To Your Good Health

Vance noticed that Thaddeus seemed to avoid him even more than he did before Vance had come to terms with his girlfriend's feelings and invited him to stay. It hadn't been easy. His away time wasn't only spent collecting information, intimidating alliances, stealing priceless pieces, and killing the hard to kill. He'd reflected on Finch's reactions to the other man.

Between losing the love of his life or caring for her comfort and safety, Thaddeus McCannady was the least of two evils. An attractive one at that. On the street, Vance might've avoided him due to his looks - pretty ones like that were often rentboys. Rentboys who had harsh words to describe him that ripped him up inside.

'Scarface' had made Finch flare up in his defense, but it was by far the tamest thing he'd been called. In fact, it sort of felt like an endearment coming from the other man. After all, the actual Scarface had wound up the leader of the biggest drug cartel in Florida. Of course, Vance himself wasn't going to lose it all. He wasn't just playing in the states, but all over the world.

Except when he was playing master of the kitchen. He fixed himself and Finch breakfast, glad the morning sickness seemed less harsh as she drew closer to her second trimester.

"He does know he could stay for breakfast, right?" he said, sitting her plate in front of his pyjama clad lady.

"Something, something, busy day, something something, wasn't listening, probably feels uncomfortable," Finch yawned, blinking up at him. "Have you always been able to cook? This looks amazing."

"A bit here and there," Vance said. "Picking up more instead of eating out while I'm on the job. Hate to get caught while I'm popping down for some korma. Baby bird happy this morning?"

Finch gave him a bashful smile, wrinkling her nose. "Think so. I'm still tired, but I think everyone's doing okay." She reached over to touch his hand. "We both missed you, though."

"I missed you, too," Vance said, sitting across from her at the island. "I was worried about you. Both of you, which is why I let Thad back. I hope you're not sore with me."

She huffed out a breath, looking up at the ceiling. "I was cross with you, a little. And I was cross at my papa for letting him live here in the first place. I know you're all worried, but sometimes it makes me feel a bit-" Finch blushed, sucking in her lip. "A bit smothered. Like I can't look after myself."

"Of course you can look after yourself," Vance said. "But I know you.. get lonely." He took a bite of food. "And you're hardheaded."

"I am not hardheaded! If anything it's the two of you who are unreasonable. Just moving in because you feel like it," Finch replied with a sulky look. "It's okay. If I get lonely. I can handle it. I-I just- I thought I was just supposed to be, y'know, with you. Like, commitment and all that."

"You are with me," Vance said, reaching back for her hand. He tangled their fingers together. "You're marrying me. Not him. Having my kid, not his. So you've made a friend. A friend you like a bit more than friends. Books end in happily ever after, Finch, but real lives keep going."

"I know, I know. I still feel a bit like I'm cheating," Finch whispered, blushing. She rubbed her free hand over her stomach absentmindedly. "And it's the oddest time to pick someone up, y'know, all pregnant and whatnot."

"You look lovely pregnant," Vance laughed. "It's not cheating if we're honest, is it? I snogged him, too."

"Yeah, thanks for that. No, really, thank you. It was worth the ten minute lecture on how he's soooo 'not gay', although if you'd seen him with Bran you'd think otherwise," Finch giggled. She took a bite of her own meal, happy she was no longer as queasy during the day. "What's going to be done about his family? They threatened me. They'll threaten the baby."

"Honestly not sure," Vance admitted. "I'm still taking a lot of direction from your Mum. I know the stuff that needs to be done to make things run smooth, to fix the hiccups, but cutting out an entire faction? We'd have to be ready to move in on each and every one of their operations. Place people we trust in those holes."

"Long burn," Finch sighed, chewing thoughtfully. She shrugged. "I'm sure Mum will come up with something. I just, I keep remembering how that woman looked. How she threatened me- us- said the world was so much bigger than Moriarty. I was afraid."

"The world is bigger than one man, or one woman, she was right. It's why we don't work alone. Live alone. Or even.. sleep alone?" Vance offered with a smirk.

Finch's smile turning into a cautious smile that was more than a little murderous. "And who are you sleeping with when you're off travelling?"

"Thomas Knight and Dederick House, at the moment. Thomas snores something awful," Vance replied. "Wretched. Why, my little bird, were you expecting something else?"

"Well, if you're pushing me at someone else, maybe there's someone you'd like to tell me about," Finch said primly, pushing her food around her plate, suddenly not interested in eating.

"Yeah, sure," Vance said, challenge in his eye. "She's got red hair, a swollen belly that I put there, and she's suspicious that I'm too welcoming to an enemy lout. If she weren't accidentally knocked up by our delicious fucking, I'd have her at my side in the field because evidently she is more capable than she let on, but as it is, I deal with two body guards, both of whom are older men who would cut my cock off if I made a pass at them... if I were interested. As it stands, I've rather made a commitment, no?"

Finch glared at him, embarrassed yet pleased by his little speech. She blushed as red as her mother's hair. "Why would you want me to be with someone else if you didn't also want that? I don't understand."

"Because you're happier, Finch," Vance sighed, smiling softly at her. "Look at you. You love fussing with him, and coming back to me. You love having someone to hold you when I can't. You smile and you have found passions you never had before. Tattooing and art and the people you've met through it. Maybe a year ago, I might've been content to follow you into that line of work, but darling, I would've frightened your customers, not drawn them in to look at a pretty face."

"I think you do have a pretty face," Finch murmured, reaching out to cup his cheek. "Your scar would've helped you with business. You'd get all the bad arse men in."

"Do you want more bad arse men in?" Vance asked teasingly as he held his hand over hers. "I can kick Thad back out again tonight. It does bring me pleasure to watch him flounder."

"I think it might be mean to do that. It's supposed to get cold, and I can't afford the heating in the shop," Finch said, chewing her lip. "And- And he's already afraid, I think, that he doesn't live here. Can't kick him out so soon after all that stuff."

Vance turned to kiss her palm. "Soft-heart," he murmured. "Keep your pet. He doesn't scare me, Finch. I know you love me. I can only hope you can trust in yourself enough that I feel the same, and that if there is anyone else for me - let it be Thaddeus."

"You- You want Thaddeus, too?" Finch squeaked, blinking at him in surprise.

"Problem?" Vance asked, brow raised. "I know where my heart lies, but he isn't repulsive."

"No, I just, y'know, thought you didn't um, do that sort of thing," Finch said, blushing her way through the sentence.

"What sort? Men?" Vance asked, genuinely curious about her thoughts about him.

"Um, yes. Men," Finch said, looking away.

Vance laughed. "Before you took me in, I'd been with a handful of people. Never really thought about how many, never counted. Boys, girls, in between. It was people I felt comfortable with, or ones I thought would keep me safe. There wasn't love out there, not really. When winter got cold, if I was having it off with a bloke and he had a place? It wasn't much to curl up behind him and keep warm through the night," he snorted. "I'm not asking for Thad's arse or anything. He's an attractive bloke, once you get past his pitiful origins. It's more than he's told you, love. Being a pacifist is only an excuse. He's just as dangerous as you or I."

"I'm not dangerous," Finch sulked, propping her chin up on her hand. "What sort of dark origins? I want to know."

"Pitiful, not dark," Vance corrected. "His father was the next in line for taking over the McCannady's territory, and his mother was the only granddaughter of the Black Lotus collective. The old bitch slaughtered his mother after he was born - day of, actually, and in retaliation, his father was eventually found and caught out by an assassin. His parents had planned to run away together, leave the life, but instead Thad was raised by his grandparents. I rather assume he hates them as much as we do."

Finch felt all the blood steal away from her face, feeling instantly sorry for the miscreant in her shop. "Oh. Oh, that's wretched." She gulped. Even though she still thought Vance's story was worse, although that might've just been because she loved him, Thad's story touched her. "I can't imagine that. I mean, I didn't have grandparents, so I guess I wouldn't know, but that's awful."

"Being the dandy flirt is safer, easier, and a far more fantasy life than the pressure of becoming the leader of two rival gangs," Vance said. "I can respect his choice to run from it. Just as I ran head long into it."

"You know, if you're keen on exploring this 'into men' thing, you could've just always adopted Bran rather than bring in a rival gang," Finch suggested sweetly. "The way you're doing it seems so much more complicated and Bran is actually gay-"

And is actually in love with you. "And Thad isn't," Vance reminded her, taking a drink of his orange juice. "Which I believe is more up your alley. Unless you want me to shag your ruddy cousin out of Spence's life?"

"Nah, that would be mean to Spencer. And Bran doesn't like you very much, but he doesn't like anyone much lately," Finch sighed, poking her eggs. "I want ice cream."

"He loves your brother," Vance said, going to the freezer. "Eat at least half that. If you're that worried about it all, don't sleep with Thad. I'm not shagging anyone else. Just you. Promise, cross my heart, and hope to die." He thunked a pint of ice cream down beside Finch's elbow.

Finch speared her eggs, looking up at him with big sad eyes. "It's not my fault the baby wanted-"

"There's plenty of ice cream," Vance assured her, hugging her from behind. He stroked his large hand over her bump. "And a chef on speed dial you know you can call any time and he'll come running. Tell my baby bird to behave, her mummy needs her vitamins."

"I wouldn't put it past you to grind them up and put them in the ice cream," Finch said smartly, leaning her head back on his chest. She angled her face up for a kiss, waiting for him to bend down. "I'll make sure she stays healthy."

Vance blinked. "She?" he asked, tilting his head. "Did we just-?"

"Oh! Um, whoops. Sorry, at my last scan they, I mean, I meant to surprise you," Finch whined.

Vance pressed their lips together, inhaling sharply as he hummed in delight. "A baby girl," he sighed, pecking kisses against her lips.

"Yeah, something cute and small for you to spoil to death," Finch teased, feeling warm and comforted. Like a contented mama cat. "We'll have to start setting up the nursery soon. And clothes!" For both her and the child.

"Yes, yes, yes," Vance said. "But first-" He pulled out his mobile. "I'm calling out, and we're going to spend all day on the sofa."

"Hmm, I should like that," Finch said, taking her ice cream and leaving the eggs to head for the large couch in the living room. "Nice relaxing day in. Does that mean you're leaving again soon? You only call out if you're leaving soon."

"Not for another week, at least," Vance promised. "I don't like leaving, love. I just don't have a second that can work like your Uncle Jack."

"I know," Finch replied, settling among her pillows with her treat. "I'm allowed to be sad. Not today, of course, but I'm allowed to understand and still be sad."

Vance curled up beside her flicking on an old movie. "Today, we're happy," he said. "We're having a daughter."

***

Brandon had acquiesced to the damn kid's demands that he start seeing someone else for treatment after he spent one evening tossing up a very expensive dinner he'd prepared that he should've been fine eating. Of course, he'd never let Spencer know it. Gorgeous moron would be too happy to gloat and fuss over him, and the baby needed more fussing than Brandon did. So he'd gone to a private doctor, he'd had blood drawn and a new medical history all taken up, and he'd even given them his work address and cell phone number so as not to alert the genius that he'd actually listened for once.

"Yeah," Brandon said into the phone, lips numb. He pulled out a chair and sat down. The doctor kept speaking, but his ears were buzzing. "And you're sure? I mean, we already did this once- yeah, yeah, I understand. Alrigh'. Yeah, thanks, thanks a lot! No, no, just kind of in shock, I think. Yeah, I'll be fine." A smile cracked his marble features. "I'll be bloody brilliant, thanks!" 

He closed the phone. The cafe outside was locked up and deserted as far as he knew, shift already ended for the day. He was alone.

And he was well. 

More than well, he was healthy. Perfect. Nothing wrong with him, no disease. No HIV, no early death- nothing. Just... healthy. 

[where are you? Li keeps shouting for you - SH]

Brandon shook his head, fingers trembling as he typed back, [Fine. Work. Home soon. -B]

Spencer rang out anyway. He had a fussy toddler on his hands, and one who would not eat food not made by 'Bananadon'.

Brandon ignored the call, already dialing his mother. He tapped his fingers nervously on the table.

"Love?" Freya said, voice sleepy. She'd been dozing on the sofa by the fire.

"Mum, I've got news," Brandon managed, his voice croaking. He felt warm, too warm. Too excited. Too afraid to believe.

"More news?" Freya said, sitting up from her comfy blanket. The cottage was strangely quiet. "What is it, sweetheart?"

"I'm not sick, Mum," Brandon croaked, and a giggle slipped out. "I'm not- I don't have- I'm not sick. They checked. Twice."

"What?" Freya said, breath catching. She covered her mouth. "Baby, are you certain?"

"I went to a private practitioner. He said he's checked, Mum. He's sure, he says," Brandon replied breathlessly. "Everything, it's too much. I feel like I'm going to fly."

"Oh, sweetie, darling," Freya said, tears welling up. "You were on meds for ages. How did they get it wrong?"

"He said sometimes tests come up false. He- He said he's sure," Brandon said, putting his head down on the table before the rushing blood in his head made him fall over. "I can stop the meds, stop feeling like shit all the time. He said it's fine."

"Brandon, that's wonderful," Freya breathed. She was overcome with relief, up until mother-mode kicked in. "Don't you dare think this is the chance to go back to bringing home every bloody thing that winks your way!"

"Mummerz, Mumzie, Mumzilla, could you please save the lecture for tomorrow? I'm not going to go bloody blowin' everything that I've worked for- ha ha, blowin'. I didn't even think about it before I said it," Brandon snickered. "I've got to go. I should go home, he said the baby won't eat."

"Yes, sweetheart," Freya sighed, grateful her son's thoughts went to the stray kid. "Go home, feed him up."

"I will. I love you, Mum. Tell Mare-mare for me so she won't worry anymore," Bran said, but he made no move to stand.

"Yes, yes, I'll tell everyone. Mary and your dad, too," Freya replied, getting out from under her warm blanket. "Go tell your own little family, too. I love you, darling. Please, please be careful, my love."

"I'm always careful, love you, Mum!" Bran said, ending the call before she could say anything else. Healthy. What did that even mean anymore?

Freya went and crawled in bed with Mary, noting the absence of Sebastian. "Where's the hubby?" she asked.

"Oh, who knows anymore. I think he went somewhere with Jack," Mary hummed, turning to hug Freya tight. "I'm frightfully ignored anymore."

"Well, you're now third to know that Brandon is.. is," Freya hiccuped. "Clear. Healthy. He's.. Mare, they got it wrong."

"My darling, that's fabulous news!" Mary breathed, trying to squeeze Freya even closer. "I'm so pleased to hear it. He's certain this time?"

"Says so anyway," Freya said. "My baby is healthy, Mare. False results, the practitioner said. Can you get Jack to see if it's really true? I'm frightened for him."

