"Adam, if we don't get out of here-"

"Ssh," Adam whispered, still holding onto his lover. "We'll be okay."

"I'm so sorry," Jazz murmured against Adam's neck.

"Not your fault, Nick." Adam rubbed his knuckles over Jazz' cheek and sighed. "All you wanted was a cup of coffee."

Against his will, Jazz smiled weakly. "Never again."

"You're swearing off coffee?" Adam chuckled, the vibration sending shivers down Jazz' spine. "Nahh, without caffeine, how will you stay up late at night to study?"

"I don't even know what I'm majoring in, Adam. And I don't do anything late at night…that has anything to do with studying, anyway."

"Bad boy," Adam said softly, surreptitiously pressing a kiss to Jazz' ear.

"I feel like I ruined our trip-"

"Hey," Adam cupped Jazz' chin and looked intently into his vivid green eyes. "It's not over yet."

"What are we going to do?" Jazz asked plaintively.

"Wait." And pray someone powerful enough to do something comes walking through that door, Adam thought.

They heard a noise and turned as one. "Speak of the devil," Adam said, his eyes widening in response to what he saw.

Chris folded his arms in front of his chest and glared at his half-brother. "I was trying to get you and Jazz out of this place. Is that all the thanks I get?"

"Are we being released?" Adam questioned.

"No," Chris admitted reluctantly.

"Well, then, we're not thanking you, okay?" Jazz quipped, anxiety sharpening his tone.

Chris frowned. "I'm sorry, okay?"

Jazz looked up, and for the first time since he'd come in, Chris could see the toll that this was taking on Jazz' nerves. Catching his breath on a sob, Jazz whispered, "They took away the necklace you gave me…and they wouldn't even let me keep my ring." Adam stared helplessly at Jazz' bare left ring finger. "We'll get them back, baby," Adam vowed huskily.

That made Chris even angrier than before. "Dammit, they wouldn't take a straight guy's wedding ring. That's just not fair."

"What's not fair?" Emmy asked, coming up behind Chris with the stealth of her Irish father.

"What are you doing here?" Chris cried.

"I'm glad to see you, too," Emmy said, pursing her lips. "I came to help."

"Well, unless you brought a lawyer, I don't think you can. Help, that is."

"I did better. I brought Connor and Fee and Skye and Sasha-"

"Jesus," Chris exclaimed, raking a hand through already disheveled hair. "You want to make things worse?"

"I don't think they could be," Jazz whispered. "At least, not from where I'm standing."

"I thought they weren't letting anybody down here. They said-" Adam began.

"They said a lotta shit, Adam, but don't worry. We'll get you out. Sooner or later. And it won't even take a fucking lawyer."

Jazz blinked. "It won't?"

"Nah…I called Da. He's on his way."

"Oh, fuck," said Adam, burying his face in Jazz' hair with a groan. "Just what I need. The fucking cavalry coming to the rescue and staging a jailbreak."

"They're gonna lock us up and throw away the key," Jazz said, his hands tightening on Adam's shoulders.

Emmy stared at him in disbelief. "I never took you for someone who gives in easily, Jazz. I'm surprised at you."

"You're not gay."

"What's that got to do with it?"

Jazz sighed. "It's sorta like being in the minority."

"Da will take care of that. He likes being in the minority," Emmy said agreeably, her pale grey eyes sparkling. "That way he gets to show people how things should be done."

Jazz groaned. "Oh, God, we're all gonna die."

"No one's gonna die. Da knows what he's doing," Sasha replied impatiently.

"Well, I'm glad someone does. No one else here seems to," Jazz snapped.

"Baby," Adam murmured, "I don't think it's a good idea to piss off the rest of them here."

Jazz broke away from Adam with a cry and leaned his forehead against the bars of the holding cell. "This trip was supposed to be special for us." The mournful note in Jazz' voice tore at Adam's heart.

"For all of us, Jazz. Not just you," Faith said.

