Author's note: I intend to write another installment to this particular story series that will focus on Ronald and William, next. Thank you all so much for your feedback and support!

It was wonderful to be back in England. Eric never would have imagined himself missing this place when he first transferred from his homeland, but now he couldn't imagine life away from it. Alan helped him train his accent again, so that he wouldn't have to constantly repeat himself for his British coworkers to understand him. Over time, he got so good at emulating their accent, one could hardly tell he was not born there. When he was alone with Alan, however, he did not need to mask his true accent—and his partner preferred it that way.

He started to learn more about flowers, too. While he wasn't particularly interested in them himself, Alan had a love for them. Anytime he found a flower that he could not identify, all he needed to do was ask his partner and he would not only get the name of the bloom, but a brief history behind it. On one sunny, spring afternoon he was listening to his partner explain the origins of the bluebell flowers, when an idea occurred to him.

"Move in wi' me."

Alan paused in his explanation, and he looked at the taller reaper with wide eyes. "P-pardon?"

Eric smiled and stepped closer, admiring the way the soft breeze ruffled his partner's brown hair. "I'm asking yeh tae move in wi' me, partner. Yeh already spend most o' tha time at my place, an' half yer clothes are stashed in mah closet an' dresser. I've go' plenty of room fer tha rest of yer things, an' we can sort out where tae put yer furniture, if ya dun' want tae get rid of any of it. Move in wi' me."

Alan stared at him for a moment as if suspecting a joke, and then he smiled. "Really? Are you sure?"

Eric put his arms around him and drew him close, nodding. "I'm sure. Place gets lonely when yer no' around. I think th' apartment misses yeh as much as I do."

Alan chuckled with amusement. "Buildings can't miss people." He put his arms around the taller reaper's neck. "But if you're sincere, I would love to move in with you, Eric. I'm not attached to any of my furniture, and it came with the apartment, anyhow. All I've got to move are my clothes and some kitchenware, really."

The Scotsman lowered his head for a kiss, his beard tuft tickling Alan's skin. "Good. We can get started on moving yer things in tomorrow."

He didn't mention the other idea that was on his mind, because it was a bit more frightening than moving in together. Same gender spousal arrangements weren't unheard of for reapers, but they were quite uncommon. Marriage was generally a thing reserved for male and female couples intending to have children together. Most same gender couples were content to do without the spousal agreement, seeing as there was no practical reason for it. As Eric kissed his partner again, he thought it might be nice to someday take vows with him and share a surname…but there was no rush.

"So the two of you are moving in together?" Grell asked the following day as he and Alan ascended the steps of the Great Library—both of them having collections to turn in.

Alan nodded. "That's the plan, yes."

Grell snorted. "It's about time, I say! You two have been together for well over a year now, and you already act like a married couple!"

Alan smiled at him. "Really? I hadn't noticed."

Grell pushed the doors open for them both. "Well of course you haven't noticed, darling. That's what makes it so perfect! The most ideal couples never notice how bloody cute they are together, after all."

The redhead sighed and looked down at his boots as they walked the tiled floors of the library together. "So in love with each other. I envy you, you know. What I would not give for a handsome man to look at me the way your Eric looks at you."

At once, Alan felt pity for the flamboyant reaper. He reached out and patted his slim shoulder. "You'll find someone eventually, Miss Sutcliff. I just know it."

"Evidently not William," sighed Grell, raising his eyes to the chandelier and the encircling levels of vaults. "My cold prince hardly even knows I exist, save for when I agitate him enough to remind him."

Alan grimaced helplessly. It was plain to see that Grell still had his heart set on Spears, but the attractive, raven-haired supervisor clearly did not return his affections. He put up with Grell, certainly. In fact, Sutcliff tended to get away with more than the average Dispatch agent. Still, whatever hidden affection William might harbor for him, it was obvious to Alan that he never intended to allow a romance to blossom.

