July became August. The start of August turned into the middle of August, and the summer ended. Portsmouth settled down from its state of frantic festivity as college students said farewell to their vacations and returned pursuing their goals, albeit with a sense of loss and regret. Everyone over the age of 18 asked themselves at least once, if it was worth it all to have grown up; the answers that they came up with were so widely varied that it would have been impossible to categorize them or do any sort of census.

As the students went back to the places where they belonged, the older generation breathed a sigh of relief at the fact that everything would go back to the way it was supposed to be. They had worked long and hard for years and years to be able to have a steady life with no uncertainties, so the wild partying and celebrations of those younger than them tended to make them feel odd and unsettled. Some of them might even feel the distant call from their own youth, trying to bring them back to those thrilling days. Most resisted.

The younger students, those who were still part of the rigorous school systems with very little freedom to choose what courses they took, lamented the loss of their summer even more than their elders. They hadn’t even begun to learn the value of striving towards their goals because many of them didn’t have any yet. All they could do was look at the endless years ahead of them, the loss of their fun. For the next few weeks, school parking lots, buses, and the fronts of yards would echo with daily complaints and years, depending on the age and mental stability of the person doing the grumbling.

Parents breathed sighs of relief as they had less time with their kids to worry about, and other relatives did the same at no longer having to host the rowdier crowd.

For someone like Nathan, he was audience to all of this. He was part of all of it, the joy and fear and trepidation that came with the beginning of another year. This was one of the busiest times for him, starting with open house and all the beginning assemblies in the gym where he had to give speeches about what he expected from the rest of the year.

His schedule was jam-packed every single day, from start to end. He got up and came in earlier, stayed later just so he would have enough time to meet with everyone who wanted to see him. There was no end to the paperwork. Just when he finished one stack and had finally worked the cramps out of his hand, Elaine stopped by with another three. She, too, was overworked, but thriving.

Nathan was thriving, too. It was an interesting mix of complaining and doubt each time he got up in the morning, melting into contented satisfaction as the day went along and he accomplished most of the things that he’d set out to do. It was so incredibly difficult to keep track of everything, to remember everyone’s names or even where he had to be at what particular time—he actually had to refer back to the schedules Elaine printed out for him, instead of just glancing at them once and being done with it.

As difficult as it all was, he wouldn’t have traded this for anything. It was what he was meant to do, leading everyone to the places they needed to be. Even when he accomplished something, his work was never done. It was stages upon stages upon stages of growth and development, sometimes just to figure out something very small and relatively insignificant. That was important. Everything was important to him, because he would be handing these kids off to another school in time, letting them take another step in their lives, and he wanted them to be as prepared as they possibly could be.

The only thing he really didn’t like was that all this work meant he had a lot less time to spend with Simon.

He could tell that many of the teachers were curious about what had happened to their peer. No one ever mentioned him to his face, but he could see it in their eyes that they assumed there had been some sort of scandal or other difficulty. They might not have any idea that their principal had been sleeping with the new teacher. They didn’t need to. You didn’t just hire someone, get them deep in the process of becoming part of the school, and then just never see them again. There had to be a reason for that kind of thing.

The only one who actually approached him about Simon’s absence was Elaine. There was always a sort of separation between teachers and non-teachers, and again between the various types of instructors; Nathan puzzled over this problem since long before he’d become a principal, and he had done the best he could throughout the years to minimize that gap. He hadn’t been entirely successful at it, though he did think that his school had one of the tightest-knit faculties he’d ever seen.

All the same, it didn’t surprise him that Elaine was the one to ask. She was a non-teacher, and he was a not-quite-teacher in the eyes of many. They had a kinship between the two of them.

Elaine approached him in his office one day about a week after the start of school. He was slaving over a stack of papers, signing and signing.

As soon as he heard her distinctive footsteps coming up to his door, he gratefully dropped his pen and looked up.

She didn’t knock, which told him before she even actually entered that something was wrong. “Do you have a moment?”

Nathan stretched out his hand, grimacing as his joints popped loudly. “I’d be glad to take a break from all of this. What’s up?”

She didn’t wait to be invited in, didn’t wait for him to ask her to take a seat. She always did, despite their long years of working together. That, on top of everything else, made him worry.

She came in and sat down across from him, on the other side of the desk. She placed her hands on top of the desk, covering some of the papers he’d been signing. Some of the ink smudged underneath her skin, but Nathan didn’t really care. Signed was signed. It didn’t matter if he got coffee on these damn things, or blood, or if the ink was smudged.

“What happened to Simon?”

He looked at her, not answering, not shrugging. She had her suspicions about him and Simon, suspicions which were correct. Anything he said to her would have to be considered very carefully. He trusted her, but sometimes people could give away information without meaning to, and he just didn’t want to have to deal with that right now.

Elaine knew he liked to consider everything and normally had all the patience in the world for him. Today, she put her foot down. Or rather, her hand. She slapped the top of the stack of papers, offering a brief glimpse of her ink-smudged palm. “Nathan, I swear to God, I don’t have patience for this. I have so many things to do today.”

I’ve never seen you so frazzled. Sometimes I don’t value your help like I should. I’ll change that.

Which was just another thing that he had to make time for.

“I apologize, Elaine,” Nathan said. “I didn’t mean to frustrate you.”

She snorted, a sound that was very much unlike her. She crossed her arms over her chest and frowned at him. “I want to know what happened to Simon. I’ve been silent as long as I could, even when you hired that other man who isn’t half the teacher Simon is.”

He agreed with her on that. The guy was fine, just completely out of Simon’s league.

“I’ve been here with you longest. I know that you trust me the most. You know I wouldn’t tell anyone anything that you don’t want to be common knowledge. So, I deserve to know what happened. Not as principal and front desk lady. As colleagues. As two adults talking to each other. What happened to Simon?”

Nathan considered what she’d said, and then he nodded. “You’re right. Of course you’re right. You always are.”

“So tell me. Then we’ll both know, and I can stop wondering about it.”

“Simon is still in the system. We just decided that it would be best for him to take a temporary leave of absence.”

“Why was that necessary? Everything was going fine. You saw all the work that he did on the gym. It’s never looked so good.”