"I'll have him start on it straightaway." Mary promised. She slid her hands down to cup Freya's small bum. "I'm certainly pleased to believe Spencer is a little bit more safe now. Not to be selfish, but I was concerned."

Freya wriggled, happy to have Mary-the-lover with her. "No, love, you're right. I never would've forbid them from it, but with little Finch taking after you, it would've broken my heart for poor Spence. Especially with the little baby he's taken on. Are you certain Spence can handle that?"

"Not at all, but he seems convinced. I'm rather sure he can't handle it, but he'll learn. I just hope he doesn't hurt the poor girl too much. You know how the Holmeses are, wretchedly mean," Mary bit gently at Freya's neck. Freya whimpered at the bite.

"You spawned the brat," she said, rocking against Mary. She tugged at Mary's hair, encouraging. "Mmph, is this a good idea? Leaving them alone to grow up?"

"Of course it is. When am I ever wrong?" Mary teased, scooting down to suck at the pale white skin just over Freya's left breast (once she'd rucked her shirt up, of course).

"Aah!" Freya gasped with a blissful smile on her face. "Never, love. Ah, Mary!" She scooted Mary to where she wanted her, just there. "Fffuck. Yes." Her mind was gone under the mouth of her lover. Seb would just have to discover two sated women curled around one another.

***

Spencer had Liam on his knee. They'd never bothered getting a high chair, just a booster seat since he was getting too old for it anyway. Spencer had eggs in his hair, and noodles on his three hundred pound shirt. He was trying to convince Liam to try a bite of banana. 

"Nuh!" Liam said, letting the bite of food fall out of his mouth onto Spencer's open palm.

"You've got to eat something," Spencer said.

"NUH!" Liam repeated, trying to wriggle out of the young man's lap.

Brandon half ran up the stairs at the sound of the noise. "Oi, oi, what's goin' on in here?"

Spencer's face melted in relief.

"I've tried everything and I'm wearing everything," Spencer whined. "Bran, help?"

"BANANADON!" Liam roared, trying to practically fly out of Spencer's arms.

"He hasn't had a nap or slowed down all day long," Spencer said, looking like he was ready to pull out his hair.

"Did he eat? He's always sleepy after you feed him," Brandon said, catching Liam up. "You've been naughty! You're to be nice to Spencer."

"He's said everything is gross, even things you fixed," Spencer sighed, picking the egg out of his hair. "Impossible little bugger."

Liam just giggled.

"I think he was just cross you were late," Spencer said, dropping the half chewed banana onto a plate. "You're nearly always home for dinner. What kept you?"

"Um, worked late," Brandon said, reaching in the cupboard for a biscuit. He leaned his forehead against Liam's. "You eat this, and sit nicely on his lap, and I'll make supper."

Liam instantly popped the biscuit into his mouth, drooling on it slightly. "Bananmon," he mumbled around the biscuit.

"Bran, you've got to be tired, you don't have to cook," Spencer said.

"We're feasting today!" Brandon said giddily, passing the child back to Spencer. "There's a good lad, sit tight. Homemade Chinese, I think I have all the ingredients."

"Feast?" Spencer said. "What's the occasion? Some big client roll in?"

"Um, tell you later," Brandon avoided, pulling out the food he needed. "How was today?"

"Good, tiring," Spencer said, holding Liam back in his lap. "Abs is down talking to Finch tonight, I think. I told her to get out and have a break for awhile. We all love the lad, but I was out this morning, so I figured we'd swap off. I'm back in touch with Allen though, with the Met, you remember?"

"Isn't he the bloke who failed you?" Brandon asked, chopping veg.

"Yeah," Spencer said. "But he's in domestics now, having me look at a few cases. Weirder ones, you know? Seems the new recruits aren't quite as brilliant on the uptake as he expected."

Brandon snorted, waggling his eyebrows at the boy. "No one is as smart as Spencer, right, Liam?"

"Yea!" Liam agreed, not entirely following, but happy to have more people home.

"God, this kid," Spencer said, kissing his dark hair. "I love him to death, but he's exhausting. Where does all the energy come from?" He sniffed the air. "That smells good. Mm, garlic?"

"Of course. Makes the lo mein better," Brandon replied. He bent to kiss Liam's soft hair, too, before returning to work. "Besides, it's good for you."

[Spencer. Has he told you? - MM]

[told me what? - sh]

"Bran?" Spencer said, baby in one arm, phone in the other hand.

"Yeah?" Brandon replied, having not seen Spencer look at his text.

"Something you wanna tell me?" Spencer asked, voice going low and suspicious.

"No? What are you talking about?" Brandon asked, turning to look at Spencer with concern.

[Behave - MM]

Spencer frowned as he looked between his phone and his lover. "Why is my mum telling me to behave?" he asked. "And what aren't you telling me?"

"Oh, bollocks, of course my mother told your mother," Brandon swore, thankful some of the awkward pressure was taken off of him. "It's um, I just wanted time. It's new."

"Yes, our mums are a couple of gossiping bored hens, now spill," Spencer said.

"Spill!" Liam echoed, knocking over an empty sippy cup.

"I'm clean," Brandon said, without looking at Spencer. He started to stir some vegetables in a wok.

"What?" Spencer asked, picking up the cup.

"Healthy. You know. Free," Brandon murmured, giving his long hair a shake. "Not dying."

Spencer picked Liam up, strapping him back into the booster seat and scooted him up to the table. He placed a hand on Brandon's back. "Bran? Look at me."

"Cookin'. Don't want your dinner to burn," Brandon said in a choked tone.

"Let it burn," Spencer said. "Bran, you weren't dirty."

"No, no, I know, but it's a phrase. False test results the first time," Brandon said, risking a glance back. He gave him a wobbly smile. "Not sick."

"I knew it," Spencer said. "All those meds. They were just making you sick. Making you sick when you weren't. You went to the doctor I picked out?"

"Um, yes, I had, actually," Brandon hummed, swirling food around the hot pan. "He tested, and then retested, and I'm able to cease all medications as I am not sick. Not even a cold."

"Bran, Brandon," Spencer said, catching up his cousin's hands, turning him away from the food. "Look at me!"

Brandon's chiseled face turned to look at Spencer, eyes glassy like he was on the verge of tears. "Spencer-"

Spencer leaned up on his toes, kissing Brandon on the mouth. "Bran," he breathed. "You aren't dying." His bottom lip wibbled a bit as he ran his fingers through Brandon's locks.

"Dock-er?" Liam asked.

"Not anymore," Spencer told the boy. "All good."

"Good, good, good," Liam sang.

"I'm not dying," Brandon agreed, laughing. "I'm not dying." He couldn't say it enough. His skilled hands gave the noodles another stir. "Almost ready, then. Liam, are you hungry? What has he been feeding you?"

"Banana," Liam said with a huge scowl.

"What am I meant to feed him?!" Spencer said with faux-exasperation. He winked at the kid. He couldn't stop smiling though as he picked up the sippy cup to refill with fresh water.

"There is baby food, clearly labeled- for God's sake, there are puffy snacks just there in that tube. Can you read?" Bran asked, shaking his head.

"Yes, I'm wearing part of that baby food. This shirt cost three hundred pounds at Westwood," Spencer scowled. The smell was heavenly and he was starving. "Babies are not style helpful."

Liam gave Brandon a look that said 'fuck-him-i'm-fabulous-bitch'.

"Wear a smock?" Bran suggested, plating the noodles, a small portion cut up small and handed to the child to play with. He leaned close to Liam's ear. "For every one you get in his hair, I'll give you a biscuit."

Liam giggled, stuffing noodles into his mouth.

"Don't encourage him!" Spencer hissed. "Sit, sit, come here."

Brandon put a plate down for both of the adult males and did as Spencer asked him, sitting next to him. He was too giddy to eat but he gave Spencer a stern look. "Eat your dinner."

"Eat yours," Spencer said, breathless. He picked up his fork, but kept looking between Liam and Brandon. He took a bite, savoring the noodles. "The things I'm thinking right now-" he murmured, slipping his hand over Brandon's knee underneath the table.

"Yeah? What sort of things?" Brandon asked with a cheeky eyebrow raised. He slurped up his noodles with a loud noise, puckering his sculpted mouth.

"Things my mother was most likely warning me against," Spencer said, eyes alight. He licked his lips, taking another slow bite as he tucked his hand closer up Brandon's thigh. "Mind your words, Bran. He's smarter than he lets on."

Liam was watching them intently as he grabbed tiny fistfuls of noodles, bringing them to his mouth.

"You're the one doing things he might see!" Brandon chuckled. His eyes leveled on Spencer, bright. "Besides, shouldn't we wait? Triple test, maybe? I don't want to risk another false answer."

"Another doctor? Third times the charm?" Spencer asked, practically panting for it. He bit his lip. "Do you have any idea how much I dream about-"

"Bandon," Liam said. "Bandon ish happy." He flung a bit of noodles Spencer's way.

"Good boy! Right on top," Brandon reached up to pick a noodle out of Spencer's hair. "One biscuit earned." He leaned over to tickle the child. "Brandon is beyond happy, little man. Ecstatic. Excited. Alive. Giddy?"

Spencer rolled his eyes. "Careful, Bran. They only keep about four hundred or so words at that age," he cautioned. "I think he's probably double that. Let him eat so he'll settle."

"Aw, Spencer doesn't like it when you're a terror," Brandon sulked, patting Liam's head. "He's just worried I like you best."

Liam gave him a toothy smile.

"He certainly likes you best," Spencer snorted. "Probably because he thinks you're a girl. Oh, God! The way your mum was with him. I thought she and my mum were going to tuck him under a blanket and say 'what baby?'."

Bran giggled, taking another bite of food. "They wish they lived closer so they could manage our lives better. I had to talk them out of moving back last time I saw them."

"We can manage our lives," Spencer said. "Alright, little man, ready for a bath?"

Liam scowled a bit, but his noodles and veg had quickly disappeared into his mouth leaving behind an empty bowl.

"Give him love, Bran, so I can go put him down. Abs finally got that crib-cot thing set up. It's a bit of a squeeze right now, but I figure we can pass it onto Finch afterwards."

Brandon lifted the child out of his booster seat. "I am giving him love, I always give him love. Bath time for the little one. We'll play with that duckie I bought you."

Liam squealed in delight, grabbing Brandon happily. He snuggled right up to Brandon's neck, arms wrapping around his tall caregiver. Spencer went to pick out pyjamas and make up the cot. The room felt so strange. He'd had to move out so many things into hall closets and into the den. Dangerous items got put up on high shelves, and kink gear - he'd sold off some of it, knowing it would never be used. The rest was packed away or still in Brandon's possession along with the leather collar and riding crop.

Spencer's heart twinged at the loss of that connection. The darkness.

The thoughts were pushed away as a clean toddler was brought into the room with a dopey grin and sleepy eyes. "Here, I got him fireman jim-jams," Spencer said.

"Fire man jim-jams!" Brandon said to Liam with a high, excited voice. "Isn't that nice? Say thank you, Spencer."

"Fank you, Pen," Liam replied as he was quickly dressed.

"You're welcome, little man," Spencer said, picking him up to kiss his little clean cheeks until he giggled. "Bed time," he said. "Say goodnight."

"Mnphit," Liam muttered.

"Tired little git."

"Night-night," Brandon said, putting the child down in the bed, patting his head before deciding to kiss the little bugger anyway. He turned and went for the living room, feeling an electric sort of spark rolling off of Spencer.

Spencer gently left the door cracked.

"Have I still got noodle in my hair?" he asked, unbuttoning his dirty shirt.

"No, I think you've got it all," Brandon said with a grin, standing in the middle of the sitting room, looking as though he didn't know where to go. He was too happy to sit down, to excited to go upstairs.

Spencer dropped his shirt on the floor and pounced. He was on Brandon, pushing him back towards the sofa, hands roaming and lips questing over soft tender skin of Brandon's neck as he practically straddled him, teeth nipping harder than usual. Brandon groaned, fighting back with bites of his own, sucking hard on Spencer's throat to leave a mark.

"Spencer-"

"Shh," Spencer hissed into Brandon's ear. "Baby in the next room. Deliciously illicit, isn't it?" he breathed as he rucked up Brandon's shirt. His mouth went to Brandon's sucking a lip into his mouth before biting the plush bit of skin.

"Ah-" Brandon tried to moan quietly but it wasn't working. He was already sweating, having deprived himself so much during his supposed illness. He kissed Spencer so hard their teeth practically gnashed together. Spencer tasted blood and bit harder, suckling at Brandon's flesh as he nearly ripped open Brandon's trousers.

"I tried to be even with you both," Spencer panted softly. "But she's taken up so much.. time. Gonna have you.."

"Protection," Brandon hissed back, thrusting up at even the hint of being touched. "Can't risk it-"

"You said checked," Spencer argued. "Clean. Want to taste you." He licked at Brandon's mouth. "Don't take it from me."

"Not yet, I can't risk you-" Bran protested, bringing a large thin hand up to touch Spencer's face. "I can't risk you."

"Brandon," Spencer whined, reaching for Bran's cock. His smaller hand wrapped around hot, turgid flesh. "Fine, where's something?"

"Your room? The desk drawer? I don't even know anymore," Brandon panted, eyes rolling back in his head. "Oh, guh-fuck-go-Spencer!"

Spencer growled. "Don't fuckin' move."

He rushed to the bathroom. There was some under the sink, he knew. Sex with Abby had been hurried or secretive now with Liam in the house. He made a snap decision, grabbing a small bottle of lube. Fumbling with his own wool trousers, he had his fingers inside himself, twisting and panting. He caught the wild look in his eyes in the mirror, before dashing back out, completely nude except for his socks. He had a condom packet between his teeth and a bottle in his hand.

"Spence?" Brandon sat up, reaching for him with a bewildered expression on his face. "What are you-"

"I said don't move. Breaking the rules," Spencer said, tossing the supplies beside him on the sofa. He had his hands back down in Brandon's pants, pulling everything down his hips. His slim cock was standing high and proud. He poured liquid silk out of the bottle and slicked Brandon well. "Prep me, fast."

Brandon started to shake his head. "You don't know what you're asking-"

Spencer shot forward to bite Brandon's neck. "Hell you do," he snarled. "Fingers up my arse now, and don't you dare make it hurt, or I'll hurt you twice as badly."

Eyes wide, slipping down into a submissive state, he took the lube from Spencer to slick his own fingers. He teased over Spencer's puckered hole before pushing in. "Okay?"

Spencer pushed back, arching. He nodded, sweat beading down him despite the cold. "More," he demanded. "I'm not some ickle sub."

