Welcome Home

[mister_bloom]

[Takes place two days after this, co-written by the muns]

Bag in hand, Joaquin manages a small smile for Orlando before he steps off the train. He hasn't taken three steps before Bruce is there, sliding out of the shadows with a silence that's unnatural in such a big man.

"Kitten..." Bruce trails off, eyes going wide when he catches sight of Orlando. "What...?"

"It's alright, Mac," Joaquin murmurs, reaching back to pull Orlando up level with them. "The feud's over, he's coming home, and he knows everything."

"I see." Pursing his lips, Bruce rakes a considering gaze over Orlando. Kid's grown up. "Welcome home, Dapper," he says, sticking out his hand.

"Thanks, Mac," Orlando replies, returning the handshake and the look. He can't look around the station yet. "It's, uh, good to be back."

"I almost believe you mean that," Bruce says, laughing quietly. He half expects to see Josh step off the train and can't prevent the wave of sadness that hits when it doesn't happen.

Gentle fingers brush the back of Orlando's hand, then Joaquin is all business. "You got anything yet?"



"Boy, do I ever," Bruce says. He glances around, nods to Moe, then jerks his thumb over his shoulder. "In the car. No need for all these ears to hear."

"Good idea."

Orlando keeps a steadying hand on Joaquin's back as Bruce and Moe lead them through Grand Central and out to Bruce's car. Already the air smells different, more vital, more alive, and Orlando's blood sings in awareness. His city, man. No matter how much time has past, no matter how lost he is without Josh here, it's still his city.

They all pile in the car, Joaquin and Orlando on one side, Moe and Bruce on the other. One of Orlando's hands finds Joaquin's and squeezes. He ignores Bruce's speculative glance - there will be time for all of that later. "Tell us what you've got."

"Simple enough." Bruce shrugs, then fixes his gaze on Joaquin. "She's back in town. Holed up in a little place on the island."

"The kid?" Practically holding his breath, Joaquin leans forward, hand tight on Orlando's.

"Little boy. Three...maybe four. Cute kid..." He hesitates, eyes flicking from Joaquin to Orlando and back again.

"Keep going," Orlando says, when Joaquin's hand spasms in his. Even though everyone in the car's already got a damn good idea about the next words outta Bruce's mouth.

"If I was a betting man -- which I'm not," he says, rolling his eyes when Moe snorts, "that kid is yours, Kitten. Looks too much like River did."

"Fuck," Moe mutters, watching as Joaquin goes pale.

"You've seen him?" Joaquin's voice is wooden, forced out through frozen lips.

Bruce nods. "And, uh, there might be a problem with you seeing him."

"What'd'you mean?" Orlando asks, ignoring the visceral kick of Bruce's words for the moment. Time to deal with the implications later - right now, it's time to get all of the information they can.

Bruce sighs, looks at Joaquin directly. "I found the house a few hours after you called. Been watching it in shifts ever since. That kid doesn't step outside that door without a guy with him. Ever."

"She get married or something?" Orlando asks. It wouldn't be unheard of for a man to take on the raising of another man's child. It'd make things more complicated, but Orlando has no doubts something could be arranged.

"Not like that." Bruce shakes his head and studies the passing scenery for a moment. Then he looks back to the two of them, eyes dropping to their still joined hands. "The guy...and there's a couple of 'em that rotate out...stays outside. Looks like a damn bodyguard to me."

"Bodyguard? What the hell...why's she need a bodyguard?" Joaquin's eyes blaze as his hand tightens almost painfully on Orlando's. Moe just makes a quiet noise, remembering the very public break-up with Rita.

"Dunno, but the guys weren't around when I first found her place," Bruce says. He purses his lips again, looks down, then scratches his nose. "If I didn't know better, I'd say I've seen at least one of 'em talking to one of your boys."

"That doesn't make any sense." Neither does the idea of some ex of Joaquin's having bodyguards, but Orlando ignores that for the moment. "Why would any of 'Quin's men have occasion to chat with this girl? And if they did, why not just come to him?"

"Why?" Bruce looks at Orlando, considering the shadows in dark eyes. "Leverage, boy. If that is Kitten's son, can you think of a better hold over him?"

"You're talking blackmail," Moe says in a flat voice.

"See, I knew you wasn't as stupid as you pretend." Ignoring Moe's rude noise, Bruce grins and turns his attention back to Orlando. "It's simple. If you were looking to advance somehow, what's the first thing you do?"

"Find a weakness," Moe says, words dropping like stones into the sudden silence.

"And exploit it."

"Alright, hold up, you're assuming that one of 'Quin's men somehow knew that this Rita chick got knocked up and that it was his," Orlando replies, head spinning with the possibilities. None of this makes a damn bit of sense. "And that Rita accepted this protection and is in on this scheme. She that kinda girl, 'Quin?"

"She wasn't." Eyes of green ice stare a hole through Bruce, who just sits there calmly. With a flicker of warmth, those eyes shift to Orlando. "That could've changed."

"It could," Bruce admits, still calm, directing his words to Orlando. "Kitten was a different person then. And if she came to him when she found out, but ran into one of his boys instead, and this fella saw an opportunity..."

"Who the hell would do that?" Moe explodes, hands in fists on his thighs.

Bruce turns his head, lizard-like gaze pinning Moe in place. "Who's got the most to gain?"

"Absolutely not," Orlando flatly states. "I won't believe that Ridley - fucking Ridley, man - had anything to do with any of this. I don't care that I haven't been here the past five years, I've known him since I was seven. He's as much family as Moe or Lou. He's one of us."

"I never said it was him."

"'Lando..." Joaquin squeezes Orlando's hand, takes a deep breath. He feels as if the world has dropped from beneath his feet. "Mac, take me to them."

"Not now," Bruce says, shaking his head. "They went out for the day. Jimmy's on 'em, so don't fret."

"Then take me to Ridley. Now." Joaquin's voice is cold, steel covered in ice.

"Ah...I'd love to," Bruce says, showing the first real reluctance of the trip. "Nobody's quite sure where he is right now. Least not anybody I know."

Orlando frowns, giving Bruce a confused look. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Means he apparently took off yesterday morning. I've been told it's 'business', but ain't no one heard from him except maybe Lucky." Joaquin opens his mouth, but Bruce holds up a hand. "And Lucky's been in a bit of a bad mood since you called me and I talked to him."

"Alright, so we go to Lucky's," Orlando says. "Get all this straightened out, then start figuring out a way to deal with Rita." Then he gives Bruce another considering look. "I don't suppose you know the kid's name."

"Heard Rita yelling at him yesterday afternoon," Bruce says, voice dropping. He watches Joaquin closely. "She called him Tony."

Joaquin jerks as if he's been hit. Face pale except for two spots of bright color high on his cheeks, he stares at Bruce. "Tony?"

Bruce just nods as Moe starts to swear.

"Tony?" Orlando leans weakly back against the cushions. Ridley's adored younger brother, who'd died of influenza when they'd all been kids, had been named Tony. The coincidence is a little much. "'Quin, you maybe think this kid might be Ridley's and he was just afraid to tell you he slept with your girl?" Makes as much sense as anything else right now.

"Ridley's..." Joaquin shakes his head, frowning. The situation is getting more confusing with every word out of Bruce's mouth. "Doesn't explain why the kid looks so much like River."

