Van juggled the grocery bags, trying to pull his keys out of his pocket.  "Yes, Papa, Eli's fine."

"I'm just concerned because he's been so lonely since we left," Papa said, his voice distracted.  They were in Los Angeles for Lion's newest press tour, and Van knew how much Papa loved the art scene there.

"He's just pouting because Natalie banned him from the gym," Van said, finally getting the front door open.  Personally, he was surprised that she'd waited as long as she had.  Now in his second trimester, Eli's slowly expanding belly had thrown his balance off entirely.  "I'm home," he called, heading for the kitchen.  "Papa says hi."

There was no answer, even though he could hear the TV playing in the living room.  "I'll call you back, Papa."

"We can come back, you know," Papa said, his voice sharp.  "Or one of your brothers can come stay.  It'll do Solomon good to get out of his routine."

"God, no," Van said before he could stop himself.  "If you make Solomon travel for me again so soon, he'll never forgive me."

"Your brother is not that bad."

"Sometimes I think you really believe that, Papa.  Besides, I've got a plan.  I'll call you back later, okay."  Van shoved the ice cream into the freezer; the rest could wait.

"Alright, dear.  Oh, but not tonight.  There's an art show, and then your Dad is taking me to a concert.  And tomorrow we're going to the beach so our reception might be spotty.  Maybe Friday?  But before lunch, because we've got to get ready for that party your brother is throwing..."

"We'll work something out, Papa," he said, leaning against the doorway of the living room.  Eli didn't look up, his eyes glazed as he slumped on the couch watching a home decorator put hideous orange drapes in some woman's living room.  "I gotta go."

"Love you, sweetie."

"Love you, Papa."  Hanging up before Papa could remember something else, Van tossed his phone on the coffee table and sat down next to Eli.  "How was your day?"

Eli grumbled but didn't resist as Van tugged him into a hug, tucking his head into Van's neck.

"Those are really ugly curtains," Van commented idly, stroking his hand over Eli's hair.

"Yeah," Eli said, picking at the blanket on his lap.  "I liked the last room she did better."

"Did you eat today?"  He pressed a kiss to Eli's head, then leaned down to kiss the drum-tight skin of his belly.  "Hello, kiddo."

"Kind of."  Eli shrugged, lacing his fingers through Van's on his stomach.  "Breakfast didn't stick, but I kept lunch down."

"Awesome.  Seems like the morning sickness is finally backing off."  Van ran his thumb back and forth over Eli's belly button, his favorite part of the whole adorably swollen picture.  He especially liked the way Eli couldn't help but smile because it tickled.  "We should celebrate.  Why don't we go out for dinner?  My treat."

Eli perked up, eying him suspiciously.  "Like where?"

"You tell me.  I feel like pasta."

"The Venetian," he said, after a moment.  Caesar's has a bigger buffet, but the Venetian is more focused.  Also, closer to the parking lot."  Lips twitching in a small smile, Eli patted his belly.  "I got vertigo just walking to the bathroom earlier.  Apparently, this one is lazy."

"She's allowed," Van teased.

"He's making Papa fat," Eli said, laughing when Van rolled his eyes.  "No, really. I've gained a whole sixteen pounds."

"Baby, that's all kid."  Van got to his feet, pulling Eli up as well and stealing a kiss.  "Go get dressed so we can go.  I'll tell Kim to meet us there."

Eli paused.  "Is she in town?"

Grinning, Van shooed Eli toward the bedroom.  "Yeah," he said, keeping his voice bland.  "She said something about some big media opportunity.  You know Kim, she's always up to something."

"She's going to run the world one of these days," Eli grumbled as he walked down the hall.

"Our daughter can help," Van called.

"Our son will call her Auntie and be in awe of her lipstick," Eli retorted.

Shaking his head, Van glanced around.  While Eli had technically moved in the week after his last press conference, he'd had so little luggage.  It was only since Van's family had left that little signs of him had started appearing around the house.  The blanket was a gift from Natalie, and there was a picture of them hanging on the wall that Kim had poached from the Times and framed.

When Papa had heard about what happened, the family had descended upon them like a plague, flooding Van's house with mess and noise.  Even Solomon had shown up, disgruntled and cranky until he saw Eli's nervous smile.  The one trait of Papa's that they had all ended up with, much to Dad's chagrin, was a need to take in every stray that they saw.  Eli's vulnerability had kicked them all into high gear.

