"Are we there yet?" Birkoff asked, bleary-eyed from lack of sleep. Declan was driving, and Birkoff was supposed to be taking a nap. But he was too strung-out after the events of the night to sleep.

Declan didn't answer. Birkoff couldn't blame him. He was sure he had already asked that question at least four times in the past half hour. But God, he was so tired. He kept seeing what happened, replaying the whole sequence like a bad movie in his head.

He rubbed his cheek against the edge of the seat, spying Zero sitting obediently in the back of the car. "I can't believe he came when Michael called him. He never does that for me."

"Maybe Michael gave him a special incentive."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know. Maybe he told the dog, if you don't show up, you're going to end up as the shish-kebab in some terrorist's lunchbox."

"That's cruel!" Birkoff looked horrified.

"It's only cruel if Michael actually said it, Sey. I made that up."

"Josephine looks totally traumatized, Dec. Whose idea was it to put her into a carrier?"

"Nikita's, I think. So she couldn't run away."

"Well, she doesn't like it one bit."

Declan laughed. "She'll get over it, Sey. She's a cat, for God's sake."

"You know, Declan, you and Michael are so much alike."

"Yeah, well, you and Nikita are the same way about animals."

Declan noted how far ahead the Jeep was and adjusted his speed accordingly. He glanced in the rearview mirror and saw the headlights of the car Neil rented. The ambulance was directly behind that car.

"Declan?"

"Yeah, Sey?"

"I'm going to try to sleep again."

"Okay."

But what Birkoff didn't tell Declan was how he planned to accomplish that. Birkoff lay down on the seat and began to make himself more comfortable. That was when he put his head in Declan's lap.

"Um…what are you doing?"

"Trying to get some sleep."

"By putting your head in my lap?"

"Mmm…your lap is very comfortable." Birkoff shifted again, and Declan could tell this was going to be a very long trip, if he persisted in doing this.

"For who?"

"For who what?"

"For who is my lap comfortable? Not me. Not with your bloody head in it."

Birkoff snickered to himself. "Speak for yourself."

"Oh, go to sleep, Sey. And mind how you move around." Declan tried to concentrate on the road ahead, but his body was exquisitely fine-tuned to Birkoff's.

Minutes later, Declan could feel the shift in muscle tone in Birkoff's body when he finally fell asleep. The weight of his head in Declan's lap was more familiar by then, and Declan reached down to caress Birkoff's cheek with the back of his hand. Birkoff stirred in his sleep, but only to move closer to Declan's hand. "No nightmares for you now, love. I'll keep watch."

By the time they pulled up to the main gates of the chateau, it was early afternoon. Michael was tempted to increase the speed of the little caravan, but he didn't want to jeopardize Walter's health. He entered the keycode for the main gates, and they swung open obediently, welcoming the family back. Michael pulled the Jeep up further and off-road so the others could pass. He stood by the side of the road and waved everyone through, eyes scanning the horizon for anything that did not belong there. He breathed a sigh of relief when he found nothing unusual.

Now they could begin rebuilding their lives. It was going to be hard. As big as the chateau was, there were some bigger-than-life personalities that would be forced to live underneath the same roof. Michael smiled to himself as he walked back to the Jeep. That was part of what made life so interesting.

By the time they unloaded the cars, the Jeep, the babies, and Walter, everyone was ready to fall into a huddled mass of humanity in the main hallway.

"Jesus! If you give me one more thing to do, Michael, I won't be responsible for what happens!" Declan collapsed on the bottom stair of the main staircase, thinking fondly of the bed upstairs.

Michael laughed. "Declan, if you help me set up the generator and the water supply, I won't ask you to do another thing for at least a week."

Declan winced as he stood up again, feeling the pull of overused muscles in his back. "I'm holding you to that, Michael. I swear."

Michael put his arm around the younger man and whispered conspiratorially, "It's just that I don't feel we can relax until we make sure we can't be cut off from power and water. We're safe here, but we're also trapped here, if someone attacks. If they cut off the power or the water…"

Declan nodded. "You're right." He sighed and thought longingly of sleep. "I'm just tired."

"We all are. But we'll rest easier when this is done."

Madeline helped Nikita unpack. It was a long and arduous task, but it had to be done right away. There was no sense in putting it off. They would only be more tired later.