And it had never acted so good either. Nathan hadn’t even known the faulty bleachers could be fixed. He just assumed that you had to keep pulling them out and pushing them back in until you got lucky and they went up okay. Simon had actually taught him they could be fixed from beneath, and now the damn things worked like a charm.

“You’re right.”

“Then, answer the question.”

“All right.” Nathan held up his hands, then immediately put them back down. “Sorry. Force of habit. Anyway, Simon and I are in a relationship.”

Elaine actually rolled her eyes at him. “No shit. I like to think that I’m a very positive person. A little naïve in the grand scheme of things, like an old woman should be. However, I’m smart enough to have figured out how you broke the door.”

Nathan blushed a little, which made her make a small sound of satisfaction. “Well, it needed to be replaced anyway. It was getting old.”

“Is that your strategy now? Go around and break everything that needs replaced?”

“It wouldn’t be that bad of an idea, actually.”

Elaine gave him a little smile, but he knew that she wasn’t done with him yet. “There’s nothing in Churchland’s employee handbook about relationships between anyone. Parents, teachers. Teachers, principals. Anything goes. Simon didn’t have to leave just because of that.”

“You’re right. It’s more of a personal decision. You see, we’re going to have a baby.”

Elaine opened her mouth and then closed it. She frowned, her eyebrows furrowing. “That’s a very serious step to take after knowing each other for just a few months.”

“You’re right about that, too. Simon and I both believe in sort of an old-school version of courtship.”

“His parents gave you a goat and two cows for him?”

“Not quite. We just don’t think that there has to be a specific sort of time limit on anything. What happens, happens the way it’s meant to. We’re both adults. We’re in charge of our own lives.”

“So, are you going to get married? Are you already living together?”

“No and no, but those things are being planned in the future. The baby comes first. It’s the most important part.”

Nathan wanted to stop there, to leave her with that amount of information and call it even. He knew that wasn’t going to happen. She wasn’t going to be satisfied until she understood absolutely everything.

Which meant that he was going to have to tell her their secret. If anyone would understand, it would have to be Elaine.

“Are you adopting, then? Or is there a surrogate involved? And I still don’t see how that would require Simon to leave the school.”

“Neither,” Nathan said, his voice heavy. He swallowed hard, letting the word hang in the air for a moment. “Simon is…having the baby himself.”

Elaine’s eyes sharpened suddenly, the blue as intense as ice. She seemed to have come to some sort of understanding, though Nathan wasn’t sure how that could be. “I didn’t know that Simon is transgender.”

Ah.

“He isn’t.”

“Then, I don’t understand?”

“Can you keep a secret?”

“Nathan!”

He held up his hands, this time leaving them up between the both of them. He pulled in a very deep breath. “You might want to brace yourself for this. And try to keep an open mind.”

Much to his surprise, Elaine took the news that shapeshifters existed quite well. She didn’t ask any questions while Nathan explained the basics of things to her, though she nodded a lot and often made soft sounds as connections formed in her mind.

“That explains some things,” she said. “He’s going to start to show. He won’t be able to keep up with his job as a PE teacher. And he’s having the baby. And all that difficulty with Derrick Keene in the past. My goodness. You should have told me sooner!”

“We have to be very careful about who we tell,” Nathan admitted. “Although, it’s a relief to finally have told you. It’s a huge weight off my chest.”

“If you need me to help in any way, you can count on me. I like Simon. And, I’m very, very curious about all of this.”

All in all, the whole confrontation went better than he expected, and now he knew he could rely on Elaine for assistance if it was necessary. When he relayed all this information to Simon, the omega was visibly relieved. His support team had gotten just that much bigger.

So time went on. August turned to September. Teachers found their pace again. Students adjusted to their routines and no longer seemed so upset when they stopped to talk to him in the hallway. The flood of concerned parents slowed, and Nathan’s meetings tapered down to a more manageable amount.

Simon started to put on a little bit of weight around the middle as the weeks passed, though it wasn’t enough to really interfere with anything yet. He occasionally complained of tiredness, though his nausea had disappeared. According to their doctor, this was perfectly normal. His body was working overtime to build an entire human being inside him, so of course he was going to be tired.

The two of them spent as much time together as they could, though it was difficult to actually have any time together at all until the very end of September. Most of their time was spent in bed, waking up next to each other in the morning and going to sleep together at night. They occasionally ate dinner together, though Nathan found he had to eat dinner so late to get everything done, that it resulted in Simon eating twice. Simon was always hungry these days however, so that never became a problem. When Nathan started to have more time, two dinners turned into a dinner and dessert.

It wasn’t all just leisure, however. Simon spent a majority of his day reading up on baby development, and planning for all the things that the pup would need. He started to purchase odds and ends here and there, setting them up in Nathan’s home, in the spare guest bedroom. The guest room was a long way from becoming a nursery, and they were a long way from actually living together, but it was a start.

Simon’s mother pitched in with buying baby supplies, and so did Elaine. Nathan stressed to her that it was unnecessary, but she insisted. She kept bringing clothes and toys that she said were leftover from when her nephews and nieces had outgrown them, though it was obvious that every single item was new.

Nathan just gave in. They really did need help with this, and it was nice to know that there were people who cared so much.

There was one thing that resulted directly from the lack of free hours to spend with Simon, a sort of counterintuitive experience: lacking the ability to warm up to each other every single day, they had to jump straight into everything. Conversations started on a whim, as did sex. There could be no fiddling around, no hemming or hawing. What needed to be discussed was discussed, and what needed to be done was accomplished in a pinch. It brought them closer together, stripped away another few layers of the separation between them. Day by day, they became more of an actual couple.

That was what resulted in Nathan looking up at the ceiling one night while waiting to fall asleep, and saying, “We should go on another date.”

Simon glanced over at him from where he was propped up in bed, a little book light clipped to the corner of a volume about parenting. He’d been working steadily at it for days now, by no means a fast reader but a damn determined one.

Nathan took this as a sign that his lover was feeling more confident about the life they were building.

“I’m not sure,” Simon said. “Two dates in what, three months? You don’t think that’s a little excessive?”