"Yeah." Jazz wrapped his fingers around the metal bars and studied his naked left hand. "I've never taken it off. Not since that night…when you gave it to me."

"It doesn't mean anything, Nicky," Adam hastened to reassure his lover.

"It's bad luck, y'know," Jazz continued as if Adam hadn't spoken.

"Why didn't I think of that?" Faith said, smacking herself in the forehead. Adam glared at his half-sister before turning back to his lover with sympathetic eyes. He quickly slid the ring that Jazz had given him off his finger. Pulling Jazz' left hand away from the bars, he slipped the ring onto Jazz' ring finger. "You can wear mine till we get yours back, baby."

Unshed tears glistened in Jazz' eyes, and Adam wished that he could do more than hug him. He pressed his lips to Jazz' ring finger. "We're still married, y'know. You can't get away from me that easy."

"Oh, mannnn. The aw factor is getting mighty deep in here," Sasha chuckled. "You want us to go back upstairs?"

"Don't you dare leave us here," Adam said with palpable urgency. "We need you guys."

"Not so's you could notice," Sasha replied with a twinkle in his dark eyes.

"Well, you gotta wait for your dad. You might as well wait here."

Sasha pretended to consider that and eventually shook his head affirmatively. Suddenly there was an audible change in the general noise level in the police station. They couldn't see what was going on from where they were, but they were getting an earful. "I want to see my son and daughter!"

"Da's here!" Sasha whispered.

"Yeah, he really knows how to make an entrance, huh?"

When Declan strode downstairs to join them, he surveyed the beleaguered group of teenagers. "This is the last place I expected to see any of you."

Sasha said, "Same here."

Declan raised an eyebrow in his usual imperious manner. "I would've come sooner, but I had to collect a friend or two."

When Declan waved his hand, two figures mysteriously appeared, seemingly from nowhere. "We're just the back-up team," Michael said.

"Jeez, if you're the back-up team, who the hell's on the dream team?" Adam asked his father. "This isn't like a mission or something, is it? Cause those usually end badly, for some reason."

"How would you know?" Davenport countered, his dark eyes gleaming with amusement.

"Listen, just get us the hell out of here, and please don't shoot anyone, okay?"

The police officer with the keys to the holding cell whirled around and stuttered, "Y-you h-have g-guns?"

Declan smiled slowly. It was a cold smile that didn't reach his eyes, and anyone who knew him understood that Declan didn't need to explode to be dangerous.

"You need to ask yourself…would we really walk into a police station with guns?"

The police officer glanced nervously at Declan, as if trying to size him up. He didn't seem to be doing all that good a job, however.

"I can't let all of you in here at once," he said, somehow concluding that the three men wouldn't be as big a threat if they were separated.

"I think you must have misunderstood me," Declan said calmly. "I wasn't asking you to let my kids go. I was telling you."

"But—*your* kids aren't being held."

Michael stepped forward until he stood shoulder to shoulder with Declan. "No…they're mine. Do you have a problem with that?" Michael's voice was deceptively soft. His gray-green eyes flickered with something indefinable and the police officer reacted to whatever he saw by taking a big step back.

"I-I don't have the paperwork to release them."

"Then get it," Davenport said in a tone that indicated it wasn't a suggestion.

"Who are you people?"

Adam grinned at his father. "That's my Dad."

Michael strode over to the cell door and rapped his leather-gloved knuckles on the bars. "Are you all right, Jazz?" As usual, Michael managed to surprise his son. He might not have wanted his son to be gay, or to get seriously involved with anyone at his age, but he was steadfast when it came to supporting his family. And make no mistake about it, now that Jazz was for all intents and purposes married to Adam, Michael considered him part of the family.

"Yeah. Thanks." Jazz still felt like his legs wanted to run away with him, but he was in much better control now that Adam's extended family was there.

Michael turned his attention back to the policeman. "You don't seem to have moved. Are we going to have words?"

"Um…I need to talk to my supervisor."

Declan raised an eyebrow imperiously and drifted closer, his manner even more predatory than before. "Open the fucking door."

