house."

"I'm not crazy!" Sean protested.

"Hey, when did I say you were crazy?" Christian asked, keeping his tone calmer than Sean's.

"You didn't, but if she wasn't really here, then I am," he said, sitting on the foot of the bed. "I was afraid for my life, Christian. I thought she was going to...I don't know, do something awful to me. Take me back with her. Something."

"I'm no shrink, but it's pretty easy to figure this out." Christian put Sean's robe around him, then sat next to him and took one of Sean's hands in both of his. "You feel guilty about her death, so you're punishing yourself with this horrific 'vengeful Julia' nightmare, because you think you deserve some kind of retribution, or, God forbid, to be dead yourself because she is instead of you."

"It all sounds good but it doesn't change what I saw."

"Your hands are like ice," Christian said, frowning, letting go of the hand he'd been holding to try to warm up the other one as well.

"I was so cold when I woke up. You said you went to check the thermostat."

"Yeah, it felt cold when I got up, so I went out to check on it. Look, Sean, I got up and moved around, that probably disturbed your sleep, and you had a nightmare. I know it was awful, but that's all it was."

"I can't sleep in here. I don't want to sleep at all because I know if I do, I'm going to see her."

"Let's bundle Conor up and go back to my place."

"I don't want to get him out of bed in the middle of the night and haul him across town, not to mention the camera flashes going off while the handful of reporters on the night shift out there chase us down the road. Besides, if I'm losing my mind, I'll probably lose it at your place, too."

"You're not losing your mind. You're not eating, you're not sleeping, and you're grieving. You're beating yourself up because you lived and Julia and Annie didn't. Your mind is starting to play with that in some ugly ways. Plus, there are a lot of memories here. I think maybe we pushed you a little fast into coming here and staying. We could have set something up for Conor at my place, or rented a different place, I don't know. We don't have to be here."

"I have to decide what to do with the house, and I have to face this sooner or later. Putting it off isn't going to make it easier."

"You just need some rest - - "

"Don't even think about sedating me." Sean rested his face in both hands, elbows on his knees.

"I wasn't thinking of that," Christian replied, patting Sean's back. "Warming up a little?"

"It was cold when she was here. Her skin was cold, like death. I reached out to touch you and I thought you were dead," Sean admitted in a strained voice.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here when you needed me," Christian said.

"It's not your fault you had to go to the bathroom. If I'm so bad off you can't use the john without me going nuts and seeing things then you better put me away."

"Put your robe on and we'll go out to the living room and sleep on the couch together. I'll grab a blanket."

"You're not going to try to talk me into going back to bed?"

"If I dreamed I woke up next to a corpse, I wouldn't want to get back in bed either. Come on."

Sean stood and pulled on his robe while Christian did the same, and made his way to the couch on legs that still felt shaky. The two of them settled in there, feet on the coffee table, shared blanket, and Christian turned on the television. The familiar glow and drone of an old TV show rerun made the house seem less foreboding. Sean let his head rest against Christian's chest, and drew solace from the warmth there.

"I love you," Christian said, kissing his forehead.

"Me, too," Sean replied, letting his tired eyes drift shut.

"I'll be right here, sweetheart. Get some good sleep."

********

Sean couldn't help feeling that the memorial service at Annie's school was a sort of dress rehearsal for the joint memorial service for Julia and Annie planned for the following Monday. The remains had been released to the funeral home later than Fishman had estimated, and cremation had taken place.

Cremation. They were so badly burned there was nothing he could see, nothing he could identify as his wife or daughter. When he'd authorized the cremation, he'd felt as if he were somehow subjecting them to another burning. Burning burned remains. When they got back from the funeral home, he'd gone to the bathroom and vomited whatever was still in his mostly empty stomach from the breakfast Christian had finally coaxed him into eating. He was a doctor, he knew he was playing Russian Roulette with his body, depriving it of sleep and food, coping with monumental stress while running himself down to a condition of low immunity and marginal strength. Still, food made him sick and the thought of his daughter's death made him sicker. He grieved for Julia, missed her...but the pain of losing Annie made him feel as if someone had stuck their fist inside him and ripped out all the vital organs, leaving him open and bleeding. As if he'd been put through major surgery and left with his incision gaping open to heal without the benefit of stitches.

He feared the nearly obsessive attachment he was forming with Christian. Even now, he felt uneasy because Christian had taken Conor into a part of the garden safe from press scrutiny while he got ready to go to Annie's school. Part of it was the nightmares. Those horrible, all-too-real visions of a vengeful, charred, dead Julia coming back to exact retribution for what he'd done to her. He knew Christian had to be right - - he was finding a way to punish himself for the explosion, as well as the affair with Monica that he hadn't confessed to Julia before she died.

He'd seen a dead and bloody Monica sitting at the dinner table one night. He'd seen Escobar when he wasn't really there. Shit, maybe I am crazy, Sean thought as he tightened the knot on his tie with slightly shaky hands. He really didn't feel well; he was dizzy and his head felt like it belonged to someone else and had just been set there on his shoulders. He'd managed to hide the fact from Christian that he'd thrown up the breakfast Christian was so proud of getting him to eat before going to the funeral home to sign the papers and finalize everything.

There wasn't much contrast between the crisp white shirt he wore under the dark suit and his pallid complexion. He was beginning to resemble a walking corpse himself. Walking corpses... Don't go there, he told himself, not wanting to conjure the memory of the nightmare that had him curled in a fetal position against the wall the night before.

"You don't look so good, my friend," a familiar voice said from behind him. He spun around to see Escobar sitting on the bed.

"Oh my God, please," Sean mumbled, covering his face, willing this hallucination to go away. His whole body was shaking, and he just wanted Christian to come back inside and make it stop. He really was losing his mind.

"Sean, get a hold of yourself, I'm not here to cause you trouble," Escobar said, and Sean felt real hands on his shoulders. "You gave me my face back and you saved my life from that psycho prison bitch with the scalpel. Why would I cause you problems?"

Sean didn't know which was the lesser of the evils. Knowing Escobar was real and not a hallucination, or accepting he was stark raving batshit crazy but taking comfort in the fact Escobar was an illusion. He finally took his hands away from his face and looked straight into Escobar's recently repaired face. He still bore an unsettling resemblance to the lead character from Hellraiser, but he was healing, and eventually, he'd look like his old self again.

"I did what you asked of me. What do you want from me now?"

"I came to offer my assistance," he said, stepping away from Sean now that it was apparent he had accepted Escobar wasn't a figment of his imagination.

"I can't do this with you right now. My daughter..."

"I know what happened to your family, Sean. I can imagine what you feel. I'm a father, too, remember? Sylvio Perez violated my daughter, and I know what kind of pain and rage I felt when that happened. All the money and the power weren't worth shit because in the end, someone got to my baby and did that awful thing to her. Even killing him didn't really set it right...but it helped."

Sean found it bizarre that he actually took comfort in Escobar's words as a father. Nothing seemed worth anything because none of it saved Annie. He couldn't save Annie. Still, no matter how understanding Escobar could sound, you could never allow yourself to forget what he really was. Sean reminded himself of that, and tried to pull back the raw, open grief that made him cling to any comfort from any source. Grief that would make his mind soft in staying one step ahead of Escobar...or at least, keep him from getting himself into more trouble that he was already in, if that was possible.

"You threatened my family, so don't try to tell me you understand how I feel."

"I never harmed your family, and I wouldn't have. I don't kill children. All that mattered was that you thought I would do it. You can go far on that. Unfortunately, not everyone sees it the same way. In my world, targeting families happens way too often. It's most effective because it destroys your opponent without actually killing him. Don't let it destroy you, my friend."

"My daughter is in a jar. I can't even pick out a dress to bury her in because there was almost nothing left to bury."

"You have to tap into your fury, Sean. It will give you strength until you heal. I remember you coming to my house, all by yourself, nice, clean-cut suburban doctor busting into the drug lord's lair...because I came near your family. That man is still inside you, and he's not a whining pussy who lets the person who killed his family get away with it."

"You told me that if I fixed your face, you'd leave me alone. I kept my end of the deal."

"No one will know, Sean. If you're afraid of prison, don't be. I'm not a clumsy amateur you hired for five grand in a bar. I won't even have to resort to hams and alligators. But it will be taken care of." He pulled a plain card out of his pocket, and offered it to Sean with a gloved hand. "If you change your mind, call this number, and one of my associates will get in touch with me."

Sean looked at the plain white card with the phone number in simple black numbers. "I could give this to the police."

"And tell them what? There are no prints on it, and I assure you, it isn't traceable."

"I want them dead, and I want them to suffer first," Sean admitted, tears rolling down his cheeks. He balled the card up in his hand. "What the hell does that make me? It makes me like you and I won't do it," he concluded bitterly.

"Poor Dr. Sean, always torn between what he wants and what he thinks he should want," Escobar said, nodding knowingly. When Sean looked at him, he was surprised to see something that passed for compassion in the eyes of a man who'd spent most of his life as a ruthless killer. Sean was surprised when Escobar gave him a quick embrace before stepping back. "Be at peace, my friend," he concluded, patting Sean's shoulder before leaving the room.

