The jet touched down. Kaiba hated America. But he needed to get out of Domino City, and a certain fuck up in New York coincidentally happened at the time he needed. So here he was, in New Jersey. A river away from his private hell-on-earth.

There was a sleek black towncar waiting on the tarmac. Isono really was his best P.A., no exceptions. His driver even had a coffee waiting for him. A little colder than he liked it, but he supposed that was the wait.

His favourite compilation of classical music played over the speakers during the drive, the mix just long enough it was just beginning to loop by the time the car glided into place in front of the large skyscraper that houses the few floors that constituted Kaiba Corp's American headquarters.

And there, standing beside the rotating doors of the foyer, was a handsome blond he did not expect to see again. He was older, his hair was dusted with white hair at the temples, his mouth and eyes beginning to wrinkle, a slight paunch developing around his middle. But he was dressed in a neat three-piece suit, looking down at a KC tablet through a pair of frameless reading glasses.

His driver opened the car and Kaiba stepped out, grabbing his briefcase and sweeping towards the doors.

"Mr Kaiba," Wheeler greeted, his voice still that same obnoxious Brooklyn accent. "Your bags will be transported to your hotel. The documentation for the hostile takeover attempts are waiting on your desk for your perusal. I would say at your leisure, but it's more of a pressing timeframe than that. You have a four o'clock meeting with the board—what would you prefer to be served at the meeting?"

"A selection of hors d'oeuvre," Kaiba replied. "I hardly want to reward them for this mess by giving them high class cuisine."

Kaiba could hear a slight smile in his voice. "Noted. Will there be anything else, sir?"

"Set up a conference call with Mokuba, then go to my hotel room, arrange it how I like." He pressed the button for the correct floor. "Also make sure that the Kaiba Corp legal department in Domino know the correct address and fax number for my hotel. I am awaiting important documentation."

"Business matters, sir?"

"Personal."

Wheeler asked no futher questions. He tapped rapidly at the tablet. "Would you like Mokuba to be patched in to a conference room, or your personal office?"

"My office. And make sure Conference Room 1 is heated to exactly 69 degrees."

"Yes sir."

The doors opened on their floor and Kaiba swept out. He tossed his coat and briefcase on the empty desk of his secretary. Wheeler had walked past him into the office, and was rapidly typing at the computer. By the time Kaiba sat in his chair, the call to Mokuba was already connecting.

"And Wheeler?" He said. "Call Blue Moon. Blond. On standby, have them sent to my hotel when I leave the office."

Wheeler paused in the doorway. He turned back, his face carefully neutral. "Blue Moon shut down three years ago, Sir. There was a company that absorbed some of the clientele that I can call instead."

"Just get it organized, Wheeler."

"Yes sir."

"His employment has been terminated and his shares have been redistributed into your name until you can find his replacement."

"Wheeler," Kaiba said impatiently. "I didn't bring you here on a Saturday to talk business."

"Oh."

They were sat in a private banquet room at one of the most exclusive tea houses in the East Village. Two chipped, cracked cups of macha tea sat on the table. Kaiba's was nearly finished, but the blond hadn't even touched his. As soon as he'd sat down, he'd launched into an update on the recovery of Kaiba Corp USA.

The blond picked the cup up, sipped it, then set it back down on the table. "So why am I here? On a Saturday?"

Kaiba sighed. "He's divorcing me."

"Oh."

"He says that he does not wish to spend his life in a loveless marriage, and now that his father has died and I have officially inherited his company, he no longer sees a reason to continue being my husband."

Wheeler reached up, running his fingers through his hair. "Damn. That's cold."

Kaiba rubbed at his finger, where he used to wear his wedding ring up until two weeks ago. "It was peculiar," he said quietly. "When I found out, all I wanted to do was tell you."

The blond was silent. Clearly he didn't know what to say to that one. "That would be the personal paperwork the legal department has been sending to your hotel room." He paused. "Is that why you're here? Because up until Tuesday, it was Mokuba coming out here to deal with the take-over."

"Yes," he replied quietly. "I wanted to get away."

Wheeler's phone chimed. He took it out, a slight smile crossing his lips, before he slid it back inside his pocket. "Was there something you wanted me to help with, Kaiba? Arrangements, or…?"

"No," Kaiba said quietly. "He's causing trouble. Some things weren't in the prenup and he's making noise about them."

"Just give it to him."