"Ridley does favor River," Orlando shrugs. "'Member growing up, everyone used to think you and I were blood-related and that Ridley was River's brother. Until he got older, anyway."

"Mama said he was the spitting image of River at that age," Joaquin says, a wave of dizziness washing over him at the idea. "It's just...I don't think it's possible." He looks up as the car comes to a stop.

"We're here," Bruce says, smiling as Orlando frowns at the back door of the building.

"Lucky moved uptown?" he asks, glancing around as he steps out of the car.

"Been a long time," Joaquin murmurs, smiling a little as his hand settles in the small of Orlando's back. "Business is good."

"Better than good," Moe says, grinning like a fool as he looks around and stretches. "Wait'll you find out what you're stepping into."

"Why does that sound so ominous?" Orlando asks, and eyes the two beefy bodyguards by the door with interest. He doesn't know these men. But then, five years is a long time.

"It's not nearly as ominous as he's making out," Joaquin laughs. He's still shaky, but it's easing a little. "Matt, Ben."

"Kitten," one of the big guys rumbles, nodding as he looks over the small group before opening the door.

"Who're they?" Orlando murmurs in Joaquin's ear, giving the two men another glance. They both look like glaciers - and make Lawrence look normal.

"Who?" Looking confused, Joaquin turns. Then he grins. Ah, right. "Matt and Ben. They come as a set. Lucky hired 'em on about four years ago, and he keeps threatening to set 'em on me one of these days."

"A set?" Orlando does a double take as the door closes behind them, then narrows his eyes at Joaquin. "You don't mean what I think you mean. Do you?"

"Oh, they're straight as arrows," Joaquin murmurs, fighting an almost overwhelming urge to laugh. "Except for each other."

"Oh, well, that's...wait, what?" Orlando stops, and blinks at Joaquin, certain he looks like an owl. Moe and Bruce both turn to give them questioning looks.

"Just filling him in on those two," Joaquin says, jerking his thumb back towards the door.

"On...oh." Moe smirks and rolls his eyes. "Damnedest thing you ever saw."

"I wouldn't mention it to 'em," Bruce says, and winks.

"No, I rather think I like my body just how it's arranged," Orlando replies with a laugh. They all have to be messing with him. There's just no way...

"It's true, baby," Joaquin murmurs, brushing Orlando's hand with his as Moe leads them up the stairs.

"That's a helluva thing," Orlando replies, giving Joaquin's fingers a brief squeeze. Of all the things...

"You should see 'em in action. You'd never guess." Drawing to a halt behind Bruce, Joaquin straightens his tie as Bruce knocks on the door and waits.

Orlando takes a deep breath, and runs a hand through his curls. He can't believe he's nervous about this. Then again, the last time he'd seen Lucky, it had been when he'd dropped by the house to tell him that he was no longer welcome in New York, and that Josh was free to stay or leave. He can still recall his fight that night with Josh with vivid clarity.

"Love you," Joaquin whispers in Orlando's ear. He gives limp fingers a gentle squeeze, smiles, then steps into the office.

"After you," Bruce says, softly, motioning for Orlando to enter.

"Thanks," Orlando replies weakly, and steps inside the richly furnished office. Same old mahogany desk, same worn sofa in one corner, same silk screens in another. Same old leather chair behind the desk, even, but Orlando only has eyes for the man currently rising to his feet, arms stretched out in welcome. "Hey, Lucky," he says, throat raw, as the man he's always thought of as a surrogate father comes towards him.

"'Bout time you came home, son," Lucky murmurs, wrapping Orlando in a tight hug.

Joaquin watches with pride. He feels, for the first time, like his life is exactly like it's supposed to be.

Orlando pulls back, still clasping Lucky's arms, with a smile. "Last I remember, you were kicking me out."

"Only to give you and this one," he says, waving a hand in Joaquin's direction, "a chance to cool off."

"Guess you forgot how stubborn we both are."

"Speak for yourself," Joaquin says, dropping into a chair and raising an eyebrow when Lucky looks at him. "What? Everyone knows I'm mild as a kitten."

"Still lying, Joaquin?" Lucky says, shaking his head sadly. "Woulda thought a couple of months in the 'burbs would have learned you a few things."

"Chicago's a fine, thriving metropolis, thank you," Orlando replies, quick to defend his adopted city.

"It's a 'burb," Lucky says, with an air of superiority that has Joaquin hiding a grin behind his hand. "Sit, sit, Orlando, relax. Something to drink?"

"I..." Joaquin shuts up fast when Lucky stabs a finger at him.

"I didn't ask if you wanted anything, ya damn booze hound."

"He's quit," Orlando says, giving Joaquin a small smile.

"He's what?"

"I was going to ask for iced tea," Joaquin says. He ignores the amazed looks he receives from Lucky and Bruce.

"Make that two," Orlando tells a still dumb-founded Lucky.

Bruce eyes Joaquin, then Orlando. "Don't tell me you quit, too. That's just damn unnatural."

"You...quit?" Lucky shakes his head, then stares at Joaquin again.

"I, ah, had an episode," Joaquin admits, quietly, rubbing the back of his neck and looking at his feet where they're stretched out in front of him.

"It's nothing that needs going into," Orlando states, and drops into the chair beside Joaquin. "Suffice to say, he's got my full support in this, so I don't drink around him. Anyone got a problem with that?"

"Damn, it's like you never left," Lucky chuckles, pressing a glass into Orlando's hand. "Still his biggest defender."

"Always," Orlando replies quietly in a steely voice.

"So," Joaquin says, flashing Orlando a small smile as he accepts the glass that Lucky hands him. "Mac tells me he found Rita."

Moe shakes his head, settling into a chair in the corner so he can keep an eye on the door. Leave it to Kitten to jump right in without giving anyone a chance to get caught up.

"Told me as well, and don't think you and I aren't going to have a little talk about me having to find out about you coming back from him, either," Lucky states, and sits back in his recliner. "You mind telling me what the hell is going on?"

It's not a request, and everyone in the room knows it.

"If I knew, there wouldn't be a problem," Joaquin snaps. He ignores the threat of the talk, almost sure he can avoid it if he plays his cards right. "All I know is that my mother called me, hysterical, because she'd seen a little boy at the market that looked exactly like River. The woman with him matched Rita's description."

"So, we put Mac on the job, and got here as soon as we could," Orlando continues, squeezing Joaquin's hand again in reassurance. "Mac, you wanna tell Lucky what you told us in the car?"

"Which part?" Bruce grimaces and rubs the back of his neck. He tosses back his drink and moves to pour another before facing Lucky. "It's Rita, alright. And that kid is Kitten's. I'd bet my life on it, Lucky."

"Tell him the rest," Joaquin says, voice low, steely, and his eyes never waver from Lucky's.

Another grimace, directed at Joaquin. "Kid's got a guy who...follows him, for lack of a better word. Like a bodyguard. Couple of 'em, actually, that trade off in shifts. And, uh, I'm pretty sure I've seen one of 'em before."

"One of mine?" At Bruce's slow, sure nod, Lucky's eyes narrow to slits. "Who?"

"We're not sure yet," Orlando says quietly. "But, uh, it'd help a lot if you could tell us where Ridley is."