Sean sank into a chair and took in a long breath, expelling it slowly. He didn't know what to make of Escobar's visit, or his ambiguous farewell. Sean looked at the crumpled card in his hand. He could call that number, tell whoever answered to tell Escobar to do nothing. To stay out of it. Or he could call to confirm that Escobar's people would be on this, hunting down the culprit and bringing him - - or her - - to their own brand of justice. Or he could leave things as they were and take solace in the fact he had refused to invoke Escobar's brand of help - - whatever happened, it would be neither to his fault nor to his credit. Could Escobar really be that wise, know him that well?

"Marlowe's here," Christian said, walking into the bedroom where Sean sat. "He's with Conor now, so we can go whenever you're ready." Christian waited a few seconds, and when Sean didn't look at him and didn't answer, he crouched in front of where Sean sat. "Hey, I know this is hard."

"It's not that," Sean said, resolving he wasn't going to taint his relationship with Christian by hiding something like this. "Escobar was here."

"What? When? I was outside in the garden with Conor. I didn't see anything. We have security here to keep the reporters off the property."

"No one ever sees him coming."

"What happened?"

"He offered to find out who killed Julia and Annie," Sean responded, handing Christian the card. "That's his contact number."

"What did you tell him?"

"That I wanted them to die, to suffer...but that I wasn't going to order it."

"Part of me wants to call this number and tell him to do his worst."

"I want with everything I am to kill the bastard who did this. Preferably slowly. Maybe he was right. Maybe I am just a whining pussy."

"I don't think Escobar Gallardo qualifies as a grief counselor. What the hell does he know about emotions? About coping with something like this? Shit, you have to love someone to grieve for them. I doubt that son of a bitch is capable of it." Christian straightened to stand and rubbed Sean's shoulder. "We should get going."

"What should I do?"

"Go to the memorial service at Annie's school. Grieve for your daughter. Hire a private investigator if you don't trust Fishman to do the job. But don't make a deal with the devil. Way back when, I did, for a briefcase full of cash, and look what it's put us through."

"I thought he was a figment of my imagination," Sean said, looking up at Christian. "I can't even tell the difference anymore."

"You're exhausted, Sean. Besides, why the hell would you expect Escobar to show up here, now?"

"I guess you're right," Sean agreed, nodding.

"After the service, let's come back here, change into something comfortable, and go have lunch on the beach. Just us."

"I can't hold anything down. I threw up breakfast." Sean stood up, trying not to let the fact he was dizzy be too obvious.

"I know," Christian said sympathetically, surprising Sean. "You think you got away with that, huh?" he teased gently. "I'll make us a puke-proof lunch, I promise." He smiled when Sean chuckled at that.

Sean, Christian, Matt, Kimber, Erica, and Liz attended the memorial service at Annie's school. The entire student body was gathered in an outdoor courtyard, a few of Annie's classmates and teachers serving as the principal participants. They had planted a new flowering tree, and at the base of it stood a small stone statue of an angel. "In memory of Anne Catherine McNamara" with the date, was engraved on a small plaque on a stand at the base of the tree. A crowd of reporters lurked on the perimeter of the school grounds, but the local police were on the scene, making sure they didn't go on school property.

Tori Epstein, one of Annie's long-time friends, read a poem she'd written. One of Annie's teachers read an essay Annie wrote describing what she'd learned about teamwork from being part of the soccer team, and her coach shared a few anecdotes about Annie, describing what a good team player she was. A small group of students from the school choir sang two songs.

There were very few dry eyes at the service, and while Sean appreciated the tribute to his daughter, it felt like poking an open wound with a sharp stick. He wondered if some day he'd actually visit the courtyard again to see how Annie's tree had grown. In some sense, it was nice to know that kids twenty years from now would wonder who Anne Catherine McNamara was, and why she had a tree named after her. Still, none of it had a soothing effect on the pain that never seemed to get any better.

After the service was over, Annie's English teacher approached Sean with a manilla folder. She was a heavy set, older woman with gray hair and glasses, with an almost grandmotherly appearance.

"I'm Mrs. Andrews, Annie's English teacher. I'm so sorry for your loss, Dr. McNamara," she said. "Mrs. McNamara was a lovely woman, and Annie was just a pure joy to have in class."

"She was a pure joy to me, too," Sean said, smiling. He was relieved the service was being held outdoors, that he could hide his wet red eyes behind the sunglasses. It made things easier to cope with somehow. "Thank you for saying so." He turned to Christian. "This is Annie's godfather, Christian Troy."

"It's a pleasure," Christian said, shaking hands with her.

"I finally get to meet Uncle Christian," she said, smiling brightly. "Annie mentioned you often."

"That's good to hear. She was more like a daughter to me than a goddaughter."

"Annie wrote an essay earlier this year. I thought it might be difficult for you to listen to it today, but you might like to read it when you feel ready," she said, handing it to Sean. "I asked the students to write an essay about a favorite childhood memory."

"Thank you," Sean said, taking the folder. "Annie was a good writer. I always thought she might make a career out of it someday," he said, glad his voice was holding up and that he could actually say something about his daughter and keep his composure. Maybe Escobar was right. Maybe he just had to tap into the anger more than the pain.

"Mrs. Bryant, our principal, would like to see you before you leave. She's right over there," she said, indicating a tall woman with short brown hair wearing a business suit, talking with Matt and Kimber.

"We'll be sure to talk with her. Thank you again for this," Sean said, gesturing with the folder.

"Nice meeting you, Dr. Troy."

"Likewise," Christian replied, flashing her his best smile. After she'd left, he turned to Sean. "How are you holding up?"

"Okay. We should probably rescue Annie's principal before she's recruited into the cult," Sean said, heading toward where Matt and Kimber were still chatting with Mrs. Bryant.

"I'd like to thank you and everyone who was involved in putting on this program. It was lovely. Annie would have loved it," Sean said, accepting a brief handshake and hug from the principal.

"You have our deepest sympathies. Annie was a wonderful girl, and a bright student. And I'll miss seeing Mrs. McNamara at the school programs. She never missed anything Annie was involved with."

"Julia was very devoted to the kids," Sean replied. "She was a great mother."

"I thought you might like to have Annie's things, from her locker. I'll have one of the students run inside and get them."

"Thank you, I would like that," Sean said.

"I was just talking with Matt and his new wife. It's hard to believe it wasn't that long ago he was a student here."

"Time flies," Matt said, looking a bit chagrined that the principal was making a point about his age. She also was casting an odd eye between Kimber and Sean, since Sean had brought Kimber to a school function during the brief time they were dating, and she'd made quite an impression on everyone there.

After concluding the amenities at the school, the group made their way to the parking lot, which was ringed by the press.

"Why don't we all have lunch together?" Liz suggested. "I'm not really ready to just go back to work."

"That's a good idea," Kimber chimed in. "How about it, Sean? Are you up to doing lunch with us?" she asked, resting a hand on his arm.

"Sure," he replied, casting a slightly regretful glance at Christian. Lunch alone on the beach sounded better than a group in a restaurant, but he had to start getting out more, not depending on Christian alone for his every breath. Besides, lunch on the beach would probably involve their security guards if they didn't want to be caught on some reporter's candid camera. And he had to start forcing himself into situations that required him to stay composed, and stay focused. There was such a thing as too much time to grieve without boundaries, and he felt like his grief was consuming him.

Once seated at the restaurant, Erica lost little time in bringing up the investigation.

"I spoke with your friend, Detective Fishman yesterday," Erica said, sipping her water. "I found him to be somewhat evasive."

"It's an ongoing investigation," Christian said. "The cops usually aren't too forthcoming, especially if they don't want to jeopardize tipping someone off."

"Your loyalty to the police is touching, but I'm not satisfied with how this investigation is going. They can't give me a viable working theory, or name any suspects. It's obvious Sean was the target of this crime, so it seems they could be looking into disgruntled patients or asking you, Sean, for more input into the investigation."

"I told the police anything I could think of. Fortunately we don't have a lot of disgruntled patients, and even if we did, something like this is extreme," Sean said. "We've had dissatisfied or even unbalanced patients come back at us one way or another, but it's never been anything on this scale."

"Come on, Grandma, this isn't really the time to talk about this," Matt said, flashing a look at Sean.

"It's okay, Matt," Sean said. "We all want to get to the bottom of this. The last few days have been very difficult for me...for all of us. If I've given you the impression that I'm not concerned about getting to the bottom of this, then I apologize. I guess the wounds were a little too fresh for me to take on the cops. Erica, if you have the name of that private investigator, we can talk about hiring him. I do want to speak to Fishman first, as a courtesy."

"Fine. You talk to Fishman. I'll set up an appointment for us and let you know the date and time."

"I thought they planned a lovely ceremony for Annie today," Liz said, blatantly changing the subject. "It's obvious her friends and her teachers thought a lot of her."

"It's hard for kids that age to deal with something like this," Matt said. "It's hard to deal with this at any age. It's so damn senseless."