"Maybe you should start setting your sights elsewhere," suggested the brunet softly. "I think it would be less frustrating, if you did."

Grell brought a gloved hand to his mouth, and he nibbled away a loose thread. "One would think. I know that I'm only hurting myself by entertaining these fantasies of him coming to his senses and sweeping me off my feet. I'm not completely blind. It's just…he was the first reaper to ever best me. I won't settle for a man that isn't a stronger fighter than myself, you see. If he cannot subdue me…."

Grell shrugged and grinned, casting a wink at Alan. "Well, I'm sure you know all about the pleasures of being helplessly pinned down by a gorgeous man, after all."

A blush suffused Alan's cheeks. Honestly, Sutcliff's conversations always veered off into the most lewd places, at times. "I'm afraid that's private," he whispered, casting a look around at the other reapers coming and going from the library.

Grell laughed softly and put an arm around him. "Have I embarrassed you again, darling? I'm simply dreadful about that, aren't I?"

"Sometimes you speak the way a dirty romance novel reads," admitted Alan with a smirk.

Grell laughed at that. "I do spend a lot of time with my nose stuck in romance books. A maiden has to get her pleasure from somewhere, after all!"

Alan chuckled. "I suppose I can't fault you for that." He thought of young Ronald Knox, and the way he sometimes noticed him watching William Spears covertly. Luckily, Grell hadn't noticed it yet. In fact, Alan thought he might be the only one to have picked up on it. Ronald was very good at covering it up, and the boy made it a daily mission to flirt with as many girls as he possibly could.

"So, how are things going with your apprentice?" he asked as they approached the reception desk and handed over their collections. "He seems to have a lot of potential."

"Oh, he does," agreed Grell with a little smirk. "But the ladies distract him so! We can hardly finish a collection without him offering to take some random chit out for tea or lunch. If he could just focus, I am sure he could become one of the most lucrative agents in our division."

He sighed and checked his watch. "In fact, I have a training session with him that I must get to. Hopefully the little terror will arrive on time for it. In addition to his skirt-chasing, he has a bad habit of being late."

"At least he isn't getting picked on," muttered Alan, remembering his old academy days with unfortunate clarity. "Isn't there a dance scheduled for the weekend?"

"Mm, yes." Grell smiled. "In fact, I plan to treat my cute little fledgling to a nice dress suit for the occasion. Don't say anything, though; he doesn't know."

Alan smiled. "That's really kind of you, Grell. He must be growing on you."

Grell snorted. "His fault for being so wretchedly adorable. Now I know what it's like to be a Mum."

Alan laughed softly. "Well, I'm glad this arrangement is working out. I was worried for a while that you'd be so resentful that you'd mistreat him."

Grell sighed and waved a hand languidly in the air. "I tried to resent him, to be honest. But Ronnie is so bloody endearing, it just would not stick!" He abruptly kissed Alan on the cheek, leaving a red lipstick imprint. "I'd best be off now, darling. Say 'hello' to your bold, handsome Scotsman for me!"

Alan impulsively rubbed at the spot to wipe off the lipstick as Grell took off. "I will. Have a good afternoon, Grell."

"Wow, this place is kinda expensive," observed Ronald a few days later, when Grell took him to a gentlemen's attire shop. "Senpai, I don't think I can afford any o' these."

Grell smiled and winked at him. "You can with your mentor's support, sweetness. Come on, let's get you all sorted out for the dance!" He took Ronald's hand and practically dragged him into the shop with him.

"Wait…what?" sputtered the two-toned reaper. "G-Grell…are ya offering t' buy one o' these suits for me?"

"Hmm, think of it more as a loan," explained Grell. "You obviously can't afford such finery on your meager salary yet, so I'm willing to help you pay for it—but you will have to pay me back over time, understand? We can work out a payment plan after we get your suit, darling boy."