"Nikita, why don't you take a break? Go play with the kids or something."

Nikita smiled patiently. "Birkoff is watching them, Mom. I'm going to finish this last box, and then I'll go out back and see if Michael and Declan feel like eating."

Walter was enjoying his ground-floor room in his new surroundings. "Now this is what I call a room!"

Miranda blushed. "All these pictures of buxom ladies in the altogether! No wonder, Walter!"

"None so beautiful as you, Honey." He winked at her. "Yeah, a guy could definitely get used to a room like this."

Birkoff popped his head in, noting that Walter was just getting settled. "I hate to break it to you, Walter, but this room is scheduled for a re-paint."

"No! Say it ain't so, Birkoff! All these lovelies…gone?"

Birkoff chuckled. "I'm sure you appreciate them from some deep cultural perspective, Walter."

"Well, yeahhhhh…." Walter drawled. "I mean, they're so…."

Birkoff and Miranda both waited in breathless anticipation. Birkoff had a feeling that Walter was likely to get crowned all over again if his answer was too politically incorrect.

Walter glanced at his wife and Birkoff, a tight smile creasing his lips. "French! They're just so damn French! That's it!"

Birkoff breathed a sigh of relief. One more disaster averted.

The kids were easy to distract. They had missed the puppy, Zero, who was now a rather large dog. But like many big dogs, Zero was a pushover with children. He calmly sat there while Chris and Faith poked and tickled him. Connor was too young to do more than stare in the dog's direction, and Birkoff zealously guarded Connor's face against any inadvertent playfulness on the part of dog or child.

Birkoff saw Nikita come out the back entrance and followed her path with his eyes. Just as he'd thought, she was enroute to see Michael. Birkoff could see the two men laboring in the hot sun from where he sat with the kids and the dog. That's why he'd chosen this spot. He wanted to be able to watch Declan working. It was more interesting than he might have thought. Especially when Declan removed his shirt.

He didn't have the heart to remind Declan of the consequences of exposing his pale skin to the heat of the Indian Summer sun. He looked good enough to eat. And if Birkoff had anything to say about it, he wouldn't be outside too much longer.

Nikita called to Michael once she was outside. "Hey, Michael! Are you and Declan getting hungry?"

She stood there, dressed in a pair of faded jeans and a black short-sleeved T-shirt, shielding her eyes from the bright afternoon light. Michael stopped what he was doing just to look at her. He too had removed his shirt, but his body was lightly tanned all over. The contrast between his tanned face and his light green eyes was made all the more startling as he opened his eyes wide at the sight of his wife. "Kita…"

Declan smiled at the unspoken emotion that passed between the two. Hungry was a relative term. Depended on what you wanted…and how easy it was to obtain. He would say Michael was in dire need of sustenance, but it had nothing to do with food.

Declan patted Michael on the back. "Looks like we're breaking for lunch."

Michael glanced at Declan as if he'd forgotten he was there. "We don't have too much more to do…"

Declan frowned. "You want to skip lunch?"

Michael smiled then. "Let's just say I have an ulterior motive for getting done as quickly as possible."

Michael was hot and sweaty and beyond mere exhaustion. None of that mattered now. What mattered was that their work was done. He and Declan could take some much-needed downtime to relax with the rest of the family. Or not. Michael grabbed his shirt and pulled it roughly over his head, uncaring that his hair was a mass of unruly curls now.

He glanced at Declan, who noted the gleam in Michael's eye. Declan had a feeling that even exhaustion couldn't keep Michael away from Nikita now. Michael was hungry, but not for food. Michael smiled enigmatically, and Declan knew that Michael's hidden agenda was about to be revealed. Michael turned to Declan and said in a low voice, "I'm going upstairs to make love to my wife. I don't want to be disturbed unless we're under nuclear attack. Got that?"

Declan nodded, responding with a knowing smile. Plus ca change, plus c'est la meme chose. The more things change, the more they stay the same.

Michael walked past Nikita, and at first, she assumed that he was so tired, he didn't even notice her standing by the back entrance to the chateau. But that was just his first pass. He turned around, a playful grin on his face, and despite his obvious weariness, he was ready to use up whatever energy he had left. On her. "Hey…"

"Hey…" she echoed. "Where are you going in such a hurry?"

"Upstairs." He held her hands, idly swinging them back and forth. His eyes explored what she would swear later was every inch of her body. "To bed."