The conversation paused while the food was served. Sean looked a the attractively prepared grilled mahi mahi on his plate, the colorful fresh vegetables, and the seasoned rice. It should have looked good, and he should have felt hungry, but it might as well have been a dead rat, and he still felt nauseous. Christian's large grilled chicken salad didn't look any better, though he was actually eating some of it. Knowing the pounding in his head was mostly due to his self-imposed hunger strike, he picked up his fork and took a bite of the fish, hoping that if he just forced himself, he'd at least feel better physically. And maybe he'd start feeling a little clearer mentally.

He felt Christian's leg against his, and looked next to him to meet Christian's eyes. He couldn't look away, and couldn't help but return the love that was in that look. Suddenly, his food looked a little less awful, and his heart felt enough lighter that he actually ate some of it, absorbing the warmth and closeness of Christian's touch.

"When is grandpa flying in?" Matt asked Erica.

"Tomorrow morning, a few hours before the service."

"We'll be glad to pick him up at the airport if that would help out," Christian offered.

"I can pick him up, but thank you," Erica replied. "I spoke with him on the phone last night, and he asked me where we were planning to scatter the ashes. I assume you have something in mind, Sean, but I would like to know what it is."

"I hadn't planned that yet," Sean said, feeling his fleeting and temperamental appetite making its exit. "I wanted to take time for all of us to talk about it and decide on the best place."

"I would like to take the ashes home with me, and scatter them in a botanical garden Julia was particularly fond of as a child."

"Was that the Windham Memorial Garden?" Sean asked, and Erica nodded. "Julia mentioned it a few times. She said it was a great place to regain your serenity."

"She loved it there. It would be...calming to think of her there."

"I don't want to separate them," Sean said, taking a drink of the white wine he'd ordered. It was more to push the lump down in his throat than anything else. "I had considered the beach, here in Miami."

"Hopefully not the same one where your mistress was scattered," Erica retorted. "I don't think Julia would approve."

"Excuse me," Sean said quietly, getting up from the table and walking out of the crowded dining room.

"Jesus, Erica," Christian said, shaking his head. "What the hell's the matter with you?" He got up as well, throwing his napkin on his plate, following Sean.

"This is difficult enough for all of us without attacking each other," Liz said.

"It's a valid point. I don't want my daughter's ashes scattered someplace he thought of because that's where he attended the last major ash-scattering in his life. Julia wasn't that passionate about the beach. She wouldn't even care about that. It's as if I'm the only one who has put any thought into a final resting place for them."

"We've all thought about it, grandma," Matt responded. "I think Dad was planning on just keeping the ashes for a while until the family decided on the best place. We didn't plan it as part of the service tomorrow. I don't like the fact he cheated on Mom any more than you do, but that's in the past, and he's got enough to handle without having that thrown in his face."

"Forgive me if it doesn't bring me peace to have my daughter's and granddaughter's ashes in an urn on the mantle watching over my son-in-law and his partner in flagrante delicto on the sofa."

"I think I've had enough," Liz spoke up, standing. "I'll see you at the service tomorrow," she said to Matt, patting his shoulder before leaving.

"My parents were in the process of finalizing a divorce, Grandma. Mom was already in a relationship with Marlowe. They were both moving on." Matt sighed. "Dad's taking this really hard. He's not eating or sleeping and he's having nightmares when he does sleep."

"I'm surprised you're defending him, Matt. You've been more than a little irritated at his antics in the past."

"Maybe since Matt only has one parent left, he wants to take care of him," Kimber spoke up. "Matt's right about Sean. He's taking this very hard. I'm sure he wants to do what's best for Julia's and Annie's ashes."

"Well, if he wanted to do what was best for Julia, it would be a first, but miracles do happen," Erica concluded, shaking her head.

********

Sean was leaning against the side of Christian's bright orange Lambourghini, hands in his pants pockets, staring at the ground. Christian expected him to be emotional, maybe crying, but he wasn't. Mostly, he was thankful the press hadn't followed them here. A dark sedan carrying their personal security people watched Sean from a discreet distance.

"She's always been a bitch, Sean. You can't take her seriously."

"It was on the tip of my tongue to tell her that, so that's why I got up and walked out. I don't want to get into a mudslinging contest with Erica in front of Matt, and certainly not at a time like this."

"I'm glad you're not letting her get to you."

"She's so self-righteous about Julia. If this weren't all so tragic, it would be almost funny. She has the nerve to act like she's this big champion for her daughter when she barely knew Julia existed through most of her childhood. Erica was always too busy with her career to be bothered with Julia, and now that she's dead, she flies in here and acts like the devoted mother. She can shove her botanical garden up her ass. Julia and Annie aren't going anywhere until I'm goddamned good and ready to make that decision."

"If I'd known a visit from Escobar would have this effect on you, I'd have called him myself."

"It's got nothing to do with Escobar, that psychotic asshole. It's you. It's always been you. Anytime I thought I couldn't get through something, you're the one that's pulled me through. Okay, so maybe Escobar calling me a whining pussy did hit home, but if I didn't have you and Conor, I wouldn't have much reason not to be a whining pussy."

"So what do we do now?"

"Marlowe's on the job until seven, so we've got time to take a drive. I need to clear my head before we go talk to Fishman."

"Let's go back to my place and pick up some different clothes. You've still got some stuff over there, so we don't have to go back to munchkinland."

"I'm done explaining myself to Marlowe. I want him there at least for the time being to help Conor through the adjustment of losing Julia. But if he thinks he's going to paint more freaky shit on the walls and derail Conor's second surgery with his usual crock of new age bullshit, he's even crazier than I think he is."

"All this assertive attitude is getting me hot," Christian teased, and Sean snorted.

"Name something that doesn't get you hot," Sean quipped, sliding into the passenger seat of the car while Christian got in on the driver's side.

"You think Marlowe would stay overnight with Conor?" Christian asked.

"Probably. Why?"

"What would you think about ditching this place and going to some pricey hotel with a jacuzzi and room service? We'd be back in the morning. The service isn't until mid afternoon."

"It feels wrong. And I don't know if I really have it in me to enjoy that the night before the memorial service. I've decided I'm going to speak tomorrow, and I need to get my thoughts together."

"You're going to speak at the service? That's going to be pretty difficult."

"I know," Sean said, leaning back in the seat. "But this is my last chance to say something about my wife and daughter in front of an audience. In front of our family and friends. Our lives have been so fucked up for so long that I don't want the people who knew and loved Julia to think about that. Or to think about how they died. I want to talk about what they meant to me, I owe that to them."

"Okay. You know I'm behind you no matter what you do, right?"

"I know. That's why I know if I fall, I don't have to worry. You'll catch me."

"I hope I've already caught you," Christian responded, his voice serious.

"I'm not going anywhere."

"Not without me, you aren't," Christian said, smiling. "How about that lunch on the beach?"

"We just had lunch."

"You had a quarter of a fish filet, and I had half a salad. Let's get those gourmet sandwiches from Pierre's, a bottle of wine, and hang out on the beach for a while?"

"Sold," Sean replied, smiling. "But I want to stop and see Fishman first."

********

Detective Fishman was at the precinct when Sean called, so he was prepared for their visit. They sat around the table in an interrogation room, Fishman's clasped hands resting on top of a fat folder that was presumably the case file.

"Before we go any further, I want you to know this case is our top priority. I'm the lead on it, but my partner and two other detectives are working with me on it. We're under some pressure from the media that will probably result in forming a task force, which will put additional personnel and resources at our disposal. Your mother-in-law is convinced she should hire a private investigator. I'm going to be honest, Dr. McNamara - - that's going to get in the way more than it's going to help."

"What are all these people doing?" Christian asked.

"We've questioned witnesses, which was no small undertaking. Many of the people in the crowd that gathered had seen the explosion from their windows, or from their cars as they were passing. We're also talking with people who would have been on that street during the hours your rental car was parked there. Obviously the explosive device was planted after you parked there. There was no timer. It was wired to explode when the engine started, so you would have triggered it yourself had it been planted at any other time."

"Did you find out anything? Did anyone see anything?"

"We have a couple reports of a man in a hooded sweatshirt, good build, loitering in the area at the time. One witness places him near your car about two a.m. No one saw him do anything, but all three people who mentioned him considered it unusual or suspicious."

"What about Michelle Landau?" Sean asked.

"We've had a tail on her, and I've been doing some background checks. Your business partner has an interesting past, including a stint as a high-priced call girl. She was arrested once for prostitution, but the charges were dropped."

"I guess old Burt didn't hook up with her for her medical school experience," Christian said, shaking his head. "Shit."

"So far, she hasn't done anything overtly suspicious, but we are keeping track of who she meets up with, where she goes, and so on. There are a few interesting characters in the mix I'm not really at liberty to go into right now."

"Nothing that ties her to the explosion?" Sean asked.

"Not directly or conclusively. We're working on tracing the origin of the explosives. Landau Enterprises has been doing a good amount of blasting to bring down an old building downtown to make way for an office complex. The type of explosives used in part of that project are similar to the type used in the car explosion. Now, mind you, I said similar. There's a lot of analysis and tracing of serial and model numbers before we know if there's any real relationship."