Nathan growled at him, keeping his gaze on the ceiling, watching the play of shadows from Simon’s little light. The other wolf had been concerned about the light bothering him; Nathan just reassured him that it didn’t, preferring not to say he liked looking at their shadows together because it sounded a little dorky. “I think it’s the perfect amount.”

“I could stand to get out a little more,” Simon admitted. He sounded almost guilty, and Nathan reached out to pat his leg to reassure him that it was okay. “You’ve just been so busy and you’ve looked so tired. I didn’t want to say anything. I figured you could just enjoy this break without me making more work for you.”

“Well, that’s the thing about a date. It’s not supposed to be work.”

“You get what I mean, you stubborn ass.” Simon’s voice was teasing, lessening the potential sting of his words. “I didn’t want to wear you down when there’s so much more coming up. It’s going to be Halloween soon, and then Thanksgiving, and Christmas…You deserve a break.”

“I want to spend my break with you. I’ll see if we can get a reservation somewhere nice.”

“I’d like that,” Simon murmured.

Nathan was determined to make it happen. If Simon wanted it, Simon would get it.

Through the next couple days, Nathan spent a few minutes at a time researching nice restaurants in the surrounding area. He wanted somewhere that wouldn’t be fancy in a toxic sort of way, where they couldn’t relax.

Eventually, he settled on a restaurant called Viola! in Norfolk, across the river. It seemed to be a bit more relaxed than the other places he looked at, since they specifically advertised “friendly” service and a “hip” atmosphere.

Plus, they only had to go there once. If it sucked, they didn’t have to go back.

He placed the reservation for Saturday, 6:45 p.m.

The only unfortunate thing about making a reservation like that in advance was the fact that now they just had to wait. Somehow, they managed to get through the week. Simon spoke to a real estate agent about selling his house, and Nathan took a private trip to a jewelry store.

At long last, Saturday arrived.

Simon stayed over the night before, bringing his vest and dress slacks with him so they could just go straight to dinner when the time came. Nathan watched him get dressed, admiring his figure with warmth stirring around inside his groin. Even several months pregnant, Simon looked better than anyone else he had ever seen. His features had softened in a subtle sort of way, his skin growing softer and a bit more elastic without losing any muscle definition. He looked almost as if he had matured in a way, like a fine wine that was finally ready to be tasted.

Simon glanced over his shoulder while fastening his belt. “What are you looking at?”

“Dessert,” Nathan replied. He eyed Simon’s ass, wishing the slacks were a little tighter so he could see those peachy curves even better.

Simon smiled slightly. “I don’t know about you, but my dessert is going to be the chocolate mousse.”

“I’m trying to flirt with you,” Nathan laughed. He stood up and went over to Simon, fiddling with his bow tie under the guise of straightening it. In reality, he just wanted to get closer to the wolf who would, by the end of tonight, be his fiancé.

Hopefully.

“And I’m telling you that if you want sex, I’d better get some chocolate mousse.” Simon swatted his hands away. “Go put on your own tie. Mine is fine.”

Having had his ruse discovered, Nathan backed away and went to fetch his own tie. He folded it into perfect form around his neck, then glanced at himself in the mirror.

Simon reached up from behind him and pushed at his hair, dislodging some of the strands. Nathan didn’t mind. In fact, he would have actively encouraged this behavior if he had known how to communicate what he wanted. To have Simon grow so comfortable around him as to poke at him and tease him, it was one of the best feelings in the world. Nathan hadn’t ever had anyone who was so relaxed around him, since everyone tended to treat him like a police officer: with respect and distance, censoring everything they did and said for fear of crossing him.

He knew what all these feelings were, individually. Together, they all added up to something with a very specific name. He would give voice to those feelings tonight, letting free what he had been keeping inside for weeks.

“Quit admiring yourself, and let’s get this show on the road. I’m hungry.”

“You’re always hungry,” Nathan replied fondly. He turned and reached into his pocket, then held out his car keys to Simon. “Go get the Malibu started up. I want to check that everything’s all locked up.”

He knew he didn’t have the biggest or most expensive house in the world, and this was a very safe neighborhood with its own organized watch; all the same, it didn’t do to be careless.

Simon nodded, understanding. “Don’t be surprised if you come out and I’ve already left you behind.” He took the keys and walked off, twirling them around his finger and whistling.

“The reservation’s in my name!” Nathan called after him. “Enjoy your dinner alone.”

Simon called something in response, though his voice was too muffled for even Nathan to understand. The other wolf was already outside, shutting the door behind him as he went out front to the car.

Nathan waited in the bedroom for a few moments, his heart starting to pound. When he was certain that Simon wasn’t about to come back inside for something he’d forgotten, thereby catching him in the act, he dashed over to the nightstand on his side of the bed and yanked open the top drawer. He pulled out a box, which was stuffed to brimming with business cards; he had a habit of collecting them whether he needed them or not.

It wasn’t the cards he wanted, but what he had hidden beneath them.

Dumping the cards out on the bed, Nathan grabbed up a smaller, nondescript box and opened it up to reveal a velvety little jewelry box. He tucked that in his pocket, then checked to make sure it wouldn’t make a noticeable lump that Simon would notice.

Once that was done, he did what he said he would do and went around the house to check that all the doors and windows were locked. They were, as he had known they would be.

He pulled the front door shut behind him and went around to the car where Simon was waiting for him. The doors were all locked, and he had to beg to be allowed inside before Simon would allow him to enter.

Climbing behind the wheel, Nathan glanced over at his companion. “You’d better get that out of your system before the weather starts getting even colder.”

Though summer was reluctant to give in to the coming fall, it was still happening slowly but surely. The nights were muted with a faint chill that gathered strength with every passing day.

“What’ll you do if I don’t?”

Nathan backed out of the driveway, pausing before he shifted into drive just in case there was anything he’d forgotten. He looked over at his house. It really didn’t look like much on the outside, he realized. It was just a one-story house with a basement. Despite the fact that it was pretty big—being a principal wasn’t exactly the worst way to live—there just wasn’t much about it was that was special.

Maybe that would change soon. Simon would be living with him. The guest room would be converted into a nursery. They would have their baby. The house would finally be something he could be proud of, because right now, wealth and money meant nothing to him. He wanted that to change. He wanted to look at what he had and know it was being put to good use.