"Ridley..." Lucky looks stunned, then his eyes narrow again. "You think...?"

"Just tell us where the fuck he is, Charles," Joaquin says, eyes blazing as he comes half out of his chair before Orlando's hand on his arms stops him.

"Yeah, well, that doesn't mean much," Orlando replies, just as Lucky levels Joaquin with a calm, ice-cold stare.

"Joaquin, I tolerate a lot from you out of love, but if you disrespect me in this manner again, it won't be pleasant." Each word is razor-sharp. "Am I making myself clear?"

Joaquin's jaw tightens. For a few seconds, he continues to glare at Lucky, nostrils flaring. Then he lifts his chin, knowing just how far he can push it. "Yes, sir," he says, each word grudging, but his tone is just shy of insolent.

"Keep pushing." Lucky points a finger, keeps his gaze on Joaquin. Then, after he's satisfied he's made his point, he turns back to Bruce. "So you think this man you saw around Rita's kid is one of Ridley's?"

"Can't say as to that, but I know I've seen 'em talking. Usually alone, out in public. And don't ask how I know that, 'cause you know I ain't gonna tell you, Lucky." Bruce sticks out his chin and gives Lucky a defiant look. "You told me to keep an eye on the organization and that's what I do."

"Charles..." Joaquin's jaw tightens again, and he fights to gentle his voice, to take the ice from it. "If Ridley knows this guy, then he knows how to reach him, maybe who else he's working for."

For the first time since settling into his chair, Moe shifts. "According to Mac," he says, words dropping into a sudden silence as four heads turn in his direction, "the kid's name is Tony."

"It's a common name," Orlando stresses, glaring at Moe.

"You don't think..."

"We don't know what to think, Lucky," Orlando interrupts, resisting the urge to rub the tension between his brows. "But Ridley might be able to give us a few answers."

"Haven't seen him in a couple of days," Lucky shrugs. "Sent in his reports with one of his boys, right on time, just as always, but I haven't seen him."

"You know where he might be?"

"Well, if he's taking a day or two, anyone tried Nelly's?" Lucky takes a long sip from his drink. "No secret he's got a girl there."

"First place I looked," Bruce says. "Girl's there, he ain't."

"Fuck." Joaquin leans forward, elbows on his knees, head in his hands. His voice is muffled, thick, when he speaks again. "Things've been...normal while I was gone, yeah?"

"Yeah, of course, I'd have told you if anything had happened." Lucky looks insulted that Joaquin had even asked.

"I don't know that, now do I?" Lifting his head, Joaquin offers Lucky a crooked smile. "You, uh...I don't suppose you ever heard of Rita looking for me, did you? After, y'know."

"Now you know I'd've told you," Lucky replies softly, his own lips quirking into a grin. "Hell, I'd have offered to mend her broken heart."

Sounds like the Lucky Orlando's always known. "So I guess all we can do now is look for Ridley, and maybe make some discreet inquiries into these men hanging around Rita's place."

Joaquin sits up, straightens his jacket. He's all business now. "Mac, I want a full report. Where she's been, who she's talked to, everything."

"Done."

"Then..." His face set, emotionless, Joaquin looks from Lucky to Bruce. "Then I want you to find Ridley. Don't approach..."

"I know how to handle it," Bruce says, a touch irritated that Joaquin would think any different. Then he takes a close look at Joaquin's eyes and shrugs off the irritation. "I'll take Jimmy with me, send him back when I know something."

"And, uh, Lucky, when Ridley's report comes in, see if you can find out who's sending the kids over," Orlando adds.

"Good idea." Lucky stands, and walks over to clasp Joaquin on the shoulder. "We'll get to the bottom of this."

Looking up, Joaquin knows he must seem pathetically grateful for the light touch. "He'd've told me, yeah?" He searches Lucky's eyes, but for what he's not sure. "If Tony's my son and Ridley knew...he'd have come to me, wouldn't he?"

"This is Ridley," Lucky quietly replies. "Only one more loyal to you is that one sitting next to you. If - and we don't know yet - but if he did know something, or thought he did, you know he'd have come to you. Or to me, if he didn't think he could come to you."

"I know. I know," Joaquin says, raking a hand through his hair. "But...fuck. Anyone who knows me knows that family is everything. Why...?"

"Kitten, gonna drive yourself nuts trying to figure out why," Bruce says, voice quiet. "We'll find out why."

"I know, I just..."

"Listen to Mac," Lucky breaks in, squeezing Joaquin's shoulder again before moving back to his chair. "Nothing you can do until you talk to Ridley."

"Meantime, we should get you home to Mama Phoenix," Orlando says. "She'll be waiting to see you." He tries to ignore the clench in his gut at seeing her himself. Have to be strong for 'Quin, man.

"Gonna be more excited to see you," Joaquin murmurs. He manages a weak smile for Orlando and reaches over to take his hand. "Thank you."

"Why're you thanking me?" Orlando asks, rubbing his thumb across Joaquin's knuckles. "I haven't done anything."

"You're here." Giving a gentle tug, Joaquin pulls Orlando close so he can hug him, not caring who's watching. "Love you, baby," he whispers, burying his face in dark curls for a brief moment.

"Always be here," Orlando murmurs back, returning the hug, taking a deep breath to center himself. Helps that Joaquin's holding onto him, touching him.

"Get home to your family," Lucky says, quietly, when they separate. He can't say he's entirely surprised at the way things seem to be playing out. "If we find out anything, I'll let you know. And," he continues, pinning Joaquin with a steady gaze, "you and I'll talk later."

"Yeah, alright," Joaquin says, ducking his head as he stands and motions for Moe. "Later."

Orlando shakes Bruce's hand, then Lucky's. "Keep us posted."

"Will do. Welcome home, Dapper."

"Not yet," Orlando replies with a quick smile. "But soon." He turns to Joaquin and Moe. "Ready?"

"No," Joaquin replies, with a faint laugh. He's not at all looking forward to facing his mother without any answers. But he tugs on his jacket, then shakes Lucky's hand.

"Get outta here," Lucky says, patting his shoulder. "It's good to have you back, Kitten, but take a few days to relax. You, too, Orlando."

"We'll do our best," Orlando smiles. "I'm sure Summer and Mama Phoenix'll have us running around, tending to wedding things."

"Wedding?" Lucky turns a raised eyebrow to Joaquin. "What wedding?"

"I, uh...no one told you?" Joaquin looks around, gaze landing on Moe who just shrugs. "Fuck. Um...well, see, I thought he'd've come by and told you. Summer's getting married. To George."

"Clooney?" Lucky does a classic double-take when Joaquin and Orlando and Moe all nod. "To baby Summer?"

"Not a baby anymore," Orlando laughs. "Trust me, I had a hard time coping with it myself."

"Huh." Lucky shakes his head. "Always thought she'd marry you one day."

"That was a long time ago. We were kids."

Joaquin just smiles. "Nah, she never broke 'Lando's nose. Couldn't've been true love."

"She..."

"Busted it good and proper," Moe says, grinning from ear to ear. "Ain't never seen such a fuss as what he raised when Lou set it for him."

"I see." Lucky nods. "Well, when you see him, send him to the office."

Orlando hides his snicker behind his hand. He already knows that Lucky'll grill George like a father.