"With all the kinds of explosives there are in the world, it's kind of an interesting coincidence," Christian observed.

"That's what I thought, but we still have to be careful how much we tie to that. We have no proof that Mrs. Landau had direct access to the explosives on that job site, even if they match exactly, which we haven't determined yet."

"But you think it's a good lead, don't you?" Sean persisted.

"I think it's a damn good lead. The kind that makes you look real hard at a suspect." Fishman paused. "I don't know if you've been following any of the media coverage of this case."

"I've tried not to," Sean admitted. "I have the DVR set up to record the news, because at some point, I want to see the coverage, what they're saying. I just can't deal with hours of footage of the fire and all the forensics details on a nightly basis."

"One of the issues they're bringing up is the life insurance policies you had on Annie and Julia. A million dollars on your daughter, and five million on your wife."

"You don't have to blame that on the press. I know those are questions you need to ask me."

"Then I'm asking. Why so much?"

"I have a five million dollar policy on myself, too. In the event I die, I want my kids to have all the advantages they'd have if I were alive. When Julia and I talked about those policies, we agreed we felt the same way. While Julia didn't work outside the home for much of our marriage, even in her case, she felt it was a way to make something positive come from something tragic. The kids' college educations guaranteed - - ivy league, if that's what they wanted, top of the line child care and any tutoring, lessons, educational travel experiences... We agreed that what Julia did for the kids as a stay at home mother would require a lot of money to replace over their lifetime. Annie was a baby when the policy was taken out, so we were planning at least twenty years into the future to support and educate both kids. If something happened to both of us, my policy was to go to Christian to buy out my half so he'd be full owner of the practice, and whatever was left, I trusted his discretion to invest for the future of the business or to help look after the kids...or to plan for his own retirement. Christian's always been family to me, so I care what happens to him after I'm gone."

"Was he always the beneficiary?"

"He and Julia were co-beneficiaries originally, but when we got divorced, I took her off the policy. Julia's never managed that kind of money on her own before, and I had no way of knowing who she'd meet or remarry, so I figured it made more sense to entrust the money to Christian. I knew he'd take care of our family."

"What about Annie's policy?"

"That's earmarked to start a charitable foundation in her name. Under the circumstances, in Julia's and her name. The only way we would have used that money would be if the death had occurred in a way where other family members were injured or needed extended care. Julia and I both agreed we didn't want to personally profit off the death of one of our children. At the same time, an accident that injured more than one member of the family could put us in a position to need extended care."

"I have a similar policy on myself, with Sean as the beneficiary," Christian volunteered. "We never wanted to leave each other in a situation where the surviving partner couldn't buy out the business and carry on as sole owner. And I always figured Sean could use the money to put kids through college, or whatever he needed. Neither one of us wanted to have our families or our business in the toilet if we died."

"Okay. You know I had to ask about this, Sean."

"It's weird. I haven't even thought about the money or the insurance. I'd give that and the shirt off my back to bring them back. I could give a shit less about the money."

"I appreciate your cooperation about these questions. I hope you'll take the next one in the same spirit. Your mother-in-law mentioned an incident in which you," he opened his notepad and flipped a few pages, "choked her daughter, pushed her into the refrigerator, and threw her out of the house with such violence that she was afraid to remain in the home long enough to pack a bag."

"That's bullshit," Christian spoke up. "Erica's just trying to make Sean look bad."

"She told me that Christian was Matt's biological father. I didn't know that for seventeen years. I wasn't even able to think clearly. I know I pushed her, and I guess my hand was up at her neck, but I didn't choke her. I never would have done that. I told her to leave, and I was...irate. I suppose she was scared. I shouldn't have laid a hand on her, but it was probably one of the worst moments of my life."

"Did she go to the hospital, have any bruises?"

"No, not that I know of. I never saw any on her, and I don't believe she sought any treatment. She looked fine even right then, when she left. She was upset, crying, but she wasn't hurt physically."

"Okay," Fishman said. "Your mother-in-law also called our attention to the domestic violence situation with your son, Matt, and the restraining order he had against you."

"He pushed his mother across the room," Christian said. "I love Matt, he's my son, too. But if you'd been there, you'd have probably slugged him, too."

"I shouldn't have hit him," Sean said. "But he dropped the restraining order. We worked it out eventually. When he pushed Julia, I just reacted. I was pretty disgusted that any son of mine would physically assault his mother."

"You have a good relationship with your son, now?"

"It's been rocky since his teenage years, but that was an especially bad time. We're on good terms now. I hope it stays that way."

"Erica was just a font of good information, wasn't she?" Christian said, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest.

"We have to look into this stuff. I'll tell you, Dr. McNamara, I personally don't consider you a suspect in this, but officially, anyone who stands to gain from the deaths, or had any prior...'bad blood' with the victim or victims earns a spot on the list."

"How much of this is in the news?" Sean asked.

"Most of it," Christian admitted, even though Sean had directed the question at Fishman.

"When were you going to mention that to me?" Sean demanded, turning in his chair to face Christian.

"Maybe when I thought you could handle it. Before today, you haven't eaten or slept since it happened, and I had some doubts if you were going to pull though it at all. When would have been a good time for me to say, 'Oh, by the way, Sean, your personal life is being analyzed on Fox News right now, and they're discussing the autopsy reports. Grab the chips!'"

"It would have been nice to know they were raking all this shit up."

"That's what reporters do - - rake shit," Fishman said. "Unfortunately, most of it is traceable through public records. Anytime there's a homicide of a prominent, respectable victim, not only does society care a hell of a lot more, but the press immediately go to work on making the victim and their family look as sordid as possible, because it draws in more viewers and sells more tabloids."

"What else do you need from me? Let's get it all over with now," Sean said.

"I think that's it for now. I'm sorry it was necessary to bring these things up, but I've been fighting my boss on questioning you sooner."

"Do you have any other suspects besides Michelle and the guy in the sweatshirt?" Christian asked.

"We have a few persons of interest, but it's pretty early on for me to say anything about them. I will keep you posted if anything new develops. If you decided to hire this private investigator, that's your business. But I'd appreciate a little longer to work on this case without someone getting in our way. We have a team of investigators working on this - - not just detectives, but forensics people, too. We're not sparing the resources on pursuing this investigation."

"That's good to know," Sean said. "There's something I need to know. When the explosion went off - - ?"

"They'd never know what hit them. The first explosion was right under the front seat. The second was the gas tank, but they didn't suffer. It happened too fast."

"Good. I can't shake this image of the fire consuming...everything." Sean swallowed, and Christian rested his hand on Sean's back.

"They didn't suffer. Put that out of your mind. These things look horrible, but actually, the victim doesn't suffer the way they do from other causes of death. It's quick, pretty much instantaneous."

********

Christian leaned back on the couch and watched the coverage on the national news network. Sean was in his study, trying to compose something for his eulogy at the memorial service. He'd declined Christian's offer to talk it through or bounce anything off on him. This was apparently part of Sean's coping process, to work through it on his own, and to give the whole situation some semblance of closure by speaking at the service.

They had given up on the proposed trip to the beach. Sean wasn't in the mood for it, and they probably wouldn't have had much privacy if reporters caught on to where they were. This case was the true crime feeding frenzy of the moment, and they were caught up in that hype. The program Christian was watching was hosted by a well-known news network reporter and former attorney who had her own show. She had no less than four people dissecting the case, including a famous medical examiner, a former cop-turned-author, and another legal analyst. She had summarized the way the family had "closed ranks" on the media and would not make any public statements, discussed the large insurance policies and the domestic violence incidents. The former cop focused on how the spouse is always the first suspect, and made a point that it was Sean's rental car that exploded, after he loaned it to Julia and Annie. They also mentioned rumors that Sean and his partner in the medical practice were having an affair, and were currently living together.

The medical examiner went into tasteless and explicit details about the charred remains and what they could tell about the nature of the explosion. And then he uttered words that hit Christian like a brick in the stomach.

"Julia McNamara's remains were positioned in such a way as to indicate that she probably survived the initial explosion and tried to exit the vehicle before the second explosion. Her burns would have been extensive and probably ultimately fatal, anyway. The explosive device was located slightly to the right of center of the front seat area, so the greatest impact would have been on the passenger side. Of course, that could have been an error on the part of the person who installed it, so I wouldn't take that as any sign of intent to target the passenger."

Christian couldn't move, and he couldn't seem to breathe. Julia knew, and she was alive in those seconds after the explosion. If he'd let Sean go to the car, could he have gotten her out? Was he so afraid of losing Sean that he prevented him from saving Julia?

No, that's crazy. That car was an inferno. This guy has to be wrong, and even if he's not, Sean wouldn't have had time to get her out. And if he'd gone near that car, he'd have been horribly burned, if not killed.

Fishman didn't mention that little forensic detail. He'd spared Sean that, but how long would Sean be spared any of it?

Christian fervently wished he'd been spared that image as he shut off the television. Without the hum of the voices on the air, he could hear just the faintest sound coming from the study. It sounded like a few sharply indrawn breaths that accompanied stifled crying. He thought of letting it go, leaving Sean alone as he'd asked, but he couldn't stand that sound and not at least go to Sean. And at that moment, he needed Sean as much as Sean might need him. Maybe more.