"It'll hurt," Brandon replied but he pushed in a second finger roughly. He was ready to burst as it was. "Fuck. Fuck, Spencer."

Spencer bit his lips, rocking back and forth on slick fingers before forcing Brandon out. "As if you're the first thing up there," he said, ripping open the condom and slipping it down on Brandon's cock. "This is mine," he growled, twisting himself to press down - hard - on his lover. It was a bit more shocking than the toy, very much more real than his fantasies, but he grabbed Brandon's wrists and pressed them against the back of the sofa as he hissed around the fullness. Brandon cried out, mouth hanging open. He whimpered as his cock sunk into hot, wet flesh, thrusting forward without even thinking.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Bran moaned. Spencer shoved the heel of his hand into Brandon's open mouth.

"I said be quiet," he repeated. "Don't wake the kid." He flexed around Brandon, eyes fluttering. "You're bigger than the toy."

"Mmph," Brandon sucked on Spencer's hand with a choking groan. He rocked up again, pushing deeper into Spencer. Deeper. He bit down on the flesh under Spencer's thumb. Spencer tried not to shout- failing as he slammed up and down, grinding himself on Brandon.

Spencer panted, fussed and struggled until Brandon's cock was rolling over his prostate again and again. It was almost painful as he let go of Brandon's other wrist to wank himself.

"More!" he demanded, bouncing harder. He was so close.

Bran's slim but strong hips pistoned in and out of Spencer, no rhythm, just seeking release. He bit down on Spencer's hand again, tongue laving over the sweet sore spot. Spencer cried out, hand barely on his prick as he spilled all over Brandon's stomach. He still rode Brandon, riding the aftershocks, forcing his hand harder against sharp teeth, feeling them prick harder and harder against his flesh.

Brandon came with a sob and a hard bite, tears gathering at the edges of his eyes. He thrust until his soft cock could push no more. "Sp-Spencer-"

Spencer grasped Brandon's hair, snogging him deeply, feeling the soft cock fall from him, his body gaping with its loss. "One more doctor," Spencer said. "One more, and your cock and your come and your blood, it's all mine. Do you understand?"

"Yeah," Bran sighed dreamily, heart pumping in his chest. "Just yours, Spencer."

Spencer got up, noticed his hand was bleeding. "Hmm," he smirked. "Clean it up."

"Get off me and I'll get a flannel," Brandon said, still panting.

Spencer nearly stumbled, but flopped over to the side. He winced as his bum hit the sofa. He pulled the blanket from the back of the couch over himself. Brandon took a moment in the bathroom to clean himself off, and then he came back with the first aid kit. He took Spencer's hand gently in his own and started cleaning it with an antibiotic spray.

"You'll tell me if it gets infected," Bran said.

"Will not," Spencer griped. "Sfine. Don't lecture me. My arse hurts."

Brandon bandaged his hand all the same and then leaned forward to kiss Spencer. "Have a shower. You reek of sex, and you can't sleep in that room smelling like that."

Spencer reached for Brandon to bring him back. "Can't sleep in that room forever," he murmured, nearly high off the orgasmic chemistry. He petted Brandon's hair, leaning up to kiss him again. "Love you, peacock. Love you and your gorgeous cock and your brilliant cooking. I don't want to wash your smell off me."

Bran snickered, half-purring at being pet like a cat. "You can't sleep in that room forever, but with his mum gone you'll need to stay within earshot. I love you, too, Spencer."

"Wear your hair braided tomorrow so everyone can see where I've marked you up," Spencer sighed. He got up, stretching languidly. He nuzzled Brandon's face, affectionate. "Miss this. A bit dirty, a bit rough. Makes me feel alive. I'll go have my wash." He nudged against Brandon's face once more, stealing another kiss as he draped the blanket artfully over his disheveled body.

"Hey," Brandon caught Spencer's wrist, stopping him. "It doesn't have to stop being dirty. Just because you've got-" Brandon looked towards the bedroom door. "It doesn't have to stop. Your mum is still plenty kinky with all of us underfoot."

Spencer looked uncertain. He nodded slowly. He raised his bitten hand. "Wear your collar for me, sometimes?" he asked, pleading in his eyes.

"Yeah, of course," Brandon said, giving him a heartbreakingly sweet smile. "Don't worry." He chuckled, because, today, his words were true. "Everything is going to be fine."

Spencer turned back for one more kiss. It was glorious, sweet, sore. Despite his complaints, he loved the ache inside him. "Yeah, yeah, it might just be," Spencer said. "I should check he's asleep and not scarred for life." He laughed, a bit shy now.

"Go on. I'm turning in. Long day, good sex. I'm fuckin' knackered." Brandon's lip pulled to the side, wishing he could sleep with Spencer near the baby, like a family. But him and Abby weren't friends. And he doubted she'd take it well if she came home and had no where to sleep. "Might watch telly first."

"Alright," Spencer said. He headed to the lav, poking his head in through the bedroom side door and saw Liam asleep with his fingers in his mouth. He smiled at the boy and went for a shower. He had to keep his hand out of the water, but everything stung beautifully.

He dressed in the softest flannel pyjamas he had, skipping a shirt. He crawled into his bed, already drawn towards sleep. He nearly picked Liam up, missing someone to cuddle with, but he was afraid to wake the boy. Spencer finally began to doze. Everything was sensitive. Brandon was healthy. He was healthy, and Spencer's and the blond was filling Spencer's half-dreams with pleasure.

Meet the Family, Little Boy

Abby stared out at the mansion Spencer's family called a cottage, eyes wide and insides confused. In just a few short months she'd gone from a bad-ass criminal tattooist with her own shop to a stay-at-home mum with a dominatrix boyfriend. Now she was meeting the family, and she'd never been the sort to meet anyone's family. Bran had forced her straight hair into some ridiculous wavy style that made her look stupidly soft (where had he even gotten a curling iron?) and dressed her in clean jeans and a plaid button-up shirt with a stupid looking heart pendant peeking out. She felt silly and weird. She looked like a bloody mum, that's for true.

"I feel weird," Abby complained to Spencer.

"You look lovely," Spencer said, pulling Liam from the car seat. They'd bought a car seat. "Your hair, it looks- " He smiled as the sleepy boy's head rested on his shoulder. "It looks good. Brandon's had a lot of odd jobs. We all have really."

He closed the door, nodding to the house. Seb's car was parked out front.

"Looks like they've fixed up the front yard again. Father had it dug up at one point. Mum had hidden all sorts of cherub sculptures. I think half of them got rigged with bombs," Spencer laughed. "Trust me, a baby will do them good. Oh, and the steps are gone.."

The stairs had been replaced with a cement slope.

"Ah, for your mum, then?" Abby asked, taking the baby from him so she could cuddle it. "I wonder how she's takin' it."

"Yeah, not well," Spencer said. "She's always been like.. a bird. Flying off at the drop of a hat. It's why it's so important for my dads and her lovers to make peace in this place. Her health's going. Liam really brightened her up though. New life, new potential."

He opened the front door- again like most things - completely open. As if anyone would make an attempt with the sheer amount of guns hidden inside the deceptively charming home. "Stay in the foyer while I figure out where Dad - erm, John, is. He's the one we're here to surprise."

"I don't trust the way she's bouncing around the window. She's never so excited-" John's voice could be heard from the sitting room. He was relaxed in his old chair with a closed book on his knee.

"I know something you don't know," Mary sang back.

"And just what is that, Mummy?" Spencer teased, poking his head into the room.

"Spencer!" Sherlock said from his chair across from John's.

"Ah, my darling child promised me a visit, that's what," Mary grinned, eyes glimmering with mischief.

"Spencer," John said, standing to embrace his son. "Since when do you love your mum more than your old dad? You never come to see us unless she asks."

Spencer kissed his dad on the cheek. "Since Mum comes to London to see me once in awhile," he said, patting John on the shoulder. "Hello, Father. Besides, Mum's not the only one with surprises."

"Oh?" John asked, suspicious expression in his eyes that was usually reserved for Sherlock. "What sort of surprises have you brought today? You've not gone and contracted something, or gotten arrested, have you?"

"Not today, my dear Dad," he said, grinning. "It's just, I've had this girlfriend for awhile, and well, things have gotten slightly more serious. Abby?"

Sherlock took off his reading glasses, setting aside his tablet. "The criminal?"

"If you could please just refrain from saying that particular word in reference to," Mary murmured, watching Abby bashfully bring the little boy in. Mary reached out her arms. "May I?"

"Is that, um, her younger brother?" John asked, eyes wide.

"Maumum," Liam said sleepily.

"No, Dad, that's her son, Liam," Spencer said, beaming at her. He moved over to help Liam into Mary's lap. "That's a good lad." He brushed his straight hair down. Mary nuzzled the soft thing, cuddling her new best friend.

"Mary?" Sherlock asked, head tilted suspiciously.

"Hush," Spencer hissed quietly. He took Abby by the arm. "Dad, this is Abby. My girlfriend."

"It's nice to meetcha, Mr. Holmes," Abby said, blushing, looking down at her sneakers.

"Isn't she charming?" Mary hummed gently, beaming. Truthfully, if it hadn't been for Liam, she would've probably had the girl murdered.

Spencer beamed proudly, looking from Abby to John, before leaning down to kiss her on the cheek. "We took in little Liam after Mum got him back from the - well, the story's not mine to tell, but we've taken him in," he said.

Sherlock abandoned his chair, instantly drawn to the most truly interesting thing in the room - the baby.

"But you're hardly even twenty years old," John objected breathlessly, the stunned feeling in his chest making it difficult to speak.

"You went to war at my age," Spencer said, eyes narrowed and an unhappy frown pulling down at the corners of his mouth. "A girlfriend and a baby is hardly going to kill me."

"Statistically," Sherlock said, waggling his fingers at Liam.

"Da!" Spencer shot off. "Besides, Bran is there, too, to help out, and we're making it. I thought you and Father would be happy that I've found something important to me."

"I could- I could wait outside," Abby suggested, feeling a bit like she should escape.

"No, no, it's um, fine. I'll make some tea, shall I?" John said tensely, heading for the kitchen. Mary giggled.

"He always makes tea when he's upset. He'll come back in a very good mood," Mary promised Abby.

"He's English," Spencer said, patting her softly. "Unlike my own flesh and blood-"

"Hello, little experiment," Sherlock said to Liam. The boy's large green-hazel eyes were watching the new stranger. Liam was drooling over two fingers again, shy. He was pressed close to Mary.

"Aba?" Liam said, wrapping wet fingers in Mary's shirt.

"I'm just here, sweethear'. This is Spencer's da, Mr. Holmes," Abby said, edging closer to the little grouping.

"Liam and I have become best of friends," Mary said, patting the little thing gently. "He is a world expert on Batman and the color green. I taught him that."

"You would," Sherlock laughed. "Sherlock Holmes," he said, holding out his hand to shake.

Liam looked at Mary like he was certain Sherlock was more bananas than 'Bananadon'.

Spencer laughed. "I'm going to help Dad with the tea a sec. Make sure he doesn't teach him anything destructive. Alright, love?"

"Destructive?" Abby asked, bewildered. Mary laughed.

"He's only two. Bombs are a lesson saved until they're at least five or six when they've got better motor control," Mary said. She grinned down at Liam. "Boom?"

Liam's eyes lit up. "Boomboom!!" he squealed happily, followed by explosion noises and waving of hands.

Spencer backed away from the little group as Sherlock was murmuring things to the boy, showing him interesting things and having him show off what he did know. Spencer began to hear the story of "Batman girl" who'd come to rescue him and headed into the kitchen.

"Dad?" Spencer said.

"Yes? I'm um, just, how does she take her tea? Jail time or no? I mean, cream or sugar?" John asked sarcastically, arranging china on a tray.

"Just sugar's fine," Spencer said with equal snark. "With a side of ASBO. Seriously, Dad? Lecturing me?"

"Was I lecturing? I don't believe I was," John muttered, waiting for the kettle to boil. He leaned against the worktop with arms crossed over his chest. "You've just decided to settle down, then? With a child? Speaking of, might want to watch your mother holding a baby."

"No, you're just pissy at Mum for having a wee bit of imbalance," Spencer said. "She had Liam all afternoon, and I'd happily trust her to hold him anytime, you old codger. Maybe falling for convicts runs in the family."

"She wasn't a bloody convict when we fell for her! She was a sweet, darling-"

"Prostitute?" Mary suggested, rolling herself in, sans baby. She'd left a bewildered Abby and Liam sitting on the sofa with Sherlock. He was simply hopeless around babies. "I'm sorry, but that counts as a criminal."

"Well. We didn't know what you did on the side," John grumbled, sulking.

"Hardly matters," Spencer said. "Abby's gone straight now that we have Liam, and I hope you'll kept your tongue because I bloody well plan to parent that little boy in there. I may even be his da someday!" His face was turning red with anger.

"Spencer, darling, calm down, your Dad is just worried for you. I was worried, too, dear, until I met the little angel," Mary said, reaching out for their son. "He's always cross these days. We'll have to start slipping something into his tea for it."

"You will not," John snapped, rubbing his hand over his forehead. He switched off the kettle and poured the boiling water into the ceramic tea pot waiting nearby. "I just think it's rather sudden and blast it, they're too damn young-"

"John, please. He's serious about this," Mary said and John bristled at her soothing voice.

"They're always serious when they've got a new experiment on and then a month later they're off to the next thing-"

"John!"

"You didn't raise him, Mary," John replied.

"And you and Father left for this place because Mum asked you," Spencer said, holding his mother's hand. "You all left me, Finch, and Bran over a year ago. On our own. We didn't even do Mum's birthday all together last time. We've grown up without you. A bit fast, but it's not like the kid was going anywhere else. I love Abby, and I love Bran. And. hell, I love Liam. And together? We're family." He squeezed Mary's hand.

"Yes. Well. I'm allowed to be concerned for you," John muttered. Mary rolled her eyes.

"Your default emotion is 'concerned', John. He's doing fine. Which you'd know if you called him sometimes. Come along, I want to play with it if it's not sleeping," Mary said imperiously, turning her floral chair to head back into the other room. John picked up the tray.

"Go on, then," he said, avoiding Spencer's eyes.

Spencer glared at his Dad, following his mother.

Sherlock had Liam under the arms, spinning him around making airplane noises.

"Da, careful with him!" Spencer said, hand outstretched.

"You used to love this!" Sherlock said over Liam's high pitched giggles. Sherlock popped him in the air again catching him. "Their brains interpret the movements as enjoyable. They require stimulation, Spencer. More than telly."

"I know that!" Spencer said, reaching for the boy he thought of his son, even though the dark olive tone of his skin was nothing like Spencer's milky pale English skin.