Ronald's eyes lit up adorably behind his square-framed trainee glasses. "Really? Oh man, I…I dunno what t' say!" He impulsively hugged the redhead, making Grell stagger a bit. "Thanks, Miss Sutcliff! Nobody's ever done this for me before…well, 'cept for my Mum. She bought me my uniform, after all."

Grell chuckled in spite of himself, holding Ronald at arm's length. "Well, now you have 'Mummy Grell' to help you out. Don't take advantage of me though, Mustard Seed. I expect you to repay me in full, over time."

Ronald nodded, his yellow-gold bangs flopping over his eyes. "Yes'm! I promise, you'll get every shilling back!"

"I'd better." Grell smiled and brushed the younger reaper's bangs out of his eyes. "Now, let's see about getting you fitted for your first proper dress suit, shall we?"

Ronald was just getting measured for his suit, when William T. Spears entered the shop. The boy went still, staring at the stately, handsome Dispatch supervisor as he walked in and began to examine the suits on display. He swallowed, feeling his mouth go suddenly dry as that piercing gaze lifted from one of the Italian brand suits to meet his.

"Part your thighs, please," requested the tailor taking his measurements. "I must get your inseam, now.

Ronald felt stupified. He couldn't move. William's gaze briefly roved over him, before settling on the redhead seated on the loveseat near the window.

"Young sir," said the tailor, "Please part your legs a bit."

"Oh…uh…right." Ronald did as directed, looking away from William with a blush. How could anyone be that sexy?

"Will!" Greeted Sutcliff as he looked up from the magazine he was reading. "Fancy meeting you here! Have you come to get another suit? You know, I'm quite handy with the measuring tape. No need to wait your turn, darling. I can take your measurements right here if—"

"That won't be necessary," interrupted William coolly. "Mister Gains already knows my measurements. I am merely here to pick up a suit I had ordered."

Grell pouted. "Such a shame. Taking your measurements would have surely brightened my day, William."

~Damn, I'd take his measurements too,~ thought Ronald, doing his best not to look at the head of his department. ~Even though I've got no idea how t' do it. Okay Ronnie…stop thinking about it. Might as well be reaching for the moon. Spears is your boss and ya can't compete with Grell. They've got a history together, after all.~

It was all well and good to reason with himself that William was off-limits, but Ronald couldn't stop himself from imagining the stoic reaper taking the tailor's place and measuring his body for his custom suit. He visualized William's gloved hands running over his thighs, reaching up between them to cup his package in a way that most certainly wasn't professional and…

"Um, I need t' use the loo," Ronald informed Mister Gains. He was starting to get into an embarrassing state, and the last thing he wanted was for Spears to notice his crotch poking out.

"Very well, then," said the tailor, rolling up his measuring tape. "I have the measurements now. Feel free to make use of the bathroom, young sir. It's the second door on the left, behind the curtain back there.

"Thanks!" Ronald hurried through said curtain and he locked himself into the bathroom. Leaning back against the door, he sighed and shut his eyes. "Come on, body…don't do this t' me. Get a grip!"

But his body wasn't listening. That delightfully obscene fantasy his mind had conjured up so abruptly kept replaying in his head, and he groaned.

"Guess I'll have to just take care of this m'self."

"I would not have imagined you to be the sort to pamper your fledgling this way," observed William as he watched Ronald vanish behind the curtain. His gaze went back to Grell. "It seems you've become rather taken with him."

Grell shrugged. "He's a good kid, all things aside. I still rather hate you for saddling me with this responsibility, but Ronnie is a loveable little thing, regardless."

"And now you have the perfect excuse to play dress-up," said William with a slight smirk.

"Well, he wouldn't allow me to put him in a gown," pouted Grell, "but he does make quite the entertaining little boy doll, regardless. Will you be chaperoning the dance, dear William?"

"As supervisor of our department, I have little choice," reminded the brunet. "I shall be there from the beginning to the last dance of the night. I suppose you will escort your trainee yourself?"

"Of course!" Grell smiled widely and relaxed in his seat. "And he'll be positively the most handsome young man at the ball! I shall spare no expense to see to that."