He went to the open door of the room and saw his partner sitting at the desk in front of the computer, his shoulders shaking.

"Want some company?" Christian asked, moving toward him.

"Yeah, I could use it," Sean admitted softly. Christian pulled up a chair next to him and put his arm around Sean.

"How's it coming?"

"It's hard, harder than I thought," he said, wiping at his eyes. "I don't know if I can do this."

"You don't have to."

"Yes, I do. I need to do it."

"You don't have to do it alone," Christian said. "I'm right here."

"There's so much to say. How do you sum up a lifetime in a couple of pages? All the things they were, everything they did..."

"You don't have to cover all that ground, Sean. You're not the only one speaking. Don't worry about it being complete or perfect or even all that organized. It's not a term paper - - I remember how good you were at those."

"Considering I usually had to write one for each of us, it's a good thing," he quipped, and Christian squeezed his shoulders, chuckling.

"You're trying too hard. Nobody's grading this. Just talk to our friends and family about what Julia and Annie meant to you, and don't worry about it being perfect."

"If I don't put something down on paper, I won't remember anything. My mind'll go blank."

"Write down some thoughts. Not all neat little sentences with catchy words. Just make a list of thoughts, impressions, ideas. And then talk from them. You'll do fine."

Sean let his head droop onto Christian's shoulder.

"Why don't you finish in the morning? The service isn't until afternoon, and it's getting late." Just then, as if on cue, Conor started crying.

"I'll take care of him," Sean said, standing.

"Oh, come on, let his old godfather have a turn," Christian teased, and Sean smiled tiredly at that.

"Better check the diaper before you volunteer, godfather. Come with me."

Sean went to the crib and picked up his son, holding him and comforting him while Christian hovered close by.

"His hand is really beautiful, Sean. You and Mogabi did a great job," Christian said, smiling when the little hand with the tiny pink scars closed around his finger. He put his arm around Sean and leaned in closer so Conor could see both of them making fools of themselves at the same time. And then it hit him. All his life, he'd lamented the fact he was alone, that he didn't have a real family of his own... and now he was standing here with his life partner he loved more than his own life, making silly faces at the baby they were going to be raising together.

"We had the easy part of it. This little guy did all the hard work."

"I know it was hard for you to put him through all that."

"I spent so much time fighting Julia and Marlowe that I guess I didn't feel like I could let my guard down and acknowledge that it twisted my guts in a knot every time I had to turn the screws on his hand. I kept worrying he'd start being afraid of me."

"He loves you, Sean," Christian said with a smile in his voice. "I think kids know when you're hurting them and when you're helping them."

"I just don't want him to feel like a monster...a freak...the way I did."

"You weren't a monster or a freak. You were a little boy with a facial deformity who had surgery and grew up into a beautiful man. And thanks to you, your son is going to grow up to be a beautiful man, too, just like his dad."

"Our son," Sean corrected. "Our life, our family, our kids. You shared your son with me. Now it's my turn." Sean placed Conor in Christian's arms. "He needs changing. I'll get the stuff ready."

Christian carried the baby to the changing table and laid him down there. Sean went ahead with changing Conor while Christian made a variety of goofy faces at the little boy that kept his grin in place while Sean finished the dirty work.

"Sean, they're talking about our relationship in the press. I just thought you should know."

"I'm not planning on being in the closet all our lives, so I guess it doesn't matter. I just don't like the idea of it being fodder for a bunch of gossip mongers. What else were they talking about?"

"The usual stuff, mostly what we discussed with Fishman," Christian lied, not wanting to tell Sean what had been said about Julia. There was almost nothing left of them, so how could that guy be so sure she'd been alive after the first explosion?

"Christian?" Sean frowned, standing there, holding Conor, pinning Christian with an intent gaze. "What did you hear?"

"Nothing we need to dwell on. They were getting into forensics and talking about...about issues we don't want to concentrate on now. There's no point."

"You can tell me or I can go turn on the news and find out myself."

"Put Conor down first."

"Christian, what the hell is it?"

"Just do it, Sean. We'll go in the other room and talk about it."

Sean paused a moment, then laid Conor in his crib, making sure a favorite toy was close by before leaving the momentarily quiet and content baby to follow Christian to the living room.

"I don't know how they could be so sure about this, but it's better we talk about it now, before someone else brings it up."

"Christian, for God's sake, just tell me," Sean said, sitting on the couch next to Christian.

"I was watching one of those commentary shows where they have a panel of experts on, and one of them was a medical examiner." Christian paused, not wanting to look at Sean when he said the words, but knowing he had to. He owed him that. "He said the way the remains were positioned, that it was possible...it was possible that Julia's death wasn't instantaneous, the way Fishman told us."

"What exactly did he say?" Sean seemed to go paler than he already was.

"He said it looked as if Julia wasn't killed by the first explosion, and may have tried to get out of the car," Christian concluded, his voice breaking.

"What about Annie?" Sean asked, his voice rough. He was calmer than Christian expected him to be, but he wasn't sure if that was a good or a bad sign.

"He said the explosives were closer to the passenger side, that there was no sign that her death wasn't instant."

"That's why she blames me, because I didn't save her. She must have seen me out there, not coming for her."

"I held you back. Don't blame yourself, blame me. I didn't want you to die and I held you back. Everything was on fire, you couldn't have gotten her out. You're blaming yourself, that's why you're having nightmares."

"I wondered why she was so angry. She couldn't have thought I caused the explosion, but I didn't get her out of the car and she knows it."

"If you'd gone near that car, you'd have been badly burned, probably killed. And just because Julia survived the first blast, if she even did, doesn't mean she would have survived her injuries." Christian was talking fast now, and he didn't know if it was for Sean's benefit, or his own. He knew he held Sean back, he knew that Sean's safety was the first thing on his mind and in his heart when he did it. No matter how he grieved for Julia and Annie, feeling Sean's living, warm body in his arms assuaged his grief to an extent he would admit only to himself. "I'm sorry, Sean. I didn't want you to hear it on the news, or from someone else."

"I know you're right," Sean admitted, slumping back on the couch. "I saw that fire, and I couldn't even see Julia and Annie in that car, the flames were so intense. If Julia knew what was happening to her, that idea horrifies me. But the rational part of me knows you're right. I couldn't have gotten her out of there, and she probably wouldn't have survived her injuries."

"Or you wouldn't have survived yours," Christian said, barely able to get the horrible words out.

Sean rubbed a hand over his face. "Just when I think all this can't get any worse."

"Maybe we're making a mistake not making any statements to the media...about us, I mean."

"I don't give a shit what they think, so why should I make a statement? Besides, we are together in a relationship, it was a factor in divorcing Julia. There are domestic violence incidents in our family's past. I do have large insurance policies on Julia and Annie. Granted, they're spinning it to make me look like the next homicidal husband of the day, but it's all true. Getting tangled up with reporters will only make us look defensive - - because you know one of them will say something offensive and one of us will get pissed off and then they'll have footage of us taking a swing at one of them."

"You're probably right."

"I'm always right, remember?" Sean asked, smiling. "I'll never completely get over blaming myself for putting them in that car, and for not getting them out, but the truth is, when I face reality, no one could have gotten to them."

"Maybe the nightmares'll stop then," Christian said, leaning back, shoulder to shoulder with Sean on the couch.

"I hope so. I could use some sleep. But I can't stop thinking about what it must have been like for Julia in those seconds. Did she realize Annie was dead? Did she understand what was happening to her?"

"Between the shock, pain, and all the smoke and fire - - I doubt she had the time or the ability to process all that."

"I used to wonder how the families of murder victims coped with hearing all those details on the news every day. How they coped with their tragedy being a ticket to higher ratings, how the unfolding horror of what happened to their loved ones being everyone's favorite drama to follow would feel. I've stuck my head in the sand and avoided it as much as I can. It's horrible, but I can't stay in a bubble forever."

"I'm guilty of making that bubble around you."

"I know I was pretty close to the edge, Christian. I don't know if I would have made it without that bubble. I know I wouldn't have made it without you."

"This is going to sound stupid, but it pisses me off when they refer to our relationship as 'an affair.'" Christian took Sean's hand in his. "It's so much more than that."

"I don't care what they want to call it. There isn't a word that really does it justice anyway, so why worry about it?"

"This is a forever thing for me, Sean. I've been engaged before, but I never felt certain about it like this. Like all the pieces just suddenly fit together."

"Forever is a long time to go without a woman, Christian. This isn't the time for you to make lifetime commitments. We're both grieving. We should get through this, and then - - "

"Why, do you think you're going to change your mind about me?" Christian asked, looking into Sean's eyes intently.

"Never," he said quietly.

"But you think I can't be faithful to you, is that it?"

"I know you, Christian. I love you with all my heart and soul, but I know what you like. And someday, you're going to want to experience it again."

"So? If we need to scratch the old itch, we bring a woman home and share her. Wouldn't be the first time."

"It's been a long day, Christian." Sean withdrew his hand and stood. "I'm going to take a shower."