“You look like you’re thinking really hard about something,” Simon said.

Nathan felt his lover’s eyes on him, searching and searching. He tried to slow down his heartbeat, to keep his nervous excitement from showing. “I am. But it’s not important right now.”

Simon made a disbelieving sound but let the subject drop.

The sun was sinking slowly down towards the horizon, casting warm rays of gold and red across the city. Silver skyscrapers seemed ablaze in a wash of fire, the Elizabeth River reflecting what appeared to be a chaotic, apocalyptic scene. All of it was beautiful. A man couldn’t have asked for a more romantic setting for a fancy date night dinner.

All the same, Nathan felt long, spindly fingers of dread scratching their way down his spine. He wasn’t the kind of person who necessarily believed in bad omens, yet he couldn’t deny there was something unsettling about this.

It looks like melted rubies. Like passion, he thought, trying to make himself have a different opinion of the sunset. He just wasn’t able to do it.

“It’s like the river’s full of blood,” Simon said.

Nathan glanced over at him, flexing his fingers on the steering wheel in an effort to keep them from tightening any further. “Do you feel it, too?”

Simon glanced at him and raised one eyebrow. “Feel what? I just thought it was kind of cool. I don’t often come out in this direction at this time of day. Night, I mean.” He shook his head and then laughed a little. “Sorry. Pregnancy brain.”

“Maybe I’m also having pregnancy brain,” Nathan mused.

“That’s actually a thing,” Simon piped up. He sounded excited to be able to share something he had learned through all of his reading. “It’s kind of hard to explain but it’s mostly about hormones and subconscious sympathy. It’s your body responding to what’s happening with me.”

“Really?” Nathan had read something similar, though he wasn’t exactly studying up on the subject like Simon could. Perhaps he needed to. Or, he could take this opportunity to get his mind off the dread lingering in the back of his mind. “Tell me more about it.”

By the time they arrived at Viola! just in time for their reservation, Nathan had mostly managed to forget that strange omen he’d seen in the water and the sky. Animals had different ways of sensing things, especially shifters, but that didn’t mean he had to believe that every odd feeling that came his way was something significant. Maybe a wolf somewhere has in trouble and he had picked up on that. Hell, if it was an omen, it might not even be meant for him.

Best just to forget it and enjoy his romantic dinner.

The Viola! building itself was absolutely beautiful, composed of dark blue bricks with bright gold trim around the windows and doorways. The walls were designed like castle ramparts, elegant and stately.

Simon paused in what he was saying and looked at the restaurant. He let out a low whistle. “Wow. Are you sure that we belong in a place like that?”

“Look at that,” Nathan pointed, gesturing over the steering wheel at the street in front of the restaurant. Most of the cars were pretty average, all except for one truck that was covered in gigantic blooms of rust and dents. Half of the front bumper was missing, and both headlights were surrounded with thick swathes of duct tape that was evidently holding them in position. “If whoever drove that was allowed inside, I think we’re good.”

“Hmm.” Simon pursed his lips playfully, then shrugged. “I hope you’re right. It’d be kind of embarrassing to be turned away and have to go have a romantic dinner at McDonalds.”

“That won’t happen.” Nathan drove to the end of the street and then performed what was probably a very-illegal U-turn so he could work his way back around and parallel park in front of the restaurant. It took a few tries, inching forward and backing up again in increments, but eventually he managed to wiggle his way into the spot.

Leaning over so that he could peek out the window, Simon said, “I guess it’ll do. Better than anything I would’ve ever done.”

“That clunky van of yours wasn’t made for finesse. Hold on.” Nathan got out of the car and came around to the sidewalk so that he could hold Simon’s door open for him. Then, he offered his arm out. “Shall we?”

Simon laughed a little. “Okay.” They linked arms and walked around the side of Viola! with their faces gently warmed by the soft light spilling out through the big windows. A few other diners sat inside at tables, talking and laughing and drinking. Their mouths moved but no sound emerged that Nathan could hear, not even with his powerful sense of hearing. The disconnect was especially odd for a wolf, once more summoning a shadow of that dread which he had felt earlier. It was like an errant wind had sent ash his way, despite being far from the fire.

The illusion faded as soon as they reached the gilded front of the building. An employee from within emerged to hold the door open for them. Nathan nodded to the man, who smiled back as if they had been friends for years.

The hostess inside greeted them with an even bigger smile, which was what really drove home the whole notion of friendly staff. Plenty of high-end restaurants had professional workers, though that didn’t always equal a good atmosphere if the employees were stiff-faced and passive. It gave the feeling of apathy, as if they didn’t actually care whether or not you had a good night at their place of business.

“Welcome to Viola!” Spreading out her hands as she spoke, providing a fanciful gesture that went along with the name of the restaurant, the hostess somehow managed to avoid sounding and looking ridiculous. The motion was somehow natural, as if she was always so expressive in her daily life. “Isn’t it such a beautiful night? Do you two have reservations?”

Nathan had already looked around the interior of the restaurant, taking in everything there was to see in only a glance. The hostess wore a red dress, and that red was an echoed theme around the rest of the space that he could see. French art covered the dark walls, illuminated by chic double-layered chandeliers with dozens of little lightbulbs. The tables and chairs were all shades of crimson, with the elegant curves that furniture in France was known for.

The atmosphere was exactly as advertised, dim and peaceful and comfortable. He could hear the low murmur of the other diners speaking, the occasional click of silverware against the surface of plates. And it was a low murmur, an occasional clink, because the space wasn’t well-populated at all. He had to question the need for reservations if there was so much space, unless this was exactly what they wanted.

“Yes,” he said. “Two for Pepper at 6:45.”

She didn’t even bother checking whatever list or schedule she might have on her podium. “Of course, sir. If you’ll please follow me?”

They followed the bright shape of her dress as she led them through Viola!, past all the other diners and to a secluded little corner. Pleased, Nathan made a mental note to mention this whenever he gave the restaurant a review. He had specifically requested they be as far away from the other patrons as possible, and they had certainly come through with that for him.

Once they were seated, the hostess offered them two slender, shimmering menus. “Your server will be along shortly. I hope the two of you very much enjoy your evening, and if you need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Thank you,” Nathan said.