"This early?" she asked diffidently. "You must be tired, Michael. I'll save you something to eat."

He pulled on her hands, bringing her body into tight alignment with his. His hands roamed down her back to her buttocks and stayed there. "I'm not hungry," he whispered into her ear. "And I'm not as tired as you think I am."

She gazed at him wistfully, her tongue flicking out to lick her lips, and he couldn't tease her another second. His mouth claimed hers in a kiss that seemed to transfer all of the heat in his lambent green eyes to her groin.

He broke off the kiss, a tiny pop of sound exploding between the two of them as contact ended. She looked every bit as stunned as he felt inside. There was something about coming that close to facing death that often made people want to reaffirm life in some tangible way. In their case, they wanted to make love with an urgency that was barely controllable. The fact that they were trying to create another life only added to their pressing need to be together.

Michael stepped back, holding onto one of Nikita's hands, and literally pulled her behind him as he entered the chateau. They walked fairly briskly through the hallways without encountering anyone until they came to the main staircase.

Madeline smiled peacefully. "I see you found Michael, Nikita."

She nodded without speaking, not trusting her voice not to squeak.

"Well, you two must have a lot to catch up on." With that, Madeline dismissed the couple. Michael deliberately avoided eye contact with Madeline as he passed her, and Madeline studiously averted her eyes from Nikita's as well. There were some things that a mother didn't need to know, and somehow, Madeline sensed, this was one of them.

Nikita giggled softly as she and Michael hit the top of the stairs almost in a dead run. He swung her up and off her feet, letting her down very slowly, allowing her lower body to graze his. He joined their mouths again, gently but inexorably pushing her towards the door of their suite. Backed up against the door finally, Nikita stopped. Michael slid his hands under her T-shirt, pleased that she wore no bra. Wrenching her T-shirt up to her neck, he licked the tip of one breast with his tongue. She closed her eyes and gasped at the arc of wet heat that penetrated her there. "Michael!" she whispered as loudly as she dared. "What if someone sees us?"

He slid his knee between her legs, creating an ache that could only be relieved by one thing. "There's no one else upstairs…for now."

"But we should go inside."

"I don't know if I can wait that long."

"How long could it take to open the door?" she asked, incredulous.

He groaned. "You'd be surprised. I think it's locked." He kissed her. Hard. His eyes were the most vivid shade of green she had seen yet. "And I haven't got the key on me."

Nikita started to giggle. Michael rubbed his hand between her legs until she sighed. "Where-where did you leave the key, Michael?"

"I can't remember."

The laughter that threatened to erupt was nearly beyond Nikita's control. Exasperated, Michael said, ‘Don't you dare laugh, my Kita, or you'll be sorry."

"Not as sorry as you'll be if you start something you can't finish! Oh!" Nikita collapsed laughing, finally sitting down on the carpet with a thump. Rolling over onto her side, Nikita continued to laugh until tears ran down her cheeks.

"Oh, Michael." She opened her eyes to find him lying on his side, too, watching her with an intense expression that was neither hurt nor disappointment, but somehow both. "Oh, Michael," she repeated, in an entirely different tone.

"Come here, love," she whispered, trying to make amends. Her finger rubbed back and forth against his mouth until he grabbed it and kissed it. Slowly but surely, he drew her finger into his mouth and sucked on it.

"I want to bury myself so deep inside you, I never have to come out again, Kita," he whispered to her. "But I can't," he finished, almost in tears from the physical ache he felt being this close to her.

"I know, love, I know," she said, trying to soothe his injured feelings. "We'll be together later, Michael."

"You'll be asleep. We both will be."

She stroked his face, at once sensual and childlike. "It'll be that much better after we've rested."

He blinked sleepily at her. She lay back on the carpet, bracing her upper body against the wall, and Michael slowly gave in to the demands his body was making on him. Sleep now outweighed any other need he had. He pulled her T-shirt down and lay his head against her breast, sliding his hands around her waist.

"I love you, doucette," he murmured drowsily.

She gently brushed his hair back with her fingers. "I love you, too, Michael."

Mere minutes later, Declan trudged wearily upstairs, looking surprised to see the two of them entwined in the hallway. Before he could speak, however, Nikita warned him, "Don't say a word, Declan. And Declan….if you value your life, you won't laugh."