"Can I come, too?" Christian asked hopefully.

"I need a few minutes. I won't be long," Sean replied, heading for the bathroom.

Well played, asshole, Christian thought. You're on the verge of proposing and then you bring up doing a threesome. As if some skank's pussy is going to be better than being inside Sean. And you're going to pass up playing with his sensitive little tits just to have a handful of hers? Half of them were implants, anyway - - I could play with a pair of those at the office without the complications.

But we've always been friends, partners, intimate enough with each other to not mind having the other around watching while we bang some nameless one-night pick-up. Hell, Sean set one up himself on the Rosenberg case... Yeah, the only way we could have sex to try to fix our relationship, with a woman in the middle who looked like Julia.

Now that barrier's gone, and you're putting it back up. And managing to reinforce that nagging insecurity in Sean that he's not enough for you sexually.

Decision made, Christian got up off the floor and checked on Conor before heading toward the bathroom.

********

Sean let the water pour down on his head, not sure how to sort out everything going through his mind. Julia's suffering and his inability to save her...and the truth that Christian was going to eventually go back to dragging cheap pick-ups from bars into their home, and into their bed. He'd been a fool to think anything else. He loved Christian, and he always would, and it didn't change that he wanted them to be lovers, to be together for life. But he'd foolishly thought sex with him would be enough for Christian. He didn't believe it at first, but it was so good between them, so emotional and intimate and...complete.

Am I being fair, or a self-righteous hypocrite whose cock twitches at the thought of ramming into something slick and tight? Of course, lately, that fantasy has involved sliding in and out of Christian, and I'm giving him that, as much as a male is capable of. I don't have a pussy or big tits, but I've given him all I've got...and it's not enough.

"I know I wasn't invited," Christian said, startling Sean a little as he opened the shower door and stepped in behind him, closing it again. "Is it okay if I stay?"

"Sure," Sean replied, not really sure what he wanted to say. Christian's body felt good against his back, and his arms felt good coming around him from behind. "Is Conor okay? I heard you in there on the monitor," Sean said, referring to the nursery monitor he had dangling from the shower head. Christian was momentarily distracted by wondering just how many of those receivers Sean had sprinkled throughout the house. Conor couldn't burp off schedule without his father's radar going up.

"He's sleeping." Christian rubbed Sean's chest. "Can you forgive me for being a stupid, insensitive asshole?"

"I wouldn't be here if I couldn't," Sean retorted, smiling a little, already warmed by the apology.

"I've never been good at controlling myself. But I want to."

"This is an emotional time for both of us. It's probably not the best time to make life altering commitments." But that's what I want...you to alter your life and make a commitment to love just me and want just me until we're both old and gray and die together in matching deck chairs overlooking the beach. Sean closed his eyes, savoring that thought.

"I saw the look in your eyes when I brought up doing a threesome."

"Don't go by the look in my eyes right now," Sean said. "I'm tired and sad and just trying to get through one day after the next. That's not your fault."

"You think I mentioned a threesome because you're not enough for me," Christian stated.

That hit home, and Sean couldn't deny it. He leaned against Christian, and felt warm lips on his neck, warm breath in his ear.

"It's not about you. It's about me and my inability to keep my dick in my pants." Christian paused. "I'm afraid I'm going to fuck this up, and it would kill me."

"You didn't fuck anything up. I'm upset about what we just found out, about everything. Why are you trying to take that on yourself?"

"Maybe because it matters to me if I hurt you. And I hurt you a few minutes ago." Christian's fingers were in his hair now, massaging the shampoo in, but mostly just massaging his scalp and his temples, alleviating the residual headache he seemed to have since the explosion. Between the deafening noise they'd been so close to, and all the stress of the tragedy, both of them were keeping the over the counter headache medicine companies in business.

Sean groaned in relief as he felt some of the tension melting away. He let himself be steered under the water again to rinse off the shampoo, and was surprised when he felt hot, wet suction around his cock. He leaned back on the tiles, closing his eyes and losing himself in the sensations. Everything seemed to fade to the edges of his consciousness as he felt himself getting hard. Making love with Christian had that effect on him, uplifting him to some other place, offering him an escape that even getting drunk couldn't match. Maybe because it was an escape from pain, and a doorway into something beautiful at the same time.

Christian's hand was around the base of Sean's cock, squeezing and pumping while his mouth worked the rest of it, his other hand massaging and fondling Sean's balls. With the shower still spraying down on them, Sean came with a little gasp of pleasure, Christian not releasing him until he was spent. Christian moved up Sean's body and used his own body to press him against the tiles, kissing him urgently, arms on the tiles on either side of his lover. Sean wrapped his arms around him and pulled Christian impossibly tighter against him, returning the kisses with equal passion.

Grabbing the soap, Christian rubbed it hard in his hands, getting them as slick as possible before coating his cock and urging Sean to turn around, which he willingly did. Christian kissed his neck and shoulders, one hand moving up to rub over water-slick nipples. "I love you, Sean," he whispered, and the words went straight to Sean's heart the way they always did. Christian often told him he loved him right before he entered him, and it was something Sean treasured.

Christian eased into him gently, compensating for the fact the soap wasn't as slick a lubrication as the gel was. Sean was relaxed from the orgasm, and by the fact he wanted to feel that close to Christian. The pace was slow and easy, so gentle there was almost no initial discomfort from it. Some part of his brain was telling him that this wasn't the best pace for Christian, but it felt so good having that big cock sliding in and out of him slowly, giving him time to adjust to and feel each move, that he couldn't bear to urge Christian to speed things up.

Christian's head was resting against the back of his, and Christian was moaning low in his throat, sounding as if each thrust was the sweetest sensation in the world. He didn't speed up his moves, but he changed his angle a little, and began brushing over Sean's prostate with each stroke. Sean had felt himself getting a little hard again, but now he was gasping and moaning with each move, his cock waking up to full hardness.

He wasn't sure if it was the intense sensations from his prostate or the realization that Christian was controlling his own urges long enough to make love to him until he came again, that brought Sean to the edge, and then pushed him over it, his body shaking with his climax while Christian reached around to pump gently on his cock, making the second orgasm even better, sweeter than the first, even if it wasn't as earth-shaking. With a few more slow but firm thrusts, Christian came inside him, and then just waited there a few minutes, holding him close.

"I love you, too," Sean said, his voice shaky with emotion, but for the first time in days, it was emotion that came from love he couldn't begin to express, not pain or sadness. That was always there, beneath the surface, and would rise to the surface again when they were out of this little cocoon of love, but for right now, Christian had given him so much love that his heart couldn't feel anything else. Just when he thought it was impossible to love Christian more than he already did, it felt like all those feelings had expanded tenfold.

Christian carefully eased out of him, and they let the water from the shower rinse them off before turning it off and stepping out of the stall. Pulling on terrycloth robes and letting them absorb the water, Sean went to check on Conor one more time before going to bed. When he returned to the bedroom, Christian was already in bed, his robe tossed on the floor, with the covers turned back for Sean.

Sending his robe to join Christian's, he got into bed and lay back, opening his arms to Christian. It was so often the other way around - - Sean would sleep with his head on Christian's shoulder or chest, or Christian would be the one to pull him into an embrace. Maybe it was Christian's larger stature, or maybe it was just that he'd spent so much time taking care of Sean when he was recovering from the facial injury or comforting him through his grief that they'd fallen into that pattern.

Christian seemed happy to break that pattern, moving into Sean's arms, resting his head on Sean's chest. Sean stroked his damp hair, and just lay there feeling the warm weight of Christian's body against his.

"You don't have to make me a bunch of promises, Christian," Sean said softly. "A thousand women might get your dick, but I've got your heart, and you've got mine, and that'll never change."

"Are you for real?" Christian asked, looking up at him. Sean had to smile at that.

"Yeah, I am, and so are you. We're for real, forever. We've been through a lot of shit, and we'll probably go through a lot more before we're done, but we never stop loving each other even when we come to blows over it, and we never will, no matter what else happens."

"I think we could build a lifetime on that," Christian said.

"I think we already did, and we're living it." Sean kissed the top of Christian's head. "Thank you for being in my life."

"Thank you for being my life," Christian replied, moving up to kiss Sean before settling back in his arms. They lay there quietly for a long while, just being together, until they drifted off to sleep.

********

When Christian woke, he was disappointed not to find Sean in bed with him. The sun was streaming in the windows, and he checked the night stand clock to see that it was almost nine. It was the first long sleep he'd had since the explosion, and he hoped Sean hadn't been awake too much earlier than he was. His partner desperately needed a good night's sleep. That's when he noticed the note on the pillow.

"Felt inspired to write the eulogy. Sleep in if you want. Come get me when you're up. Love you. S."

Come get me when you're up. Christian had to smile at the innocent double entendre. The note didn't really say a whole lot, but for some reason, Christian knew he'd always keep it, somewhere. Maybe because it was written the morning after one of the most beautiful nights of his life.

"A thousand women might get your dick, but I've got your heart."

"Yes, you do, Sean. Always have," Christian muttered to himself.

