Copyright November 2003

Gil dropped his briefcase on the floor, too mentally and physically exhausted to care about the scratches it made on his newly waxed living room floor. A week of 12 hour shifts, coupled with the worst heat wave to hit Las Vegas in the past five years, had taken its toll on the CSI supervisor and all he could think about was grabbing a quick bite to eat and submerging himself in a cold tub of water.

"Wonder if Greg fixed lunch?" An hour before leaving work, Gil had called and roused his young lover from his morning nap, taking only enough time to inform Greg of his imminent arrival and request that he fix a light lunch for them to share.

Entering the kitchen, Gil immediately detected a current of hot air invading the coolness of the room. "I thought Greg fixed that broken latch." Finding the door to the rear patio ajar, he made a mental note to call a proper locksmith. "When you want the job done right...." Gil started to close the door but a movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention and he stepped outside to investigate. His astute gaze immediately discovered Greg curled up in the corner of the new swing his lover had insisted they add to the patio.

"What in the world is he doing out here? It's so hot, you can hardly breathe." Moving closer to the swing, Gil reached out a hand to shake Greg awake and was startled to find tears flowing down his cheeks. "Greg?"

Gil took a seat beside his silent companion, his eyes opening wide with surprise when Greg immediately moved into his arms and hid his face in the crook of Gil's neck. The older man patted Greg on the back and waited patiently for him to reveal the cause of his distress. When no explanation was forthcoming, he carded his fingers through Greg's hair and gently tugged his head away from its hiding place.

"Greg." Refusing to acknowledge how deeply Greg's tears affected him, Gil cleared his throat and asked gruffly, "Why the sad face? Something happen at work?"

Greg scrubbed the tears from his face before laying his head on Gil's shoulder, his gaze fixed in the distance. "The Winston baby, how...."

Unconsciously rubbing his cheek in Greg's hair, Gil interrupted him with an explanation. "The temperature in the car was 145 degrees and when the human body is exposed to that type of heat...."

Twisting around, Greg halted Gil's words by pressing the tips of his fingers to his lips. "No. That's not what I'm asking." He leaned forward and captured the older man's mouth in a slow, tender kiss before turning back around and snuggling into his arms. "What I can't understand is how they could murder such a precious baby? I know they thought he had this incurable disease and that they had already suffered the loss of one child to that disease. But how could they, without knowing for sure, without knowing the final results of the lab test, put him to death?"

Tears once again flowed from Greg's eyes. "Yeah, so maybe they couldn't deal with another sick baby, couldn't go through that kind of pain again. But to kill him? To just lock him in that hot car and let him die? That I'll never understand."

Standing up abruptly, Greg walked to the edge of the patio and clutched the corner support beam. "If they didn't want him, why didn't they put him up for adoption? There are thousands of couples that would have been more than willing to take him off their hands." Greg bowed his head and whispered to himself, "Thousands of us."

Closing his eyes, Greg moaned softly when Gil's arms slid around his waist and pulled him away from the wooden beam he was gripping. "Greg?" The breath that carried his name scudded across his ear before moving lower to warm the side of his neck. Seconds later, gentle hands slid beneath his damp t-shirt and opened wide over his bare chest.


Thoughts and emotions overwhelmed Greg and he stripped off his thin shirt, encouraging Gil to continue with his caresses. "I guess it probably sounds stupid to you but ever since I can remember I've always wanted to be a father. Wanted to have kids." Greg kissed the hollow at the base of Gil's throat. "My dad was so great, he loved me so much, made growing up so much fun-it made me want to be just like him. Be a dad."

"Greg." Gil gripped Greg's chin and forced him to look up. "We're two gay men. Children are not a part of our future."

"Why? Why can't we adopt?" Greg jerked his chin free and turned so that his back was to Gil again. Sighing, he held up a hand. "Don't. I know all the answers. Believe me, I know. Been researching this subject for a while now."

Moving to stand in front of Greg, Gil stood silent for several minutes, closely watching the emotions chase across the younger man's expressive face. Nodding to himself, he pulled out his cellphone and punched in a familiar number.

"Catherine? It's Gil. Yes, I know what time it is. Yes, I know you left the same time I did. Catherine, I seem to remember you mentioning something about being unable to take Lindsey to the zoo to see the new baby elephant. That conference in Colorado you're scheduled to attend was the reason, I believe." Gil cupped the side of Greg's face and brushed his thumb across his lips. "If you don't object, I know a couple who would be more than happy to take her in your stead."

Greg turned his head and kissed the palm of Gil's hand, whispering softly, "I love you."

Gil shifted his hand and circled the back of Greg's neck, pulling him to his side. "When should Greg and I pick her up?"

The end

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