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Part 2 of Connections
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Peja's Wonderful World of Makebelieve Import
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2020-11-04
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Like Sands Through the Hourglass....

Summary:

Nine revealing glimpses into the first few months in the life of Bobby, Darien and their little girl.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

A.N. : If I'm playing with canon in part IX, I didn't mean to. (That statement is made only to separate this piece from the ones where I *did* mean to mess with it.) I never remember them saying anything on the show about where Bobby's paranoia actually grew from and I needed a catalyst. If they did mention the specific cause, someone tell me please?

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I

"I can't really advise you on this, Darien. It's your decision whether or not to bring it up."

"I guess.... I'm just afraid of what he'll say if I.... I'm not really asking for advice, Claire. More like.... an objective opinion. You're close to both of us, yeah, but you're not in here with us. You're still that step or two away. I need that view-point. Just... tell me what you see from outside me and Bobby."

"It's difficult.... You sit there pleading for the truth, but if I give it to you...."

"I promise to take it as it comes and not get ticked if I don't like what I hear. Please."

Making a final adjustment to the tape on the left side of Bobbi's diaper, Claire began to dress the squirming, giggling infant while she contemplated her response. Finally, she carefully lifted the baby, placed her in her bassinet and turned to Darien with a quiet sigh.

"What do I see? I see two wonderful parents who've adjusted to their lives being turned upside down about as well as anyone could. I see two strong men who've managed to find a way to surrender everything to someone else and yet never give up the essence of who they are. I see men who make the perfect partners on the job and off and who complement each other better than any two people I've ever known. You know each other so well by now, you finish Bobby's thoughts and he finishes yours. You support each other, you watch out for each other and you're so deeply in love it's practically leaking out your pores. What I see, Darien, is something so right.... so beautiful that it makes me believe again."

"Believe? In what?"

"In the possibility that I might find that kind of love someday. It's been a long, long time since I allowed myself to believe that."

"Claire. I'm sorry..."

"No. Don't ever apologize for having found love, sweetheart. It's a rare and precious thing. Don't ask forgiveness for it, cherish it. Seeing what you and Bobby have and all you survived to get to where you are.... it gives me tremendous hope."

Darien reached out and grasped Claire's hands tightly and stared down at where their fingers overlapped.

"So.... you're saying go for it?"

"I told you, what I think doesn't count. I adore the two of you and whether you decide to ask Bobby about this or not, my feelings for you won't change a bit. You need to sit down somewhere private and quiet and ask yourself two questions: Is this something I really want? Is it important enough to me that I want to share the idea with the man I love? Answer those two decisively and you'll know what to do next."

"Yeah? Love.... still can't get used to hearing that word. I'd pretty much convinced myself it was somethin' I wasn't supposed to even understand, never mind find myself in the middle of. Just sayin' it makes this... weird feelin' in my chest.... He loves me. I'm in love."

A quiet laugh escaped Darien, which Bobbi echoed, waving a tiny fist at her mother and Godmother.

"Apparently she agrees." Claire chuckled, reaching out to gently grasp the baby's fluttering hand.

Darien stared down at his little girl, his heart swelling with the emotions that always overwhelmed him when he was near her. He promised himself he would make the time to find that private, quiet space and have the answers to Claire's provocative questions before the day was out.

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II

Standing at the bedroom window, Darien watched the dawn slowly begin to overcome the darkness. He had never been an early riser before Bobbi's arrival. He had barely been a riser at all, in point of fact, counting sleep near the top of his list of favorite activities. Giving birth to a child had turned that list upside down and inside out, upending his priorities and radically shifting the axis around which his world turned, but he cherished the changes. Looking from his child to his sleeping partner, Darien laughed and shook his head slightly in disbelief that his focus had once been only himself, his only concern how events would impact his life.