The hostess smiled broadly at them, as if his thanks actually meant quite a lot to her on a personal level. She left, a beacon of red in the fashionable darkness, and then she turned the corner and was gone.

Nathan looked across the table at Simon, who was browsing through the tiny menu. “What do you think so far?”

“It’s about what I expected.” Simon shrugged. Nathan’s heart sank a little. He’d been hoping for a more favorable reaction. “I feel kind of like a fish out of water. I’ve never been in a place like this before.”

“Never?”

“I’ve been to some teacher’s luncheons before but those have always been at some rent-a-hall with catering. Nothing like this. It actually makes me feel a little nervous.”

Nathan’s heart gave a tweak inside his chest, sympathy flooding through him. “A big guy like you, nervous? That doesn’t seem right.”

“I can scream in the face of a referee with the best of them, but this just isn’t a situation I’m used to.”

That’s true.

“Well, try not to be nervous. These people won’t really remember you after you’re gone, no matter how friendly they might seem. You’re just another face out of a thousand that they see every week. And it’s not like you’re having tea with the Queen. There’s not a whole lot of faux pas to worry about.”

“The Queen doesn’t have anything to do with France, Nathan. You’re mixing your metaphors. I’m not even an English teacher and even I know that.”

Nathan narrowed his eyes while looking at the wolf sitting across from him. It was difficult to glare, even in a playful manner, because of how simply handsome Simon was tonight. The gentle light caught so gently along the lines of his facial structure, making him seem almost like an artwork himself. “You get what I mean,” he growled.

Just then, footsteps approached and a waiter emerged from the darkness. He was a young, handsome man in a crisp long-sleeved red shirt and black vest, with a crooked bow tie he occasionally fiddled with as he talked. He bowed at the waist, then came up again beaming. “Good evening, gentlemen. Did you see that sunset earlier?”

“We did,” Simon replied, cutting Nathan off as he opened his mouth to speak. He blinked a little with surprise because he hadn’t expected Simon to be so ready to conquer his nervousness; maybe he felt that he had something to prove. Even if that was the case, Nathan felt his sympathy warm into pride. “We came across the river.”

“That must have been beautiful,” the young waiter exclaimed. “I happen to live here in Norfolk, so I don’t often get to cross the water so late in the day. My name is Pascal, gentlemen, and I will be your server for the night. Would you like to start off with drinks? Perhaps a fine burgundy? Or, we have quite the selection of handcrafted cocktails. And of course, if you have any cocktail of your own that you would prefer, our kitchen is equipped for just about anything.”

Nathan mused for a moment, then glanced down at the menu. He wasn’t a fan of wine. It always tasted like he was drinking straight olive oil disguised under various names. A cocktail was more his style, although he didn’t regularly consume those either. Getting drunk, or even buzzed, made it hard to catch his stride again come the following morning. Working the job that he did, didn’t really allow for such liberties.

“I’ll have the Dogwood,” he said, naming the one that caught his attention first. It was also one of the few he could properly pronounce. Despite what he’d told Simon, he didn’t want to make a fool of himself. He didn’t want to become a kitchen tale, where the waiters laughed forever about that one guy who didn’t know how to pronounce L’Oie Noir.

“Very good, sir. One of my favorites.”

Pascal didn’t look old enough to drink, but maybe that was his lack of a beard or moustache.

“And for you, sir?”

Simon hesitated, then said, “I’ll just have water.”

“Would you perhaps like sparkling water? We have a variety of flavors.” Pascal immediately launched into a long, rattling list of various flavors of water, to the point where Nathan had to wonder if the man was repeating a few.

Eventually, Simon picked grapefruit, and Pascal wandered away to get their drinks while giving them a further chance to look at the menu.

Nathan was about to suggest that they look at the appetizers, but the pondering look on Simon’s face stopped him. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

“Do you think his name is actually Pascal? That he’s actually French?”

Nathan laughed a little. “That’s not exactly very important to the experience tonight, is it?”

“I was just curious. You know how in Mexican restaurants, it’s usually all Latino and Latina servers. I just wondered if it was the same here.”

“You could ask him,” Nathan suggested.

“I think that would be a little rude. I guess I’ll just have to take him at his word.”

They looked at the menu together, musing back and forth about the entrees on offer. Their conversation was light and mostly unimportant.

Nathan didn’t feel very light, despite the fact that Simon made him smile with nearly everything he said. The weight of the jewelry box in his pocket seemed to be trying to drag him down through the chair, through the floor and eventually the crust of the earth itself. The anticipation was killing him, and he just wanted to get it over with, to know truly and fully that their future together was cemented in place.

All the same, he knew he couldn’t rush this. This moment was so incredibly important that it had to come at the very best time. He would need to wait, to continue to pretend to be absolutely calm and relaxed even though he was so pent-up and nervous on the inside that it was a wonder he didn’t just implode.

When Pascal returned with their drinks, Nathan ordered an appetizer of mussels and ordered the sea scallops and sweet pea risotto for his dinner. Simon chose the chicken and pasta, with mushroom cream sauce.

Pascal thoroughly approved of all of their choices, exclaiming how each one was his favorite, or a specialty of the chef tonight. He left and returned only a few minutes later with the mussels, which came with triangular slices of pita bread.

Their conversation abated momentarily as they ate. Nathan was hungry but he held back a little, letting Simon have his fill. Really, this was Simon’s night. It was his first experience with this, his first adventure into this sort of atmosphere. If he liked it, Nathan would ensure there was a lot more of it in the future.

And if Simon hated it, well, there was always McDonalds.

“What are you smiling about?”

Nathan looked up to find his partner’s eyes glued to him, questioning and warm. Grabbing his cocktail, he took a deep gulp and hoped for some of that liquid courage everyone was always going on about. All he felt was a burn that went down his throat and exploded in his stomach before abating, leaving him feeling no different than before. Ah, well. It had been worth a short.

“I was just hoping that you were enjoying yourself.”

Simon glanced over at the platter of mussels, melted parmesan cheese on top slowly congealing into delicious, fatty clumps. “I don’t know if it’s because I’m hungry or because the food is good, but I think I am. I don’t even normally like seafood.”

“Well, there’s plenty. So, eat up.”