"I do what?" Sean's voice startled him from the door of the room. Still in his robe which was open in a deep V to reveal his bare chest, hair rumpled and unshaven, Christian couldn't believe the way Sean turned him on at that moment. He came in carrying a tray with breakfast for two, kicked the door shut behind him, and set the tray on the bed before sitting there himself. "Marlowe's in the nursery with Conor," he explained.

"Get your writing done?" Christian asked. He could see by the redness and puffiness around his eyes that Sean had been crying, but he seemed okay at the moment as he handed Christian a glass of orange juice before picking up his own and taking a drink.

"I got up about seven, and it just flowed. I knew what I wanted to say. I just hope I can say it."

"Nobody expects you to hold up perfectly. I'll help you if you need me."

"I never doubted it," Sean said, smiling faintly.

"Did you get up for Conor last night?"

"A couple times, why?"

"I never heard you get up. Did you sleep?"

"Yeah, part of the night. Then I heard Conor about three, and he needed changing. I came back to bed for a while, but I didn't really sleep. I heard him again near seven, so I just got up. Marlowe was already here by then, but I didn't think that far ahead when I got up."

"Are you okay, after what we found out last night?"

"I'm not okay at all, Christian. It's just a matter of degrees. There's so much...horror with all this. I guess a part of me always felt that Julia or Annie probably suffered something, especially since the first explosion didn't destroy the entire car. Maybe that's what Julia wanted me to know."

"You're not still thinking you really saw Julia? You do know it was a dream?"

"I want to believe that."

"But you don't?"

"I do." Sean paused. "It was just so real when it happened. I know it can't be, but it felt like more than a dream." He sighed. "I think I was close to losing my mind. You brought me back from the edge."

"Yeah, well, I can't make it without my partner, so I kind of had to." Christian smiled, and Sean returned it. "Waffles, huh?" Christian sat up and stuffed a pillow behind his back so he could eat the warm waffles covered in sliced strawberries and whipped cream. "I guess you've broadened your horizons beyond lasagna."

"Liz brought us the fresh fruit yesterday, along with some other groceries and a couple of casseroles. All I did was a little slicing, toasting, and dolloping."

"Dolloping? Whatever the hell that is, you should be doing that with me, not by yourself," Christian joked. He was happy to see Sean actually chuckle a little at the remark.

"I'd rather do most things with you than by myself, so you've got yourself a deal."

Sean was actually eating breakfast with Christian, instead of picking at the food like he'd been doing. It was if some sense of peace had settled on him for the first time since Julia and Annie died.

"You look good this morning," Christian said.

"Yeah, thanks," Sean replied, rubbing over his unshaven face.

"Well, yeah, there's the fact I've wanted to tear your robe off and throw you on the floor since you walked in, but I mean you look...okay," Christian said, and Sean nodded, understanding what he meant.

"I still feel like I'm walking around with a hole in my chest, and I know it's always going to be there, but I feel like now there's a chance it might get better. That life might be good again, even if it's never the same."

"I think we'll be okay," Christian agreed, chasing the food with a drink from the cup of coffee on the tray. "This was a nice surprise," he said of the breakfast.

"It's not much, but you've been taking care of me so much lately... And last night was special. Waffles don't exactly do it justice, but you really don't want my eggs benedict."

"I didn't fall in love with you for your cooking," Christian retorted.

"No, it was my incredible body," Sean added.

"It was for the whole package," Christian said, not joking this time. He dipped a piece of strawberry in the whipped cream and held it out to Sean, who leaned in to eat it, taking his time licking the whipped cream off Christian's finger. Sean put a strawberry in his mouth and leaned forward toward Christian.

"Come and get it," he said, and Christian kissed him, sliding his tongue in Sean's mouth, their tongues having a mock battle for the fruit until they separated and it was in Christian's mouth.

"Erica called."

"Buzzkill," Christian replied.

"She's not my favorite person, either. She's coming over in an hour or so to start going over everything for this afternoon. She wants to be sure we know our places in the program."

"Dress rehearsal for a memorial service, huh? Nice."

"As much as she gets under my skin, I'm glad she took over the planning. I couldn't have done it this soon, and I want Julia and Annie to have something nice." Sean took a drink of coffee, and Christian couldn't help thinking how much he'd like to climb on top of Sean and taste the coffee in his mouth instead of from the mug he was holding. "I just hope we can keep the media out of it."

"The security company assured me they'd keep the vultures out."

"Without an established guest list, that'll be pretty hard," Sean said, sighing. "Erica wanted to limit it to the people we notified, but I didn't want to keep out anyone who genuinely wanted to pay their respects. I knew most of the people in Julia's and Annie's lives, but not everyone."

"They can take names at the door. At least it'll force people to check in so it's not so simple for reporters to just wander in. I'll call Tony this morning," Christian said, referring to their contact at the security company.

"Okay. We better shave and get dressed. I don't think Erica wants to see our fresh from bed look."

"Her loss," Christian said, setting the tray on the floor before grabbing Sean by the lapels of his robe and pushing him down on the mattress, climbing on top of him, opening his robe. He had a morning erection that felt like it was going to burst without some attention, and humping Sean's naked body was just what the doctor ordered. He felt a little guilty when he realized Sean wasn't even slightly hard, and didn't have much say in their present position before he found himself mostly naked and being humped.

Christian's worries were assuaged when Sean pulled him down for more kisses, hooking one leg over Christian's back to intensify their friction. Christian came fast, but when he reached down to stroke Sean, he found him almost completely flaccid. Sean gently pushed his hand away.

"Shit, Sean, I'm sorry."

"Why?"

"I just shoved you on the bed and got off on you...and you didn't want it." Christian started to move away, but Sean put his arms around him, keeping him right where he was.

"Today's going to be...hard to get through. Being with you gives me strength, even if my head's just not in the right place to act like I want it."

"Everything else is," Christian said, smiling as he got another smile out of Sean.

********

Sean, Christian, Erica, Julia's father, Robert, Matt, Kimber, and Liz rode in a limousine together to the service. Sean hired another sitter to take care of Conor, as Marlowe wanted to attend the memorial service, though he chose to go on his own. The funeral home handling the service was used to dealing with high-profile funerals and the security issues that could surround them. The private security personnel Christian hired were a subtle but visible presence that resembled the Secret Service, muscular men in dark suits and sunglasses, carrying two-way radios, keeping members of the media at bay.

The limo was directed to a side entrance obscured by landscaping and an electric gate where the family could arrive with some privacy. As they got out of the car, something in Sean's gut twisted, and it all seemed overpoweringly real again. There's nothing like dressing up in a dark suit and riding in a limo to bring you hurtling back toward reality at a dizzying speed. That, and the smell of flowers, sound of hushed voices, and that little sign that read, "McNamara Memorial Service" with a small arrow pointing the way to the chapel.

"They have the first center row reserved for us," Erica explained as they walked toward the chapel.

"What are those?" Sean stopped dead in his tracks when he saw cameras mounted on tripods on either side of the chapel, aimed toward the front.

"I chose one representative from the local media, and one of the national news networks, to allow in for coverage."

"Absolutely not," Sean stated flatly. "Get them out of here, now. This isn't entertainment."

"You could have asked us, Erica," Christian spoke up. "We've hired security people to make sure this is a private service."

"There are a lot of people worldwide who have been following this case and their sympathies go out to us, and to Julia and Annie. Why shouldn't they be permitted to at least share in the tribute?"

"You mean tune in for the show? What's really at play here, Erica? Have you signed on to write the tell-all book and this will just boost your readership?" Sean accused. He almost expected an angry denial, but instead, Erica looked a bit stunned, and seemed momentarily at a loss. "I don't believe this. You really are going to make a book out of this, aren't you?" Sean made a move toward the chapel, but Christian caught hold of his arm.

"I'll handle this. We're not going to give them a show," Christian said. "That's why we hired security." Christian pulled out his cell phone and called the on-site supervisor for the security personnel, and briefly explained the situation. Within minutes, four dark-suited men quietly entered the chapel and approached the reporters, in teams of two, and escorted them and their cameras from the chapel.

"You had no right to do that," Erica said to Sean. "I made all these arrangements - - "

"You made all these arrangements because you wanted to. I let you do it because I thought it might help you with your grief to be in charge of this. I did it because I thought it would please Julia to know you wanted to arrange the memorial. If I'd known for a second you were using this as a promotional event for a book, you'd have had access to this memorial service over my dead body!" Sean stated in an angry voice he tried to keep low enough not to carry beyond the area where they stood to were the mourners were beginning to arrive.

"You never cease to amaze me," Robert Noughton spoke up, having been a silent observer through most of the argument. A tall man with thick silver hair and glasses, one could easily see in his features a resemblance between him and Matt and Annie. "You'd actually use our daughter's and granddaughter's deaths to your own advantage."

"How dare you accuse me of that. I want to tell their story, give them some notoriety. Let people know what kind of woman she was, what kind of girl Annie was - - "

"All you want to do is sell books!" Sean retorted.

"People are arriving," Kimber said, inclining her head toward those who were being checked in at the door and would soon be wanting to take their seats in the chapel.