He looked affronted. "I wouldn't dream of it, Nikita. I just came up here to drop something off. I thought you two might need it."

She frowned. "Oh? What's that?"

Declan managed to look completely innocent. It was a gift, truly it was. "The key. To your room. Michael dropped it outside when he took off his shirt."

Nikita choked on a bubble of laughter. She continued to stroke Michael's hair back from his face, and then she did what any loving wife would do. She said nothing.

Nikita slid out from under Michael, gently lowering him all the way down to the carpet. She looked up at Declan helplessly. "Declan," she hissed, "help me unlock the door and get him inside. I can't put him to bed by myself."

Declan gave her an assessing glance. "He looks pretty comfortable where he is, if you ask me."

"I'm not going to argue with you, Declan. He can't sleep in the hallway."

"I don't see why not, Nikita. It's his bloody hallway."

"Are you always this oppositional?"

He nodded. "Ask Sey." He smiled brightly at Nikita, but the glare she gave him would have scorched the paint off the walls. "I'm helping, I'm helping."

He bent down and took Michael's legs, while Nikita took Michael's shoulders. All at once, Declan remembered that he hadn't unlocked the door, and they were forced to put Michael back on the carpet for a moment. Declan rummaged through his pockets in vain. "I just had it a second ago. Remember? I showed it to you."

Nikita gritted her teeth in frustration. It must be a test. It had to be. she only wished she knew if she were getting a passing grade.

"Oh! Here it is." Declan produced the key and unlocked the suite door. He then handed the key to Nikita. "I don't want to hold onto it another second. I might lose it. Then where would you be?"

"Somewhere in the hall?" Nikita smiled sweetly, but her tone was sarcastic.

"You're not happy. I can see that. Let's see if we can do something about that. Right now." Declan resumed his former position at Michael's feet, and together, they managed to move Michael into the bedroom without waking him. After depositing Michael on the bed, Declan started to leave, but Nikita called him back.

"Declan. Michael needs a bath. But if I put him in the bathtub, he'll drown. Can you stay and bathe him for me?"

Declan's eyes nearly popped out of his head. "Are you serious? Do you want to get me killed? Do you have any idea what would happen if Sey came in and saw me bathing your husband in the flesh, as it were?"

Just at that moment, Birkoff came upstairs, having brought the children inside and left them with Madeline. "Declan!" he called out.

Declan flushed, looking as guilty as if he had actually done what he was thinking about doing. "Hark! I think I hear my master's voice!" Declan moved towards the doorway, but Nikita's voice froze him to the spot.

"If you don't help me, Declan, I'll tell Birkoff you actually like the dog…." Nikita threatened with a lilt in her voice.

He sighed. "What makes you think I don't want him to know?"

"Cause if he knew, he'd already have that dog sleeping in between the two of you…and somehow I don't think that's how you envisioned life together."

"I do like the dog, Nikita. It's just that when I want to hold something in the middle of the night, it better not be the damned dog."

Nikita heard Birkoff approaching. "Five seconds, Declan."

"Okay. But what am I supposed to tell Sey?"

"You'll think of something." Nikita patted Declan affectionately on the back.

Declan shrugged. "Sure, easy for you to say."

Birkoff appeared in the doorway, and Declan immediately blocked him from coming any further into the room. He draped himself casually across the doorframe and smiled. "Hi."

"Hi, Declan." Birkoff frowned. "Aren't you coming to bed? I'm wiped out. You must be running on empty, too."

Declan nodded. "Yeah, I am. Only I…uh…I have to help Nikita move…"

Nikita kicked Declan lightly and unobtrusively on the leg.

"…furniture. We have to move some furniture. Otherwise, Michael…can't sleep. That's what…what we're going to do."

"You are such a bad liar, Declan." Birkoff snorted derisively. Declan became so flustered, he couldn't do much more than stammer.

"It's okay, I'm sure whatever it is, it's much more important than sleeping with me!" Birkoff stalked away, and if Declan hadn't been leaning on the door itself, he was sure that was the only thing keeping Birkoff from slamming it.

Declan stared after Birkoff, his mouth hanging open. "Nikita?"

"Yes?"

"You just ruined my entire night." Declan looked so dejected, Nikita might have taken pity but for the fact that Michael slept on and looked to be down for the count for the entire night.