"Very good, then." William nodded cordially and pulled away before Grell could try to embrace him. He walked to the back of the shop and asked its keeper if he had the suit he ordered.

"Of course, Mr. Spears," informed the tailor. "I've got it hanging in the back room now. Would you like for me to retrieve it for you?"

"No need," assured William. "I know my way around the shop. I can fetch it myself."

As the tailor bowed in accord, William passed through the curtains and made his way down the hallway leading to the back storage room. He heard a moan from the bathroom as he passed it, and he paused. Another, softer moan followed, and William pressed his ear to the door curiously.

"Mister Knox, are you all right in there?"

"Y-yes!" The boy's voice sounded faintly panicked. "I'm fine, sir! Thanks!"

With a shrug, William continued on to retrieve his new suit for purchase.

On the night of the dance, both Eric and Alan were recruited to be chaperones for the event. Eric grumbled about it but Alan merely smiled as he adjusted his bolo tie in a finishing touch.

"Oh, it isn't all that bad," he said to his lover, checking himself over in the full-length, bedroom mirror. "Just think of how awkward the fledglings must feel! I recall my first dance. It was terrible. I knew I was supposed to find a dance partner, but none of the girls wanted anything to do with me, thanks to my bully."

"Hmph…must've been before I transferred," muttered Eric. He turned around and lifted his chin. "Alan, could ya help me with this tie? Damned thing doesnae want tae knot properly."

Alan hid a grin and he approached his lover to assist. Poor Eric always had trouble working ties. He hated them, in fact—which was why he always wore his loose whenever possible. "Calm down," he advised as he completely undid the sloppy knot that the blond had made and reworked it into something more formal. "It's only one night, Eric."

The Scotsman grunted. "One night o' pure hell, splashed wi' some teenaged hormones."

Alan chuckled. "You were that age too, once. I'm not so far beyond them, myself."

"But ya were always older than yer age," protested Eric, putting his arms around him. "Ye've always been verra mature, Al."

"My circumstances forced it a bit." Alan finished completing the slipknot, and he tugged the taller reaper's tie up around his collar. "There. You look so handsome."

Eric grinned and winked down at him. "Thanks tae me partner, maybe." He bent his head for a lingering kiss. "Now let's hope tae gods this night'll end wi'out any fighting."

Eric swore he'd been recruited into Hell. He watched the boys nervously approach the girls for dances—all save young Knox. The boy with the blond/black hair seemed to have no trouble attracting partners, and he smirked into his spiked punch as he watched Ronald twirl around on the dance floor with yet another young lady.

"Kid's got tha moves, I'll give 'im tha'," he remarked to his partner, leaning over to speak into his ear.

Alan nodded. "He's quite the charmer, Grell's apprentice. Just look at how proud Miss Sutcliff is."

Eric looked and he nearly burst into laughter. Grell was clinging to William's arm next to the buffet table, and the Dispatch supervisor stood with quiet dignity, having left off trying to shove his amorous companion away. Grell had his head on the taller reaper's shoulder and he was grinning with delight at his dancing apprentice. William reminded him of a wet cat, with that sour expression on his angular features.

"I dun' think Spears is havin' much fun," observed Eric, tilting his drink cup in the brunet's direction.

Alan sighed and snatched the punch out of his hand for a drink. "When does he ever…" He took a sip of the punch and he coughed, staring up at his taller companion with disbelief. "Eric, did you put alcohol in this?"

The Scotsman shrugged. "Just a bit of whisky. What's tha problem?"

"The problem is that these are students!" insisted Alan in scandalized tones. "You've got no business serving alcohol to underaged—"

"Relax," interrupted Eric with a chuckle. "I only spike mah own drink, Al. Not sae much as a single drop made it in tae tha punch bowl. I promise."

Alan did relax a bit. "Well, that's something, at least. Honestly though…is it really so awful that you can't stand to be at this event without a drink?"