"I need a minute," Sean said, gesturing toward the chapel. "Unless you've got microphones and cameras in the flower arrangements," he said to Erica.

"Let it go, Sean. The cameras are out of there. You don't need this today," Christian said, resting his hand on Sean's shoulder. "You want to go in alone?"

"No," he said without hesitation. "Do you mind if we go in first for a few minutes?" Sean asked, mainly directing his question to Matt, but even Erica didn't make waves with that request.

"I'll ask the funeral director to send the early guests into the sitting area," Liz said. "You guys need a few minutes first."

"Thanks, Lizzie," Christian said with a slight smile.

Sean and Christian walked into the chapel, and Christian closed the doors behind them. Sean continued up the aisle. The "stage" was flanked by two large portraits on easels, one of Julia and one of Annie, both framed in ornate silver frames. The frames were wreathed in flowers, Julia's a combination of exotic lilies, orchids, and other white flowers Sean couldn't really identify. The urn holding her ashes sat on a clothed stand in front of the portrait. Sean had chosen the urn himself; it was square, white with silver accents, a large carved silver lily on top, and a nameplate with Julia's name engraved on it. Kimber's choice of flowers complemented it perfectly.

When he'd first seen the urn, it was empty. A pretty empty box that looked like it could be a jewelry box on Julia's dresser as much as a container for her remains. Now, she was encased inside it, and her substantially enlarged likeness looked down on him. When he looked at Christian, there were tears on his cheeks as he looked at Julia's portrait.

Sean moved closer, almost hesitantly reaching out to lay his hand on the urn. In that moment, he could see Julia in her wedding dress, waddling around in her maternity clothes while she was carrying Matt, holding Annie in her arms in the hospital, breast-feeding Conor in the nursery...it was as if their entire relationship spun past him in fast forward, ending in the air conditioned silence of this somewhat sterile environment, reduced to some ashes in an overpriced box.

"I never thought that when we were all in college, our whole lives ahead of us, that one of us would end up like this...not now, not this soon," Sean said, not sure why he wasn't crying, why he hadn't broken down again, because the pain inside him was so massive and so stifling that he felt as if he might explode with the pressure of it. "I just wish I could see her one more time," Sean said, tears coming to his eyes now.

"I do, too," Christian said, his arm around Sean's shoulders. "One of the last times I saw her, I was telling her off, and I never really made things right with her."

"Don't blame yourself for that. We all told each other off at one time or another. The changes we were going through were going to be hard on all of us." He smiled. "It's just hard to believe those three kids we were in college are gone...that it was so long ago. Sometimes I feel like I ruined Julia's life," he admitted, his voice breaking and most of the carefully held controls he'd managed to get in place were disintegrating. "She wanted to be a pediatrician, remember?"

"I remember. You didn't ruin her life, Sean. She chose you. She didn't have to marry you. She didn't have to be with either one of us. She just always was, so I guess that's where she wanted to be. You don't think I feel guilty for not sending her away that night when we made love and Matt was conceived? I don't regret Matt but I regret how it happened. As much as I cared for her, I should have sent her home to you. So much shit would have never happened."

Sean moved away from Julia's portrait and approached Annie's. Decorated in abundant pink sweetheart roses and baby's breath, the portrait looked down on an urn decorated in silver carved roses holding all that was left of her. Sean wasn't prepared for his legs to give way, but he was grateful that Christian was when he caught him and steered him into a chair. Sean buried his face in Christian's shoulder and sobbed, the sight of Annie's portrait too much for him to bear. He knew Christian was crying with him, he could feel the vibration in his body. Despite his own grief, Christian was holding him close, rubbing his back in long strokes, just letting him cry it out. But that was the problem. It didn't feel like the pain or the tears were ever going to slow down, let alone stop. He couldn't even bring himself to look up at the portrait, to look into his daughter's eyes. Eyes that always looked so lovingly and trustingly at him.

"I know it hurts," Christian said. "I miss her, too." He patted Sean's back. "Take your time, it's okay."

"I can't look at her," Sean admitted. "She trusted me to take care of her and when it mattered, I let her die."

"I thought we were past that. You didn't have anything to do with her dying, Sean. It wasn't your fault. You were trying to help Julia get her to school on time. How in hell could you have known?"

"She always believed in me, like I could do anything, even when I let her down, she still looked at me like I was her hero."

"You were, Sean. If she were here now, she'd tell you to stop feeling so bad, and that she loved you. She wouldn't blame you." Christian sniffled, trying to control his own emotions. "You've got to be able to look at the portrait if we're going through with the service," he said gently. His tone wasn't judgmental, but he was right, and Sean knew it. There were people filling up the reception area, and Matt, Erica, and Robert would all want their private moments. "I came prepared," Christian said, handing Sean a handful of tissues.

Sean took them and wiped his eyes and blew his nose, still avoiding looking directly at the portrait of his daughter. All he could see was her standing on the passenger side of the car, smiling and waving to him right before she was blown into a million pieces.

"I think I'm gonna be sick." Sean felt the rising tide of nausea, and fought it for all he was worth.

"I don't have that many tissues," Christian responded, and something in the reply actually made Sean laugh, though it was watery and miserable sounding. Christian started rubbing his back again. "Just breathe for a few minutes. Nice and slow. In and out." Christian was quiet a few minutes before he spoke up again. "We're going to get up in a minute, and we'll look at Annie's picture together, and we'll tell her how much we love her."

"I want to believe in all those stories about angels and Heaven and think that she's somewhere like that."

"She is, Sean. I don't know what I really believe is out there, but I believe she's somewhere peaceful and beautiful. She has to be," he added, his voice strained. "We're going to do this for Julia, and for Annie," he said decisively, and that logic cut through some of the grief fogging Sean's brain.

"And for Matt," he added. "I haven't been there for him the way I should have with this."

"We're all doing the best we can. Even Erica, messed up crazy bitch that she is."

"Don't push it," Sean said, pulling away, swallowing hard and steeling himself to stand on his own two legs again. Christian stood first and held a hand out to Sean, which he took for the upward pull. He still felt shaky, but he made himself stand there and face the rawest pain of all, saying goodbye to his daughter.

He didn't know if it would have been easier to see her laid out in a casket in one of her prettiest dresses, to kiss her goodbye and touch her one more time. Sometimes that seemed worse, and sometimes it seemed as if it would give him comfort. It didn't matter, because she was gone in an instant, the very essence of her destroyed until all that was left was in that little urn with the carved roses.

"Kimber did a beautiful job on the flowers," Christian said, and while part of Sean was horrified that he would bring up such a mundane detail, another part realized he was pulling Sean back into reality. Forcing him to look at flowers and think about the living, maybe to even find some beauty in how the arrangements were handled.

"It looks great. I need to tell her that. All the flowers are beautiful. Julia would have loved this. Annie would have loved all these pink roses." Sean smiled. "I sent her pink roses for her birthday a couple years ago... Little ones, like these. She was so excited when the florist came to the door and the flowers were for her." Sean paused. "Oh, my God. I was dating Kimber at the time. She saw the flowers and talked to Annie about them. How did she remember that?"

"You'll have to tell her you remember, too. It'll mean a lot to her. She always liked Annie."

"Maybe Kimber was right. Maybe she would have made a good stepmother back then, before everything she went through. She bribed Annie forty bucks to tell me that," Sean added, smiling.

"When you guys were going out?"

"Yeah, I guess if she couldn't land one half of the partnership, she was going to settle for seconds. That seems to happen a lot," Sean added. Though the words could have sounded self-pitying, they were said with humor. He didn't feel sorry for himself the way his relationships had turned out. He had Christian, and what they had was more amazing that any other experience in his life. "I love you, princess," he managed, his voice barely coming out with the last word. "I'm not giving Erica my daughter," he said decisively, touching the urn that held Annie's ashes. "If she wants to take Julia's ashes home with her, she's her mother, and maybe the way things are now, it's not right for me to hold onto Julia."

"You want to keep Annie's urn with us? We don't have to scatter the ashes at all if you don't want to."

"I don't want to," Sean said, his hand still on the urn. "I know she's not in this box. But it's all I have left of her."

"We'll take it home with us after the service, and there's where it'll stay forever unless you change your mind. We can always make arrangements in our wills to have Annie's ashes buried with you, or mixed with our ashes someday, however we decided to handle all that. Part of her can be with us forever."

"I'd like that," Sean said, feeling a little stronger. He knew it was illogical to attach so much value to a box of ashes that didn't hold Annie's spirit. They weren't going to run up to him and throw their arms around him, they weren't going to grow into a beautiful young woman he'd walk down the aisle and give away someday. But they were all he had left of Annie, and they were going to stay with him.

"Feeling better?"

"We should go back out there," Sean said, swallowing hard. He looked up and Christian and brushed a couple of tears off his partner's face.

"Do I look okay?" Christian asked, smiling a little.

"We both look like shit," Sean responded. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

They walked out to the reception area and Sean approached Kimber, giving her a hug. "Thank you for Annie's pink roses," he said, stepping back.

"She was so excited about those. I couldn't think of getting her anything else," she said, wiping away tears.

********

On to Part 3