"Well, you know what they say. Misery loves company."

Declan looked at Nikita. "Surely you can undress him. I'll run the bath."

Nikita smiled. "But not too deep. I don't want to drown him."

"Heaven forbid," came the reply from the bathroom. Nikita began giggling, and it was all she could do to keep from laughing hysterically. She pressed a kiss to Michael's forehead, and he opened his eyes a sliver.

"Is it morning already?" he slurred.

"No, love, go back to sleep."

"I was having the nicest dream…"

"Was I in it?"

He smiled sweetly, his face so open and unguarded, he looked years younger. "Of course," he responded in a whisper that trailed off as he fell back to sleep.

Declan came back into the room in time to catch Nikita cradling her husband's head in her arms. He stood there for a moment without speaking. "He looks so peaceful."

"Yes," she said, knowing her mood had suddenly swung the other way, leaving her on the verge of tears again.

"Look, I'm sorry I was giving you a hard time. I guess we're all a bit stressed out after last night."

"I understand, Declan. I'm sorry, too, if I made things uncomfortable between you and Birkoff."

"He'll get over it, I hope."

"I'll explain what happened."

"No, don't. He knows I'm not interested in Michael." Declan came around to Nikita's side of the bed and helped her lift Michael once more. "But more to the point, maybe…he knows I love him to death."

Birkoff listened from the doorway. He hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but he couldn't bear the thought of going to sleep with angry words between him and Declan. So he came back to Michael and Nikita's room to apologize to Declan for jumping all over him.

"I know you do, Declan."

Declan and Nikita both turned and looked in Birkoff's direction. Birkoff took a tentative step into the room. "You guys look like you could use an extra hand. Want some help?"

Nikita smiled and nodded to Declan. Declan gratefully acknowledged Birkoff's offer to help, and Birkoff helped lift Michael off the bed. Together, the three of them were able to move Michael into the bathroom. Birkoff had the same reservations about removing Michael's clothing as Declan did, and he said so.

Nikita laughed. "He's out for the count, Birkoff. He'll never know."

"Won't he wonder how he got undressed?"

"Once he's back in bed, he won't care how he got undressed. Trust me." Birkoff took one look at Nikita's face and blanched. "Now you're scaring me, Nikita."

"I have this mysterious power over men, Birkoff, didn't you know?"

Birkoff shook his head. "Nope, doesn't work on me."

Declan regarded his lover quite affectionately. "I'm really glad to hear that."

Birkoff blushed. After Michael was stripped of his clothing, they lifted him up and gently lowered him into the tub. He never even stirred. Nikita said, "I can take over from here, guys. I'll call you if I can't get him out of the tub."

"Oh, please do," quipped Declan, "I haven't seen legs like that in such a while."

"I knew it, you think Michael's attractive, don't you, Declan?"

Declan stared at Birkoff, then burst out laughing. "Well, Sey, unless you're dead or lying, you do, too! A man'd have to be completely daft not to want a pretty thing like him in his bed."

"I can't believe you said that!"

"And I can't believe you never noticed till now! You've been around him a lot longer than I have. You never once thought about it?"

Birkoff looked completely horrified. "No!"

"Look, I know Michael would be terribly flattered, but you guys are never going to get him away from me, so just get over yourselves, okay?"

The two men looked at Nikita and started laughing uproariously. Until Nikita warned them. "If you two wake him up, I'll tell him you were planning a menage a trois, with him as the main course."

"Excuse me, gotta go," Birkoff said, rushing through the bathroom door so quickly Nikita almost thought she had imagined him.

Declan waved and started backing up, then turned suddenly and raced out of the room after Birkoff.

Nikita took the washcloth and soaped Michael's chest. He groaned and his eyelids fluttered, but he didn't completely awaken. She leaned over Michael, abruptly realizing just how awkward it was to do it from outside the tub. She stood up and began to disrobe. When she was naked, she slid slowly into the tub, facing Michael. That was better. Now she didn't have to worry about whether or not she got wet.

She lathered his arms and rinsed them, all without incident. But when she moved on to soaping his lower body, he opened his eyes without any warning at all. She wasn't sure how much he was really seeing, considering how tired he looked, but he clearly registered her presence.