Eric chuckled and pointed out one particularly clumsy youth that stepped on his dance partner's toes, drawing a yelp of annoyed pain from her. "When I'm reminded of all tha crud I had tae go through as a fledgling? Aye. It's no' like I'm gettin' drunk, love."

Alan sighed. "Fair enough." He took another sip of the punch and he grimaced, handing the drink back to his partner. "Ugh…it's all yours."

"Thought as much." Eric winked at him and took the cup back. He started to say something else, but then he noticed that Ronald Knox's wallet fell out of his pants whilst he was dancing. "Here, hold it fer me a minute," he said, handing the drink back to Alan.

Eric crossed the floor and picked up the wallet, only to have his eyes drawn to the photo of a reaper woman in it. He stared with furrowed brows at her image, recognition lighting his eyes.

"No bloody way," he muttered, looking at the young blond twirling away from him with his latest dance partner. "Fuck me…."

Ronald was doing his best to ignore William Spears as he danced the night away. He didn't even notice his wallet slipping out of his pocket, until Eric Slingby grabbed him by the shoulder and excused them both from the young woman he was dancing with.

"Ow, Eric-senpai…you're a li'l rough," protested the boy as he stumbled along with Eric.

The Scotsman eased his hold on him and he held up his walled. "Ya dropped this, lad. Sorry tae get rough wi' ya." He dragged his fingers through the loose part of his golden hair. "Wha's yer ma's name again, Ronnie?"

"Beatrice," answered the younger blond, scratching the back of his head in perplexity. "Why?"

Eric glanced down at the photo once more, before closing the wallet and handing it back to him. "How old are yeh again?"

"Eighteen, sir," answered Ronald. "Somethin' wrong?"

Eric stared at him blankly for a moment, before looking away. "It's nothin'. Sorry for tha scare, kid."

He gave Ronald a smile that seemed a bit forced, and he ruffled his hair. "Go back tae yer dancin'. Keep a better eye on yer wallet, too."

"Um…okay." Ronald's gaze flicked to William again, before he turned his attention back to his latest dance partner and pocketed his wallet. "Thanks for picking it up, sir."

"Eric, what in the world—"

Alan got dragged along outside the building into the parking lot, and he dug his heels in to stop his partner from dragging him further. "Eric, I demand to know what's going on, right now!"

Eric stopped and turned, looking at him with a bewildered expression on his handsome face. "Alan, I…oh fer fuck's sake, I dinnae even know where tae start!" He combed his fingers through his hair and he huffed in frustration.

Seeing that he was truly disturbed, Alan's frustration eased up and he reached out to touch the Scotsman's tensed right shoulder. "What is it, love? Can I…help?"

Eric stopped his compulsive grooming, and he looked at Alan with a pained expression. "Al…I think I might be Knox's father."

Alan stared at him, suspecting a joke. "That really isn't funny, Eric."

"It's no' meant tae be," countered the blond with a sigh. He leaned back against his car, and he dug into his blazer for his clove cigars. "Sweetheart, do ya remember asking me if the name 'Knox' rang a bell, back when I was still stuck in Scotland?"

Alan nodded. "Yes." His eyes widened. "Eric…oh, no…"

Eric sighed and looked at him as he retrieved a cigar from his case. "Aye…I think so. Tha name, tha hometown, tha mother…I saw a picture of her, an' I remember her. Back before I got transferred tae London Dispatch, I…had an assignment o'er here. There was some demon activity…more than London Dispatch could handle on their own. I got injured an' sought shelter in Sheffield. There was a reaper lady named Beatrice tha' took care o' me. Uh…she brought me tae her home on th' other side an'…well…one thing led tae another."

Alan kept staring at him, aghast. "Eric…you slept with her?"

"It was before we ever knew each o'er," excused the taller reaper. "I dinnae think anything would come of it! It was just…a thing. But…Ronald's eighteen. He's…he's go' mah smile an her hair. Fuck!"