Joaquin does his best to not laugh. Poor George. It's his own fault, though. Bastard should've come to Lucky soon as he got back in town. "We'll be going now," he says, motioning for Moe and Orlando to head out the door. "Have a good afternoon, Lucky."

"Mmmm." Lucky waves them out the door, and Orlando barely waits for it to shut behind them before he's grinning like a loon.

"Glad I'm not George," Moe says, shaking his head as he starts down the stairs.

"Mmhmm..." Joaquin sneaks a peek at Orlando, then pokes him. "Don't start, baby."

"Sorry," Orlando chuckles, dancing out of Joaquin's reach. "He hasn't changed a bit, has he?"

"Lucky? Nah." Joaquin grins, slinging an arm around Orlando's neck. "He ain't ever gonna change. Thank God."

"And you still push him every chance you get," Orlando replies, blinking when Moe opens the outside door and sunlight hits his eyes. He gives Matt and Ben, both still imposing and still on opposite sides of the door, a curious glance. There's no way 'Quin means it.

"He expects it," Joaquin replies, with a shrug. He nods to the two big men, hiding a smile when he catches sight of Orlando's expression.

"Hi there," Orlando says, lifting a hand in greeting.

"Matt, Ben, mind your manners," Joaquin says, still struggling to keep from laughing. "This here is my baby brother, Orlando. 'Lando, this is Ben, and the hairless one with the pretty eyes is Matt."

"Orlando," Matt says, inclining his head. His expression never really changes, other than his eyes shifting briefly to Joaquin.

"Pleasure," Ben says, and takes Orlando's hand for a brief, firm shake, before he steps right back into position.

"Guess I'll be seeing you around," Orlando replies, feeling very much like he's missed something.

"They take their jobs very seriously," Joaquin murmurs, biting his lip and looking everywhere but at Orlando.

Matt gives Joaquin another look. "Some of us have to."

"Oh, so he does know you," Orlando replies, and thinks, maybe, he might've seen Ben's lips twitch in a smile.

"You the little brother he swore to kill?" Matt asks, pinning Orlando with that direct, penetrating gaze.

A bit like looking into a deep well, but Orlando's no stranger to men like this. "I am," he replies in a calm voice. "As you can see, we worked through all that. How'd Lucky find you again?"

Turning his strangled laugh into a cough, Joaquin looks away. He can see Moe, from the corner of his eye, grinning like a loon, and Joaquin doesn't dare look at him.

"He didn't," Ben says, face impassive as he studies Orlando. "We found him."

"Well, I'm glad you did," Orlando replies with a cheery smile as he pulls out a clove and lights it. "Being lost is a terrible thing."

"So we hear," Matt replies, and Orlando thinks maybe he can detect just a bit of humor in it.

"And any time you want to share a bottle and give me the real scoop on what my brother's been up to the past five years, the offer's open."

"Be a shorter list if we tell you what he hasn't been up to," Matt says, giving Joaquin a bland look before reaching out to pound him on the back. "You need the doc, Kitten? Nasty sounding cough there."

"No, no," Joaquin says, voice strangled as he waves off the 'help'. "I'm good."

"I should be getting him home to Mama Phoenix, anyway," Orlando says, and sticks out a hand again, cigarette dangling from his lips. "It was a real pleasure meeting you. Look forward to working with you."

Matt's hand envelopes Orlando's, following immediately by Ben's. "Our pleasure," Matt says, as Ben straightens.

"You say that now," Joaquin says, winking at them both as Moe returns to say the car has arrived.

Ben just shakes his head. "Have a nice night, Kitten."

"You know, it's a wonder you're still breathing," Orlando comments, once he and Joaquin are settled into car seat.

"Why's that?" Joaquin's forehead wrinkles in confusion, and he twists to look out the window at Matt and Ben as the car pulls away from the curb.

"Have you looked at the two of them, love?"

"Them?" Joaquin blinks, then grins. "They're as loyal as you are, baby. And I don't give them nearly the shit I give Moe and George."

"Good thing," Orlando laughs. "Because I get the feeling they don't much care who you work for, if you step out of line, that's it."

"You saw 'em. You think I'm dumb enough to give them a reason to rough me up?" Joaquin looks indignant at the idea.

"True." Orlando scoots closer, drops his voice, even though he doesn't know why. "Are they really...you know?"

"Honest to God," Joaquin says, making the sign of the Cross. Then he grins. "But seriously only for each other, though. Around women, they're lethal."

"I can imagine," Orlando nods. "And don't worry, I'm not looking to be with either of them. I've got my hands full with you."

"Mmm..." Joaquin flashes Orlando a wicked smile and slides across the seat. "I'd like you to have your hands full of me..."

"Later tonight," Orlando promises, giving Joaquin's knee a light squeeze. "Can you imagine, seeing your mom after five long years, all disheveled from your kisses?"

Joaquin laughs. "Good point. She'd forgive you and whallop me."

"I don't want to take any chances. Promise, though," Orlando murmurs, letting his hand drift higher on Joaquin's leg, "once you get me in your bed, I won't let you out for a whole day."

"Gonna hold you to that," Joaquin murmurs, leaning in for a slow, heated kiss, one hand cupping the back of Orlando's neck so Joaquin can play with the soft hairs there.

"Love you," Orlando murmurs, when he lifts his head. His next words are barely a whisper. "Little bit nervous, love."

"Don't be," Joaquin replies, voice soft as his fingers trail across Orlando's stubbled jaw. "It's just Mama."

"Five years, baby. Lot's happened." He doesn't mention Josh, knows he doesn't need to.

"Family hasn't stopped loving you." Meeting Orlando's eyes, Joaquin smiles. "You'll see."

"Guess so," Orlando murmurs, and swallows hard when Moe turns down their street. Memories, a lifetime of them, threaten to overwhelm him.

"Right here," Joaquin murmurs, and squeezes Orlando's hand tight as the car rolls to a stop. He's barely stepped out of the car before the front door bangs open and two dark haired whirlwinds are pelting through it and down the walk.

"Guess they were expecting us," Moe laughs, holding the door open for Orlando and watching as Joaquin scoops up the two boys, his laugh mingling with theirs as first Rain, then his mother steps onto the porch.

Every bit of courage that Orlando had built up flees him as he stands, rooted, to the sidewalk. The boys, both of them laughing and talking a mile a minute, look so much like Rain that Orlando's heart clenches. He's missed so much, missed their first steps, missed beating Billy Winters himself for getting Rain in the family way, missed dancing with her at her wedding...

Her eyes shining with unshed tears, Rain makes her slow way down the walk. "It's about time you came home," is all she says when she reaches them, but her soft voice is enough to quiet the boys, and both of them stare at Orlando with wide eyes.

Orlando shrugs, barely resisting the urge to scuff his toes, as he looks into pure green eyes, the same shade as her brother's. "Yeah, well, I hear you needed a hand with the hellions," he replies, voice quavering a little with emotion. "You look beautiful, sis. Always knew motherhood would agree with you."

"You look tired," she says, softening the words with a smile. "And far too skinny." Without waiting for Orlando to say anything else, she steps in and wraps him a tight hug, letting the tears fall.

Joaquin watches, bouncing the boys in his arms, and smiles as he turns to meet his mother's gaze.

