"I will be. Next year."
"Yes, and if you keep talking like that, I'll make sure the next sex talk you get is from Mason."
"Dad, no!"
I smiled, both at his outrage and calling me dad. I probably wouldn’t have had the chance if I'd been given a choice, kids hadn't seemed like a good idea for me. Life didn't like plans, though, and I had ended up a dad anyway. Well, I suppose I could have chosen not to be. I was given that choice by Moira, after all. Looking back, there had been no choice as far as I was concerned; I had felt obligated at the time. But now I felt blessed, and surprise, surprise, I wasn't half bad at it.
"Then think hard on that," I told him as I closed the bedroom door.
Micah had been wrong about how long it took us to shower and change, but he hadn't been wrong about his unspoken reasons why it would take us so long. I behaved myself, but Mason could never behave. Not that I wasn't usually weak to his misbehavior, but with my son in the other room, I was able to fend Mason off despite his attempts to grope me and his insistence that Micah wouldn’t hear a thing. The fact that I was probably only able to tell him no because I had just gotten off was not something I was going to admit.
Mason noticed my uniform laid out on the chair next to the bed as we got dressed for the monthly family dinner. That had been Moira's idea, now there were more people in the family, including Micah's baby sister. "Wait, do you work tonight?"
"No, but I have something tomorrow."
"Where at?"
"St Vincent's."
"Ew, a Catholic school?"
"Even Catholic children need help now and again," I told him solemnly, and he snorted.
To the surprise of no one who knew him, it had actually been Micah who suggested I try something focused on helping people, rather than going after criminals. It had been awkward at first, but my captain had been enthusiastic and figured it out. Now I worked partially as a liaison with schools, sometimes to mentor groups, sometimes to talk to kids, and sometimes just to be there. On the days I wasn't, I was one of the officers who showed up with case workers to make sure there was peace when a child had to be removed, and I always made sure there was a box of stuffed animals at hand when I went out on one of those calls.
Turned out, Micah had been right; it fed my need to serve and protect, but it also meant I wasn't dealing with the foul people who did the victimizing. They were still there, of course, but less often, and there were always enough people, especially kids, around to keep me in check. Plus, being a safe place for kids was far more rewarding than cracking open their parents' skulls or chasing down a drug dealer.
I stepped into the living space and raised a brow when I realized Micah hadn't come alone. Thick blond hair, bright blue eyes, and her father's idiotic grin stared at me from Micah's lap as she bounced happily with little happy noises.
"Well, hello there," I said to Lyla, scooping her up and holding her to my side. "And how is my favorite girl?"
She squealed, holding my arm and slapping it a couple of times, making me chuckle. "Good to hear."
I looked down at Micah, who was now sitting cross-legged on the couch, staring at his tablet. Puberty had made its inroads already, and I could smell a growth spurt just around the corner. He was still skinny, but his shoulders had broadened, and I had a feeling he was going to have my build. Thank God he didn't have my temper, but I was probably going to have to teach him a few things about moving around the world gently as a giant among smaller people. Well, after he went through the gangly, clumsy stage like I did, anyway.
"What're you reading this time?" Mason asked as he appeared, grinning at his niece, and she gave a delighted shriek that threatened my hearing. "At least someone around here is honest about being happy to see me."
"Nothing," Micah muttered, flinching when he realized Mason was standing behind him and locking the screen.
Mason and I glanced at one another, his brow going up and mine going down. "Uh...Micah?"
"What?” he asked defensively.
"Dude, please tell me you didn't come into our room and sit on our couch reading smut," Mason asked, and though he was trying to sound stern, I could see his lips quirking at the thought.
"Romance novels," I corrected at Micah's horror, trying to, probably in vain, ease some of the awkwardness. Honestly, I had been waiting for something like that to happen. There were still some people who convinced themselves that preteens could hit puberty, but their interest in sex wouldn't start till the literal teenage years. How quickly we forget what it was like to be that age, and twelve was definitely not too young for sex to start rearing its head. "Not that it's wrong, I mean it's definitely not something you should be reading?—"
"Especially so openly," Mason added, because he was helpful like that.
"But you are too young for shit like that," I finished, glaring at Mason and knowing he would ignore my silent attempts to get him to shut up.
"It wasn't sm… that!" Micah huffed, holding his tablet against his chest. "And, Dad, you should know better than to listen to Mason! God, you're both idiots."
"Hey!" I snapped.
He flushed. “Sorry, but it wasn't that. It's not that. But you also said I should speak the truth."
"I'm not an idiot."