"He only dropped Spencer once, to my knowledge," Mary was saying to a rather worried-looking Abby. "As long as they land on their bottoms, they are generally alright."

"Oh My God," Abby said, leaping up to rescue Liam.

Liam was giggling happily though. "Abamama, mama! Again!"

Spencer was there to soothe them both. "Don't worry, I turned out alright. Not a broken bone in my life," he said.

"Though he dislocated his shoulder twice, had several sprains, and once gave himself a concussion on the recoil from a rifle," Sherlock replied. "Besides, your son is extremely intelligent. We could have him solving his first crime in a few years. Bank robberies and missing persons, first, of course. Save the murders for later."

"M-Murders?" Abby asked, eyes wide.

"Oh, come now, dear. We've all seen your resume," Mary said with a disappointed frown. "He's very smart. I like him."

"Yes, yes, I'm sure he's a genius," John remarked, setting the tray down on the coffee table. "He's probably the most intelligent baby in the world-"

"He is!" Abby snapped, bouncing the child on her hip. "He's the best little boy anyone could ever hope for."

Liam grew quiet, a small frown on his face. Spencer sighed, stroking the boy's hair.

"Now look what you've done," Spencer said. "He's quiet, not stupid. He observes, absorbs."

"Arse-orbs," Liam repeated. "Mama." He twisted back to look at Abby.

"Now, now, we've told you about that word. Abs-orbs. Abs." Abby kissed his forehead. "He's had a rough start of it, but he's doin' fine now."

"The McCannady's had him for a while. Finch rescued him, and I think anyone would be quiet after an ordeal such as that," Mary said, raising her eyebrows at John. "So no sudden movements or harsh tones. He's very welcome in our family, isn't he, John?"

John glared at her, but he nodded. "Yes. Very much so. You're the boss."

"Don't forget it," Mary said sweetly. "Liam, would you like to meet Bananadon's mummy? She'd love to see you!"

"Bananadon!!!" Liam roared, sending Sherlock and Spencer into laughter.

"He does love Bran," Spencer laughed.

Freya had in her ear-buds as she popped out of her room, shaking her bum as she headed for the kitchen. She made it into the doorway before back up, popping out a blasting bit of music as her jaw dropped.

"Oi, where'd the hell you kidnap that thing from? I was only joking about more babes," she said, heading over.

"This is Spencer's girlfriend, and her charming son Liam, and the newest love of your son's life," Mary told her matter-of-factly. She grinned at Liam. "See? Mini Bananadon."

"Bananadon!" Liam repeated, wriggling in Abby's lap.

Freya's grin was hissed as she giggled. "Really?"

"Yeah, he's quite obsessed with Brandon's hair.. and cooking, and being held," Spencer said, draping his arm around Abby's shoulder. "And Bran is wretchedly attached to him for all his fussing otherwise."

Freya took out her ear buds, tucking her music into her pocket then held out her hands. "May I?" she asked Abby.

"Um, uh," Abby glanced at Mary, who nodded. "Yeah, sure." She passed the bouncing baby over to the blond stranger, who was, actually, the first one to ask. Her eyes flickered over to Spencer. reaching out to touch his hand.

Freya was more gentle, more careful and less certain with the boy. "Ello, luv," she said softly. "Oh dear god, isn't he precious?" she said, eyes going misty. "Maryyy."

"Uh-oh," Spencer laughed into Abby's ear. "Aunt Free's gone mushy. Everyone watch out!" He squeezed her hand reassuringly.

"Yes, yes, he's precious. And Finch's child will have a little playmate, it's all wonderful," Mary cooed, equally as soft. "Should we adopt another?"

"Oh, God, you are too old to be chasing after toddlers," John muttered. Mary scowled at him.

"Is not," Spencer said. "Liam loves his Mare-mare."

"Bananadon," Liam was whispering to Freya.

"He's not so great with putting together names," he amended. "But we're working on that. I'm certain he knows me as 'that bloke whom I threw peas at yesterday'."

"You never did like peas," Sherlock said.

"You do realize this mocha gorgeousness did not actually get spawned by your loin-fruit," Freya said, toddler on her bony hip. "Here you go, luv. A mighty lovely lad you've got. Text me a picture of him with my son sometime, yeah?" she sniffed slightly.

"Uh, yeah, sure. If I can ever get them both to stand still long enough," Abby said, taking a shine to the small woman. Moreso than she had Freya's son. "He's ridiculously obsessive over feedin' Liam. I'm sure he'll be podgy if Bran don't lay off it soon."

"Nah, nah, they eat loads at that age. Careful, you won't be able to keep him in clothes," she said, sitting on Abby's opposite side. "Generally they know when they're full. Keeping meal times is the best."

"She learnt that out of a book," Sherlock muttered.

"Oh sod off, so did you," Freya said. "Had no idea how to be a mum, and whatever possessed me to spawn that son of mine- well, peer pressure. Everyone was doing it."

"I was doing it, I'm everyone," Mary said with a laugh. She wheeled herself closer to Sherlock, taking his hand. "And then I did it twice."

Sherlock raised her hand to kiss it. "Yes, and then dropped it on our door step without any instructions," he said.

"He turned out alright," Freya said, reaching to pat his and Abby's hands entwined. "And you two will too. No one is ever prepared for a kid-" Liam slid down out of Abby's lap.

"Watch him on that table, it's got sharp edges," John remarked, unsure of what facial expression he should be making.

"He's fine," Mary said with all the knowledge of a mother. "You should start looking at schools. I know it's a few years away, but Spencer, the waiting list for the nursery we had you in was months long. It's probably worse now."

"Already done," Spencer said. "Got him on the list right after the papers were dry from the lawyer. And the primary school too. Well, I got him wait-listed for three, and we can see where he's at learning wise before then."

Liam toddled, touching knees of adults as he held onto furniture and little eyes roamed over the room. He grabbed a bikkie from the tea tray - chocolate, of course, and headed straight for John. The old army soldier gave Sherlock a panicked look. Sherlock just smiled at him.

Liam grabbed onto John's denim clad knee, chewing half a chocolate digestive.

"Mama?" he said loudly. "Who dis?"

"That's Spencer's da," Abby told him gently. "That's Dr. Watson."

"Erm, John is fine," the old soldier replied. He tapped the little kid's hand. "Hello."

"Lo," Liam said dutifully. He leaned in to whisper. "Got a fire-tuck an' a'bu-wambulance. Shh, mysery."

"How exciting," John said softly, leaning towards Liam. "Have you got any tanks?"

"John!" Mary scolded. "Don't go giving him ideas."

Liam's lips pouted unhappily. "John gib tank?" he said, offering his half of bitten cookie. John smiled and patted his head.

"Keep the biscuit. Tank is on me," John replied, picking the child up to bounce him on his lap.

"And a water pistol, to shoot Brandon with," Mary suggested.

"Mummm," Spencer warned. "Shooting lessons are for a bit older," he admonished. "Besides, we've hardly worked out what to do bedroom wise when he gets a bit older."

"Oh that's right," Freya said. "That old flat did only have two bedrooms."

"I'm sure you'll get creative with it," Mary said, wheeling herself closer to her female lover, looking at her son. "Just keep an open mind-"

"I'm not sleepin' with Brandon," Abby said, crossing her arms and slumping down. "He smells like ol' food. And-" she almost said booze but cleared her throat. "He snores. I can 'ear 'im down the stairs."

"Things work a bit different in our house, Mum," Spencer said shyly. "Separate beds, separate relationships."

"One child?" Sherlock asked, brow raised.

"One's enough right now, isn't it?" Spencer sputtered. "Oh, Dad, wotcher, he's got chocolate on you."

"Your mother got paint on these jeans, it won't make much difference," John said with a shrug. He smoothed an aged hand over the boy's soft hair.

"Yes, well, Finch and Vance finally gave into having an intruder in their home, and their bed if the security footage is any indication. I just thought perhaps you might follow in their steps," Mary said innocently. Abby's eyes widened.

"You have footage of Thad 'n Finch 'n Scarface?" Abby blushed, looking at Spencer, horrified. "There ain't footage of us, is there?"

Spencer pursed his lips, a look very much adopted from John. "Of course not," he said, looking his mother in the eye. "Right?"

Mary raised her eyebrow. "Not at all, darling. I'd never watch footage of the two of you. Although I did find some very nostalgic scenes on your hard drive we should discuss later-"

"Mary!" John said, covering the baby's ears. Then he turned to his son. "Oh, really? Those times are not for your viewing."

Spencer's face lit up, "But Dad there was the one with Mum in the hosp-"

"No!" Sherlock said. "No, nope. Mary, I take it all back. He's your son, deal with him." He got up and headed towards Liam. "We've got a new son now," he teased. "He'll be the world's best consulting soldier."

"I'd rather 'im be somethin' bright. Like a- a-" Abby tried very hard to think of the best thing, "like a doctor or er, a business man or somethin' brillian'. 'E'll solve cancer or somethin' 'ard."

"He'll be the very best at whatever he does, Abs," Spencer said. "Well, Mum? Are we satisfied?"

"We are more than satisfied. You'll bring him again, won't you?" Mary asked, looking at Abby.

"Erm, yes, sure. If we're invited an' all," Abby said bashfully.

"Of course you're invited," Mary said, patting her hand.

"And don't forget, next week," Spencer said. "Liam? Are we ready to say bye-bye?"

Liam twisted to look at John. "Present?"

"Next time, promise. A soldier never goes back on his word," John said, patting the child on his head.

"Really, I've known several-"

"Shut up, Mary," John said nicely.

"Allll right," Spencer said. "That's enough, little bloke." He picked Liam up and handed him to Abby. He went to give his mother a hug and kiss. "We'll be back around soon. Drive's a bit far, so we're off."

"Be safe, text me when you get home," Mary said, kissing his cheek. "Thank you, darling, it was fun. Bye-bye, Liam!"

"Bye-bye!" Liam called out over Abby's shoulder.

Spencer breathed a sigh of relief when they got into the car. He shot a weak grin at Abby as he started the car. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

"I don' fink your dads like me very much. But they're all so keen on Liam. It's a bit strange," Abby remarked, trying to smile back at him. "I mean, your mum practically acted like he's a grandchild."

"Mum and Sherlock," Spencer said. "Baby crazy. They didn't get to raise me together. Not really. Father thinks of children as the ultimate in potential. Possibly because he never grew up himself. I mean, he sort of is a grandchild. Just a bit." He looked nervously at her.

"Your mum is sweet on 'im. I saw 'er lookin' at 'im all soft," Abby said, remembering the sweet look on Mary's face when she watched Sherlock with the baby. "Did you spend much time with 'er when you were young?"

"Not really," Spencer said. "Never enough. She was busy. Finch was with us more than I was with Mum and Seb. More often Aunt Free kept her and Bran. Sometimes we all were together. But I certainly never had such.. access to my mum as I do now." He looked at the road, a sad look on his face. "She wanted my dads to have a 'proper' family."

"It's sweet. Y'know, a sacrifice on her end, but a gift to your dads. They love ya. That's important," Abby said, reaching over to squeeze his shoulder. "An' Liam. Apparently, they love Liam."

Spencer took a hand off the wheel to squeeze her knee. "They'll learn to love you too," he said. "They just don't know you yet. I'm happy for what my mum did, y'know? I wouldn't exist otherwise. Not as me. I rather like who I am, who I'm with, and where I'm going." He turned to smile genuinely at her.

"That's good, 'cause I rather like you, too," Abby grinned back, leaning her head back on the seat, relaxed. "An awful lot."

"Good," Spencer said. "And Bran? You're getting on better? I know he's a nightmare to live with, and I don't expect you to ever go to bed with him. Ever. He's not. He's definitely not." He made a hand motion as if to explain everything before returning his hands to the wheel.

"I mean, I wouldn't say we're friends or nothin'. He's just tryin' to be nice to the baby," Abby said, watching his face. "He's importan' to you. I'm tryin' to be civil. He's still a big moron. An' I don' want him drinkin' 'round Liam."

"Absolutely not," Spencer said, hard. "He's been clean every night. I've checked him as he's come home. And if a baby is what it takes for him to stay sober, then so be it. For me? That lad's the most important out of all of us. He's bloody innocent and has got his whole life ahead of him. I want the best life for you and him. You're free of that world now."

The realization dawned on her, and she gave him a soft smile. "Yeah. We're both free now."

Awkward Triptych

Finch dried her hair, having showered when they got back home because frankly the smell of gunpowder wasn't all that appealing to her pregnancy-sensitive nose. Her flannel bottoms hung low on her hip, and her over-sized sleep shirt was starting to stretch over her body. She knew she had to face the music eventually, so she padded out to the sitting room to face the two men there.

Thaddeus looked pale, and Vance looked red. The television was on, but neither man was looking at one another. Their eyes both tracked the woman coming into the room.

"Lo, bird," Vance said, shifting his knees, still a bit knobby on his lanky legs under his jeans.

"She don't let me call her that neither," Thad muttered.

Finch bit her lip, looking at them with a contrite expression on her features. "What happens now?"

"You come and sit, and we revisit an old conversation," Vance said gently. "Come here, Finch."

"I really don't need to be here for this," Thad said.

"Yes, you do."

Finch's heart beat hard in her chest as she sat between them, looking at Vance with shiny eyes. "I feel like I should ask if I'm in trouble. You both look awful."

"Only because your fiance doesn't seem to understand that you told me to piss off," Thaddeus said, leaning further away.

"Because she fears turning into her mother," Vance said, reaching for Finch's hands. "I told you, darlin', if it came to it, we'd re-evaluate where we're at."

"You're bloody engaged!" Thad puffed up.

"I don't need a bunch of people like mum, Vance," Finch told him, for some reason feeling like she wanted to cry. "I don't! I promise, you're enough. That's what marriages are, proper ones. Aren't they?"

"He's not a very big fellow," Vance said, lifting Finch's hands to his lips. "And yes, the timing is a bit poor to realize you might be having feelings for someone else. But your mum understands, love doesn't get used up."

"It doesn't get used up, but spreading it about spreads jealousy, envy," Thaddeus said, pressing against the arm of the sofa. He had his hands in his long black hair, frustrated.

"And you love her," Vance said.

"Yes, I bloody love her!" Thaddeus roared. "Piss off, Scarface! She's already made it clear she don't want me around. It's too hard and stresses her out. Let her have her monogamous marriage and miniature you and let me go figure out how to pick up the pieces."

"I-I don't know what to say," Finch whispered, taken aback by Thad's shouting. She leaned closer to Vance, looking up at him. "What am I supposed to do? I don't know how to make you both happy."

