"May you live to be one hundred and may the last voice you hear be mine." – Frank Sinatra

Age: One Year – November

"Where's the birthday girl?" Rozelle asked, pointing Clyde to a table piled with gifts.

"Here she is," Travis announced following behind Violet, grinning like the proud papa he was.

"Look at her walking," Mrs. Dumont exclaimed. "When did she start that?"

"About a week after Halloween," Dakota explained to the other ladies, beaming like it was her own daughter she was bragging on. "You should have seen these two the morning after when I arrived."

"I a big girl," Violet told anyone who would listen. "I walk now."

"Yes, you do," Wes agreed. "You also climb out of your crib and climb into our bed when we least expect it, don't you."

"Yeah," she acknowledged. "I sure do, mama."

Rozelle slapped a hand over her mouth, but the laughter escaped anyway.

"Still haven't gotten her to stop that yet, have you," Dakota observed.

Wes glared at his daughter as she tottered off after Uncle Peter. "No," he sighed. "And I don't think I ever will."

"Suck it up and learn to live with it," Clyde suggested. "My nephew liked to call me 'Cluck' because he couldn't quite get 'Clyde' out. After a while, you learn to roll with it."

"Noted," Wes said. Although, he figured Cluck was better than being called a girl.

"Truthfully Wes," Dr. Ryan said as the others moved away from the door, "enjoy it as long as you can. You'll only be 'mama' for a very short time. Before long you'll be moooooom." She punctuated her statement with an eye roll.

"Thanks, Dr. Ryan. Just have a hard time with the idea my daughter finds me feminine."

"It's not that at all. You are the one she relates to in respect to nurturing and caregiving, thus making you her mother. Travis, on the other hand…"

They both looked into the living room to see Travis giving airplane rides to the gathered children. "Travis, is the one she looks to for fun. Great."

Dr. Ryan patted Wes on the back. "Just as long as you both stand firm and united when it comes to her discipline, she'll never look to one of you as the 'good parent' and the 'bad parent'."

Presents should be optional at a party for a one year old, Wes thought, eyeing the table piled high with pretty boxes and bags. No child needed that many toys and outfits. Not even one as destructive and messy as his little princess.

Travis had warned him ahead of time not to even try to tell people not to bring gifts – or to only bring one, which had been his secondary plan. He had been informed that people loved first birthdays and that there was no stopping or controlling them either. As much as he hated it, he gave in.

He was kind of glad he had. Never would he have believed that a bunch of people he worked with – Kate, Amy, Jonelle, Kendall and even the captain – and a handful of people he hardly knew – Clyde and Rozelle, the Dumonts, and Dakota and Peter, of course – could be so kind and generous to a child that they had no real ties to. It warmed his heart to know that he wasn't just that jerk detective everyone loved to hate any longer. He was a real man with a kid everyone loved and a boyfriend he couldn't get enough of.

"Anybody want some caaaaaake," Travis called into the room full of their closest friends.

"YES," Kate and Jonelle cried in unison. "JINX!"

"Somebody's on the rag," Kendall snickered to Amy, who nodded.

"We heard that," Kate defended.

"Are you saying it isn't true," Amy teased, knowing her partner a little better than she should.

"Well…" Jonelle deflected. "Maybe we just like cake?"

"Works for me," Wes interrupted, praying to god someone else had that talk with Violet when the time came.

"Cake for the birthday girl," Travis announced, placing a small round cake in front of the plastic shrouded high chair. It had purple flowers – Violets, of course – and baby blue trim decorating the white frosting. Travis had joked about adding little yellow buttercups, but Wes had forbid it. It was bad enough he had to live with the nickname, he didn't need the entire world privy to it.

"And a spare cake for the adults," Wes added from behind, placing the larger cake on the table, out of Violet's reach. "Because Violet sure isn't going to share."

It was a good thing, too. Before the group could get through the second line of "Happy Birthday", Violet had smeared frosting and cake on every possible surface, including herself and Travis, who had been standing nearby. Wes groaned inwardly, itching to reach for a sponge and a bottle of Clorox, but a gentle touch and restraining smile kept him in check.

"She only gets free reign to do this once," Dakota reminded him. "Next year, she'll use a fork."

Wes took a deep, cleansing breath, channeling some of Captain Sutton's inner peace to get through the fiasco that was to come. Bath time was going to be an adventure later.

"Caaaaake," Violet cried happily. "I loves cakes!"

"Apparently she loves wearing it, too," Wes said dismally.

"Remember what I said, Wes. She only gets to do this once."

"While that may be true," Wes commented, covering his eyes as more cake wound up in Violet's hair, "I may never get all the frosting out of her clothes."

"Here baby, have some cake and chill out." Travis grinned slyly as he went back to baby duty. "A little sugar might sweeten that sour disposition of yours."

"Whew, I think that was the last one." Travis entered the kitchen and parked his butt against the sink.

Wes eyed him from the other side, washing the last few dishes. "You could help, you know," he gently scolded. He'd love a little help, but Travis had done so much during the party, including handling a child covered in frosting, he was loath to ask for any now.

"Sure, baby, sure. You want me to dry or should I check on the birthday girl first?" He looked over his shoulder in the direction of the nursery.

He gave a tired smile. "You can go check on her, but trust me she's out like a light. I put her down and she didn't even so much as flutter an eyelid. I think her sugar high finally crashed and burned."

Travis grinned. "Good, maybe we can get a little alone time in later." He hip checked the blonde playfully.

His boyfriend's wicked grin stirred more than his return smile. "We'll see if I can stay awake long enough for anything more than a little alone time with my pillow."

"Aw, my poor wilting buttercup," Travis teased, grabbing a dish towel and starting to dry. "I've noticed you've been more tired than usual, you okay?"