Orlando can dimly hear one of the boys asking Joaquin if that's 'Uncle 'Lando hugging Mommy', but, the second that slender, familiar arms wrap around him, it's like a dam's burst inside him and he can't help it. With Rain's soft, soothing voice in his ear, and soft, soothing hands rubbing his back, he lets the tears come, mourns the last five years away from his family, mourns the fact that Josh isn't here to see this, mourns what might have been.

"It is," Joaquin whispers as he bends to set the boys on their feet. They look at him for a moment, the younger of the two with his thumb in his mouth. Then, they turn and take the few steps to Orlando and each hugs one leg.

"Told you I was bringing him home, Mama," Joaquin says, his own vision blurring as his mother slides an arm around his waist, content to let Rain have this moment.

"I never doubted you for a second," Mrs. Phoenix replies, brushing a feather-light kiss across Joaquin's cheek. "Rain is right, though. He's far too skinny. You two ain't been eating?"

"We been eating," Joaquin says, instantly on the defensive. He returns the kiss, then goes back to watching Rain and the boys hug Orlando. "He's still grieving."

"I expect he will be for awhile yet," comes the soft reply. "Has he mentioned bringing Josh home?"

"We discussed it, yeah. It'll happen when he comes home for good." He holds up a hand, smiling a little. "Soon, Mama, my word on it."

Finally, Rain steps back, holding Orlando at arms length. The boys don't let go, clinging to his legs like limpets, and Joaquin almost laughs at the adoring looks on those two faces.

Orlando glances down, smile watery, and gives Rain a grateful, but sheepish look, before dropping to his haunches in front of the two boys. "So, who's going to introduce me to these find, upstanding gentlemen?"

"I'm Billy," the oldest says, sticking out his hand. He's solemn as Orlando shakes it, then grins. "And this," he continues, reaching over to remove a thumb still firmly in a small mouth, "is Jonas. He's just a baby."

"Well, that's what this one used to say about me," Orlando says, jerking his thumb at Joaquin before swinging Jonas up in his arms. "And you see how strong and handsome I turned out," he winks at Billy. Christ, Rain has kids...

"Not a baby," Jonas says, giving Billy such a glare that Joaquin has to look away to keep from laughing.

"He's still a baby," Joaquin tells Billy, catching him up and swinging him around before flipping Billy over his shoulder. "Where's your Uncle George, sport?"

"With Aunt Summer," Billy promptly replies between giggles.

"Is anyone shocked," Mrs. Phoenix says, and steps forward, brushing a lock of curls from Orlando's forehead. "Welcome home, son."

Orlando responds to the soft smile with one of his own, and, for a moment, he feels like he's eight years old again. "It's good to be here," he tells her, and pulls her into a one-armed hug, keeping a firm hold of Jonas with the other one.

"It's better to have you here," she whispers, brushing a kiss against his cheek as she hugs him tight. "That one," she continues, nodding towards Joaquin, "has needed you. And it looks like you've needed him, too."

"Lemme tell you something 'bout your Aunt Summer," Joaquin says to Billy, still holding him draped over one shoulder. "She's ruined a good man. Your Uncle George ain't ever gonna be the same."

"Mommy asked her if she was having a baby," Billy says, voice full of glee as it carries in the warm air. "Aunt Summer was mad!"

Orlando chokes back a laugh as he exchanges a look with Rain, then Mama Phoenix. "Well, I thought it was only fair," Rain replies, with a laugh.

Jonas snuggles closer in Orlando's arms and drops his head on Orlando's shoulder. Probably be asleep in a few minutes, which is fine with him. "She ain't pregnant," Orlando tells Rain, with his own unholy grin. "Although I hear it's not for lack of trying."

"Orlando Jonathon Bloom!" Mrs. Phoenix exclaims, thwapping him on the arm.

"I'm just telling you what I heard."

"Well, I don't want to hear it," she says, thwapping him again. "Let me go to my grave pretending at least one of my daughters makes it to the altar the way she came into this world."

"Screaming and crying? Hell of a way to do it," Joaquin says, nimbly skipping out of his mother's reach as he starts towards the house.

"You see how he's been," Mrs. Phoenix tells Orlando, shaking her head sadly.

"From where I am, he hasn't changed then," Orlando grins, and starts to follow Joaquin, still comfortably holding a now-sleeping Jonas.

"Just for that, no dinner for either of you," she says, sternly even as she struggles to keep from grinning as she follows them into the house.

"Here, give him to me," Rain says, reaching to take Jonas.

Orlando shakes his head. "I've got a lot of time to make up for," he tells her quietly.

"Well, then at least sit down," she says, guiding him towards the armchair. "He gets heavy."

Joaquin drops into the other chair after dumping Billy on the sofa. "She ain't lying. Kid weighs a ton once he really goes out."

Orlando sits down and arranges Jonas so he's on Orlando's lap, resting in the crook of his arm. Jonas doesn't even move. "Sleeps like his daddy," he observes. "Bet he drools just like his daddy, too."

"I heard that!" Rain calls out, walking down the hall to the kitchen.

"He's worse," Joaquin replies, with a wink. He takes care to keep his voice down so Rain can't hear him.

"Well, he's two," Orlando chuckles, and looks around the room. "I see nothing's changed."

"No, Mama's pretty much set in her ways," Joaquin says, with a fond smile as his mother comes back in with two glasses.

"I like things the way I like 'em," she says, giving him a level look.

"And there's nothing wrong with that," Orlando says, giving her a warm smile as he accepts his glass of iced tea. "My mother sends her love, by the way."

"Send her my best," Mrs. Phoenix smiles. "It'll be nice having her next door again."

"Did everyone know about the house except me?"

"I don't think the boys knew," Rain says, grinning at him as she comes back in, Billy in tow. "And Liberty might not."

"Not everyone knew," Joaquin says, giving Rain a dirty look. "Just the family."

"I'm family," Orlando reminds him, taking a cool sip of his tea. Just as refreshing as he'd remembered. No one made a glass of ice tea like Mama Phoenix.

"Yes, and we weren't on speaking terms," Joaquin points out, sipping his own tea.

"Because you're both stubborn," his mother mutters. She settles onto the sofa, smiling as she studies Orlando and Jonas. "They remind me a lot of you two."

"Do they?" Orlando asks, pushing a few strands of Jonas' hair away from his forehead. "Let me guess, Jonas follows Billy around like a puppy?"

"Lord, yes," Rain laughs, sitting next to her mother. Billy immediately crawls into her lap and watches Orlando out of green eyes. "Worships the ground this one walks on."

"Billy sometimes gets annoyed," Joaquin adds, with a fond grin for his oldest nephew, who just rolls his eyes and earns a cuff on the head from his mother. "But he's good with Jonas. Looks out for him, takes care of him...they're good kids."

"You two were good kids as well," his mother says, eyes moving from Joaquin to Orlando and back.

"Well, I wouldn't say good, but Josh was real good about making sure we didn't get caught," Orlando replies, and talking about him feels right, feels like maybe Josh is sitting beside him, smiling and looking at his nephews with pride.

"That he was," Rain says, with a fond, sad smile. She hugs Billy tight.

"Orlando..." Mrs. Phoenix takes a deep breath and looks down at her hands. "Will you...will you tell us about the...?"