He turned around and slammed his palms over the hood of his car. "She ne'er told me."

Alan came up behind him and embraced him. "Eric, please calm down. You…you didn't know. It's okay. He's safe, and he's got a good mentor. Even if she'd told you…even if he really is your son…he's doing just fine, isn't he? How different would it have been, otherwise?"

Eric turned around to face him, and his features were plagued with an expression of guilt. "He'd have known his Da…that's tha difference. Alan…I never knew. I had a son and I ne'er even knew 'bout him!"

"Shh." Alan kissed him and he stroked his hair. "Calm down. You don't hold the blame in this, okay? She never let you know. Reaper babies are so rare, too. How could you have known? What's important is that he's safe and happy, right?"

Eric put his arms around him and nodded, sighing. "Tha's one way o' looking at it, I guess. I jus'….feel so damned terrible. I'd have liked tae know. Do ya think there's some way I can do a paternity test wi'out tha lad finding out?"

Alan hugged him back, and he shrugged. Maybe. If you have the right connections in the medical community. You…don't want to tell him?"

Eric shook his head. "No. I'm not ready fer tha'. I jus' figured it out fer m'self, dammit. I cannae handle th' questions an' accusations an'—"

Alan pressed two fingers against his lips, cutting off his tirade. "Hush. You don't have to tell him now…or ever, if you choose. I won't say anything, love. Just take some time to think about how you want to handle it. I'll be at your side, no matter what."

Eric nodded, returning his embrace and lifting him off his feet a little. "I know this is an awful shock, Al. 'M sorry."

The brunet managed a smile. "It's okay. As you said; it happened before we even met. I'm not angry about it. I…I understand how you must feel."

Eric huffed a laugh and gave him a squeeze. "Do ya? 'Cause I dun' even know how tae feel, right now. I jus'…hope that someday when he finds out, Ronnie can forgive me."

"You weren't told," insisted Alan. "How can you possibly be there for a baby you didn't even know you made? Be kinder to yourself."

The Scotsman laughed humorlessly. "Yer no' wrong about tha', but I still feel responsible. Poor kid grew up wi'out any support from me, Al. I jus'…I dunno…feels like I ought tae try an' be involved, now."

"And you will be." Alan pulled back to look up at him. He recalled how he'd thought Ronald's smirk reminded him of Eric, and he could not deny the truth. "I'll help you. We don't have to tell him if you don't want to, but we can still watch over him."

Eric sighed, and he smiled at him. "You've got tae be tha most patient, understanding reaper I've ever met in my life. Thank yeh, Alan, fer being sae kind an' caring."

Alan closed his eyes, breathing in the scent of Eric's cologne. It wasn't an entirely selfless act on his part; he knew that he would only alienate himself from his partner, if he was not supportive of his situation. It hurt him a bit inside to know that Eric had created a new life with some woman; a thing which he could not do even if he was willing to. He and Eric could never make a little baby together. That was the rub of their relationship. He could never give Eric babies, while a female partner at least had the chance of doing so.

"Eric?"

"Hmm?" The Scotsman rocked him gently in his arms.

"Do you…want a family?"

Eric chuckled. "Already have one, sweetheart. Dispatch is mah family now…an' so are ya."

Alan shut his eyes and sighed gratefully. "I love you."

Eric kissed the crown of his head. "An' I love yeh too, Alan. My life wouldnae be complete wi'out ya."

He watched over young Ronald Knox, keeping his interest in the background where the boy would never see it. Eric never got to know the boy's mother very well, and a part of him wanted to confront her and ask why she'd never told him that he'd gotten her pregnant. All was fair in love and war, though. They'd shared a single night of passion, and Ronald was the result. He imagined she didn't want to burden him. Whatever the reason for her secrecy, Ronald was a strong, healthy young reaper…and getting the final results of the paternity test did not deter Eric from getting to know him better.