Simon didn’t have any qualms about obeying that command. By the time their dinner arrived, he had nearly finished off the last of the mussels on his own.

They ate their dinners leisurely, feeding each other little bites. Pascal kept dropping by to ask if they needed anything else, to share with them his wishes that they were enjoying themselves. However, his visits started to taper off so that he was bothering them less and less, and Nathan knew that the waiter was following yet another of the requests he had made when making his reservation. He didn’t want to be in the middle of his very important task tonight, only to be interrupted in an incredibly unromantic way by a waiter taking their dirty plates away.

Simon didn’t seem to notice that anything was amiss. He wore the dreamy, sleepy expression of a satisfied wolf, one who would like nothing more than to nap for a few hours. The atmosphere had lulled him finally into a state of calm and acceptance, allowing him to really enjoy himself. They were just at any other restaurant, any other place in the entire world, spending time together without worries or judgment.

Nathan wished he could be feeling the same way. The more time that passed, the more pent-up and nervous he felt. Everything seemed to be a little too sharp, too potent, realer than real. Maybe it was the alcohol in his system, though he’d called it off after only two cocktails and had long since switched to drinking plain water. It felt like he was buzzing, vibrating. The dread from before resurfaced with a vengeance, summoned by his mood, and he could do nothing to rid himself of it.

I need to just do it. I need to get it over with. Before he starts noticing. I’ll hate myself if I fuck this up.

He reached for his pocket so many times that Simon actually asked him if he was playing with himself under the table. After that, he tried to be more discrete, but that also meant he had fewer opportunities to go after the little jewelry box. That should have worked in his favor. He should have been able to psyche himself up for it, snatch the thing out, and get to business like a pro.

The opposite actually happened. Left to think and think and think about that jewelry box, he started to worry himself out of his mind. Now he wasn’t the only thing buzzing. The entire world seemed to be pulsating around him, reverberating with empathy for his emotional conflict. He wanted to do this so badly. He needed to do this. He had everything set up perfectly. This was his chance. He wouldn’t get another opportunity quite like this.

But he was paralyzed by his own desire, and it was going to tear him to pieces if he didn’t do it soon. Of course, that added more pressure on himself, which only continued to add to his dilemma. He had become a self-fulfilling prophecy, a vicious cycle of anxiety and more anxiety.

Pascal came to take away their dinner dishes, and Nathan winced on the inside as he mentally ticked off all the chances he’d lost so far. They had crossed over the hump and were on the downward slope, and now he had very little time left to do what he so desperately needed to do.

Pascal lingered. “How do you gentlemen feel about dessert?”

“I specifically came here with him just for the dessert,” Simon replied.

Laughing softly, Pascal nodded with appreciation. “That’s always my favorite part of any meal. Does it show?” He patted his firm stomach with one hand, yet another gesture that would have seemed overdone and trite, if the man hadn’t already proven himself to be so friendly and enthusiastic.

Simon glanced appreciatively at the young waiter’s firm stomach, which made Nathan burn slightly with jealousy. Of course, he didn’t really have anything to be envious—especially if he actually managed to get that damn box out of his pocket—but maybe that was just a product of the roiling brew of emotions stewing inside him.

The way to fix that is to do what I came here for, to get his attention on me. Goddammit, Nathan. You’re 40 years old. Just get your ass in gear and do it before you die of old age.

“Tonight, we have three luxurious dessert choices for you,” Pascal said. “We have a beautiful crème brulee, completely made from scratch. We even make our own caramel. We also have a light, refreshing lemon sorbet, which I recommend for you, sir.” Pascal nodded towards Nathan. “It would be such a perfect pair with your scallop dinner. And lastly, but certainly not least, we also have a chocolate mousse. It’s creamy and delectable, but, I should warn you, also very rich.”

Rich.

Nathan froze. His breath stopped. Everything inside him completely jerked to a halt, like he had been in a car wreck and his head had snapped back. He could almost feel his joints creaking, popping, crackling with astonishment.

Rich.

Richard. Richard Cox.

The man that had supposedly sent Tobias Noble after Simon. The man Nathan had said he was going to look into. And hadn’t.

For months. He had forgotten for months, swept up in all his other duties that came with starting up the school year. There was no telling what that bastard had been up to through all of this time, no telling where he was. Simon could have been hurt at any point during these long weeks and it would have been all Nathan’s fault.

“Are you okay, sir?”

Pascal’s voice was very distant, as if he was calling from the end of a tunnel. Except, it wasn’t a tunnel. It was a hole, and Nathan was at the very bottom, in the dark, with soil and grit constantly sprinkling down on top of him. If he made the wrong move right now, the darkness would crash down on top of him and bury him.

“Nathan!”

That was Simon, sounding equally far away.

Then, there was a touch on one of his hands, which was knotted in the tablecloth. He looked at his fist, wondering when exactly he’d made it. Broad, gentle fingertips stroked over his knuckles, trying to catch his attention.

“Nathan.”

Nathan blinked, looking closer at his fist. It felt like he had been having an out-of-body experience but was now slowly returning to himself. Sensations filtered back in and he tried to focus on them, particularly the warmth of Simon’s hand on his. “Sorry,” he said. His voice croaked, and he cleared his throat, then winced as it occurred to him that was a rude thing to do at the dinner table. Judging from the way Pascal and Simon were looking at him, they didn’t much care about such mistakes at a time like this.

“Sorry,” he tried again. “I just thought about something. Zoned out a little.”

“I’ll…” Pascal stammered a little, then managed to find his stride again, though his enthusiasm was muted. “I’ll get you that sorbet, shall I? It’s very refreshing. I’m sure it’ll help clear your mind. Good food can do that, you know.”

“And I’ll have the mousse,” Simon said, looking suspiciously in Nathan’s direction.

“Very good.” Pascal left them alone, though he didn’t serenely drift away; this time, he was practically running.

Simon placed both of his hands on Nathan’s. It felt good to be held, even if it was just a relatively small part of himself, and Nathan leaned towards his companion for the comfort provided. “What the hell was that?” The roughness of his tone contrasted with the sharp edge of his words. “What happened, Nate?”

“It just occurred to me that I completely forgot to check up on Richard Cox.”

