"How much longer until they're finished gutting the completed units?" Teddy asked, picking his way carefully across the construction zone. "That scaffolding is unstable."

The head of the construction company followed his gesture with an unconcerned shrug. "We're just using it to hold materials. There's nobody working in that building." He flipped through some papers. "I still got another week until the last of the units are cleaned up. We're having issues with the trash guys again."

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Teddy took a deep breath. The hard hat kept knocking his glasses down his nose, and the sound of hammers was giving him a headache. Maybe he was dehydrated. "I'll talk to the city again," he said looking around at the bare studs. "Are these to the same dimensions as the others?"

"Yup. Everything matches the drawings exactly. My boys are the best." The builder puffed his chest out, straining the buttons on his shirt. He was an older man, an omega, probably quite striking in his prime, but too much alcohol had given him a ruddy complexion and a gut that preceded him. He frequently mentioned his wife and children, probably because of internalized omegaphobia.

"Were we able to salvage anything from the existing units?" Teddy asked, frowning at a clump of hanging wires. "Has the electrician been in?"

More page flipping. "The electrician's in building two," he said, mopping his brow. "We saved the toilets and tubs, but the cabinets were such cheap crap that they fell apart when we tried to pull them down. I mean, it's not like gangbangers and druggies need a granite countertop, but this stuff would have disintegrated the minute water touched it, Mr. Connelly."

"Call me Teddy, please," he said, gritting his teeth and making a note to interview different builders after the demolition phase was complete.

"Sure thing. The boys all call me Bill. How soon are you going to want us to start on the new layouts?" He squinted at some marks on the wall and then checked them against his paper, scribbling away. "The city still bickering about the budget?"

"No," Teddy said. "They've moved on to bickering about whose fault this fiasco is. I'm planning to have the layout ready as soon as your teams are finished cleaning our canvas." He crossed his fingers in his pocket, a habit he picked up back when he started building models with Nate. Children took wishes very seriously.

"Good, good. My guys are chomping at the bit," Bill said cheerfully. "Anything else you wanted to see today?"

"I need to talk to the electrician," Teddy said, distracted by the view out the window. "Can you send him over?"

"Of course. You let my boys know if you need anything else. They're the best there is." Stomping off with an out-of-tune whistle, the burly omega left Teddy alone in the dusty space.

Picking his way across the floor, careful of any stray nails, Teddy glared up at the building next door. There were a half dozen floors of finished units.

When he'd taken the job, he'd been assured they'd have all the improperly finished units cleared and ready for him to start building by the time he made it to town. Here he was almost a month later, and there were yet more delays.

To be fair, he still hadn't figured out the design, so they couldn't have started building anyway. He wasn't about to cut Bill and his boys any slack, though. He'd call the council tomorrow and ask about getting a new team for the construction. Bill had been hand-picked by the previous architect, and while Teddy couldn't blame the builder for following the design, he was beginning to see why the man had been chosen.

Around the development, life continued, adapting to the inconveniences with the kind of grudging grace that would have been right at home in New York. There was a tiny convenience store across the street that was probably making a fortune selling sodas and burritos to the construction workers. Once the project was done, though...If he could get it right, this whole neighborhood would be better off.

Scrubbing a dusty hand over his hair, Teddy wandered around the perimeter and looked out at the buildings in various states of construction. He already canceled two of the extra buildings to put in a playground and basketball court in the central courtyard. Studies showed that keeping them away from the street maximized safety for the children.

The little convenience store was doing a brisk business today, and he wasn't surprised to realize it was lunchtime. His stomach grumbled lazily, but he had a big breakfast so he could wait until the conversation with the electrician was finished.

A familiar, dark head appeared below, striding quickly along the sidewalk. Curious, Teddy leaned out the gaping hole that would eventually be a window. It was definitely Carlos, the threadbare backpack still hanging heavily on his back.

He looked tired, even from three stories up. Teddy frowned, calculating how many hours of sleep the omega could have gotten. There were dark smears on his clothes and hands that could have been pencil or dirt, and he stumbled a little as he ducked into the convenience store.

Had the lead Teddy given him been enough? It was his backup box since he was known to go through a case or more on a single project, but he definitely should have had enough to last him a while. Didn't engineers mostly use computers nowadays? Did Carlos have a computer? It would be faster with a computer, and then he could get more sleep.

He definitely wasn't getting enough sleep. Teddy leaned further out as Carlos reappeared in the doorway, talking to the store owner. He was smiling, but it was lopsided like the effort was just too much at the moment. Even the shopkeeper looked concerned.

Trying to remember how much sleep he'd gotten when he was in college, Teddy frowned. If Carlos was landscaping on top of just classes and staying up late to study...It probably wasn't a healthy amount. Then again, he probably wasn't landscaping for the fun of backbreaking labor in the sun, and college wasn't exactly cheap.

Pulling his phone out, he watched Carlos disappear around the corner thoughtfully.