All of the blood in Orlando's body turns to ice, and he looks helplessly at Joaquin. She can't be asking about... "Mama P, I don't..." The words feel like they're being forced out of him. "It wasn't..." He blinks, clearing the tears in his eyes, and tries again. "It was ugly. I don't..."

"Baby..." Joaquin slides from his chair to kneel beside Orlando, one hand resting on his knee. "You don't have to talk about it," he says, voice low, soothing. "It's alright."

"Ugly..." Rain's eyes widen, and she looks at her mother, then shakes her head. "No, 'Lando, no...she means the funeral, not..."

"Oh." The word is small. Not much better, but, at least it's something he can talk about. But it doesn't stop him from taking Joaquin's hand and holding on to it for dear life as he looks into compassionate eyes and relives one of the worst days of his life. "There weren't many people," he says, speaking slowly, carefully enunciating each word. "Mama and Samantha, Al and a few of his men, Lou and Lawrence, of course. And me. It was...raining. And I couldn't...I couldn't even say anything at the service." Haunted eyes find Joaquin's, beg for forgiveness. "My best friend...my brother...and I couldn't..."

"He understands, baby," Joaquin says. His free hand cups Orlando's jaw, gaze never wavering, and Joaquin shifts just enough for his mother to take Jonas. "Least you were there, yeah?"

Settling Jonas against her shoulder, Mrs. Phoenix places her hand on Orlando's shoulder. "I'm sorry, son," she murmurs, fighting back tears. "You take your time. Don't have to tell us everything right now. We're not going anywhere."

"'Lando, honey, he loved you more than anything in this world," Rain says, softly, stroking Billy's hair as he mumbles something in his sleep and turns into her. "He'd understand if you couldn't put what he was to you in words."

"Thank you." Orlando's smile is watery, but filled with love, as he looks from Rain to Mrs. Phoenix, then to Joaquin. "I want to bring him home," he whispers in a low, fierce voice. "I want to bring him home and I want a proper service with Father O'Malley there and I want his family there and I want..." He stops, unable to go on.

"We'll do it all," Joaquin says, voice just as low and fierce. He clenches Orlando's hand, not caring if Rain and his mother see how he feels, what Orlando is to him. "We'll bring him home, do things right, baby, my word on it."

"All the boys'll be there," Rain says, tears sliding down her cheeks as she smiles at Orlando. "And then we'll have a great big party after, just like an Irish wake, and you know how much he'd love that."

"Pretty girls and booze and plenty of dancing," Mrs. Phoenix continues, wiping away her own tears. Tears for Josh, taken from them too soon, and tears for her two remaining boys, hoping that now that they're back together, they can help each other heal.

"We'll do it." Orlando nods, and takes a deep breath. "When I come back for good, it's the first thing we'll do."

"Damn right it is," Joaquin says. He smiles, thumb sliding over Orlando's jaw. Then, with a mental shrug, he leans in to brush his lips over Orlando's forehead. "Together, baby."

"Mama," Rain says, suddenly, managing to stand still holding Billy. "Let's put them on your bed, alright?"

"Good idea." With a last, thoughtful look at Joaquin and Orlando, she follows Rain up the stairs, holding onto Jonas. She has a feeling the boys need a moment alone...and she knows that Rain'll be voicing the same suspicion that she now has.

The second their footsteps have faded, Orlando slides from the chair to Joaquin's lap. Just for a moment, he needs this, needs to feel Joaquin's heartbeat next to his, needs to nuzzle Joaquin's neck and breathe in his scent. "Love you, 'Quin."

"Love you, too, baby," Joaquin whispers, holding Orlando tight, burying his face in soft, dark curls. "Can you hold up through dinner? We can leave right after."

"I'll be okay." Orlando nudges at Joaquin until he can get at his lips, the kiss achingly brief. "Here for you, not me."

"For us," Joaquin says, firmly, hands framing Orlando's face after the kiss. He searches dark eyes, refusing to let go until he sees some acceptance there.

"Us," Orlando nods, smiling softly. "You know, if he is your son, our moms'll be after me until I have one of my own."

"Guess we'll just have to find you a nice Catholic girl," Joaquin murmurs, with a low laugh, "who doesn't mind sharing you."

"No nice Catholic girls," Orlando replies, stroking Joaquin's cheeks with light fingers. "Not marrying anyone. Promised myself to you."

"Guess we'll just have to find one willing to give you lots of pretty babies," Joaquin teases, turning his head to nuzzle Orlando's fingers. "And me and you'll live in sin."

"As many as I can support," Orlando smiles. "Set her up in a guest house, treat her like a queen." The kiss he gives to Joaquin is slow, full of promise. "But I'll only share my nights with you."

"I like that idea." Joaquin smiles into the next kiss, then hugs Orlando tight, letting him go only when he hears footsteps on the stairs.

Orlando stands and rakes a hand through disheveled curls, wondering if he looks as kissed as he feels. But then figures it probably doesn't matter. Family's bound to find out at some point. "Get 'em put down alright?" he asks, when Rain walks back into the room next to her mother.

"Out like lambs," Mrs. Phoenix replies, and steps forward, putting her hands in Orlando's. "I know the reason you're here isn't a joyous one, but I wanted to give you a proper family welcome home dinner. Libby and Summer'll be here soon."

"I'm honored," Orlando replies, and kisses a papery cheek. "It'll be nice to see Libby again."

"You say that now," Joaquin mutters, not quite under his breath. He deftly dodges the swat Rain aims at him, then grins at her as he hears the front door open. "Sounds like company."

"Is that Joaquin I hear?" Mr. Phoenix booms as he stops inside the entranceway to the living room. "It's about time you found your way back home." Then his gaze lands on Orlando, stops. "'Lando."

"Sir." Orlando offers a small smile to the closest person he's ever had to a father.

"He followed me home, Pop," Joaquin says, grinning with unholy glee. "Can I keep him?"

"Listen to you," Rain says, managing to land the swat she aims this time before stepping behind her mother to avoid any possible retaliation.

"Welcome home, son," Mr. Phoenix says, and Orlando finds himself wrapped in a strong embrace a second later. Mr. Phoenix still smells of cigars and wood shavings, and the scent is a remarkably comfortable one.

Sidling up to his mother, Joaquin slips an arm around her waist. "It's real, Mama," he murmurs, giving her a light squeeze. "He's coming home, and things are gonna be good again."

"Not perfect, though," she says, striving for a light tone. She doesn't mention Josh, doesn't need to.

"Perfect's boring," Rain states, and rests her chin on Joaquin's shoulder to smile at her mother. "We're far more interesting."

"Mama, your son's too skinny," Mr. Phoenix declares when he lets go of Orlando and holds him at arms' length.

"I eat, I swear to you," Orlando protests with a laugh.

"Not enough," Joaquin says, more than a little smug as Rain agrees with him.

"Well, now that he's here," Mrs. Phoenix says, with a smile, "we'll work on that. I expect he'll be eating a healthy enough helping of my marinara tonight."

"I have had it. Recently." Orlando waggles his brows at Joaquin. "Your son here made it for me one night, and that's what convinced me to finally move back home."

"Good," she says, with a proud smile as she glances at Joaquin.

