Page 39 of An Enhanced Wedding and other stories

Christopher was fascinating: gentle, yet assertive without saying one word. They talked. Anthony didn’t even bother articulating the words when he was talking to Christopher, except now the last team debacle was over, they’d barely seen each other.

After much persuasion, and only becausetechnicallyChristopher worked for the medical unit and Anthony wasn’ttechnicallyhis boss, he’d agreed to drinks. Or a drink, anyway. They’d both sipped a light beer extremely slowly and Anthony had listened as Christopher told him what it had been like growing up with two utterly fascinating parents and how he missed them. Anthony had been astounded to find out that Christopher had five degrees, including a Master’s in Advanced Physics. Apparently, he received his Associate’s at fifteen.

Anthony had managed to complete his criminal justice degree—without flying colors, but it had been enough. He’d enlisted straight after college and scraped his college degree, and it was only after working as a beat cop when he came out of the service, he’d decided to study part time for a Bachelor’s. His original plan had been to become a lawyer, but that never seemed to be a good fit. Then his dad had died of a sudden heart attack, and he’d met his half-brother for the first time. Kurt worked for the FBI, and the rest, as they say, was history.

“Did you need something, Sir?”

He looked up as Natalie jogged down the stairs. She was clearly leaving, her purse slung over her shoulder and a light jacket in her hand. He hesitated, feeling foolish, He knew she’d seen the envelope he carried. He smiled. “Just had a question for Christopher.” He tried to appear nonchalant.

She nodded. “He’s just finishing up. Don’t let him stay too late,” she scolded and carried on past him.

His heart beat faster, but this time it had nothing to do with climbing the stairs.

They’d met a few times outside of work. Anthony wouldn’t have classed them as dates, exactly. Hell, he didn’t know for sure if Christopher was gay. He himself was Bi, he supposed, taking into account how he felt about him. He’d had a fraught and turbulent marriage for eight years and when Clara had an affair with an insurance agent and left for sunnier climes—well for better underwritten ones anyway—he’d opened the bottle of Booker’s the guys had gifted him when he left to go to Quantico. He’d had to hide it in the garage. According to Clara, drinking led to all sorts of things.

Not sex though. And not kids. He’d always wanted kids, and now he’d missed his chance of kids and grandchildren.

But back to the puzzle that was Christopher. Their second non-date had been amazing, and even led him to tease Christopher. The infamous sexting conversation, as he called it in his head. And it had been. He’d offered to give Christopher a ride to the hospital when Bo had surgery, and they’d even babysat the youngsters together which had been fun, and then nothing.Zilch.

Okay, so he’d been busy in the aftermath of the last case with the new assignments and partnerships, but he could easily have made time.

All that deliberation brought him to the clinic. He felt utterly ridiculous. How old was he? Standing here with a birthday card like some preschooler.

“Is that for me?”

He didn’t even register the voice speaking in his head until he looked up and saw Christopher, coat on, clearly leaving for the night. He thrust it at him and Christopher twinkled. Yes, goddamit, his eyes lit up and the creases in the corners of his eyes deepened. There was almost a flash of silver in them. Anthony relaxed. “Yes.”

Then he realized he’d relaxed, and stiffened before he surrendered the card. “That wasn’t you, was it?” Christopher did this thing. He could ease even the most fractious patient, and without a word, vocally or telepathically.

Christopher shook his head but stepped back, visibly upset at Anthony’s thoughtless comment. Well,crap. “Sorry, I’m making an utter mess of this as usual.” He scraped his hair back, palm meeting skin in quite a few places. What was he even doing? “Sorry.” He turned, letting go of the card.

“I’m babysitting tonight.”

Anthony paused. “On your birthday?” He was astounded.

Christopher shrugged.“I’m celebrating next week. It’s Connie’s birthday tonight and Matthew’s surprising her.”

“But she has sons,” he protested.

Christopher just stared at him.“And I don’t.”

Anthony gazed at Christopher for a long time, too long. But he understood loneliness. It was an old friend.

Christopher smiled.“Wanna come? Monopoly marathon?”

Anthony beamed. “Absolutely.”

He followed Christopher’s neat Prius all the way to Matthew’s and wondered what the captain would think. Matthew’s star was on the rise after being held back for so many years simply because he had an enhanced son. The current deputy-chief was retiring in a few months and he’d heard on the grapevine it might be Matthew’s if he wanted it, as the Major had taken a lot of time off to be with his sick wife. She was thankfully on the mend, but he’d made it clear he wasn’t interested in promotion. Anthony supposed it was Matthew’s if he wanted it, and it would be interesting to see what the team made of it. It had taken them months to get used to calling him Captain and not Lieutenant. Matthew could retire whenever he wanted, technically, so he supposed it might depend on what Connie wanted. It was interesting to watch, especially as he himself had just turned down a promotion.

He wanted to stay where he was. What little family he counted as his could be found sitting around his large conference table. He was immensely proud of his unit. There had been a few agencies watching the enhanced development with interest, but he’d been the one that started the team.

And he liked to think they needed him. Pathetic much? He’d made sure to keep a semi-professional relationship with them. He regularly got invited to things and if he was honest, he ached to go, but he’d always held back, thinking the team would have a better time if their boss wasn’t there.

Until he’d gotten a visit from one Finlay Mayer earlier today.

“We want you to come to Christopher’s birthday next week. He wants you to come.” Anthony had smiled, remembering a scared, exhausted, but defiant young man that had spent 36 hours traveling against all odds just to be an FBI agent. If he’d had a son, he would have wanted him just to be like Finn.

If he’d had a son?

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