"Finch, you're to be my wife," Vance said. "We knew, we both knew from the very beginning my work would keep me gone for days, weeks, sometimes more. I told you, I'd never once stand in the way of you finding someone to warm your bed. So long as I remain yours." He looked at Thaddeus. "I'll not share her while I'm home."

"You shouldn't want to share her while you're gone," Thad replied. "Cruelness."

"Realism," Vance countered. "This ain't some fairly tale, nor book story, or tragedy. I mean to be happy, honest, real. This-" He pointed at the two of them. "This is real. And the pain is real. Why you both hurtin' when there's no need to?"

"B-But-" Finch looked between them, guilt welling up in her throat. Guilt at how Vance was being so kind, and how Thad was looking so hurt, and how- how- she shook her head, deciding her hands were a better place to focus her gaze. "I care for him," she mumbled.

"Maybe we're going about this the wrong way," Vance said, covering Finch's hand. He reached across her, dragging Thad's own to join theirs. "Would it be easier if I were here?"

Finch's eyes widened, and her face turned red, the images flickering in her mind making her blush. Vance curled close to Finch's side. "Kiss him then," he urged.

Thad shook his head, a blush growing on his own face.

"He doesn't like me like that," Finch said, denial an easier thing to say than how she really felt. "He wouldn't want it-"

Vance grasped Thad's shirt, pulling him closer. Finch's back was pressed to Vance's back. "Yes he does, look at him," he murmured. "Torn up because he can see how much you're mine." He dragged his hand over Finch's stomach, making her bump more obvious. "He licks his lips because he imagines yours back on them."

Thad made a strange noise in his throat. He almost jerked back when he felt a much-larger-than-usual hand cup the back of his hand, twining in his straight hair.

Vance whispered into Finch's ear. "Go on, then - show me what you're both guilting yourselves over."

Finch's breath caught in her chest, pupils blown wide at Thad's close face. Her lips parted. "I w-want- I need-"

Thaddeus wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth. He surged forward, clashing their lips together, grasping at Vance's shoulder across her own, hand gripped in the man's shirt. Strange, so strange. Finch moaned, teeth crashing with his in the sloppy kiss.

"Thad-"

"Finch," Thaddeus replied, forehead against hers. "Please," he begged. "Please." He drew a hand up her leg, kissing at the side of her mouth. She shivered, and if Vance hadn't been just behind her she would've said no. But she nodded.

"Yes," Finch breathed, trying not to sob with relief. "Yes, please."

Thaddeus drew closer with urging from Vance's hand. Vance watched as their mouths pressed together again - a beautiful desperation that had him hard against Finch's back. He stroked down Finch's stomach, touching her through her clothes, rubbing at her through her pants as he rocked against her, panting into her hair. She wriggled against him, kissing Thad again now that she was 'allowed'. His long hair tickled her throat and face. When Vance touched her, touched any part of her, she felt on fire but this- this was so new, so exciting. If Vance was a fire, together they were an inferno. Hell fire.

Vance nuzzled at her hair, pushing it aside to kiss up and down, suckling at her neck as he scooped her up into his lap for better access. The pressure on his lap was making him groan more as he and Thaddeus kissed and touched every inch of Finch. Vance - testing the waters - caught Thad's lips with his own as Thaddeus broke off for air.

Thaddeus pulled back.

"I'm not-"

"Thad," Finch turned his chin back to her, catching his lips, too. "Shut up."

Vance huffed in amusement as he worked his hand inside Finch's pants, scooting them down her hips. Thad let himself be hushed by Finch's bolder and bolder kisses. He was practically shivering all over as he stroked her face, arms, sides. He was adjusting to the strangeness of the occasional brush of skin from Vance, intentional strokes of affection- affection? back from the girl he loved's boyfriend.

"She's wet," Vance purred, slipping a finger inside Finch as she was distracted. "Mmm, she's so excited by this."

"Ah-ah," Finch gasped a protest, except it was so true. "Just- I'm just- This is so-" She whimpered, melting at his touch. "How are we- What-"

"Help me off with her pants," Vance said, a glint in his good eye as he passed her towards Thad's lap.

"What are we-" Thad asked.

"Would you both just stop thinking?" Vance laughed, unzipping his own jeans as he pulled Finch backwards, Thad's hands dragging her flannel pants away. "Spread a bit, bird," he murmured, pulling his cock from his jeans beneath her. She opened her legs, heavy-lidded eyes barely blinking open when they started unclothing her.

"Can't stop thinkin'," Finch said, fingers touching Thad's face gently.

"Well don't stop kissing me," Thaddeus demanded, as he watched the pink skin of Vance's cock appear, then disappear into- he gasped, reaching hesitantly to touch them, connected. He took up Finch's mouth again. Her tongue slid into his mouth, with his, until,

"Oh, oh, yess," she hissed as Vance moved inside her.

"There she is," Vance groaned, pushing up. He panted, holding her tightly before reaching back out to pull Thad closer. "My bird, my lovely bird, gorgeous Finch. Look so lovely with someone as lovely as you."

"God, God, V-Vance," Finch chanted, her body brushing with Thad's when Vance moved her. She gripped Thad's shoulders hard, for balance, and pulled him closer to kiss. "Th-Thad-"

"Oh my God," Thad panted, hips moving to get the bit of friction he could manage from his tight jeans.

"Darlin', I think your friend needs a little hand," Vance said into her ear. He wasn't racing towards any end, just enjoying the back and forth of Finch clenching around him, wetness seeping down everywhere.

"Yes, yes, please," Thaddeus begged into Finch's kisses.

Her skilled artist's hands had his jeans open and unzipped in a smooth motion usually reserved for brush strokes, skin finding velvety hard skin, stroking over him. "D-Do you love me?"

Thad nodded, bucking into her small hands. "Yes, yes, god yes," he panted. "Love you."

"Love you," Vance echoed into her ear, moving quicker now. Their positions on the sofa were so very precarious. They were all grasping at one another as they moved, bodies tightening, shifting, until finally they broke. Finch gasped desperately as she came, continuing to stroke Thad's hard cock, head thrown back on Vance's shoulder. She turned her face to kiss him, open-mouthed and panting, clenching hard around his member.

Thad came across Finch's shirt, and Vance finally let himself groan out completion. Panting mouths and sweaty bodies seemed to melt. Vance helped Finch off his lap and let her curl against a collapsed Thaddeus.

"Stay, I'll grab you clean things," he said, voice gone rough. Finch nodded, listening to the pounding of Thad's heart in his chest. Stronger than hers.

Thaddeus carefully wrapped his arms around her.

"Am I still fired?" he asked softly.

Finch huffed, face turning grumpy. "You were very mean to me. You made fun of how much I take off. I should work more-"

"Wouldn't care as much if I got to see you at home," Thad said, poking her nose. "Don't frown so. You just got shagged."

"You're making me frown," Finch pointed out, shivering in his arms. She looked up at him. "You alright?"

"Brill, possibly," Thad said. "Depends on what happens next. I don't really have a lot of repeat performances, and I'm not gay."

"That may have lost you a few repeat performances," Vance said, smirking as he carried over clean clothes - for both of them. He'd changed in his own pyjamas. Finch pulled out of Thad's arms, reaching for her shirt. She got shy when she took off her soiled shirt, blushing when she hurried to put her new one on.

"You don't have to be gay to have sex with someone," Finch mumbled, hurrying through changing.

Vance held her pants as he helped her slip into them. "Why label yourself?" he asked. "Only labels you need are yours, mine, and love." He cupped Finch's cheek, kissing her softly. "Right?"

Finch smiled, toying with the edges of his hair. "Right. Where are we sleeping? I think the baby bird wants to rest."

"The master bedroom tonight, I think," Vance said, scooping her up. "I don't want him in the loft. He has his own room."

"I can stay?" Thad asked, pulling on his clean shirt, and untucking his long straight hair.

Finch looked over Vance's shoulder as he carried her, eyes alight in the dim room. "Yes. You can stay."

Thad was on his feet, after them like an overexcited puppy. In a way, he felt a bit like a pet allowed to sleep on the furniture. Still, given Finch's permission was a rush through his veins. Even if it did mean just across the bed was a six-foot-eight crime lord who snored when he laid on his back and drooled a bit when he laid on his side. The most important thing was the girl who lay between them, tying together two strangers who might've once met in a battlefield.

***

Having a child turned out to be - a full time job. Spencer learned this over the process of a week. He also learned he was very lucky that Liam's vocabulary involved the word 'loo' and he wasn't too fussy unless he needed a nap. By nap time, Spencer was ready for one himself. Friday rolled around again, and Spencer gave Abby one of his cards and told her to get out of the house for fuck's sake and buy many of the things they were lacking for the little gentleman.

He sat with the boy inside the cafe, holding him in his lap while he plied him with chicken salad sandwiches.

Mary's wheels left gentle tracks on the floral carpet as she approached the table slowly. "Hello, my darling. And who do we have here?"

"B'gurl!" Liam squealed in delight around a crummy mouth.

Spencer caught the boy about the waist as he went to launch out of his lap.

"Mum, this is Liam," he laughed. "He's also Batman, judging by how often he flies out of one's arms."

"Aren't you sweet? Look at your lovely little eyes," Mary said, smiling at the child. "Are you enjoying your newest companion, Spencer?"

"He's lovely, Mummy," Spencer said, drawing back the dark hair from the boy's head. "A bit of a handful, though I'm inclined to say he's the most well-behaved child. Terribly in love with Brandon."

"Bananadon!" Liam announced. "Bananadon and pancakes, and and he eated with me and watch'd telly." Spencer rolled his eyes while suppressing a grin.

"I thought you might like to meet him," Spencer said.

"Charmed," Mary said, pouring herself a cup of tea. She really was quite pleased at the little family, although- "A bit young to be considering that sort of commitment, aren't you? What has Bananadon had to say about it?"

"Don't kick him out of his room for a nursery?" Spencer said, hefting Liam back into the toddler seat. The boy calmly went back to chewing on his sandwich and watching Mary with wide interested eyes. "Admittedly, he's also said we're the most impossible people to be parenting him, that I'm too young, he's too dying, and Abby is um-" Spencer looked at the boy. "A c-r-i-m-i-n-a-l."

"Ah, well, I believe your sister's impending motherhood will force her to consider another artist in her shop. And if I even hear so much as a whisper of A-b-b-y returning to her previous jobs, I shall make sure you both lose something very important to you, do I make myself clear?" Mary asked, raising her eyebrows at her son. "I didn't lose six men getting him back just to have your girlfriend put him in danger again."

"She wouldn't dare," Spencer said, handing the boy his sippy cup. He stroked his head again. "He's too precious for that. She's been over the moon, and plans to take care of him until school. I can have him if she wants to work. Benefits to being your own employer. And if we're both busy, Bran is better than I am with him. Really. It's scary, Mum, for a gay man to be so good with kids."

Liam tossed his cup over his shoulder with a thump, no longer interested in food. Instead he was reaching for Mary.

Mary reached over and plucked him from his little toddler seat, placing him in her lap. "There's a good boy. Well, your fathers are gay and they were wonderful for you when you were younger. That's why I left you with them."

Liam giggled, nuzzling into Mary's hair.

"Careful, Mum! He likes hair," Spencer warned. "And Dad is not gay."

"You mean the two men who've been utterly devoted to each other for the last thirty years? Or the one specifically who, other than myself, only likes boys? Which one are you talking about?" Mary remarked wryly. She scrunched her nose at Liam. "Hello, little angel. Talk at me."

Liam beamed at the attention, looking back at Spencer to see if he was watching.

"Who dis?" he asked, touching Mary's cheek.

"I'm his mummy," Mary laughed, eyes sparkling. "Can you believe such a big lad as that has a mummy?"

Liam gasped, making a surprised face. "Aba is my mama," he said.

"Liam, can you call her 'Mare-mare'?" Spencer suggested. "I think the nanny was a bit American."

"Liam, Liam, what a lovely name," Mary said, reaching for a little sandwich for herself. "Has he eaten?"

"Constantly," Spencer laughed. "Brandon's been a big help there. Apparently Abby and I are not to feed the 'baby'."

"No' baby!" Liam said, twisting in Mary's lap. He did have a little hand in her thick curls. He easily laid his head against her shoulder, melting into the arms of a well practiced mum.

"No, no, little man," Spencer said. "You're a big boy now. He uses the lav and everythin'. I highly recommend kidnapping instead of childbirth."

Mary rubbed Liam's little back comfortingly, entirely at ease with the tiny creature. "Hmm, yes, childbirth hurts much more than rescue missions. Oh, I should like to see Brandon with a child. I bet that is hysterical." Her green eyes leveled on her son. "Are you quite certain about all of this?"

Spencer swallowed. He'd been massively uncertain that first night. Now he nodded. "Yeah, Mum," he said. "Yeah, we're not there yet, but I think-" he got up to take the boy from her arms. "I think I wanna be a dad. If Sherlock Holmes can do it, why can't I?"

"Perfect. When can we take him to visit John? I'd like to see the look on his face-" Mary grinned, looking quite like a Cheshire cat.

Spencer laughed. "Soon, I promise. We'll come down the cottage," he said, swinging the boy on his hip. "He's getting sleepy now."

"Nu-uh," Liam said, punctuated by a yawn. He went back to reaching for Mary.

"Dad'll love him, but he's still a bit more keen on women," Spencer said. "Probably why he gets on so well with Bran."

Mary giggled. "Yes, but I didn't tell them yet. I'll be ever so excited. We should surprise them."

Spencer's brows rose. "Oh?" he said. "Oh. Needs must then, Mummy. Let me make a couple of calls. Hold him a minute?"

"I should like that. Liam can sit on my lap and tell me all about Batman," Mary grinned with a wink. She reached out her arms for him. Liam snuggled against Mary's chest, wrapping a hand in her cardigan.

"Shh, b'man's a mysery," Liam said. "An' Robin is a boy." He sniffed, rubbing at his eye. "An' Fin-fin-uh, girl b'man bringed me to Mama."

Spencer had to cover his mouth as he stepped away to call Abby.

"I dunno what the bleedin' hell the difference between one baby food or another, an' your bothersome pet's tagged alon' and he's lecturin' me abou' types of peas-"

"Tell him to piss off, and that Liam'll eat anything so long as he cooks it," Spencer said. "Remind him I hate limas, and don't get the kid hooked on them. More importantly - mind if I take the little bugger for a little longer?"

"Why? Where you goin'? Thought you was havin' lunch with your mum," Abby said, swatting at Brandon's hand when he reached for lima beans.

"Mum's besotted," Spencer said, smile obvious in his voice. "She wants to show him off to Dad. Scare the pants off him. Look, I know we said take this slow, but. Abs, really. I love the kid. You can come with, if you want?"