"I still haven't perfected her garlic bread," Joaquin admits, with a sheepish smile. "Which is why you didn't get any that night."

"I'll make my own judgments about how perfect the marinara sauce is," Orlando replies.

"Spoken like a true gentleman," Mrs. Phoenix says, and kisses him on the cheek. "Why don't you let Papa take you to the garage so he can show off his new auto. I'd like to borrow 'Quin for a minute, if you don't mind."

"Not at all." Just like old times, Orlando thinks, and doesn't even try to resist poking his tongue out at Joaquin as he walks out of the room with Papa Phoenix.

Joaquin rolls his eyes, then turns to face his mother. Once he gets a look at her face -- and Rain's -- he goes on the defensive, eyeing them both warily. "I came back just as soon as I could," he says.

Rain settles on the sofa, pats the space next to her. "Have a seat, Kitten."

He continues to eye her, taking care to leave some room between them. He perches on the edge of the sofa, just in case he needs to make a break for it. With his family, it never hurts to play it safe.

"I'm not going to bite you," Rain says, scooting over to slide her arm through Joaquin's.

Mrs. Phoenix drops in the chair next to the sofa. Wouldn't do to make him even more skittish. "Son, I'm going to be blunt, but as your mother, I feel I've earned the right. What's going on between you and Orlando?"

"I..." He blinks, then stares at his mother. "He's my brother, Mama. What kinda question is that?"

"A valid one," Rain murmurs, keeping hold of his arm as she feels his body tense.

"You've been in love with him since you were old enough to be in love with anyone," Mrs. Phoenix says softly. "And we all know he only had eyes for Josh, for all that he kept time with the ladies. So, I'll ask you again, is there anything going on between the two of you?"

For a moment, Joaquin just looks at her, jaw tight. Then he sighs, knowing he can't lie to her. Not like they'd be able to keep it hidden. "There is," he admits, patting Rain's hand as he looks at his mother. "And he loves me, Mama. I'm not...I won't give him up, not unless it's what he wants."

Mrs. Phoenix nods; it's about what she'd expected. And while part of her mourns the fact that she'll most likely never cry at either of their weddings, the most important thing is their happiness. "From the looks of the two of you, I don't see that happening."

"Doesn't mean we won't be giving you grandbabies," he says, offering a small smile as he reaches for her hand. "Just not in the traditional manner of being married first, that's all."

"As long as you're both happy." She smiles at him softly, then uses the opening to ask the question that's been on her mind since her sons had walked through the door. "Have you...is there any news?"

"Not much," Joaquin admits before settling back on the sofa. "All I know for sure is that the woman you saw was definitely Rita. Other than that..."

"I know what I saw."

"We know you did, Mama," Rain says, quietly. "And Kitten'll let us know as soon as he knows something. Won't you?"

"Mama, I don't have any answers for you. Not yet." He meets her gaze without flinching. "You have my word that I'm doing everything I can to find out what's going on. If it's what you think..."

"I know what I saw, son."

"I'm not doubting you." Rubbing the back of his neck, Joaquin looks down. He wishes he had answer, wishes he knew more. "Mac rhinks the little boy is my son, but he ain't got any proof."

"Then you get your proof and you bring that little boy and his mama home to the family," she states, with steel in her voice, as she stands. "I'll go see about finishing up dinner."

"Mama..." Joaquin watches his mother walk out of the room, then glances at Rain. "She ain't listening. I'm trying, sis. If I could figure out a reason why Rita wouldn't've come to me..."

"Oh, baby, she is listening," Rain says, putting a comforting arm around her brother's waist. "She's just...you know Mama. Family's everything. She knows you'd have never let that girl go if you'd known she was carrying."

"I just..." He shakes his head, not at all ashamed to lean into Rain's embrace. "Deep down, I know that kid is mine. And I've lost three years of his life."

Rain presses a kiss to Joaquin's hair, heart hurting for him, for the child, for all of them. "Well, you've just got to put that behind you, and, if it turns out what you say is true, then...just do the best job you can from here on out to let that little boy know his daddy loves him."

"You know...'Lando's the first thing I've done right in the last five years," he says, twisting to rest his head on her shoulder.

"Then I'd say you're starting off on the right track," Rain replies, and kisses his hair. "We all got a lot of time to make up for. But the important thing is that the family's back together."

"Family," he murmurs, kissing her jaw before pulling away. It's just in time to see his father lead Orlando back into the house. "Proud of that thing, ain't he?"

"Very," Orlando replies, smiling at how cozy Rain and Joaquin look. "You two been gossiping about me?"

"Always," Joaquin says, grinning as he reaches out to catch Orlando's hand before he can go past.

Orlando gives Joaquin a puzzled look, then glances at Rain. Who just smiles back at him. Odd. "What's going on?" he asks, suspicion creeping into his voice.

"Nothing." Still grinning, Joaquin tugs on Orlando's hand, doing his best to pull Orlando off-balance. Knowing that Rain and his mother would approve -- even if he doesn't quite know how his father is going to take it -- Joaquin looks up at Orlando, smiles, and says, "Love you, baby."

"Love you, too," Orlando replies, automatically, then stops, eyes going wide as he looks from Rain to Mr. Phoenix.

"Bout damn time," is all Mr. Phoenix says, and nods before disappearing down the hall towards the kitchen.

"I'd say that answers that question," Rain laughs, and slides off the sofa, kissing Joaquin's forehead, then pressing a kiss to Orlando's cheek. "Don't act so shocked, 'Lando. We've known for years."

"You...you have?"

"Not like he," she says, pointing at Joaquin, "could keep it a secret. It was all over his face every time he looked at you."

"Like to think I was a little more discreet than that," Joaquin mutters, tugging on Orlando's wrist again. "They bullied me into admitting it."

"Bullied you, did they?" Orlando replies, deciding that amusement might be the best course of action. He also takes the hint and settles next to Joaquin, still keeping their hands clasped. "How horrible of them."

"It was awful," Joaquin says, with a sober nod, even though his sparkle with barely contained glee. "They ganged up on me and just forced it right out."

"Yeah, like you tried so hard to dodge the question when Mama asked you," Rain says, with a very unladylike snort.

"I bet you played real hard to get," Orlando laughs, and leans in to nuzzle at Joaquin's neck.

"I can't lie to my mama," Joaquin protests, batting half-heartedly at Orlando. Even that small protest is spoiled by the way he tips his chin to allow Orlando better access.

"Not unless he wants his mouth washed out with soap," Rain laughs, watching them for a second with fond amusement. Then she shakes her head and leaves the room quietly.

"Any more surprises for me?" Orlando asks quietly, brushing his lips across Joaquin's now that they're alone.

"No, just that." Resting his forehead against Orlando's, Joaquin smiles. "They didn't want details, thank God, but I think they both know. Feels good not to have to hide it."

"Yeah, I guess it does." Once again, Orlando's reminded how different this is from what he had with Josh. "So, after dinner, where're you taking me next?"

"Thought maybe we'd go out for a bit," Joaquin says, tipping his head to nuzzle Orlando's ear. "Take you to one of the joints Lucky opened last year. Real high-class place."

"Gonna show me off, is that it?" Orlando teases, shivering slightly and clasping Joaquin's knee. "Parade me around now that you've got me back home?"