Sasha's mouth dropped open. "Da!"

Declan's head swiveled around to cast a harsh look at his son before returning to its earlier position. With a barely contained sigh, Declan repeated his command…with one small change. "Okay, open the fucking door…please."

"That's better," quipped Sasha.

Davenport stifled a chuckle and hid a smile when Declan turned to glare at him. "Hey, don't look at me."

Jazz rubbed the unfamiliar ring on his hand as he studied the older men flanking the policeman. He had never felt so relieved to see them before.

Adam, emboldened by his father's presence, wrapped an arm around Jazz' shoulders. He wanted to be the one to protect his mate, but he knew enough to see that there was nothing more he could do, and he was grateful for his father's help. Truly. And if they didn't let Jazz go soon, he was seriously contemplating revenge. Not just on the police, but on the original men who went after Jazz.

He didn't care how he had to mark his territory. No one touched Jazz but him, and no one touched Jazz in anger. Ever.

He felt Jazz shiver, and instantly he was all over his lover. "Nick?" he whispered.

"I'm all right," Jazz reassured him, but he shivered again.

Adam turned to his father and slid his fingers through the bars. "Dad, we need to get Nick out of here. Now."

Michael touched his gloved fingertips to his son's briefly, his eyes deeply shadowed. "Consider it done," he vowed huskily.

"Open the door," he told the police officer.

"I told you-"

Declan waved his hand sharply, cutting an almost visible swath through the air. "That's enough out of you. If you can't do anything, get us someone who can. Or we'll take matters into our own hands."

"I say we don't wait one more minute for this yahoo," Davenport growled.

The police officer winced and began to back out of the narrow corridor. "I'll be r-right b-back."

When the man was gone, Declan motioned to Davenport with a jerk of his head. The older man immediately went to work on the lock of the holding cell door. In mere seconds, the door swung open. Davenport grinned as he brandished his lockpick. "Not much call for this kind of thing outside of captivity. Finally, I get a chance to do something I'm good at."

"Polishing the good work habits, eh, Dav?" Declan remarked, shooting an ironic look in his companion's direction.

"You're just jealous."

Sasha burst out laughing, but a fleeting glance from his father quelled any further amusement.

Adam pulled Jazz free of the cell, but the younger man continued to look somewhat under the weather. Jazz swiped at his face with the back of his hand. He was sweating, though it was actually quite cool in the holding area. "I don't feel too good," he complained to Adam.

Adam wrapped his arms protectively around his lover. 'You didn't get a chance to eat anything. You must be starving."

"Ugh. Don't even mention food."

"He's probably a little shocky," Declan offered. "We'll take you straight back to the hotel as soon as we clear this asshole's paperwork," he said with a defiant roll of his light gray eyes.

"Da, I don't get to see you this way often enough," said Sasha, looking remarkably like Birkoff.

"Don't mention this to your father, all right?" Declan asked.

"You mean he doesn't know? Where does he think you are?" Sasha exclaimed incredulously. "You can't keep stuff from him! You know he's going to be pissed when he finds out! And he will find out, Da!"

"Jesus, I've got two of you now!" Declan cried in an exasperated tone.

"You know I'm right, Da."

Declan grumbled under his breath for a few more moments before pulling out his cell phone. "Sey?" Declan frowned. "Where are you?"

"What do you mean, you're not at home? How the hell am I talking to you then?"

Sasha snickered. Declan glared at his son before continuing his conversation with Birkoff. "You patched through to what? I'm coming over there now. Don't-"

"What? What do you mean, stay put?"

Declan looked stunned for all of thirty seconds. "Da? What happened?"

"He hung up on me, that's what bloody well happened. He knows. Not only that, he says he's got evidence that Jazz is innocent."

"That's great!" Adam cried, reassured to see Jazz manage a weak smile.

"He snagged the video surveillance tape out of the convenience store that Jazz went to this morning. The whole bloody thing is on tape."