"Oh, God, Kita…" He pulled her down to his face and her hair fell in his eyes, but he didn't care…because her mouth was warm and wet and open for him to enter… Michael stirred restlessly under Nikita, unsure if he was dreaming or awake.

"Are you really here?" he asked in a suspicious tone.

Resisting the temptation to splash water on him and prove how real she was, Nikita settled for sticking out her tongue. He licked her mouth, evidently deciding that she was indeed real and not a product of his overactive imagination. He shifted his position in the tub and reversed roles with Nikita, pressing her back against the tub.

When she felt his arousal brush against her abdomen, she sighed. No one was as capable of doing the impossible as Michael. No one. And as usual, he had managed to rise to the occasion.

Michael lifted Nikita out of the tub, and for a full minute, they stood on the cold marble floor, droplets of water still coursing down their bodies. When he finally moved, it was to grab a huge white towel hanging over their heads and wrap it around both of them. "I'm afraid to close my eyes for fear…"

"…that you'll fall back asleep?" Nikita offered cheerfully.

"No…I just don't want you to disappear…"

"And miss the good parts? Not a chance." She slipped her arms around his neck and the proximity of her body to his aroused its familiar ache.

He pulled on her, leading her back to their bedroom. "Come with me."

He walked her to the bed, and they fell together in a heap of wet towel and bed linens. "Michael! We haven't made love in a bed in a long time."

He ripped the towel from their bodies. "At this point, I'll take it any way I can get it."

She ran her foot up the inside of his leg, all the way up his muscular thigh until she touched his groin. He grabbed her foot and spread her legs for his entry into the heart of her. When their bodies were joined at last, Nikita sighed with a combination of desire and relief. It always felt this way. As if he were a missing part of her that had returned to her. He was. The other half of her. Body and soul.

As if he read her mind, he said, "Now we're complete again. You're what I needed. You're what I always need. More than food. More than sleep."

Her body relaxed and welcomed him inside, as deep as he could go. "I don't even want to move. I just want to stay here…inside you," he whispered. He held her face with his hands, but his touch was light, the gentlest of caresses upon her sensitized skin. He nudged her mouth with his, softly but insistently, begging her to open to him again. She wet her lips with her tongue, and he was lost.

She reached up and kissed his ear, his neck, his chin, and he returned the favor by nibbling on her lower lip until she thought she would expire. His arousal throbbed within her, a constant reminder of where they had yet to go, but neither of them was in a hurry to consummate the act.

He made his way down to her breasts almost lazily, licking her nipples until they stood erect. She ran her hands through his hair, her fingers tangling in the numerous curling tendrils that clung wetly to the back of his neck. Trying desperately not to move under his sensual assault, she gasped excitedly, and he caught the sound in a hot, open-mouthed kiss that took the rest of her breath away.

Slowly and very tentatively, he rocked against her lower body, feeling her answering shudder. "Oh, Michael, I dunno how much longer I can hold on."

He kissed the side of her face, near her temple, as her brilliant blue eyes closed. She ran her hands up and down his arms, as he loomed over her, and she knew she was dangerously close to going over the edge, with or without him. "Please…" she pleaded.

"Please what?" he asked, his lips to her ear. His pace remained unhurried, but he could feel her struggling towards completion.

"Please…" Her eyes snapped open suddenly, pinning him with their electric blue light. He felt her muscles tighten in anticipation, and he didn't wait for her to finish her plea. His body clenched in response to hers, he rocked faster and harder, surging into her wet heat with such force, it intensified both their climaxes. He buried his face beside her neck with a groan. Nikita arched prettily, her breasts grazing his chest, as she hugged him to her.

He lay on top of her, his weight strangely welcome, as it was a reminder of their continued closeness. Her fingers intimately playing with his mouth, Nikita savored the aftermath as much as the act itself. "Michael?"

"Mm?" he murmured, uncertain if he even had the strength left to sever the connection of their bodies.

"I love you."

She felt his lips curve into a smile against her hand, and she knew his response was coming right behind that smile. "I love you, too."

He rolled over onto his back, keeping their bodies joined at the core, sliding his hands down her back to her waist. Grabbing the still-damp towel, he threw it off the bed. Not making much of an effort to disentangle the bed linen, Michael pulled what sheets and blankets he could around Nikita. "Now we can sleep."

She felt her eyes shutting of their own accord, but there was something trying to make its presence known to her mind. "Michael, I don't think the door is locked."