"Is it socially acceptable to pay someone to sleep? —Teddy"

He didn't even have time to put his phone down before it was ringing.

"That's a no, then?" he said.

"Please tell me you haven't actually asked anyone yet," Marcus said, sounding out of breath. The former fraternity president and still de facto leader of their group, Marcus was known to be a bit of a fussbudget, so Teddy didn't take it personally.

"I haven't actually asked anyone yet," he repeated dutifully.

Huffing a loud breath, Marcus groaned. "Thank God. Prostitution isn't legal in Texas, Teddy."

"I'm aware," he said, frowning at the phone. "What does that have to do with anything?"

There was a pregnant pause, and Marcus cleared his throat. "Okay, let me back up here. You asked me if it was socially acceptable to pay someone to sleep with you. I take it you've met an omega?"

Red rage swamped Teddy for a moment, strong enough to scare him. "No," he growled, forcing his hands to relax where they'd curled into fists. "Not a...not like that!" Breathing deeply, he shoved the anger to one side and examined it, poking at it like a bruise until he found the spot that hurt. "Carlos isn't like that," he said. He definitely didn't like the thought that someone would get the wrong idea.

"Carlos, is it?" Marcus asked, amusement coloring his voice.

"Shut up," Teddy grumbled. "He's an engineering student, and he works."

Marcus hissed sympathetically.

"Exactly. So, I thought maybe if I paid him however much a day's work is, he could take a nap or something." It sounded silly now that he said it out loud, but this was why Teddy always ran things like this by someone else. His social skills were right up there with his singing voice. Both of them had been known to make small children cry.

"It's a nice thought, but I think you'd be better off trying to get him to sleep with you by getting him a gift or something."

"I gave him lead. For his drafting pencil," Teddy said, picking at his sleeve.

"Er..." So that wasn't a good gift, either. "How about try a scarf?"

"It's Houston. In the summer," Teddy said, rolling his eyes. "What's he going to do? Wear it as a sweatband?"

Marcus hummed thoughtfully. "You really like this guy, huh?"

"Yes, but I don't think he likes me much. The 'C' word got tossed around a lot." Leaning against the wall, Teddy wiped sweat off his forehead.

"Constitutional rights?" Marcus teased, his voice gentle.

"Crazy," he said softly. He didn't need to be coddled.

"Ah." Marcus sighed. It was a special kind of sigh that condensed a decade of rehashed arguments into a single sound for expediency.

Teddy grunted. He knew he wasn't crazy, but he was tired of having to tell people that.

"Well, he doesn't know you very well. Besides, there's always that landscaper you had your eye on," Marcus said. The silence stretched. "He's the landscaper, isn't he?"

Humming an affirmative, he ran a hand through his hair again. It released a cloud of dust, and he grimaced.

"I still think a nice, standard gift is the way to go," Marcus said, skillfully avoiding the other bad word in Teddy's life: normal.

"You mean boring," he said.

"A little boring," Marcus agreed. "Start with boring and work your way up. Or say the hell with it and get a second opinion. What do I know? I'm starting to think I'll be the last one of us to get married."

"Kurt," Teddy said immediately, well aware that it would take a miracle to drag their flirtatious brother away from his stock-markets.

"Good point," Marcus said. "You always know how to make me feel better. How's the job going?"

"Awful. And my family is still the bane of my existence. Are we done with small talk?" He glanced toward the stairs. "I think the electrician is here, finally."

Marcus laughed. "Yes, we're done. I'll let you go. I've got a staff meeting in ten minutes, anyway, so you're off the hook."

"Goody," Teddy said dryly, his lips twitching. "You always know how to make me feel better, too," he added, "but I'm still not buying him a scarf."

"Something small," Marcus said, laughing harder as Teddy snorted. "Boring and not even the slightest bit useful."

"I'm hanging up now," Teddy said, stabbing the button just as the electrician appeared in the stairwell.

Four and a half hours later, covered in dust and sweat, Teddy leaned over and grabbed another piece of chocolate off the plate sitting carefully up and out of the way. He dusted off his hands and put the cover back on the plate before he ran the piece of wood through the planer again.

His grandfather's shop smelled like old wood and new metal. The machines he had delivered sat gleaming next to hand tools that had been passed down in the Connelly family for generations. It was one of Teddy's favorite places in the world, not the least because Nana kept the tiny, hidden fridge stocked with chocolate.

He still hadn't solved the layout problem. There just wasn't enough space in the units as they were currently, but he didn't have the money to move every wall ten feet to the left. Even if he put the finest fixtures in them, the one bedroom apartments would be little more than closets.

The Caldwells were having a dinner party tonight, and he had no interest in meeting their friends. So, he'd come to Nana's to think. It hadn't done him much good. He kept going in circles about the project with occasional pit stops to wonder what exactly was an appropriately boring gift to give someone. Specifically someone you wanted to pay to get more sleep so you could see what their eyes looked like without dark bags under them. Or when they were smiling. Or laughing. Or sleeping.