He befriended Ronald, hanging out with him after work, going to bars, watching him pick up girls. He even played the wing-man for him as Ronald matured, quietly laughing at his antics and giving him what little guidance he could provide. Alan was a much better moral compass than himself, though. Eric went to his lover for advice whenever he got stumped, relying on Alan's innate, patient wisdom to help him guide Ronald through his trials. He watched as Ronald effortlessly seduced girls into his arms, and he never thought much on it until Alan hesitantly offered his opinion one night, several months after Ronald's graduation from the academy.

"He favors men, you know," said Alan as they changed for bed.

Eric paused in the act of pulling up his pajama bottoms. "Who…Ronnie?"

Alan nodded and glanced sidelong at him, buttoning up his pajama top. "I didn't want to say anything because I'd hoped you would figure it out for yourself."

Eric shrugged. "It's his right tae be attracted tae whoever he has a liking for. I'm jus' wondering wha' gave ya th' notion. He flirts a lo' wi' tha girls."

"It's a cover," provided Alan. "He doesn't want others to know where his true interests lie, Eric. The flirtation is a coping mechanism."

Eric grimaced. He'd been very similar himself, but the difference was that he was honestly attracted to both sexes. "Wonder if I ought tae say somethin' tae th' lad."

"I wouldn't advise it," cautioned Alan. "He's at an awkward age, Eric. He's trying to figure out his place in the world. Just let him spread his wings and figure it out, and I'm sure if he needs the help, he'll come to you himself."

Eric sighed and flopped down on the bed. "I dunno how I'd have handled it if I'd even gotten the chance tae help raise him. I'm still a bit resentful of his Ma fer keeping it from me, but I think I'd have made a lousy role-model."

Alan climbed into the bed with him, and he laid his head against the blond's bare chest. He traced patterns on Eric's stomach as he relaxed, quietly wishing that he could offer him more than a few basic life hacks. "You'll be fine, Eric…and so will he. Ronald's a capable young reaper…adaptable. That's very important in our line of work. It isn't your fault that you weren't there for him growing up."

Eric embraced him loosely and he stroked his back. "I wish I could feel as confident in that as ya seem tae be, sweetheart. I want tae tell him tha truth someday, but what good could come of it? He's already go' reason enough tae resent me."

Alan kissed his chest and sighed. "Then don't tell him. It's not pressing that he knows, and you are in a position to keep an eye on him. Maybe sometime in the future the opportunity to speak with him about it will present itself."

Eric smiled and looked down at the brown head nestled against his chest. "Maybe in a few years, aye. Alan? Thanks. I mean, fer bein' so understanding an' all. I was worried ye'd think bad o' me, when I figured it out an' told ya."

Alan lifted his head off Eric's chest, and he smiled at him. "You were younger then, and we hadn't met. I can't hold every romantic encounter you've ever had before me against you…and she never really gave you the chance to be involved in his life."

Eric sighed and stroked his hair. "True, but…well, I cannae really say I wish I'd used protection. She probably didnae know she could conceive any better than I did, an' if I'd used anything, Ronnie might not be here now. He's a good kid."

Alan smiled, relaxing against the bigger reaper. "He is. I'd say you should be proud. It might have been accidental, but you made a fine reaper, in that chance encounter."

Eric chuckled. "I cannae disagree wi' tha'. He's done good fer himself. Maybe I'll start sending him birthday gifts each year, wi'out a return address. Jus' 'till I think it's a good time tae let him know tha truth."

Alan nodded and closed his eyes. "I think that would be nice for both of you. Maybe one day you'll be ready to tell him and when that day comes, I'll be right here."

Eric gave him another squeeze, and he reached out to shut off the light. "Have I told ya I love ya t'day, Alan?"

The brunet chuckled. "Not yet."

"Well, I do." Eric nuzzled his hair affectionately, sighing in the darkness. "I'm grateful tae have yeh as a partner an' a lover."

Alan snuggled him, smiling once more. "I love you too, Eric."

-The End