He wrapped his arms around her, kissed her tenderly, and said, with uncharacteristic abandon, "Ask me if I care."

She giggled, and he pulled her against his chest, where she finally lay her head. She snuggled closer, and before they knew it, they were both sound asleep in each other's arms.

Birkoff closed the door behind him, amazed at just how much he had missed this room. Although he loved the room he shared with Declan at Michael and Nikita's house, this room held special meaning for him. It was filled with the echoes of whispered confidences in the middle of the night. It was filled with the fading resonance of shouted cries of love in the middle of the day.

Birkoff barely glanced at Declan as he went into the bathroom to prepare for bed. He was so tired. They both were. Declan even more so. It would be too much to ask that they do anything more than hold each other close through the coming night.

His face lathered with shaving cream, he tried to stay awake long enough to finish shaving. Declan pushed open the door behind him and stared at him sleepily. "Sorry, I can wait."

"It's okay, Dec. I'm almost done."

Declan gazed at Birkoff almost reverently. "You missed a spot. Here, let me help." He retrieved the razor and carefully slid it down Birkoff's left cheek, near his hairline. "That's better."

Declan put the razor down and kissed the spot he had just shaved on Birkoff's left cheek. Birkoff giggled. "Hey, that tickles."

"It wasn't meant to, Sey." Declan licked the same spot. "Does it still tickle?"

"N-no," Birkoff said in a shaky voice. "Um…are we going to bed to sleep? Or to…?"

Declan kissed him on the mouth. "We'll sleep eventually. When we can't stay awake a moment longer."

"You're all full of shaving cream now." Birkoff's eyes slid over Declan's face, fixing on his mouth.

Declan shrugged. "So are you." Birkoff burst out laughing. "I won't kick you out of bed for it, though."

"If you give me a minute, I'll wash it off, Dec." Declan backed Birkoff up against the door, a curiously intense look on his face. "Haven't got a minute to give you, Sey."

Declan knocked the can of shaving cream out of Birkoff's hand. Grey eyes glittering dangerously, Declan advanced on Birkoff until there was nowhere else for him to go. "Screw shaving."

Declan grasped Birkoff's face between both hands and kissed him with a fervor that left both of them breathless. "I want you. In that bed. Now."

"What if I don't want to go?"

Declan ran his hand down the front of Birkoff's body, stopping when he felt his obvious arousal. "This doesn't lie."

Birkoff felt strangely buoyant, playing this game with Declan. "Maybe I was thinking of Michael's…legs."

Declan's eyes darkened all at once. "I don't care who you think of as long as you make love to me." Pause. "Just don't tell me about it."

Birkoff's dark eyes gleamed feverishly. "I don't need any extra help fantasizing about what you do to me, Dec."

"Christ, you're making me crazy!" Declan rubbed his face against Birkoff's cheek, the shaving cream making the surface slippery. He groaned at the texture of Birkoff's skin. So soft. So sweet. Like him.

Declan sighed heavily. "If you don't get into bed soon, I swear I'm going to take you right here on the floor."

Birkoff almost purred. But he didn't move. He leaned back against the door of the bathroom and his eyes fell to the bathmat on the floor. Declan's eyes grew wide. "You little tease! That's what you want!"

"I'm so shallow." Birkoff would have been convincing if it hadn't been for the trace of a grin shaping his mouth.

Declan didn't have the energy to play any more games. He needed to make love to his lover. Now.

They undressed each other, throwing their clothes into the empty bathtub. When Declan looked at Birkoff again, he threw his arms around his neck and pressed a kiss to the side of his face. "I love you, Sey. And I'm going to show you how much." He rocked from side to side, holding Birkoff in his arms, finally coming to rest after a few moments.

Together they sank to the floor, their mouths seeking each other. Declan lay his partner on his back on the mat, staring at him for the longest time, his long red hair unbound and trailing gently over Birkoff's chest. Birkoff didn't know what Declan was thinking, but he knew his own feelings. Tracing an idle pattern up and down Declan's arm with his fingertips, Birkoff gazed back at the one who held his heart. "Kiss me."

"I will." And Declan made it true. Again and again, he dipped his head, to drink from his lover's mouth.

When neither of them could wait any longer, Birkoff whispered, "Love me."

And Declan gave him his answer. "I do."