Kaiba's head launched up, staring down the blond in shock. "What?" He demanded.

"Whatever it is he's picking a fight over. Is it expensive or sentimental?"

"The former."

"Then just give it to him, Kaiba," he said bluntly. "You've got enough money. Buy another one. He's just trying to drag things out, or hurt you. Since when do you let people have power over you?"

Kaiba grunted at that. "Maybe you're right." He watched Wheeler sip from the cup again. "Mokuba said you were engaged," he said in a low voice. "Are you…?"

"It didn't work out," he said quietly.

"Oh. I'm sorry. Was he…?"

"She," he said quietly.

Kaiba had to pause at that. He hadn't known Wheeler was in to women as well. "Did she…?"

"She decided she wasn't cut out for the life that I would be providing for her. It was an amicable split. Mostly." The blond shifted in his seat, falling out of seiza and then back into it. "I've been working for Kaiba Corp, helping out when I need to, working under Mokuba when he's been here."

"Are you… with anyone?" Kaiba found himself uncharacteristically hesitant as he asked that question.

Wheeler chuckled. "No," he said quietly. "I'm not exactly the hot commodity I was at twenty-nine, Kaiba."

"You're not even thirty-six."

"I feel much older." He ran a hand through his hair, almost self-consciously scraping back the white at his temples. "So why did you bring me here, Kaiba? You know what Americans are like about weekends."

Kaiba raised his eyebrows. "Am I keeping you from something?" He asked.

"I'm going ice skating with Shay in Central Park later. That's all. I don't want it to be too late. Trains are always a nightmare this time of year." One shoulder raised in a shrug.

He sighed, turning the cup around in his hands. "I was going to ask if you were interested in continuing the same sort of relationship we had prior to my departure six years ago." He glanced up at him, gaze unrelenting. "I recall that you do not get yourself involved with married men. The finalization of my divorce isn't complete quite yet, but if you let me know when I am a suitable option again…"

"Kaiba," he interrupted. "Not tonight. Try to avoid weekends, late nights unless you let me know in advance. I have to organize things with Shay."

Who the hell was Shay? Wheeler had said he wasn't with anyone. But still, he nodded. "I can do that. It's more than reasonable." He set down his cup and rose to his feet. "Enjoy Central Park. Can you come in early Monday?"

Wheeler nodded, drained his cup, and rose to his feet. "Try and enjoy your weekend, Kaiba.

The pretty blond escort left Kaiba's bedroom, grinning as he spotted Wheeler waiting on the couch. "Hi there," he cooed.

Wheeler's voice was low and professional. "Good morning."

"Oh, it is good," the other blond said, with a sort of smug satisfaction. Then he added, sotto voice, "you know he made me cum eight times last night."

Wheeler snorted. "That's just excessive," he said. "Do I need to call you a car?"

"No thanks. Agency sent a car. It's waiting for me already."

The sound of the door closing proceeded Wheeler stepping into his room. "You've got a press conference at noon," he replied. "Do you want the white suit, or the blue?"

Kaiba was naked, unsurprisingly, covered by a thin sheet. "Navy," he answered. "Plain. Not pinstripe."

Wheeler took it out of the closet, hanging it over the door. "Your notes for the press release are waiting in the car. I had your new secretary clear your morning schedule to prep for it."

"What are you sullen about?" He asked, sitting up and wrapping the towel around his hips.

"Eight times," Wheeler muttered, lightly turning his towel rack. "You must be happy."

Kaiba raised his eyebrows. "Blue with white stripes. Are you jealous?"

Wheeler picked the right tie, laid it over the shoulder of the suit. "…yes," he replied eventually. "It's been a while."

Kaiba raised his eyebrows. "Wheeler, I've made it clear I'm available for our arrangement to resume."

"I didn't just mean you," he said quietly. "Though you were a very good lover. I meant… at all. It's just been me and my trusty right hand for a while."

Kaiba grabbed Wheeler by the belt loops. "I've told you before, Wheeler." He reached to undo the buckle. "I'll give you anything you want. You just have to ask for it." He looked up at him, lips turning up in a smirk. "But now," he said, "I'm going to blow you. Then, I'm going to fuck you. And then, you're going to prep me for the press release."

Wheeler's hands buried in Kaiba's hair, moaning as he took the blond's cock deep into his mouth. "Yes, Boss."