As cold, gray light gradually transformed itself into the soft pinks and oranges of another spectacular California sunrise, Darien turned his head away in response to the murmurs and coos that meant Bobbi was waking up. Quickly, he tiptoed to the bassinet and lifted her out and up to his shoulder. To both his and Bobby's surprise and great relief, their daughter rarely cried, preferring to communicate her needs directly to her mother's mind. Crying was reserved for moments of intense fright or frustration or lack of Darien's mind to communicate with, and it usually lasted only until Bobby or her Godparents took her in their arms for a cuddle and a gentle word of reassurance.

After a swift and efficient diaper change, something he'd become an expert at, Darien returned Bobbi to her bed. She would remain there happily for another hour or so, studying her surroundings and receiving answers to her occasional picture-questions, content to relax and entertain herself until both parents were up and around and willing to begin the day. Once her immediate requirements had been fulfilled, Darien crept off to the bathroom to satisfy a need of his own before slipping back into the bedroom.

For several minutes, he debated whether to resume watching the sun rise, but eventually decided to indulge himself in his new favorite pastime; watching Bobby sleep. Moving close to the bed, Darien crouched near his partner, smiling lightly, his gaze shifting from one aspect of the man to another. For the better part of half an hour, he watched Hobbes' chest rise and fall rhythmically and visually traced the shape and structure of his face, reveling in doing something Bobby would never have sat still for while awake. Darien had performed this private ritual many times since they had finally moved into their new apartment, but somehow, this particular morning was different, the sensations far more intense than they had ever been before, and he tried to step away. He tried and failed.

Abruptly, Darien realized he was focused only on Bobby's slightly open mouth. In direct defiance of the warnings from his brain and the pit of his stomach, Darien found he could not tear his eyes away. The texture of the delicate skin, the variations of pinkness from one spot to the next, the warm breath pulsing from between Bobby's lips all held Darien in a virtual trance.

Utterly unaware of what he was doing until it was too late to retreat, Darien stretched out a hand and ghosted a finger along Bobby's top lip. In a second, his wrist had been seized in a firm grip and Bobby was gazing up at him, fully awake and clearly aware of what was happening. Humiliation and shame sweeping over Darien, he tried to tear away, to turn and run, but Hobbes wouldn't allow it and tightened his hold.

Anticipating rejection, or at the very least an earful of Bobby's usual stinging humor, Darien was stunned when Hobbes tugged the wrist he held close to his face and kissed the back of his partner's hand lingeringly, watching carefully for any sign of distress, ready with an immediate apology if it appeared the gesture was not acceptable. When Darien responded by relaxing, ceasing his attempts to escape, Bobby released his hand, breathed an imperceptible sigh of relief and locked his eyes onto his partner's, willing him to decide what the next move would be, or if there would even be one.

A tiny smile tugging at the corners of his mouth that belied the mild confusion in his gaze, Darien brushed his fingers over Bobby's scalp, shoved his fear and dark expectations aside and leaned in to place a brief, there-and-gone peck on Bobby's lips, retreating almost before the contact had even been made. Hobbes, however, was not so willing to settle for Darien's idea of a first kiss. Lifting his upper body off the bed, supporting himself on his hands, Bobby pursued the face that was fast pulling away from his. Finally seeing that the other man was doing anything but rejecting him, Darien halted his withdrawal, his grin broadening marginally. When the other man leaned back in and initiated contact again, Bobby's eyelids slid down until they were almost closed and he threw himself wholeheartedly into the moment.

Their second attempt was not quite as tentative and lasted several seconds longer than the first. A single kiss became a series of fleeting kisses, lip brushing lip, exploring, wondering, testing the limits of courage and resolve until both ran out. When they separated at last, Bobby's familiar confident smile lit his features and quickly infected Darien, who smirked and stood slowly, stretching cramped muscles in his long legs.

"Helluva way to say good mornin', Fawkes."

Darien bent his head, finally severing the intense visual bond between them. Turning away, he headed for the kitchen to start breakfast, his typical goofy smile never wavering.