Simon’s shoulders suddenly went limp and relaxed. He leaned back and heaved an enormous sigh of relief. “Thank God, that’s all. I thought you were having a stroke or something. I got scared for a moment that I was going to have to raise this baby on my own.”

Nathan straightened up a little. “Never. I’m sorry that I scared you. It won’t happen again.”

“Do you really think that whole thing is so important?” Simon asked. “It’s just one stupid guy who probably steals shit for fun. It’s not like he’s going to be some sort of criminal mastermind. He sent Toby after me because Toby had a vague connection to me. How many other former students of mine do you think it’s plausible for him to know? Because I’d have to call that kind of reasoning a stretch.”

“All the same.”

Nathan stopped as Pascal returned with their desserts. He made an effort to sound normal when he thanked the other man, and Pascal managed to smile in return. Some of the peaceful symmetry of before was returning, however gradually.

Picking up his spoon, Nathan poked at his lemon sorbet. He twirled the spoon around in the dish, disturbing the perfect yellow circle. “All the same, I just remembered about him and it occurred to me that I meant to look into him and I never did. I panicked for a moment. It occurred to me that my neglect could possibly have put you in danger.”

“Nate,” Simon said. His voice was blurry as he spoke around a mouthful of thick mousse. He swallowed thickly, then tried again. “The past is in the past. Nothing’s happened. I’m okay and so are you. You didn’t neglect anything, and you can still look into him later on.”

“You’re right.” Pulling in a deep breath, Nathan tried to calm himself down. “Of course you’re right. You always are.”

“You should say that more often. I really like it.” Simon smiled at him, then scooped up more of his dessert.

Nathan looked down at his sorbet, which was melting from his spoon and dripping back into the dish. He put the spoon in his mouth and let the sweet, almost-overwhelming tang of lemons pull him right back into reality. It was refreshing. Pascal had been absolutely right about that. Whether or not this level of flavor could be considered light was another story.

“I also like it when we have fun like this.” Simon looked at him with his serene green eyes, a gentle smile on his lips. There was a smudge of chocolate at the corner of his mouth and Nathan marked its position for later, so he could kiss it away. “You’re not as much of an old fuddy-duddy as you first seem.”

“I think I owe that to you.” Nathan gazed intently into the eyes of his companion, not looking away. “You’ve helped me to loosen up through the time I’ve known you. There’s never anyone that I’ve actually been able to just talk to before. It’s always had to be ‘communication.’ Never just regular talk. Never just for fun.”

Simon smiled more, until it stretched nearly ear from ear. He seemed to almost be glowing from joy. “The truth is, I think what we found is better than anything we really ever could have hoped for.” There was a strange sort of certainty in Simon’s voice when he spoke, as if he knew more than he was letting on. Nathan thought back to their conversation on how there was something Simon needed to tell him, but couldn’t figure out exactly how to do so. Could the two things be related?

“I feel like I can relax, too. Maybe it’s because of the baby and me having to depend on you a whole lot more. I think it started to happen before that, though.”

“You should do more of that, too.”

Simon nodded, but he looked less certain about that notion. “I just wish there was more I could do for you.”

This is it. This is my moment.

There was no possible way that there was going to be a better opportunity for this.

Nathan reached for his pocket and wrapped his fingers around the jewelry box. All the tempestuousness nervousness which had tortured him before had finally blown over, to be replaced by warm certainty. “You do plenty for me,” Nathan said. He pulled the box from his pocket, but kept it under the table for another few moments. There were so many words inside him, so many things that he wanted to say. Humans couldn’t express themselves like animals could, trading nuance for language; he would have to hope that whatever was lost in translation, the wolf inside Simon would be able to pick up on it.

“Simon, you make me happy. I was content before, proud and fulfilled, but now I’m happy in a way I didn’t think I would ever be. I didn’t ever really consider that I would have a relationship like this. I didn’t know I wanted it. I didn’t know I wanted a mate. I didn’t know I wanted a pup. It just all falls into place with you. That’s why I…I love you.”

Simon blinked suddenly, and then his eyes brightened a shade as tears brimmed up. “I’ve been feeling it grow for a long time. I love you, too.”

Nathan closed his eyes as relief and love flooded through his entire body. Everything inside him was so warm right now, so filled with all the emotions that words could never hope to express in a thousand years.

He started to lift up the jewelry box, and that was when the hostess appeared at their table. She surged up through the darkness like a harbinger of death, a blood-colored silhouette.

The image of the gory sky, the bleeding Elizabeth River, flashed through Nathan’s mind. He flinched before he even really registered what was happening. His fingers fumbled with the jewelry box, his body flinching like he’d missed the last step on a staircase. After an unnerving moment, he managed to shove the box back into his pocket.

“I’m so sorry to interrupt!” she exclaimed, out of breath. “But there’s someone breaking into a car outside, and I’ve already spoken to everyone else. It has to be yours! A light blue…”

Romance was suddenly the last thing on Nathan’s mind. A chill stole through him, chasing all the warmth away.

He knew.

This was it. The consequence of his forgetfulness.

Shoving his hands against the table, Nathan stood up so quickly that he knocked over his chair.

“Nate, stop!” Simon stood up a little slower, having to account for the weight of his stomach. If it hadn’t been for his stomach, he might have actually gotten up in time to grab Nathan by the wrist, to stop him from doing what he was about to do.

As it was, he just barely missed. His fingers scraped through the air so close to Nathan’s arm that it stirred through his hair.

“Sir, wait!” That was the hostess, speaking almost at the same time as Simon. “It’s much too risky to go out there! We’ve called the police…”

If he had been thinking straight, he would have taken a step back and realized that the police would be better able to handle this than he was. He was one man whose only weapon was the ability to turn into a wolf, which probably wasn’t going to be a solid tactic when there was a gigantic window along that side of the street. Every single person in Viola! who was curious about all the ruckus could push up against that window and see a wolf-man attacking what might appear to be an innocent bystander.

Meanwhile, the police would come in numbers. There would be at least a pair of officers in one patrol car, and more cops might arrive than that if they felt the situation warranted it. Each cop would have a baton, a gun, maybe pepper spray or a Taser.

He should have left it to them, and he would have done so if Simon had managed to catch onto him.