"So why the hell didn't the police check out this tape before they arrested him?" Adam demanded, his good mood shattered.

"That's a damn good question, isn't it?" Declan said rhetorically.

Davenport all but rubbed his hands together. "I say we crack us open a fresh barrel of whup-ass."

"I'm going to fucking kill someone," Declan declared, as serious as a heart attack.

"Isn't that what I just said?" Davenport asked cheerfully.

Chris looked wide-eyed from Davenport to Declan to his father. "Come on, Dad, you're the voice of reason. Say something. Please."

Michael sighed. "We can't kill anyone, Declan. It wouldn't be right. We've got lives and children now. We can't afford to jeopardize any of that."

"Dammit, I hate it when you're right," Declan growled.

Michael nodded faintly. "You know how it is. You can't kill just one. You have to kill them all. Besides, where would we hide all those bodies?"

"See how easy that was?" Sey commented. "No bloodshed, no nothing."

"Just like that, they dropped the fucking charges," Declan said sarcastically, his elegant features grim.

"Yep."

"You didn't *give* them the tape, did you?"

"What d'ya think? I just fell off the turnip truck?"

"God, I love it when you're witty," Declan said, a sardonic smile twisting his lips.

"Look, just because you missed an opportunity to crack heads together-"

"Oh, right, you're in so much better control than I am."

"I am."

"Fuck you."

"Not on a bet."

Declan felt Michael's eyes on him and managed an apologetic look. "We'll discuss this at home," Declan growled at his lover.

"That's what you think."

"Stop trying to have the last word."

"I'm *not*."

"You are *so* dead."

Sey laughed merrily and walked away. Declan glared after him and vowed that he would show Sey a thing or two later.

"So what are we doing?" Davenport asked.

"Let's get the hell out of here," Declan snarled, realizing that Sey had left him behind.

"You do miss the mayhem, don't you?" Davenport asked rhetorically.

"What do *you* think?? Declan bit off.

"I think Birkoff needs to adjust your fucking attitude, man."

Declan tried not to laugh, but eventually something had to give, and he broke into a big grin. "He tries, Dav. He tries."

Suddenly Sasha was at Declan's elbow. "Da, I hope you don't think we're all falling for that grumpy-ass routine you do with Dad."

When Declan could do nothing but stare at his son, Sasha continued, "I mean, you two have been doing that for years. You realize you're using it as foreplay, right?"

"What the fuck do *you* know about foreplay?" Declan hissed.

"Quite a lot, actually," Sasha retorted, belatedly concluding that tweaking his father in front of the others might not have been one of his more inspired ideas. He could *hear* Declan thinking out loud, and he leaped into the silence with both feet. "But not as much as *you*, Da."

Declan narrowed his pale gray eyes. "You and I need to have a talk later."

"Uh huh. How about next week?"

"How about *now*?"

"No way, Da. You know how Dad gets when you make him wait," Sasha said, suddenly aware that the hole he was digging himself was getting deeper and deeper. He saw Declan's eyes glitter, and he stammered, "Not in bed, Da. I didn't mean in bed."

Michael clapped a hand on Declan's shoulder. "You have my sympathies. But don't kill him here. There are too many expert witnesses."

"Right," Declan agreed. Sasha swallowed hard. He could never quite be sure when Michael was kidding, and from the look on Declan's face, *he* was certainly taking him seriously.

Chris smiled as he passed Sasha. "Don't worry. I'll put flowers on your grave."

"Me, too," chimed in Faith.

"Pretty ones," Emmy added.

"Stop that," Skye cried out. "That's not funny."

"Yes, it is," Adam corrected. "But maybe you're a little too close to the situation to see the humor."

Sasha wrapped his arms around Skye and pulled her against him. "It's okay, Ange. If I'm still alive later, we'll have a helluva party."

"And if you're not?"

Declan snapped, "Then he won't be there."

Sasha and Skye jumped apart at the sound of Declan's voice, a bleak reminder that the threat had real potential. The kids scattered, leaving the three adults alone.