"You-You want me to meet your Dads? Like, proper?" Abby asked, feeling more than a little afraid. She paused. "Where?"

"Cottage, of course," Spencer replied. "Seb drives Mum up and pretends to go on errands while we have lunch. And of course, like proper, it's been bloody long enough. Months, for God's sake. My dads were living together in less time than we were."

"I- I don't know-"

"Oh, bloody take your brat to meet the parents. Ten to one that Mary is asking him to and if you, so help me, give her a reason to be upset-" Brandon was saying in the background.

"Abby, give Brandon the bloody phone," Spencer said. She passed the phone to him.

"Don't yell at me, I'm busy buying groceries to feed your projects," Brandon said.

"You didn't have to go along," Spencer said sweetly. "Be nice and I'll snap a pic of Dad's face when we show up and text it to you. Mum's already gone wibbly over him. Get Abby ready for a rendezvous, and for fuck's sake, put down the limas!"

"They're good for you, you don't eat proper," Brandon scolded, eyeing Abby's hair with thought. "She'll be there."

"Love you, too, Bran," Spencer said. "Give me back to Abs."

"Hey, I'm back on," Abby said, backing away from Brandon slowly. She didn't like that gleam in his eyes.

"Give me about an hour," he turned to look at his mother and child again. "Maybe hour and a half. Good lord, what are they talking about?" he strained to overhear. "I'll see you then."

"Bye," Abby said, hanging up the phone.

"And do you know what this color is?" Mary asked, pointing to the green tea pot.

"Umm," Liam said, leaning in to squint. "Dinosaur color?"

"It's green!" Mary said, nuzzling his soft hair. "Grass is green."

"Grrreen," Liam growled, then giggled. He reached up for Mary's hair. "Rwed."

"Mum?" Spencer said softly, eyes shining with fondness.

"We're talking about colors," Mary replied, smiling. She pointed at Liam's eyes. "Green."

Liam blinked his eyes, reaching for Mary's hand to hold.

"You can teach him colors, then how to shoot," Spencer said. "Of course, he's going to forget how to walk with how much we all hold him. I can count the number of times his feet have touched the floor since we got him." He paused. "Since Finch got him for us. Thank you, Mum. This was a bigger favor than I ever knew."

"Well, I would've sent you, but darling if they'd thought her a weak target she might have been hurt. They know she's a force to be reckoned with now. We made Vance a good partner for her, now we must mold Finch into being worthy of him, don't you agree?" Mary hummed, petting Liam's head.

"Mum, she's always been worthy of him," Spencer said, taking his seat. "But you're right, she's got to know she's worth it to herself. I'll get Abby in an hour or so. We'll follow you and Seb back to the cottage. But first- tell me about how Dad proposed."

"Why would you want to know something like that?" Mary asked, her voice getting tight. She pressed her lips together. "It was such a long time ago."

"Because I know how Seb did it- well, he didn't really, did he? But you and Dad were young, and Father was there, and I'm just- how did you do it? With three?" he asked, shaking his head. "How did he ask? Was there a ring? Did Father know before hand?"

"Well, John proposed first," Mary's voice cracked and she passed Liam back to Spencer. "In a pub with our friends. And Sherlock took me on a walk in the park, after an argument. There isn't much else."

"Wait, Father-?" Spencer said, tucking Liam in against his chest. He was still learning to hold the boy, but he was a clingy thing, much like his 'mother'. "That wasn't in the blog."

Mary's lips parted, and her pale skin dusted pink. "Oh, I just assumed you knew."

Spencer shook his curls. "They don't talk about it," he said. "Didn't. They were always happy together, but sometimes, there were times- you know. It was always better after your birthday. I'm just, it's been almost a year with Abby. I don't want Brandon to think there's anything less I've got with him, but well-" He winced.

"Perhaps best ask your fathers. Or even Seb and Jack. I'm wretched with these sorts of conversations," Mary replied gently, a silent plea in her eyes.

"Alright, Mum," Spencer ceded. "I just.. it's- I've got a little family now. I'm scared witless of the responsibility, but at the same time, I'm terrified of losing it."

"That's how everyone feels when they've got something to take care of," Mary said, tickling Liam in Spencer's arms. "Everyone's always scared. Can't let that stop you."

Liam giggled around the fingers in his mouth.

"Oi, little man, I thought talked about that," Spencer sighed. "Should I get him a dummy?"

"He's too old for that, don't you think? He'll stop. Won't you, darling? I'll give you something sweet if you stop licking your fingers. Are you hungry?" Mary cooed.

"Bis-ket?" Liam asked, showing little teeth.

"See, Mum, I'm utterly hopeless," Spencer laughed, leaning down to inhale the warm scent of the boy's hair. It had grown to be a mix of his, Abby's and Brandon's. Smelling much like their home. It made his heart clench in his chest. The idea of being a parent had never even crossed his mind when he asked his mother for the favor, but faced with the living, breathing thing in his arms, his heart ached with so much love and want.

***

Thaddeus bolted to work early the morning after their strange threesome. Vance had lost the usual snark and bite and had gained a profound disinterest in personal space. It made the skittish McCannady head to work early to try and clean up his well organized mess.

Walking back into the shop, he was struck with an odd sort of feeling. He hadn't been gone long at all, but faced with the realization that he might not come back made the familiar place new again. He picked up the trash and took it around back, then set about sweeping the lobby. It wasn't a glamorous job, but it was safe.

Finch had to go, she knew she had to go, but she was more than a little ... nervous. This scenario was one she'd never really planned for. She tried to sneak into her office without having to look directly at Thad.

"Afternoon," Thad said as she passed.

"Um, hi," Finch said, stopping to give an awkward wave. "Uh, yeah. Hi."

"Receipts don't go in the cash, I've got a locked drawer for that," Thad blurted out.

"Uh, noted," Finch said, continuing to edge her way towards the office. "I'm- um, just going to-"

"Right," Thaddeus said, going back to sweeping. He watched her through his hair until she was in the back. "Goddamn it," he swore at himself as he scooped up the dustbin and tossed the lot behind the counter. He hurried to the back, knocking on the office door.

"What?" Finch asked, sitting in her office chair.

Thad came in, closing the door behind him. It was cold against his back.

"I'm not gay," he said, cheeks flushed.

"You flirted with Bran easily enough. Why're you bringing that up now?" Finch asked, frowning.

"I was trying to irritate you, not snog your fiance," Thaddeus said, wrinkling his nose. "I don't snog your fiance!"

"Except the once?" Finch said sweetly, eyebrows raised.

"Oh bloody- you-" Thad said. He paced the short length of the office before turning to lean down, hand on Finch's chair, turning it to kiss her. She sputtered, unsure of what to do. She tried kissing back but she was worried she wasn't any good at it. Thaddeus tilted her head, pecking his lips against hers until her lips softened.

"There," he breathed. "I was afraid things were going to be awkward."

"They aren't? Because I'm pretty sure they are," Finch replied, reaching out to touch his chin.

"Well I was trying," Thaddeus replied. "Wait, I can't remember which is against the rules.."

"No snogging in the shop?" Finch suggested, blinking. "I don't know what rules there are anymore."

"Technically we're in the office, and I didn't bring the girl," Thaddeus said, leaning in to kiss her again. "I meant with the boyfriend."

"Is this weird? This is weird, right?" Finch kissed him back this time, nose smushing into his cheek.

"Fuckin' weird," Thaddeus agreed, breath mixing with hers. He finally pulled back after one last, toe-curling kiss. "I don't do bum play, but I guess if I dunno, you want, I could snog Scarface. 'Ee's not too bad looking when you look at him. Really rather kiss you, shag you, too." He laughed.

"I-I-I," Finch's mind blanked. "Shagging?"

"Was what we did on your sofa, right?" Thad said, brow raised. "Or was just kissin' allowed?"

Finch touched his shirt like it was the most fascinating thing. "I don't know what's allowed. I don't know what's going on. This is super weird. And the baby-"

"Is gonna have two parents no matter what," Thaddeus said. "It doesn't bother me, if it don't you. It's not like you can get pregnant more, right?"

"Oh, I should hope not. The one is tiring enough," Finch said, shaking her head. "I just, I just mean, did you have- what did you want to happen next?"

Thaddeus leaned on the desk. "No idea, really. I imagine you'll get large, erm, with the baby. Scarface will take care of business, and we'll run the shop until you go on leave. Only thing I know for certain is I'm not allowed up in your nest again unless you're dying, but it wasn't - it's better to with you, than not. Kinna felt like I didn't know what to do with m'self after you kicked me out."

"Mum's makin' me hire Abby on. Says it only gets harder from here on, with the um, y'know, the heart and everything," Finch told him, nodding at his words. "I sort of liked being here without anyone else. Like I had something that was just mine."

"Wha'm I? Chopped liver?" he asked.

"You know what I mean," Finch huffed, leaning forward to prop her elbow on the desk, hand on her chin. "Probably going to have to go on leave sooner rather than later. It's going to be dreadfully dull."

Thaddeus reached over to pet her hair. "No, it won't. It'll be far from it," he said. "And then you'll have your hands full with a tiny scarface of your own and - and I'll be here, and your brother and cousin, and little Liam'll have a little friend of his own to grow up alongside. And I think Sca-Vance meant for us to get to know each other better. Just because your relationship with 'im is marriage ready doesn't mean you and I are there yet."

"I should think not, we've hardly even kissed. I mean, I don't even like you," Finch pouted, plopping her face down on the desk. "I like you a little. Just a little."

Thad patted her head. "A little's enough right now," he said. "It's more than it was a week ago. And I got my job back. Which, by the way, I expect sick pay for the time you made me miss."

Finch looked up at him, lip curled in a sulky sneer. "No. No, that was your own fault. I'm not paying you for that."

Thad put his hand over his chest. "But I was heart-sick," he sighed theatrically. "Walkin' the night, tryin' to find a place to sleep. You owe me back for that."

"I owe you nothing! I literally gave you a place to sleep!" Finch argued, throwing her hands up in the air. "You're such a queen sometimes. You sure you're not gay?"

Thad tugged her hair back to stretch over for a kiss. He delved his tongue quick into her mouth. "Definitely," he murmured. "You'll make it up to me."

"And just how am I going to do that?" Finch teased, smiling for the first time all morning.

"By breakin' all the rules," Thaddeus smirked, kissing the edge of her smile. 

Tough Old Bird

Spencer had bribed the cafe to shut down for his lunch with his mother. Bribed, blackmailed - little difference.

He had some of his favorite sandwiches and his mother's favorite tea brewing laid out with pretty desserts and whimsical mugs that made him think of sleep overs at her house. The most important thing about the cafe - it was wheelchair accessible. He'd asked his mother to meet him at noon. At ten past, he was growing nervous.

"Darling," Mary sighed, wheeling herself up to the table. "Forgive me. Traffic into the city was wretched today."

Spencer stood, getting up to hug and kiss his mother.

"Forgiven," he said. "Where's Seb?"

"He's off to visit the baby bird so I can have some alone time with my son," Mary said, pecking his cheek. "That's what you wanted, yes?"

"Yes, please," Spencer said, beaming at his mum. "You look wonderful. I'm glad you're out. Has Dad been minding his mouth?" he asked, moving around to sit and pour their tea from a large green teapot.

"Both of your fathers have been surprisingly absent. It's a shame, I miss Sherlock. I don't know what they get up to that they haven't been about," Mary replied with a sweet smile. Of course, even at her age she was silly enough to believe that Sherlock didn't miss her or need her. Even after everything. "It's been nice and quiet with Freya and Seb and Jack."

Spencer laughed. "As if those three can ever be quiet, Mum," he said. "Eat something. I'd hate for the sandwiches go to waste. My stomach is still.. touchy." He took a wedge and nibbled at it.

"Oh, darling, I hope if it continues you'll have that checked," Mary said, taking a sandwich so as not to be rude. "How have you been? How is Brandon? Still taking his meds?"

"Yes, better, I think. And worse. His meds make him ill. I don't like it. He's not drinking, Mother," Spencer said. "And he's.. affectionate. I'm afraid of his mindset. Depression. I want him to see other doctors, get second opinions."

"A wise decision. How do you get him to agree to it?" Mary asked, sipping at her tea.

"It's non-optional," Spencer said, looking at her over his glasses. "Merely researching the alternatives first. I assume you saw my latest work?"

"Hmmm, yes. Very delicate. Almost as though you wanted to show me you were being responsible," Mary teased, giving him a wink. "I still worry for you. You're my child. I don't like to see you around all those nasty people."

Spencer looked contemplative.

"Speaking of nasty people," he hummed. "I know you've.. disapproved of Abby, because of her ties to rival operations."

"Among other things," Mary agreed. She reached out to touch his hand. "But I know you care for her."

"I do," Spencer said, covering her hand, holding in both of his own. "I've always felt there was something, something more to her, something more than her unknown friends, her deep wounds, and need for protection." He looked at their entwined hands.

"I hope she proves worthy of your feelings," Mary replied, giving his hand a squeeze.

Spencer looked up.

"She has a son," he said, meeting his mother's eyes.

"I see," Mary replied, having already known about the child. "And how do you feel about that?"

"I feel that someone has the boy - Liam, he's called, and is threatening his life," he said, eyes blazing. "I trust as a mother, you understand what it is to have your children threatened."

Mary's returning smile was a little false, and more than a little 'professional'. "Oh yes. I can certainly sympathize with the situation."

"They're using him, Mum," he said. "Using her. And have asked her to kill Finch in return for her son. Mum, I want that child in my presence by day's end."

"And how am I to do that, pray tell? I'm not the one with the power anymore," Mary replied, and for a moment her head twisted to the side. Hearing something. She shook her head. "I would be very put out if anything were to happen to you or Finch."

"Mother, the day you don't have power is the day your name is lost to human memory," Spencer said. "He's only a little thing. Two and a half, Thad said. Please."

[Sentiment. - MH]

Mary read the text with a scowl, but she nodded. "Consider it my pleasure, angel. I'll speak with Sebastian as soon as possible."

"Mum," Spencer said, watching her carefully.

"It's fine. Just a business text, dear," Mary rewarded him with a tight smile. "I should go soon, if I'm to organize a rescue so quickly. In the future, I would appreciate if you didn't mask asking for favors with lunch dates. It's unnecessary. I don't need to be bribed, just ask me."

[You spoil them. Overindulgent. As always. - MH]

"Mum, I didn't know about the baby until last night at two am," Spencer said. "Don't be cross with me." He bit his lip, looking sad. "It's only - I know how the little lad's gonna feel - not getting to see his mum."

Mary patted his arm, taking pity on the child. "It's alright, dear, I believe you. Finish lunch with me? I've missed you."