Eli had been overwhelmed at first, bursting into tears when Papa had pulled him into a hug.  When Ben had shyly presented them with a teddy bear that he'd gotten from a crafty friend at college, Van had known that his family had won Eli over.

Three weeks later, he'd finally gotten rid of the last of them.  That had been two months ago, and Van lived in constant terror of Papa's threats to come back.

He was right about one thing though.  Eli was bored and lonely.  Kim had been back and forth to New York, working on keeping Eli's career going and keeping the media out of their business.  Natalie had gone to visit her mother in Miami for Thanksgiving, promising to be back before he got too big to see his toes.

For days, Van had been mulling over possible solutions, and then it had hit him.

"Does this look okay?"  Eli stood at the end of the hall, tugging at the hem of a t-shirt that kept trying to ride up over his belly.  He was too tall and muscular for most omega maternity clothes, so they'd had to stick with loose sweats and t-shirts.  It was almost time to get a bigger size.

"You look perfect, beautiful."  Van pulled an oversized hoodie out of the closet and let Eli pull it on.  "Papa's threatening to come visit for Christmas," he added, wrapping his arms around Eli's waist so that he could feel the baby press against his own stomach.

Eli slanted a look at him.  "Just your parents?"

Laughing, Van shook his head.  "Ben always stays with them over breaks, and Amy usually visits at least for Christmas Day.  Lion will come if there's not a movie opening that weekend, and the other two will wander in and out."

Eyes wide, Eli shuddered.  "Next year?"

"Sounds like a plan, baby," Van said, tugging him toward the door.  "Come on, I'm hungry."

The desert was brisk in early December, making them shiver whenever they passed out of direct sunlight.  Van was hoping to get Eli into the car before he noticed the blank spot in the yard, but Eli was too quick for him.

"I thought they were delivering my car today?"

Van smiled.  "It's getting detailed," he lied through his teeth.  "It smelled like cigarettes."

Shaking his head, Eli snorted.  "I thought it was pregnant people who hallucinated smells."

"I'm sensitive, what can I say?"  Van herded his lover into the car, his shoulders tense.  Climbing in, he made a show of glancing in the back and cursed.  "Crap.  I forgot about the balls.  You don't mind if we drop these off first, do you?  I was supposed to do it on the way home."

Eli craned his neck to look at the crates of sports equipment in the backseat.  "Why do you have an entire rec center in your car?"

"It's a donation for St. James," he said, pulling out onto the road.  "The kids will kill me if I don't get this stuff there for the tournament tomorrow.  It's the game of the season."

"What game?" Eli asked, his eyebrow raised.

Glancing at the crates in the rear view mirror, Van grinned.  There were balls of all kinds overflowing the containers.  There were even hockey pucks somewhere in the bottom.  "I have no idea.  I think soccer, but it could be football.  Miguel wasn't specific."

"Okay," Eli said slowly.

"Hey, we should go.  The kids would love having more people there to cheer them on."  Van turned down the street and watched Eli out of the corner of his eye.

Resting a hand on his belly, Eli swallowed hard.  "You think that would be okay?"

"They'll love it.  You'll see.  Here we are," he said, pulling into one cracked parking spot.  "You want to come in?  They'll have the heat on."

Eli eyed the building critically.  "I can wait here."

"No problem," Van said cheerfully.  "I'll just be a minute.  I think the kickboxing class should be just about over."

"They teach kickboxing?"  Leaning forward, Eli's eyes traced the cracked concrete and peeling paint of the well-loved and perpetually underfunded community center.  "Kevin taught me some kickboxing."

"You're supposed to stay out of the gym," Van scolded, hiding his smirk behind a crate of balls as Eli frowned mulishly.  "Just wait here, and I'll run these in."

Struggling out of the car, Eli made it to the door before Van.  "I'll just wait inside where it's warm," he said when Van caught up.

"Whatever you say, baby," Van said, grinning broadly behind Eli's back.

The center wasn't nearly as full as it would be tomorrow, but there were still quite a few kids studying and practicing.  The classrooms to the left all had big windows, so it was easy to see the ten or twelve kids wearing hand-me-down workout clothes who were clumsily emulating the tiny man at the front of the room.

Eli drifted closer to the window as Van set the crate down on the table by the door.  A couple of the older kids nodded greetings to him and he winked at them.  Pointing to Eli, he gestured for the oldest boy, an alpha named Jeremiah, to keep an eye on him.  He was a good kid, almost eighteen and dominant without being overbearing, and he puffed up with pride at the responsibility.