"You work hard to keep up that tough guy image, don't you?" Davenport quipped.

"What makes you think I *work* at it at all?" Declan answered quietly.

"Shit, you're just like Michael. Never know if you're death on wheels…or a fucking pussycat."

Michael smiled faintly. "I'm rather partial to cats myself."

Declan's lips curved upwards. "But not *always*."

"Yes," Michael said tersely, but the smile remained a glimmer in his green eyes.

They managed to leave the holding area without encountering the same police officer again. However, they were just approaching the front door when suddenly, two familiar figures burst into the police station.

"Kita!" Michael exclaimed.

"Cassidy!" Davenport cried out.

"What are you doing here?" they asked in unison.

"Taking care of business," Nikita drawled. She was a vision all in black, her pale hair crowning her head, making her look like an avenging angel.

"The situation's under control, Kita," Michael said, earning a dirty look from his wife.

"Then why are you all *still* here? What's taking so long?"

Derry leaned on Nikita's shoulder, and if it weren't for the incongruities of their physical appearance, they would have looked like sisters. "Aye, seems to me you boys are pretty inefficient. Maybe you could use some help."

It looked like Sasha wasn't the only one who was going to be on the receiving end of a heart-to-heart later.

"I'm not letting you go, Nick." Adam was adamant. Jazz could say whatever he wanted, but it was obvious that he still wasn't feeling well.

"I'm just going to the bathroom, Adam," Jazz said with a groan. But he was still too pale for Adam's liking.

"You need to lie down."

"I need to *pee*," Jazz countered.

Suddenly they both burst out laughing. Adam pulled Jazz into his arms and kissed him. "You know how I worry."

"About me peeing? I've been taking care of that myself for years." Jazz smiled, but it was a weak smile, as if his heart wasn't in it.

"What's wrong, baby? You've been so quiet ever since we got back to the hotel. Talk to me, Nick."

"Can I use the bathroom first?"

"Please," Adam agreed. Jazz moved away from his lover cautiously, and Adam noticed that he was unsteady on his feet. "Nick, wait."

"Sorry. Gotta go. I swear." Jazz managed to dart into the bathroom, leaving Adam staring at the other side of the door. For long moments, Adam heard nothing but water running. Then he heard a muffled curse and the crash of something breakable on the tile floor.

Banging on the door, Adam shouted, "Let me in, Nicky. I mean it."

The door seemed to unlock itself, but Jazz didn't come out. Adam pushed the door open and stared at the picture that Jazz made. The younger man was sitting on the edge of the bathtub. Visibly shaking.

"Oh, baby," Adam whispered. Without thinking, Adam knelt on the floor in front of his lover and grasped his hands. Cold. They were so cold. "Nick…are you okay?"

Jazz shook his head back and forth and struggled to free a hand to wipe at his runny nose. But Adam refused to release him. "I br-broke a gl-glass."

Jazz pointed in the direction of the sink, and Adam turned away briefly to note that there was indeed broken glass under the sink. "What happened? Are you hurt?"

"No…I just wanted…a gl-glass of w-water."

"Nicky, are you still upset about what happened? At the jail and all?"

Jazz sighed heavily. "They didn't give back my ring."

'They promised to send it over as soon as they found it, baby."

"And you believe them? God, Adam, I haven't taken it off since you g-gave it to me." Jazz closed his eyes and leaned forward, his long golden brown hair falling in his face. Adam reached up and stroked his damp cheek. "You're more upset about the ring than being arrested, aren't you?"

Jazz nodded silently, a sniffle betraying just how badly he felt.

"Nicky, I'll get you another ring if they don't find yours."

"I don't want another ring. I want that one," Jazz whispered, his voice trailing away at the end, as if he'd run out of energy…or lost all hope.

Adam tightened his grip on Jazz' hands. "Come to bed with me, Nick. I'll hold you till you fall asleep."

"I don't want-"

"Please? You're falling over. You need to rest. You need to eat."