Wes nodded. "Yeah, I think so. It must be the time of year or all the party planning, something's wearing me out. I'll be fine in a few days, I'm sure. Now that we don't have anything until Christmas, maybe I can relax for more than a minute."

"Okay, but if you're not…"

"…I'll go see the doctor," he finished for him, having been down this road with Travis more than once. "I promise."

"Good. You have more than just you to worry about now, you know." He tugged on Wes' belt loop for emphasis.

Wes laughed loudly. "Look around this place, how can I forget? I used to pride myself on being so neat and orderly. Now? Now, I'm happy to find socks that match."

"The good news is, you have help," Travis reminded him.

"Such that it is," Wes retorted, motioning to remind Travis he had to actually pick up the dishes to dry them.

"Yeah, well, I never claimed to be a homemaker." He flipped the dish towel over his shoulder and plopped a hip against the sink, watching Wes wash the last plate. "But I do have other redeeming qualities that make up for my lack of cleaning skills."

"You mind catching up there? We have more to put in order before I can ever comfortably think about sleep."

"Sure," Travis agreed, "but there's one thing I need to catch up on first."

"Oh?" Wes waited, eager to see what excuse Travis was going to use to drag him off to bed, leaving the chores until tomorrow as usual. Not that he planned on putting up much of a fight, but he couldn't just let him have his way, could he? Or could he? "What's that?"

"Nothing much, just something I've been meaning to give you for a while now. Close your eyes."

"No way am I falling for that again," Wes said.

Mirth bubbled out of Travis. "Yanno, baby, it's big, but even I doubt it's big enough to get in your mouth while we're both standing."

"God bless it, Travis that is not what I meant!" Although, he had to admit, he had fallen for that one… a couple times. Maybe once or twice on purpose.

"Trust me for once, okay?" He turned Wes so that his back was against the sink. "Now close those pretty blue peepers for me."

Wes sighed. "Okay. Just no funny stuff."

"Promise."

Travis waited until Wes closed his eyes, relaxing back against the sink. Once he was certain he wasn't peeking, he dropped to a knee and fished Wes' much belated birthday present out of his front pocket. He had taken to carrying it with him wherever they went, always thinking that the right time would present itself and he wanted to be prepared.

He turned the humble band of white gold over in the palm of his hand, wondering again if Wes would appreciate its simplicity. Wes appreciated the simple things in life – fine Scotch, a quiet moment when the baby was asleep, he was relatively certain he'd appreciate this, too. There was only one way to find out.

"I'm going to fall asleep standing if you don't hurry up, Marks," Wes muttered from above him.

"Always taking the romance out of things," he replied, smiling.

"Travis? Why is your voice coming from below me?" Wes' head moved from side to side, listening.

Shit. "Don't you dare open your eyes yet." It's now or never, dumbass, make your move. Travis took a deep breath before taking Wes' hand in his. "I don't think I tell you often enough how much I appreciate you and all you do. I know I don't tell you I love you enough."

"Travis…" Wes began, sounding slightly worried at his lover's tone of voice.

"Nuh-uh, shhh. Let me finish. These past however many months have really opened my eyes. I see now that I can be happy with one person and that commitment isn't a dirty word. And to prove it, I have something for you. I only wish I had done this sooner."

Pushing all self-doubt aside, he slipped the band onto Wes' left hand. The touch of metal to skin resulted in a surprised gasp, followed by the flutter golden eyelashes. Two of the bluest eyes he'd ever known widened in surprise.

"What do you say, baby? Marry me?" He smiled up at the blonde from his place on the floor, waiting.

What do you say? Was he crazy? "Travis I… I don't even know…"

"Oh dear god, just don't say no!" Travis gave a nervous laugh that nearly broke Wes' heart.

"Of course not you idiot, why would I say no? I can't even say yes properly!" He fought the tears he knew were on the brink of falling. Happy or not, he was not going to cry!

Following a whoop of triumph, Travis leapt to his feet, hugging Wes tightly against him. His lips found Wes' on their own, smothering the smaller man with his kisses. "Thank you, Wes, we can really be a family now."

Wes pulled away from Travis' enthusiastic kisses, drawing his boyfriend's attention to him. "Something I've learned from you over the last year is that we already are a family. We don't have to be married for that to happen. For that, I'm more grateful than anyone can ever know. Even so, I'm not going to turn this down. With my luck, you'll change your mind if I do."

"Never, baby. Not on your life."

Travis nipped at Wes' neck, distracting him from the toothbrush currently in his mouth. "Hurry up, I'm not sure how much longer I can keep my hands off you, my darling husband-to-be."

Wes chuckled around a mouthful of Colgate. "Keep your pants on," he joked. "Or not, preferably. I'll be right there."

"I'm counting to ten and if you're not here by then, I'm coming to get you," he threatened.

"Then let's hope I can pee before you get to ten," Wes taunted back.

He closed the bathroom door behind him, intending to do just that, when he was overcome with a very familiar and horribly unwelcome feeling. "Oh god no," he begged as the last thing he'd eaten – chocolate cake and French vanilla ice cream – revolted in his stomach. With the practice gained during the long months of morning sickness, he flipped open the toilet lid with barely a moment to spare, hurling his dessert into the bowl.

A knock sounded on the bathroom door. "Wes? You okay man?"

"Yeah," Wes groaned, wiping his mouth. He opened the bathroom door and faced his now-fiancé. "Mystery solved. I'm tired because I'm pretty sure I'm coming down with something."

Travis made a face. "So I heard. C'mon, come to bed, we can celebrate when you're feeling better." He put an arm around Wes' waist and led him to their bed.

Wes climbed in with Travis right behind him. He leaned back into Travis' warm, strong body and sighed. His eyes fluttered closed, and he slept.