Wheeler had started wearing undershirts some point in the past several years. No doubt subconscious about the weight gain around his middle. Kaiba sort of missed stripping the blond naked and mercilessly driving his body with pleasure. His recovery time was longer; he couldn't make him come twice in one session any more. So he took him, three times every day he could—before work, during lunch, and after everyone else had gone.

Wheeler shifted, coming out of his half-asleep doze. "Mm." He pulled his head off Kaiba's chest. "W's'time?"

Kaiba didn't answer, but he didn't need to. Wheeler raised his wrist and squinted at the watch. It was still the watch Kaiba had given him six years ago.

He gasped sharply and sat up. "Shit!"

Kaiba slowly sat up, watching up. "What is it?"

"Oh, man. Serenity is going to kill me," he said. He tugged his pants back on, grabbed his shoes and his shirt. "I've gotta go."

Kaiba scowled, watching him rush towards the door. Who was Serenity now? First Shay and now Serenity? How many people was Wheeler running at the same time?

The blond left the office, then stuck his head back in. "My sister."

"Pardon?"

"Serenity. Wheeler. She's my sister."

"Why do you think I care?"

Wheeler just chuckled and pulled his shirt on as he headed out again.

Kaiba yanked open the door and glared furiously at his young new secretary. "Where the hell is my P.A.?" He demanded.

"Joey?" She asked, worriedly. "Mr Kaiba, I'm so sorry! I forgot to tell you! He's out today. He called out—family emergency."

His scowl deepened at that, furious. "You get me his number."

"Mr Kaiba, I can't—"

"You get him on the phone in half an hour or you are fired!" he snarled, and slammed the door violently behind him.

He sat back at his desk, angrily tapping his nails on the surface. Impatient, he picked up the phone, hitting the button to listen in to the call she was making.

"Joseph Wheeler," his secretary repeated.

A male voice answered: "we don't have anyone working here under that name."

"No, he's not an employee," she said, sounding nervous. "He should be there, accompanying a patient."

"What's the patient's name?"

"Shay."

"Please hold."

There was a wait, that may have only been a minute or two, but seemed to stretch on to eternity for Kaiba.

The line did pick up again. "Are you still there?"

"Yes."

"I'll patch you through now. For your future reference, you need to call extension P-110 to reach the correct room."

"Thank you."

The low purr of a ringing phone sounded soon afterward. "You can hang up now," Kaiba coolly said to his secretary.

She did so with a frightened squeak.

After a moment, the other line picked up. "…hello?"

"Wheeler," he growled.

"Oh, shit! Kaiba," he cursed. "Sorry. I should've called. I'm at the hospital." He gave a heavy sigh. "I can't leave."

"Where's my—"

"The USB with the presentation is in the third drawer of your desk, along with your speech notes. And your red tie, in case you wanted to be that little bit bolder. The catering is already organised. You can send an intern to turn down the thermostat—ask for Carter, he's reliable."

"I needed you here today, Wheeler," he growled.

"I know. I'm sorry. But Shay needed me more."

That sent blistering anger through his chest. "I'm hanging up now," he announced, and then slammed the receiver down. "Send Carter out for my coffee!" he shouted into the intercom on his desk, then went to fish out what he needed for the board meeting.

It went well enough. It could have been better, but he glared down anyone who seemed to think he wasn't doing a capable enough job of hosting it. It was nearly end-of-day by the time he got out from the meeting, and headed back towards his office.

A gathering of workers was crowded around his secretary's desk.

"Precisely what is going on here?" He asked coldly.

A few of them were scared away. His secretary piped up bravely, "we're signing a card for Shay, and sending it with some flowers." She received a frown for that, and added: "everyone here adores Shay. He is just the sweetest—"

"I'll take them down myself. I need to have a discussion with Wheeler."

She looked concerned but nodded and sealed the card up, tucking them in a flower arrangement. "He's at King's County, sir."

"In Brooklyn?"

"I'll have a car ready for you downstairs."

It took a frustratingly long time to cross the bridge, and work through the mess of rush-hour traffic to get to the hospital, and he spent almost all of that time glaring at the flower arrangement the office staff had bought. He didn't know what he was going to do when he saw Wheeler, but firing him seemed like a brilliant idea the longer he stewed in the back of a towncar.

He stopped at the reception and glared at the woman from around the flowers. "P-110."

The nurse frowned at him. "The paediatric ward? Follow the signs."