"I can't." Jazz' bright green eyes dulled with remembered pain, and Adam ached for him. The only thing that was going to bring a smile to Jazz' face again was that ring. Dammit, Adam thought, he hated feeling like this, like there was nothing he could do.

All at once there was a noise behind them, a startled shout. "Oops, sorry. I didn't realize there was anyone in here," exclaimed Nikita.

Adam looked up bleakly at his stepmother. "It's okay. I was just trying to convince Nick to go to bed."

"I'm not a kid, Adam," Jazz snapped. "You don't have to talk around me like I'm not here."

Adam turned his head sharply, wondering what he'd done to deserve that. But the moment he did, he saw Jazz' eyes blur with fresh tears. "I'm sorry," he murmured, tugging his hands free from Adam's grasp.

"Nick…"

"Is there anything I can do?" Nikita asked quietly.

"Not unless you've got that fucking ring in your pocket," Adam muttered, swiping at his own eyes. If Jazz was already heartbroken, Adam was well on his way there. They were so in synch with each other, it was difficult for one to feel something without the other picking up on it as well.

"Well…" Nikita smiled slowly. Adam's attention was immediately riveted to what she was holding in the palm of her hand. "Will this do?"

Jazz stood up so suddenly that Adam had to catch him before he fell. Adam wrapped one arm around Jazz' waist and held his other arm outstretched, silently entreating Nikita to give him the ring.

Nikita dropped the ring into Adam's hand with a kind smile. Adam's eyes shone with genuine gratitude. "Thanks."

"You're welcome. Oh, and boys?"

Adam closed his hand protectively around the ring. "Yes?"

"There's gotta be a better place to hang out than the *bathroom*," she said with a grin.

"Umm…can I ask you something?"

"Sure, Adam."

"How many of 'em did you have to *kill* to get this thing back?"

Michael could hear his wife laughing all the way in the living room.

Adam slid his ring off Jazz' finger and replaced it with the one he had originally given his lover. Jazz couldn't stop looking at his finger. The rings were virtually identical, but Jazz could tell the difference. His finger felt warmer. Adam might laugh to think that something like that could have such a physical effect on him, but Jazz knew it was true.

"Happy now?"

"Yeah," Jazz whispered. "Is there any pizza left?"

"Your appetite's back?"

Jazz nodded. Right before he wound his arms around Adam's neck and tangled his hands in Adam's hair. "And not just for *food*."

They kissed, tenderly at first, then more and more urgently. When Adam had his tongue in Jazz' mouth, Jazz found it hard to think, but he tried valiantly. "Mmm…we should lie down."

"*Now* you want to sleep?"

"Who said anything about *sleeping*?"

Adam rubbed his cheek affectionately against the side of Jazz' face. "You make it so easy to love you."

Jazz held up his hand behind Adam's head and admired his recently returned ring. Then with the joyful abandon that only someone so deeply in love could feel, he kissed Adam, murmuring, "I love you, too," against his mouth.

They fell onto the bed as one, their bodies entwined as intimately as possible, their ringed hands clasped together. Their terrible ordeal was over, if not completely forgotten, and there was little likelihood of them resurfacing until the following morning.

Michael glanced at the closed bedroom door and said softly, "I wanted to talk to Adam."

Nikita chuckled and tapped the Do Not Disturb sign around the handle of the door. "You should be proud of your son. He planned ahead."

"Hmm…what *did* you and Derry have to do to get that ring back?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Nikita said, her eyes lighting up as they slowly studied her husband's face.

"I have ways of making you talk," Michael teased.

"So I've heard. Is there a spare bedroom to be had?"

"Well…this *is* a hotel."

"No offense, Mom, but you guys aren't staying, are you?" Faith had to be the one to ask. No one else would have dared. But the rest of the kids waited with bated breath for Nikita's answer.

Nikita regarded her oldest daughter thoughtfully. "Are you saying we're, um, cramping your style, sweetie?"