"I've missed you too," Spencer said, sniffing. "I meant to make this a weekly thing. So you don't have to stalk me always. Just because you're in that rubbish cottage and your chair, doesn't mean you can't go where you damned well please."

"Quite right. Except there are a few places I won't be able to go personally," Mary amended. She gave her son a devious smile, voices in her head already stirring to life, planning a rescue mission. "Every Friday at noon. That is the perfect price for coming out of retirement." She winked at him.

"Yes, Mummy," he said, nodding. "I'll have the loveliest standing lunch date in all the world. Have another sandwich."

***

Finch blanched. "Mum, you can't be serious."

"When am I ever not serious, darling?" Mary asked, her voice all velvet and steel. She lowered her eyelids, preening a little. 

"But Mum," the younger Morstan shook her head, curls bouncing. "I can't. I can't do it, that's what you told me-"

"That's unfortunately why you have to do it," Mary replied. She examined her nails, rubbing the fingers of her free hand over the roses on her wheelchair. "You're a target now. You have something to protect, but if they see you as weak, they'll come after you again and again. You have something you need to prove. What if the men aren't around and you have to watch the child alone? No, no, you must do this. Don't fret, darling, I'll be watching. It will be easy as pie."

Finch grimaced, rubbing her hand over her stomach. "I never found baking a particularly easy hobby."

"Neither did I," Mary hummed, knowing the battle was won. 

In the end, there were people of Moriarty's behind her as back up, but Mary had been right, Finch was the sharpest shooter next to Mary or Seb. She took out an old man and a few lackeys hiding in the shadows, a purple wig on her red hair that matched Abby's faded locks. The child would need a marker, something to prove she was an ally, before he would come with her. With the guards silenced, Finch walked through the place, her mother guiding her path through an ear piece, before she stood in the doorway of the nursery.

Liam was being bundled - unhappily - into a push-cart by the au pair.

"Nuh, nuh!" he grunted, throwing his fire-truck and smacking the Matriarch in the face.

"Mrs. Cathleen," the red-head gasped.

"Stop it, I'd dealt with worse brats than this one," the old woman said, holding the boy down.

He started to scream at her.

The gun in Finch's hand clicked, her voice coming out low and soft. "Get your hands off of that child, please."

Cathy whirled, hand around Liam's little wrist. "Or what?" she sneered. "You gonna shoot his Granny in front of him?"

Liam whimpered unhappily, swiping at his eyes.

"Aba?" he asked, uncertain.

"Yes, I am. Because children can be taught that sometimes Grans are very bad people who must be punished. I've already taken out all of your back up," Finch said, desperately wishing her mother weren't being so silent. "Give me the child."

The red-headed au pair had pulled a gun with a silencer, popping out two bullets into one of Finch's guards.

"Try again," she said.

Finch smiled. "Liam, sweeting. Close your eyes."

Liam's teary eyes fluttered closed as he stuck his thumb and first two fingers in his mouth, hiccuping around them. Finch had a bullet through the au pair's head in a matter of seconds, without even checking to see if he'd listened to her. She turned the gun on the McCannady elder. "I'm not afraid of you. I'm going to take the child and give him back to his Mama, and if you ever put a price on my head again, I'll make sure you stop breathing. I'm Finch Morstan, and being a Morstan is a much more terrifying thing than being a Moriarty."

The woman dropped Liam's wrist, a deep frown on her face.

"E's not the only thing I got," she said, voice trembling. "And you kill me, and they'll all go for Thaddeus, my dear, dear boy. I know you've been keeping him. Tread carefully, Miss Morstan. The world's a lot bigger than Moriarty."

Liam looked up at the older woman, realizing he'd been let go. He bolted across the room.

Finch caught him up, keeping her gun leveled at the old woman. She snorted through her nose. "No, Mrs. McCannady. It's not." She looked at Liam, safe in her arms. "Shall I take you back to Abby, love? I'm Finch, I'm your friend."

Liam still had his hand in his mouth, the other one wrapping in Finch's shirt. "Mama?" he asked around his fingers, big hazel-green eyes bright beneath his dark hair and nutty skin.

Finch backed out of the room, letting the remaining guards melt out of the shadows and storm the room to secure the old lady and pack up a bag for the child. She hugged him close, only turning away once she knew they were safe. "Yes, darling. I'm going to take you to Mama."

***

Abby sat curled up on the leather sofa in Baker Street, trying not to cry. She knew the drunk devil was somewhere upstairs, doing fuck knows what, and she had problems. She had to figure out how to get Liam without killing Finch. How to apologize to Finch for whatever she did to her, because this was going to hurt. She hugged her legs tighter to her chest, rocking a little, worrying about her sweet nephew, all alone with that murderous bitch.

Spencer came home with several bags of fancy-store things in one hand, a cup in the other. He had on his leather gloves and a sleek peacoat.

"Sorry, love, lunch with Mum ran long, then errands, and I got caught up," he said.

"Oh," Abby startled herself out of her reverie. She stood and stretched, shaking out her hair. "Um, that's okay. Was just mullin' some things over. How's your mum?"

"Better. We've got a standing lunch date now," he said, handing her the cup. "Tea for you. New place. I had a pastry and coffee myself. I know, I know, not supposed to have it - but neither of us will tell my specialist."

"Mm, this is delicious," Abby hummed, sipping at the takeaway cup. There was something so comforting about a hot beverage with those crisp white lids. "At least you're eatin'. That makes me 'appy, so if you chea' a little, I'll never tell on you."

"Good. At least you're in a better mood. So now we can move onto.. presents!" he said, holding up the bags.

Abby's brow knit together. "An' why am I gettin' presents? It ain't my birthday."

"Somebody's somewhere," Spencer said, shooing her to the couch. "Besides, it's not so much presents as necessities." He sat the six bags across the table. Most had names scrawled across them in stuffy fonts. "Go on, open them."

She reached into the bags, unwrapping little clothes with careful, shaking fingers. After a moment, the realization dawned on her that he knew who she would put these little things on. Her lips parted. "You knew?"

"Only just found out," Spencer admitted. "I knew there was something more going on, but I didn't- well, if I'd known, I'd have done something a bit sooner. I spoke with Mum about it, then went shopping. Children need lots of things, and they grow so quickly."

Abby blinked rapidly, unsure of whether to feel relieved or angry. "You told your Mum? But- But why?"

"To get him out, of course," Spencer said, growing impatient and opening up one of the bags himself. "Look, tiny sunnies," he said with a half-grin. "I couldn't resist. I'm a whiz with computers, but storming the compound? I needed Mum's help for that sort of job. I'm not exactly practiced in legwork."

"Bu-But they'll- But I'm- I was- But-" Abby didn't even know what to say. She felt like she was drowning. "What if he gets hurt? What if something happens-"

Spencer set the things aside, pulling her close to kiss her temple. "Mum always comes through," he whispered against her hair. "Don't worry. You'll have your son back."

"He's my nephew," Abby said, even though she knew that the word 'son' was more appropriate. "My sister's child."

"Oh!" Spencer said. "Your- the one who's, erm, passed. That's why they have the boy." He nodded as though things were making sense. "I was a bit confused at your lack of stretch marks. Scars, you have, but someone as little as you wouldn't get away without a bit of- you know."

"He calls me mum an' all, I don't think he remembers Lizzy much. But yeah, he's her kid." Abby looked up at Spencer with shining eyes. "I di'n't, um, you know it's hard for me to trus' people. I jus', I mean, if anyone could get 'im back, I know it's your mum. I guess I'm tryin' to say thanks."

Spencer smiled. "Say thanks when we get him back," he said, holding her gently. Thinking, he began to frown. "You said your sister's son. He wouldn't belong to my sister's current stalker, would he?"

"No, he don't have that Chinese look to 'im. Probably someone she hooked up with while she was high. I'm jus' thankin' my lucky stars he didn't turn out to be crack addicted or somethin' like it," Abby replied, kissing his chest. He could say for all he wanted that he was a dangerous man, but she knew he was good, at least in some places.

"Yeah, could've been worse-"

Abby's phone buzzed.

[Downstairs. Let me in. -Thad]

Abby took out her phone, frowning at the text. "It's Thad. Alrigh' if I let 'im up?"

Spencer rolled his eyes. "I suppose if you must, but if Brandon comes downstairs, out he goes. He gets Brandon too riled," he said, leaning to give Abby another kiss. He unwrapped himself from her, leaning to play with the toddler sized sunglasses again.

Abby dodged down the steps, unlocking the front door for Thad. "It's alrigh', Spencer's taken care of things-"

"Not me," Thad said, his eyes red and puffed. "Ain't got nowhere to go. Been kicked out and fired. Emily and Paul turned me down. Katie wouldn't even answer her phone. Anyone else is too close to kin."

"She kicked you ou'?" Abby asked, moving aside to let him in. "I don' understand. I thought you were doin' so well. Spencer said she kissed you."

"And Scarface proposed and she said yes," Thad barked out. "She came to work and fired me. Said to get ou'. Don't matter how I feel none. Not important. I just need a place to kip for a week or so until I can find something other work. Sofa, floor, don't matter. I just need a roof over my head."

"I mean, it ain't my place. You got to ask Spencer," Abby replied, mood souring at his hard words. She led him upstairs. "Spence, your sister's gone off her nut and kicked Thad out."

"Oh for fuck's sake, really?" Spencer said. "And you just let her?"

"Yeah, boyfriend proposed," Thaddeus replied. "Got a rock the size of the moon on her finger. Not real nice to start an affair that sends her to hospital."

"You sent her into the hospital?" Spencer said, getting up from the coffee table.

"Not on purpose!" Thad said, raising his hands up.

"Shh, shh, shut up, or it will come downstairs and we'll all 'ave a figh'," Abby hissed, eyes glancing up at the ceiling. "Look, what did you do to get yourself kicked ou'? I mean, she can't blame you for the hospital."

"I kissed her, she kissed me," Thad shrugged. "She shows up to work and - shite. Saw you upset and thought we was shaggin'."

"Oh you are an idiot," Spencer said, crossing his arms. "My sister is jealous in the supreme."

"Really? Finch?" Abby asked, plopping down on the sofa with a wince. Her ribs were still smarting and were likely to for a while. "She always seems so sweet."

"Sweet with a sting," Spencer laughed, draping an arm around her. He pulled her in to kiss her hair again. "If you think I'm possessive-"

"But she said she didn't want-"

"Didn't want to be like our mum," Spencer interrupted. "My mother has had various affairs, one broken engagement, two marriages, two children, and lives with most of her exes and her husband. She thinks giving in to two loves means there's room for a third. And after a third, a fourth and who knows from there!" Spencer looked at Abby. "That's rubbish, of course."

Abby perked up and smiled at him. "Oh? I'm glad to hear it."

"Mum always had two," he whispered into her ear. "Dad and Father, Jim and Seb, Jack and Seb. Freya, well, they didn't start as lovers, but Aunt Free and Uncle Ford, she don't talk about, but I know, they've gone there."

"Ah, the little blonde one," Thaddeus grinned. "Your mother-?"

"Definitely shagging her," Spencer agreed.

"How did she have time to- you know, do what she did for a career, if she was so busy shaggin' all those people?" Abby asked. "I wonder what she'd've been capable of if she'd only 'ad one."

"Been insane," Spencer murmured. "She needed them. Like I need you and Bran."

Thaddeus made a gagging sound.

"Oi!" Spencer shot off. "Don't you start, beggar."

"When will we know?" Abby asked, changing the subject suddenly, squeezing Spencer's hand. "Abou' Liam, I mean? I could go an' 'elp your mum, if she wanted."

"No, she'll tell me," Spencer said. "She's got to mind the plan first. I told you, not my forte. Hence the favor."

"You're Mum's going after him?" Thaddeus asked.

"Of sorts," Spencer agreed.

Thaddeus picked up some of the clothes. "That's gonna make him look like a right chav," he snorted. "Abs, no way."

"Spencer picked 'em out. He'll look adorable," Abby said, fingering a tiny pair of skinny jeans. "Y'know. If 'e comes out alrigh'."

"He'll come out-" Spencer said as he heard the door open and close downstairs. "Oh hell, I haven't had so many visitors since Dad and Father were still working in the city."

"Spencer, Brandon?" Vance called upstairs. He wasn't entirely comfortable just letting himself in, but he did have keys.

"Upstairs, Vance," Spencer called.

Thaddeus bolted up out of his chair. "No, no, nope," he said, heading for the kitchen just as Vance made it through the landing.

"Where the hell've you been?" Vance said to Thaddeus. "And where's Finch?"

"Not here, mate," Spencer said. "Why, she not at work?"

"Of course not," Vance said. "Or home, or well- anywhere." He reached out to snag Thaddeus by the back of his leather jacket as he started to sneak behind the tall criminal. "Not so-fast, I may be half-blind but I ain't completely dumb. Why ain't you at home neither?"

"Because you're ruddy wifey kicked me out!"

"She did what?" Vance said, looking confused.

"Sca- Vance!" Abby shouted his name, standing up to step between them. "Finch sawr me askin' Thad a favor and lost 'er head at him. Thought we was kissin' or somethin' like. She kicked 'im out."

"Well, that's just ridiculous," Vance sputtered. "You're with Spencer."

"Yes, she is," Spencer said. "But my sister's an idiot."

"You know, I'm really tired of that implication," Finch said, stepping up the final step. Her tight black clothing outlined every curve of her body, her gun holstered on her wide hip. The child cuddled close in her arms. "I like to think I'm a little clever sometimes."

All eyes turned.

"Oh, hell, it's a baby," Spencer said, actually getting up from the sofa.

"Ababababa!" Liam started babbled, pulling his hand from his mouth to start wiggling on Finch's hip. "Mamammama."

"Oh, oh my God," Abby said, rushing to take the baby from Finch before he kicked her. She hugged him close. Her eyes were shining. "Oh, God, tell your Mum I said thank-"

"Mum didn't do it, I did," Finch told her with a shrug, crossing her arms over her chest. She rolled her eyes. "Well. I guess Mum helped a little."

Spencer stepped around to fold his sister into a hug. "Thank you, Finch," he said, hugging her tightly. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, Spencer," Finch said, rubbing his back. "It seemed important."

"It is," Abby agreed, rocking Liam. She poked his nose. "I missed you, Batman."

Liam giggled. "B'man," he said, pointing at Finch. "Mama, she's b'man," he whispered into her ear, too loudly.

Spencer barked a laugh. "Yes she is."

"Thank you, Finch, thank you," Abby repeated, kissing Liam's face. "I can never repay you."

Admist Liam's giggles, drawing a fascinated Spencer to the little one, Thad and Vance locked eyes before turning on Finch.