But Simon missed, and Nathan sprinted away from him, away from the hostess. Red rage covered his gaze as he ran, making the restaurant seem as if it had been the scene of a battle. He shoved his way past the other patrons, knocking over another couple of chairs during his mad dash for the front door. Waiters leapt out of his way, spilling drinks, and dropping plates on the floor.

It wasn’t so much the fact that his car was being broken into that made him so angry. Cars could be replaced. Windshields and windows could be repaired. Paint could be reapplied. That was the way all machines worked, in the name of convenience. When something was broken on a machine, even a wheeled one, there was always a way to repair it or to get a new one.

But, a price couldn’t be placed on memories. No amount of money would buy back the time Nathan had wasted up until this moment, nervously awaiting this perfect chance. You couldn’t buy another special night like this, because it was the only one.

That pissed him off. And it pissed him off because he knew the person attacking his car was Richard Cox. It had to be. There was no one else who would do this. No thief would attempt something so noisy and noticeable right next to a restaurant.

And it just plain infuriated him that this bastard hadn’t given up on whatever stupid vendetta he had against Simon, or teachers in general. It was fucking stupid, a child’s grudge.

No, it was dumber than that, because at least children could learn from their mistakes.

Bursting out through the front of the building, Nathan raced as fast as he could around the corner and in the direction he’d left his car. He was almost out of breath before he even got there, as wolves—and alphas especially—were meant for endurance and not speed. His arms pumped in time with his legs, while his heart seemed to be beating at least twice as fast as that.

The moment he came within sight of the street, he saw the culprit. It was a photograph of a moment, eternally frozen in his memory, like a flash of light marking his retinas. The man who could only be Richard Cox was middle-aged and balding, though he’d had the rest of his head shaved in an attempt to hide this fact; the shave had been some time ago, so now random tufts and bristles of hair protruded from his scalp. His facial hair was similarly uneven and patchy, making him look very much like any disheveled man you might see in an example of a mugshot. His eyes were hazy, glazed with light shining through the restaurant window. The skin around the sockets was puffy, as if he’d been drinking, or not sleeping well, or perhaps both.

Cox was a scrawny man, a thin and rat-like man, not at all what Nathan had been expecting. He thought he would be dealing with another young jerk, like Tobias Noble, not someone almost his age.

Scrawny or not, Cox had more than enough strength to lift a baseball bat up over his head and bring it down hard on the windshield of Nathan’s Malibu. Spiderwebs of cracks already covered the glass, and this additional blow finally broke through the crystalline surface. A distinctive shattering sound burst through the air, followed by a tinkling as shards of glass scattered across the concrete. Similar glimmers already coated the ground, making Nathan realize two of his other windows had already been bashed in.

This had nothing to do with breaking into the car. If that was what Cox had wanted, he would have already reached in, unlocked a door, grabbed anything he thought might be valuable, and then he would have run off into the night long before Nathan ever got word that something had happened to his pricey, little vehicle. This was something personal, an act of revenge, though Nathan was certain that he had never done anything to this man in his entire life.

“Hey!” Nathan barked. He marched forward, striding right up to Cox. His thoughts, his senses, were racing so fast that the entire world around him seemed to be moving in slow motion.

Cox lifted up the bat again and grinned savagely. His teeth were bloody for some reason. He had probably bit his tongue when the force of the bat striking glass and metal made his body jump and shake around. For every action, there was an equal and opposite reaction; if a man hit a car with a baseball bat, the car hit back in its own sort of way.

“I been waiting a long time to deal with you, fucker,” Cox said. He shifted his hands on the bat, adjusting his grip.

Nathan lunged forward, grabbed the bat in the instant that Cox loosened his grip on the weapon and yanked it away. Holding onto the length of it with a hand on either side, he snapped it in half over his knee and then tossed the broken pieces into the street. Large splinters studded his skin now, not that he really cared. The pain meant nothing compared to his anger.

“What is your problem with me?” Nathan growled. He lowered his head, the wolf inside him flattening its ears and opening its jaws wide in an invisible threat. Cox might not have known exactly what was going on inside Nathan, but he did seem to understand that he was in danger. He took a step backwards, his eyes flicking over to the shards of his bat before bouncing back to Nathan.

“I haven’t done anything to you. You’re a deadbeat lowlife who attacked a defenseless old woman, and then got punished for it. By someone who wasn’t me. I don’t understand you.”

Once a principal, always a principal. Even furious, Nathan wanted to understand the motive involved here.

Cox flashed another of those bloody smiles, and it was as if he held a sunset inside him. His eyes glowed in an unholy manner, though that might have just been the way that a nearby streetlight illuminated him when he moved. “Don’t care about you,” Cox said. “I don’t want nothing to do with you. I want that friend of yours. Your fuck buddy.”

“Why? Explain this to me. Tell me what’s going on.”

“And why should I do that? You aren’t the one I’m after.”

I really should have looked into this man a very long time ago. I could have prevented all this if I wasn’t so distracted by everything else.

Sirens wailed in the distance as police cars received the news that something was amiss. The sound was thin and far away, rapidly approaching. They would be here in no time.

Nathan nodded in the general direction of the sound, though he suspected Cox might not be able to tell where the sirens were coming from like a wolf could. “You hear that? Police are coming. They’re going to come here. Beat you up. Maybe shoot you. Put you in handcuffs and make you stand in a courtroom where no one gives a shit about what you say. Tell me now, and at least you’ll know that someone paid attention for once.”

He was betting on there being some sort of underlying issue here, instead of this being the result of a random act of revenge. There was always a story underneath the story, a motive that drove actions like this. A person didn’t just do something without reason, and if they did, it was because something had gone wrong in their brain. In short, there was always a reason.

With kids, they wanted to talk. They wanted to have someone acknowledge their problem. It might be the same way with Cox.

Cox hesitated, and Nathan’s hopes rose. The longer this took, the more likely it was that Cox would break or just waste all his time before the police arrived. And they were close now, only a few blocks away by the sound of it. The wailing of sirens was deafening, hellish.

Then Cox shook his head, reached into his pocket, and pulled out a gun. Everything Nathan knew in the entire world was blown away with a single shot.