Three crates later, Eli was still at the window, watching the kids with narrowed eyes.

"So," Van said, coming up behind him, "how do they measure up?"  Jeremiah watched them surreptitiously, only pretending to do his homework.

"They're not bad.  A couple of them could be good with work," Eli said without looking away.  "He's got the wrong kids on the bags though.  The little one on the left isn't landing his punches right, and he's going to strain his wrist.  The older kid in the middle should be on a speed bag to build endurance."

"They don't have one," Van said, laughing when Eli turned to him indignantly.

"What do you mean they don't have one?  At all?"

"Nope.  I think they used to, but it broke, and they just never considered it a priority."

"Not a priority?"  Eli gestured wildly, tipping a little as his belly threw him off balance.  "How do they expect kids to get into the junior leagues without developing their speed and accuracy?"

"This is just an afterschool program, Eli.  These kids are only here to kill time till their parents can pick them up," Van said soothingly, tucking him against his side to steady him.

"No," Eli said, pulling away.  "You have no idea what this place is.  Kids that come here, they don't have some big life plan.  Sometimes they're shitty at school and fail math three times in a row, but they can come to the gym and be good at something for once.  If you don't care enough to give them the tools to get better at what they're good at, then who will?  Not the government.  Not the schools.  Not the college entrance boards, because nobody cares about kids like that."  Breathing heavily, he rested a hand on his stomach and glared.

Van stared at him, his mouth hanging open.  "I love you," he said, his voice echoing off the concrete.

Taking a deep breath to launch into another impassioned speech, Eli registered the words with a shocked squeak.  "What?"

"You're amazing and I love you," Van said, cupping Eli's cheeks in his hand and kissing him.

"Gross," one of the younger kids said.  "You're not allowed to kiss in here, Mister."

Laughing into the kiss, Van pulled back enough to glance at Jeremiah.

The teenager shrugged, "It's a rule."

"I'm buying them a speed bag," Eli said.

"Okay," Van said, still laughing.

"And some more heavy bags."

"Okay."

"And some new equipment."

Clutching his stomach, Van nodded, too out of breath to speak.

Jeremiah rolled his eyes.  "Where are we gonna put all this stuff, man?  We're out of room as it is."

Eli froze, his eyes widening.  Swallowing hard, he glanced at Van.  "I could build a gym?" he said tentatively.

"Okay, baby," Van said pulling him in for another kiss.  "Whatever you want."

"Ew.  Stop it."  Two little boys ran for the classroom.  "Mr. Miguel, they're kissing!"

"I'm gonna build a gym."  Eli squared his shoulders and nodded.  "I need to talk to Kim."

Grinning, Van glanced toward the door.  "You hear that?  We're building a gym."

Heels clicked across concrete as Kim made her way to their side.  "Sounds like a great media opportunity," she said.

Eli stared at them, his eyes wide.  "You set me up."

"A little," Van said, unrepentant.  "You were bored."

Pursing his lips, Eli nodded reluctantly.  "I was bored."  He poked Van in the chest.  "Don't think you can get away with this though."

"Never."  Lips twitching, Van waved off Miguel's concerned look.  "Come meet Miguel.  He and his husband have run this place for six years."

"I'm mad at you," Eli said, sticking his nose in the air.

"Okay, baby."  Van led him toward the classroom.

"Van," Eli said just before they reached the crowd of kids spilling out the door.  "I really hate sushi."

Van laughed so hard he had to sit down.

 

#

 

Van crossed the forensic garage, scanning the identical techs bundled in head-to-toe white.  "King?"

"Over here," Bethany popped up from behind a divider panel, waving him back.  "I was just about to call you."

"Did you find anything?" he asked, his eyes skimming past the trashed Lamborghini.

Bethany shook her head, handing him a slim file.  "Nothing substantive.  He's smart."

"Damn."  He didn't bother to flip through the pages of useless information.  "Can we release it to the repair shop?"

"Yup.  They're picking it up this afternoon, full workup.  Thankfully the damage is all superficial," she said, eying the word 'whore' spray-painted onto the black car in neon yellow paint.

"Good," Van said, turning away.  "I want to get it back before Eli gets suspicious."

"Hey, Harris?" Bethany called as he walked away.  "We'll get him."

Van nodded, waving his thanks.  They'd get him.  They had to.