"Do you-"

"Have any idea-"

"Safety-"

"Months pregnant!"

"Could've been shot!"

"Or hit, or kicked!"

"Just out of hospital!"

The two men went back and forth on either side of Finch.

"And what were you thinking?"

"Forget that, she went up against my family! She could've been killed!"

"Oh yes, I don't like your gran at all," Finch said, biting her lip, giving Thad big eyes. "Your grandda is, unfortunately, deceased. Sorry."

"Good riddance," Thad said, going to cup Finch's cheek. "Are you alright?"

Finch frowned, like he'd asked a very stupid question. "Of course I'm alright. Why wouldn't I be alright?"

"Because you murdered someone?" Abby suggested.

"Mwuder?" Liam said. Spencer covered the boy's ears.

"I think best to take him to the kitchen for cocoa, yeah?" he said.

Abby nodded, taking the baby into the kitchen. "You want some cocoa? What abou' food? I betcha they ain't even feed you in tha' place-"

"Mum said I had to go. Because I was the one they wanted," Finch said, lips twisting to the side.

"I could've gone," Spencer said.

"No, Gran would've killed you on sight," Thaddeus said. "You didn't get hurt any, did you?"

"I got word that Warren was taken out tonight," Vance said.

"Yes, there were some casualties on both sides, unfortunately," Finch sighed, scratching her arm absentmindedly. "More on theirs, though. But I got the baby out, and that's what matters."

"You're supposed to be resting," Vance said, taking up Finch's other side. "All this excitement, bad for your heart. And you've gone and fired your receptionist."

"Office coordinator," Thad said with his nose in the air.

"He was snogging someone in the actual store," Finch sulked, looking up at Vance with pleading eyes. "It was fair-"

"I told you I was hugging her for bein' upset over her baby," Thad said.

"Shouldn't matter who he snogs, does it?" Vance said, pursing his lips. "Besides, we snogged in Moriarty's more than once." He grinned.

"That's different," Finch said with a huff. "I'm trying to be a professional. I can't have employees snogging girls in the store. Any other boss would've let him go, too. It's common sense." She blushed, though, not wanting to admit how jealous she was anyway.

"We weren't snogging!" Thad repeated.

"He says they weren't snoggin'," Vance said, getting Finch to sit.

"Why are you sticking up for him?" Finch whined. "You're supposed to be on my side."

Feet thundered down the stairs, Brandon passing without even looking in the sitting room. "I heard that slag touch one of my pans- Oh my God you cannot feed that to a baby!"

"Wha' else am I s'posed to feed him?"

"Move over and get out of my way! You're ruining a frying pan that cost me a hundred fifty pounds!"

"Brandon!" Spencer said, heading into the kitchen. "Calm down. He's just come from being traumatized. Besides, I can replace a bloody frying pan."

"She cannot give that to a baby. It's burnt around the edges, he'll choke on it-"

Finch looked up at Vance, waiting for his response. "Well?"

"You- he-" Vance frowned. "His stuff's still at the bloody flat. Besides what if I had really been in Paris when I texted you. What if you'd been alone? Hm? You wouldn't have taken yourself to A&E or called your doctors."

Finch's teeth clicked together, clenched tight as she bit back the response of 'I wouldn't have been at the hospital, I'd've been shagging him'. After a few moments of her lips pressed tight, she said, "I don't like him."

Vance and Thaddeus looked at each other, before sighing and saying, "Yes, you do," in tandem.

"You so do!" Spencer shouted from the kitchen.

"No, you don't!" Brandon shouted with them.

Finch rolled her eyes, standing. "I'm not talking about this right now, with an audience."

"So let's go home, where you were meant to be," Vance said. "Not gallivanting off to do my job."

She huffed, pulling the purple wig off to let her red-gold hair tumble out. "Fine. Let's go. Besides, I bet Abby needs some time alone with the baby."

"Coming?" Vance asked over his shoulder. Thaddeus looked apprehensive, but nodded.

In the kitchen, Spencer was making faces at the baby. He'd always been the youngest, so seeing someone so tiny was rare for him. Liam especially seemed obsessed with his glasses. Little hands pulled the lenses off his face.

"Oi, oi, careful, little bugger," he laughed.

"Someone want to tell me how we ended up with a baby in the flat?" Bran asked, glaring at Abby while he cooked up something for the little one to eat.

"It's her son," Spencer said. "Well, nephew, but semantics. I don't like the Irish on our arses and asked for Mum to take care of things. And Finch did it, since apparently Mum still doesn't trust me for leg work."

"Arrrrrses," Liam repeated.

"Oi, watch the language around the little 'un," Abby said, petting Liam's little head. "We don' say tha' word, love. Alrigh'?"

"Are we keeping it?" Brandon asked.

"Of course, we're keeping it," Spencer said. "Why? Problem?"

Liam looked at Brandon with his big green eyes. He made grabbie hands at the shiny blond haired man. Brandon winced, but he scrunched his fingers back at the child. "Just seems risky. With all the things we get up to. And I do mean all of us."

"Finch is having a baby," Spencer huffed, running his fingers through the little boy's hair. He was so wiggly. "I bet this one is even paper trained."

"You're younger than Finch. Abby's a criminal, not a stay at home mum, and I'm dying," Brandon said, bending to scoop the kid into his arms. He nuzzled it's soft head. "What's your name, kid?"

"Lee-am," the boy said, grabbing straight for that hair. He petted it. "But-but and b'man. Shh. Mysery." He put his finger to his lips.

Abby giggled. "He's goin' to be awful at secrets."

"Liam. That's a good name," Brandon approved, rocking the kid with his head at an odd angle, continuing to stir the sizzling food. "This is weird."

Spencer was smiling though, a completely dopey-in-love look on his face. "I like it," he murmured. "He'll be in school in a few years." He wiggled his fingers at the boy who had stuck his face through Brandon's hair.

"Mama, who dis?" Liam asked, yawning.

"A moron," Abby muttered under her breath. "That's Brandon. He cooks food."

"I'm a chef, there's a difference," Brandon snarked back.

"Hungry," Liam mumbled, kind of dozing as Brandon's easy movements rocked him.

Spencer's eyes were practically twinkling as he looked at Abby. A cat-like grin was spread across his lips. "We'll need to get papers drawn up for him," he said softly.

"Yes please," Abby replied in an almost whisper. "I want 'im. Good an' proper."

"I bet you'll have him," Brandon said, passing the kid back to her so he could grab a little bowl for the warm porridge. "Here, feed him and go find a place for him to sleep."

"He can sleep in the bed tonight," Spencer said. "I'll have to get some of my contacts and our lawyer involved to make sure you have everything appropriate. You'll probably have to go meet with my lawyer tomorrow, sign everything, but I'll make sure it's ready." He leaned over to kiss Abby softly. "Goodnight, little man."

"Byebye," Liam said, opening his mouth for a bite of food.

"Am I to follow?" Bran asked, watching Spencer make to leave. "He's not the only one whose hungry."

"Let's give them a moment?" Spencer suggested, nodding his head.

"Yeah, yeah, alright," Brandon said, waiving good-bye to the kid before heading up the stairs again. "So," he called over his shoulder, "overnight father?"

"Pfft, you said it yourself, I'm too young for that," Spencer said. "You were good with him though. I'd never have known what to feed a kid that age."

"Food is food. You feed people, you need to know what people eat," Brandon brushed off, looking over his shoulder. "You alright with her having a kid? If you're not ready to be a dad, what's going to happen with her?"

"I dunno, figured we could make the downstairs room into theirs?" Spencer shrugged. "Just because we're shagging and involved doesn't mean she wants me to parent her kid. She's hardly going to have him call me 'dad'. Can you imagine?" he snorted.

Brandon turned back to look at him once they were in his room, eyes sharp. Deducing. "Yeah. I could see her wanting that for you."

Spencer laughed, nervous now. "Really?" he rubbed his hands over his arms. "No way. Me.. a dad?" He hadn't considered that liberating the kid might actually put him in position to - be a parent. He'd only thought of reuniting a mother and her son. But Liam wasn't technically her son. But he wasn't technically Spencer's either.

"You might want to tell her that before she goes getting any ideas," Brandon suggested. "Buying baby clothes- I peeked in the sitting room- helping her get him back. You look like you wouldn't mind so much. Don't get her hopes up just to hurt her, Spencer."

"I didn't- realize-" Spencer said. "Would you might helping the little mite eat so I can talk to her? I've no idea what she expects. Fucking hell- Bran, I might've become a dad."

Brandon rolled his eyes, and started back down the stairs. "IQ of a genius, can't figure out common sense."

Spencer's pulse was rising as he followed Brandon. His cousin didn't seem all that phased. Or opposed to the kid. At least outside of the obvious dangers. His palms were sweating when they made it back to the kitchen.

"Ah, Abby," he said. "Bran said he can help feed Liam. I think before I go talking to lawyers and whatnot, we should be clear on the specifics."

"Oi, Batman," Brandon cooed in a soft voice. "Come over here, and if you eat all of that, I'll tell you a story before bedtime."

Abby reluctantly relinquished hold of the small child to the blond man, following Spencer out into the living room. "Yeah, what?"

Spencer had to wrench his eyes away from the little freckled, mocha-baby next to the Ice Man.

"Well they seem fast friends," he said, coughing. "Well, for starter's you've got a couple of options. Depends on whether your sister was registered as birthing Liam in a hospital or not. Any idea?"

"I wasn't really around. All I know is she had him before she died," Abby said, sitting down on the couch, her face drawn tight. "I visited them a few times before she was killed. She didn't talk about any of the legalities."

"I can look into it then," Spencer said sitting next to her and covering one of her hands. "If he doesn't have registration, or even if he does, it's really up to you how you want him listed. I could get you papers, proper ones, to make him yours. Or as hers with you set up as legal guardian. A bit harder to do with -" unemployed, very young, single woman.

"He's mine. I want him," Abby said, squeezing his hand. She looked at him with dark eyes, assessing his every tone and pitch. She shook her head. "I ain't askin' you for anythin' else. He's mine, I can handle 'im. I understand that you're barely out of teen years. I ain't askin' for a dad for 'im."

"You sure?" Spencer asked softly. "I mean, I'm not asking you to leave, not at all, but the boy needs - people. A dad, a mum. Abby, I had two fathers, but I still missed my own mum like crazy. I'm not- I have no claim on the kid, but he's-" He looked back towards the kitchen, something tugging at his chest. "Spencer is an awfully hard name to say."

"Are you breaking up with us?" Abby asked, frowning.

"No!" Spencer said, head whipping around. "What if I was asking to.. be a.. dad.. for him?" His voice was stilted, uncertain.

"Spence, that's a big decision," Abby said, squeezing his hand again. She gave him a weirdly maternal smile. "It's not- It's not somethin' you come back from. Why don' we just take it one nigh' at a time?"

"Oh," Spencer said, disappointed. "If that's what you want-" he said. "I'll just- I'll take care of the papers. Have you got a last name for him? or will he take yours?"

"Spence, don't look like that," Abby said, moving to kiss him, fingers touching his shoulder, holding him close. "I didn't say no. I jus' said you should consider it more. You're so young."

"I'm not young as all that," Spencer said. "And I love you, and I'm certain of that. And between me and Bran we're at least forty." He laughed, trying not to feel so strangely upset.

"I don't want this to affect us, either. I mean, obviously, this will affect us. But- But I do love you," Abby said, kissing him again. "We'll be 'ere for a while yet. I'm jus' askin' for you to go slowly." She grinned. "I've go' a baby to look after. An' you gave 'im back to me."

Spencer nodded. "Okay," he said. "Should I stay with you downstairs or should I tell Bran he needs to share his bed for a bit? I know you want time with him. We'll get him somewhere proper to sleep." He ran his hand over his face laughing. "We've got a baby."

"Will you-" Abby blushed, heart beating fast. "Will you stay? I just- I know it's stupid, but I feel like she could come out an' snatch 'im back."

"He can sleep in the middle," Spencer whispered. "That way he won't roll off the bed."

A high pitched shrieking giggle came from the kitchen.

"It's weird. I wouldn't peg 'im as good with kids," Abby said, standing to return to the kitchen.

"He's quite possibly good with anyone..." when he's sober. 

Liam had both hands on Brandon's cheeks as he sat on the table. "Banana!"

"I'm not a banana!" Brandon giggled, blowing raspberries at the child. "Bran-don."

"Bandonana," Liam squealed. "Mama!"

"Are you having fun?" Abby asked, taking him out of Brandon's arms. It seemed his little feet wouldn't hit the ground today, everyone was cuddling him so close. "I'm so tired, Liam. Will you lay down with Mama?"

"Mmm," Liam grunted. "Byebye, Bananadon."

Spencer tried not to burst into laughter. "Give him a bit of a wash up. I think there should be a set of pyjamas and overnight pants for him in those bags. I'll bring them in shortly, Mama."

"Bath! We've never done a bath," Abby said, taking the laughing little angel into the bathroom. "Splash splash!"

"Everything alright?" Bran asked, leaning back in his chair.

"Apparently I want to be a dad, Banandon," Spencer teased. "She wants me to think on it before making the decision. But I don't think there's not much to be made. Look at him. He's perfect."

"Good. That's good, I guess," Brandon said, giving Spencer an unfathomable look. "You'll be good for them, I think."

Spencer reached out to fix Brandon's child-tangled hair. "Don't leave me, Bran," he demanded softly. "Don't leave us."

Brandon opened his mouth to say something, but clicked it shut again, jaw flexing under thin skin. "Wasn't planning on it. Unless you were goin' to kick me out an use my room as a nursery."

Spencer sighed harshly. "I still haven't worked out how to do the sleeping arrangements yet," he said, leaning down to press his cheek to the top of Brandon's head. "Tonight he'll stay in the bed with me and her. After that, we'll work on it."

"Go, go, be with the little family," Brandon huffed. He leaned up to kiss Spencer. "I'm a wreck. I should get some sleep."

"Yeah, I'll take care of the dishes in the morning. Just leave them in the sink. I love you, Bran," Spencer said. "Go get some rest."

"Love you, too," Brandon whispered, wondering what rabbit hole he'd stepped into.

Spencer gave Brandon a few more loving kisses before heading back into the living room to pick out some pyjamas and things. He met a towel swaddled Liam and half damp Abby in the bedroom. The clothes were a little big on the tiny boy. but he was yawning and listing towards Abby's shoulder as they helped dress him. Spencer really did mean to go back out and get back to work, but pulling away from the sleeping boy and woman were hard.

Liam slept with his fingers in his mouth, and drooled a bit, but the way he clung his other hand in Abby's shirt reminded him quite a bit of his 'mother' indeed.