That was a little creepy, wasn't it?

Sighing, he cut another set of blocks out of the wood. He'd already put together some nearly indestructible puzzles as requested, but he was trying out an idea he had for some building blocks that could be used to make historically accurate structures. Greg said it was a bit heavy for five-year-olds, but Teddy firmly believed it was never too early to start learning. If the little monsters were going to destroy things, they could at least learn about building them back up again.

Picking up his pencil, he tried sketching a different design onto the blueprints, but that just left him with no space for a bedroom at all. Throwing the sheet onto the pile of sawdust in the corner, he sighed.

Maybe he could get Carlos a drafting table? Marcus said small. How small was small? Even he could figure out that jewelry wasn't suitable, but it was definitely small.

"You're thinking about something awfully hard, sweetheart."

Teddy glanced up at his grandmother as she made her way across the dusty floor, her dainty suit and slippers a contrast to her capable stride. "How big is a small gift, Nana?" he blurted, setting down the wood he was working on.

She paused, looking him up and down with sharp eyes. It was something he inherited from her, that sharp look, but tempered with his grandfather's dreamier temperament and coloring.

"I'll make tea," she said. Without waiting for him to agree, she turned on her heel and marched right back out the way she came.

Carefully putting his tools away, Teddy dragged his feet heading to the house. Tea meant a long conversation, one that required the bracing effects of tea. He didn't even like tea, but after almost fifty years married to an Irishman, Nana wouldn't be swayed on the topic.

He cleaned up carefully in the bathroom off the kitchen, making sure to get every bit of sawdust and graphite off his clothes.

Despite his delays, she was just setting the tea tray down on the table as he walked in.

Sometimes, when people were particularly annoying or cruel, when words like freak and creepy and weird and crazy got thrown around, Teddy wanted to introduce people to Nana just to watch them squirm. Teddy was just observant; Nana was genuinely unnerving.

"Drink up," she said as he sat down. "Now, what's this about a small gift?"

He was close with his grandmother, but that didn't mean he was stupid. "It's a thank you present," he said. "Someone I met at the Caldwells’." He tried to console himself with the fact he wasn't lying, exactly.

She smiled. "A pretty one?"

Cursing his fair skin, he ducked his head as his ears burned. It wouldn't actually stop her from knowing he was blushing, but it made him feel better. "I think so," he said. He downed the tea so he wouldn't be tempted to say anything else.

"Well then..." she said, sipping her tea more sedately. "I assume one of your friends suggested a gift?"

"Marcus," he said, setting his cup back down with the others.

He liked his grandmother's tea sets. None of the pieces matched, scavenged from shops and garage sales over the course of her marriage. When he was young and impressionable, Grandfather had been told to always make sure he had spare china on hand for his wife to throw when she was angry.

Teddy was fairly certain Nana had never thrown a plate in her life, but it had become a joke, and then a habit, for people to bring her whatever little pieces they found.

"He's a smart boy," she said cheerfully.

"He suggested a scarf," Teddy said, raising one eyebrow.

She laughed, her voice ringing through the room. "I can see why you'd want a second opinion." Setting her own teacup down, she rested her hands in her lap. "In this case, I'd suggest something no bigger than a six-inch cube and less than $200."

Frowning, Teddy picked at a stray bit of lint on the arm of his chair. "Marcus said boring and useless."

"Aesthetically pleasing," she corrected, pressing her hand over his. Her skin was cool and soft, made delicate by age. "Functional gifts are best left for non-romantic holidays and days when you don't mind sleeping on the couch."

"If it was for someone who was of a lower economic class”...He gestured helplessly. "Marcus said that paying people so they can get more rest is frowned upon, and that's more than I think will be accepted."

"Hmm”...she looked him up and down, her dark eyes sweeping over his face. He hadn't wanted to hide away from her this much since he realized at fourteen he had no interest in the nice girls his mother pointed out at the country club. "Just make sure you take the price tag off," she said mischievously. "And, while I hate to undermine Marcus's very excellent suggestion, I think you can safely make it something functional as long as it's also pretty." She stroked his hand, her thumb tickling the sensitive skin of his wrist. "Maybe a nice gift basket. Some sweets or snacks or something."

"Something pretty," he said slowly, the word curling in the air like a bad smell.

"There's nothing wrong with things looking nice," Nana said, flicking his arm with her fingernail. "Don't try to argue. If you really did prefer sterile and functional, you'd love the modern minimalist movement, and we both know you'd put buttresses on everything if you could get away with it."

"They have a function," he muttered, and she laughed. "Thank you, Nana," he said, scooting to the edge of his chair to give her a hug. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Stumble around with your head in the clouds just like your grandfather." She held him tightly, smelling of lavender and muscle rub and affection. "I hope things go well with your special new friend," she teased as they separated.

Teddy's cheeks burned, but he couldn't help the little smile that curled his lips. "I hope so, too."