"Damn right I am," Joaquin murmurs. His lips trail along Orlando's throat and jaw, and he smiles. "May as well start getting everyone used to the idea you're coming home."

"Gonna take some people some time to get used to the idea that we ain't aiming to kill each other," Orlando murmurs, then ducks his head for a soft kiss. He can't believe how good, how right, this feels.

"They'll get used to it." Joaquin returns the kiss, smiling the entire time. Still hard to believe this is real, that they're here like this...that the family accepts it. "If not," he murmurs, rubbing his lips over Orlando's again, "they'll answer to me."

"No, both of us," Orlando stresses, and nips on Joaquin's lower lip to drive the point home. "We're a team again, 'Quin. For the rest of our lives."

"Like the sound of that," Joaquin says, tongue flicking out to slide over the bitten spot on his lip. His eyes darken as he watches Orlando. "Take you home after that, lay you out on my bed..."

"Will you now?" Orlando licks his lips, drags a finger up along Joaquin's thigh. "Gonna introduce me all proper-like to my new home?"

"Count on it." Joaquin captures Orlando's wandering hand and presses it against his groin. He's already half-hard. "Our home now, baby," he whispers, lips touching Orlando's ear, "and you'll be the first person in that bed."

"Better be the only one," Orlando replies, and cups Joaquin's groin, pulling back just far enough to look deep into jade eyes. "I don't mind sharing you, never will, but our bed is ours and no one else's."

"Never disrespect you like that," Joaquin says, gaze never wavering. His hips lift, press against Orlando's palm. "You'll be the only one ever in that bed with me."

"Good," Orlando murmurs, possessive and low, and jerks on the back of Joaquin's head, pulling him in for a hard, toe-curling kiss.

Joaquin groans into the kiss, tongue sliding along Orlando's. It takes all of his control to keep from pushing for more, and he's aware of his parents and sister in the next room. He pulls back with reluctance, smiling a little when someone clears their throat.

"On Mama's sofa, 'Quin, really," Summer says, in her best shocked voice, even though her lips are twitching in a smile.

"Well, in our defense, she does approve," Orlando laughs, pressing a last kiss to Joaquin's lips before standing.

"So does Pops," Joaquin says, smirking as he stretches. "So don't you go fussing at me."

"Shameless is what the two of you are," George mutters. "I suppose the two of you got caught, so the cat's out of the bag now?"

"Not at all," Orlando replies with a smirk. "From what 'Quin tells me, they just sprung the question on him while I was looking at Papa's new auto."

"They bullied me, George," Joaquin insists. He puts a hand over his heart and gives them his best innocent look. "Mama just up and asked, and you know I can't lie to her!"

"Uh huh," George says, giving them both a level look. Then his eyes narrow. "And just what the hell are the two of you doing here, anyway? And where's the rest of 'em?"

"Lou and Lawrence are looking after things for me back in Chicago until I get back," Orlando replies. Then he exchanges a look with Joaquin. "And, uh, we're here on a job. Sort of."

"Sort of?" Summer frowns. "What's that mean?"

Joaquin looks down and brushes at imaginary lint on his trousers. "Mama saw a little boy that looks like River did when he was a kid," he says, voice quiet.

Eyes wide, George sucks in his breath and stares at Joaquin, then Summer, moving immediately to rest a hand against the small of her back.

"I don't...are you trying to tell me that you think that River...?"

"No," Orlando replies, giving Summer a small, sad smile. "We think..." he squeezes Joaquin's hand, "we think it might be 'Quin's."

"'Quin's?" Summer's sure her eyes couldn't possibly get any wider. "But you're...you told me you were being careful after..."

"I was." Gripping Orlando's hand tight, Joaquin lifts his eyes to meet Summer's. "I thought I was."

"Who...?" George is almost afraid to hear the answer.

"Rita."

"Ah." Nodding, George slips his arm around Summer's waist. "Drinking a lot then."

"I remember," Summer replies, softly. "So, you think it might be, then."

"All we know for certain is that Rita does have a son that's the right age," Orlando says. "Beyond that...we're still trying to figure it out."

"I see."

"Summer, I didn't know," Joaquin says, looking up at her, eyes silently pleading for her to understand. He reaches for her hand, hating the way her fingers are limp against his.

"I know." Summer wishes she could give her brother the comfort he seems to so desperately need. But the shock is still too great. "Family is everything."

"It is," Orlando agrees. "Which is why we're going to do our best to find out if it's true, and if it is, then we'll bring him home."

"Yeah." His hand falls from hers, and Joaquin slumps back on the sofa. He barely registers Rain returning to the room.

Stopping in the door, Rain looks from one person to the next, gaze finally stopping on Orlando. "What's going on?"

"Summer and George wanted to know why we were here," Orlando shrugs, and sits back down next to Joaquin, grasping his hand again. "Love you, baby," he murmurs.

"You knew?" Summer rounds on Rain, and narrows her eyes. "You knew about this and didn't tell me?"

"I didn't know anything," Rain says, just as much steel in her voice as in Summer's. "Mama's the one who saw the boy, and I wasn't about to tell you. You've got enough on your plate right now, planning a wedding."

Joaquin turns into Orlando's warmth, burying his face in the curve of Orlando's neck for a moment. "Love you," he whispers, before shifting just enough so he can see his sisters. "Stop. Ain't no use fighting over what's done."

"He's right," Orlando says. "Best thing is to move forward and do what we all can to get to the bottom of this."

"So long as you let us all know what you find out," Summer says, no room for argument in her voice.

"You think I'd keep the truth from you?" Joaquin's eyes are blazing when he shifts around, coming half off the couch before he stops himself. "My son will know his family."

"No one's doubting that, Kitten," Rain says, giving Summer a calm look. "But you know perfectly well that you don't always tell us things until well after the fact."

"I do it to keep you safe."

"You can't keep us safe forever," Summer replies, then pokes George in the chest. "And if you agree with him, so help me, I'll call this off right now. I refuse to play some wilting flower when it comes to my family."

George gives her a dark look as he catches her hand. "I agree with him that there are some things you don't need to know right away," he says. "And that there are some things you don't ever need to know. But you know that family ain't included in either one of those, so don't be making threats, baby girl, 'less you want to be turned across my knee."

"Just stop," Joaquin says, tired as he slumps back beside Orlando again. "I don't know any more than I've said, but I've got people working on it. You'll know when I do."

Summer just sniffs, even though she leaves her hand in George's. Turn her over his knee, indeed. She'd like to see him try.

"Now, if we're all done causing a fuss, I came in here to let you know that dinner's ready," Rain says, looking at everyone in turn. "I hope you all brought your appetites. 'Lando, 'Quin, you wanna help me wake up the boys?"

"You bet," Orlando smiles, and stands, pulling Joaquin up with him. "It'll be alright, love," he whispers, for Joaquin's ears alone. "We'll get it sorted."

"We'll get 'em," Joaquin says to Rain, after a soft smile for Orlando. "You go on back in and do whatever you need to do in there."

"No dawdling," Rain says, giving him a stern look and shaking her finger. "I know you and those two boys."

Orlando just grins and takes Joaquin's hand as they head up the stairs. Everything may still be up in the air, but Orlando's going to take all the joy he can where he can find it.

***