So he did, getting angrier with every step. Why would Wheeler's boyfriend be there? Unless they ran out of rooms, or Wheeler was messing around with someone underage.

The nursing station there was considerably more friendly. "I'm looking for Wheeler," he said.

A latin woman smiled slightly. "Shay?" she guessed. "He's in surgery right now. But his room is down this way."

"Actually, I'm looking for Joey Wheeler," he replied. "But if an orderly could take these to his room…"

The nurse took them herself, and nodded her head down the hallway. "Op's down there. He's probably waiting by the doors."

Kaiba walked off down the direction she'd pointed, stewing in his fury. As soon as he saw Wheeler, however, it evaporated.

He looked exhausted—utterly wrecked. His hands were clasped, the lower half of his face resting on them. His eyes were closed, but the bags under them was obvious. His hair was a mess, and he was still dressed in yesterday's clothes.

Kaiba, who'd stopped at seeing him, tentatively approached him.

Wheeler turned his head at the footsteps. At seeing Kaiba, his hands dropped. "Kaiba…" He rose to his feet.

Kaiba stopped in front of him, feeling awkward without his anger. "The meeting went fine. The staff sent a card, and flowers. The nurse took them into his room."

Wheeler just yanked him close, pulling him into a tight hug. One more for his own comfort than Kaiba's. "Thank you for coming," he murmured, his voice tired.

Kaiba wrapped his arms back around the blond. "Is it serious, or…?"

"No," he said, shaking his head. "It's just appendicitis. He should be out any minute. The surgeon already left."

"…good," Kaiba said, pulling out of the embrace. "Everyone at the office was really worried about Shay."

Wheeler smiled a little, rubbing the side of his face. "Do you want to meet him?"

"I don't think that would be the best—"

He never got to finish his sentence. The O.R. doors opened, and they wheeled out a gurney. A small gurney. With a small form under crisp sheets.

"Shay," Wheeler breathed, relieved, and caught up with the gurney as the orderlies pulled it down the hallway.

Kaiba was frozen in place. That was a child. A very young child.

…Shay wasn't Wheeler's boyfriend.

He was his son.

He followed their wake, oddly numb. Once the extra bodies had left the room, Kaiba could only stand in the doorway and watch Wheeler perch on the edge of the bed—and his son.

He was small, couldn't be more than four years old. He'd thought, for a crazy moment, that Shay could've been his kid—his and Wheeler's. But his age disproved that. He didn't know why he felt so disappointed at that.

"He's young."

Wheeler looked back at him, gave a little smile. "Yeah. It's an early case for appendicitis," he agreed, "but the doc said it can happen as early as 2." He paused, watching him. "Are you coming in? Nurse said he'd be out for a little while, but you could wait with me…"

"No." He shook his head and straightened. "I'm not…very good with sick kids. I'm just going to… go back to my hotel." He gave Wheeler a pained look. When the blond opened his mouth to reply, he hurriedly said: "take the rest of the week off. Look after your kid. I'll see you bright and early Monday."

"…okay." Wheeler turned his attention back to the small form on the bed. "Thanks, Kaiba. See you next week."

Kaiba was surveying Wheeler over the top of his menu. The blond was on the phone, talking rapidly to one of the other P.A.s on the other end of the line. Eventually, he did hang up, and set that phone on the white tablecloth of the table. "Sorry. You know how it is."

"Indeed."

Wheeler picked up the menu, eyes roving over the lists. "So. Is this business or pleasure?"

"Pleasure." Kaiba replied.

Wheeler raised his eyebrows slightly, but didn't look away from the menu. "Oh."

"We can't meet after business hours, you said," he begun carefully. "Is that because you prefer to be home with Shay?"

The blond nodded. "Serenity picks him up from day care, but I still like to spend time with him in the evenings." He looked up at Kaiba over the menu. "That's not really negotiable, Kaiba."

"No, of course not," he said, shaking his head. "But… perhaps later in the evening? After he's gone to sleep for the night."

Wheeler fixed him with a confused look. "Well… I guess I could. Serenity might not like it, but…" He frowned at Kaiba. "Why, Kaiba?"

"I want you to spend the evening with me," he answered. "In my hotel."

"Oh." Wheeler was quiet, reading the menu and flipping over to the next page before he answered. "I'll have to organise it with Serenity. But after nine o'clock, I can probably manage it."

Kaiba smiled. "I'll have my P.A. organise it for you."

Wheeler snorted. "Brat."