"Ummm…well, now that you mention it…ow!" Faith turned her head sharply and glared at Connor. In his blatant attempt to keep Faith from getting into trouble one…more…time…her lover had pinched her arm a bit too enthusiastically.  "What was that for?"

"Just trying to save you from yourself." As usual, he finished silently.

"I do not need saving, thank you very much," Faith declared haughtily.

"Fine," Connor said, releasing her arm.

Faith inclined her head in a very genteel, completely ladylike manner, only to ruin her artful pose moments later by saying, "You guys are totally killing the party mood here, y'know."

Nikita wisely refrained from commenting, but her gaze grew even more intensely blue, if that were possible, a fact that did not go unnoticed by Chris. "Not that you're not welcome to stay, Mom," Chris quickly added, praying that it wasn't too little, too late.

She winked at Chris, and for a second, he was convinced that he'd imagined it. Then he smiled slowly, realizing that his mother was not at all as oblivious as Faith thought. "I hope you enjoy what's left of the weekend."

After Nikita had left, Faith breathed a sigh of relief, only to be brought up short by Connor and Chris. "Hey, no fair, you're double-teaming me."

"Sometimes I can't believe I'm related to you," Chris said, giving his twin a stern look that reminded her painfully of their father.

"Thanks a lot."

Emmy pulled her hair back into her customary ponytail and fastened the thick curls with a leather thong. "So…is everyone rested up? Anyone feel like going out?"

Sasha laughed. "I thought the whole idea was to stay in, Em."

"And miss seeing Paris? But it's so beautiful out there."

Chris smiled, his light blue eyes caressing her face. "It's beautiful in here."

"Are you ever coming out?" Sasha whispered through the bedroom door to Adam and Jazz.

He couldn't really blame them for wanting to be together, not after what happened, but he didn't want to exclude them from the rest of the weekend. At the risk of violating their privacy, he eavesdropped, pressing his ear to the door, listening for signs that they had actually made it out of bed for a change.

Adam smiled in the direction of the door as he felt his lover's arms wrap themselves around his middle. "You're not thinking about leaving this bed, are you?" Jazz asked him softly.

"I was…"

Jazz kissed a spot between Adam's shoulders and Adam sighed contentedly. "You don't really want to go out, do you?"

Adam groaned and turned around to face the younger man. "I wanted to show you Paris," he whispered.

Jazz buried his face against Adam's chest. "I think I've seen enough to last me a while."

"You haven't seen anything," Adam protested.

Jazz restlessly stroked his hands up and down Adam's back, the movement causing the silver chain around his neck to glitter, its links growing taut, then slack. Adam tugged on the inexpensive ring at its center and kissed it. "As much as you love this…I want to replace it-"

"No," Jazz said, automatically shaking his head.

"-with something better, Nick."

Jazz rubbed his cheek against Adam's. "You can't replace something like this. That's like me…wanting to replace…you."

Adam lowered his head to nuzzle Jazz' neck. "Pretty near impossible, huh?"

Jazz chuckled as Adam found a ticklish spot on the side of his throat. "Try totally."

"Let's go out anyway. I want to walk down the street with my arms around you. Just like any other couple."

"After what happened?" Jazz questioned, a slight tremor running through his lean yet muscular frame.

"Especially after what happened. You need this. We need this."

Jazz stared intently into his lover's eyes for several moments, and Adam held his breath, truly uncertain what Jazz would decide. Suddenly Jazz broke into a captivating grin. "Sasha? You still there?"

"Yeah?"

"We'll be there in a minute."

Adam wrapped his arms around his mate and hugged him as tightly as he could. "I love you."

"I love you, too," Jazz breathed into his ear.

"Guess we better get dressed."

Jazz nodded. All at once Adam kissed him. "That's for being so brave today."

"As long as I have you…I can do anything."

"Anything?"

Jazz' eyes sparkled, a bright translucent green, and Adam momentarily forgot what his question had been. "It's thinking like that…that kept us in bed."

"Mmmhmm…"

"Maybe we could go dancing."

"Isn't that what we're doing?"