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III

"Awwww! Crap! I thought only boy babies could do that!" Bobby groaned, desperately squeezing his eyes shut and backing away from Bobbi's changing table. As he returned to the room with a damp cloth, Darien was struggling to keep his laughter to himself.

"I warned you man. This kid could write her name in the snow if she wanted to. That is if there *was* any snow in San Diego...."

"Just shut up and gimme the wash cloth!" Bobby growled, snatching the cloth from Darien's hand. As Bobby moved out of the way, Darien stepped in to complete the unfinished diapering job. Leaning in, he whispered conspiratorially to the smiling child.

"That's my girl, Bobbi. That'll teach your daddy to finish my left-over pork fried rice without even askin'."

Bobbi giggled and sent Darien an image of Hobbes' face immediately following her attack. The two began to laugh together as Bobby stomped out of the room, yelling over his shoulder that he was going to have to disinfect his face with bleach.

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IV

"Yeah, but.... It's not.... c'mon, doc. Just once gimme a straight answer."

"Sorry. Not how it works. I'm not here to just hand out easy solutions, Bobby. I'm supposed to be helping you find them on your own."

"I know, but.... ah, crap." Hobbes moaned, dropping his head into his hands. "What do you want me to do? This is.... I mean.... you're gonna triple my meds when you hear...."

"Bobby. You know me better than that."

"I guess I do. You've never judged me or put me down for how I am...."

"You said you've been holding back, struggling with whether or not to tell me a big secret." Bobby's psychiatrist reminded him gently, guiding him back to the reason he was there.

"Yeah..... Okay. You want the whole story? Here it is. I.... I'm in love. For the first time.... I found real, actual love."

"You've always claimed Vivian was your first love."

"Yeah, well.... It's like.... you got no clue you've been drinkin' swamp water laced with rat poison.... 'till somebody hands you a glass of Dom Perignon. Then you realize how you were cheatin' yourself all that time.... cramped up in coach when you deserve to stretch out an' relax in first class. That's what I got now. First class, all the way."

"I can see how happy you are. Quite a change. Do I get to know her name?"

"Uh... right. This is the scary part. {Deep breath, Hobbes..... if you really love him, you shouldn't be ashamed to just say it....} It's not a her. It's a him. My partner, Darien Fawkes."

"Okay." His doctor replied slowly, absorbing the revelation. "Tell me about him. Tell me why he's so wonderful."

Hobbes stared at her critically for a long moment before deciding she really wasn't going to judge him before letting him have his chance to convince her.

"Wonderful? Nah. Way beyond.... There ain't enough synonyms in the world. He knows everything about me an' he still stays.... says he loves me more for bein' strong enough to survive. He supports me, he makes me laugh, he never throws my mistakes back in my face.... even the gigundo ones. He needs me as much as I need him... which, I'll admit, it took me a long time to confess to."

"Everything? Up to and including the deep traumas we're still working through?"

Abruptly, Bobby's semi-joyful expression collapsed and he turned his eyes down.

"No. Not yet. But.... I'm ready to tell him. That's why.... that's why I called an' asked to see you for an extra session.... outside our regular schedule, ya know? Me bein' the patient, I'm allowed copies of the tapes you make of our... talks, right?"

"If I decide it's warranted. I assume you're thinking about last April and last July?"

"Yeah. I... I think I can get through tellin' him the worst of it by myself. I just... wanted the tapes as a back-up, in case I.... fall apart. So if it gets too hard to push the words out..... he'll still know."

"I'm really surprised, Bobby. Asking me for copies of the session tapes took a lot of guts. You're really committed to this man."

"Was that a question or are you sayin' you know for sure?"

"Half and half, I think. Give me a few days to consider it. For now, we still have thirty minutes left. Tell me more about Darien."

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V

"Fawkes? Where are you? I got dinner an' dessert. Answer up, Fawkes."

"In the living room." Darien croaked, quickly shutting off the video tape he'd been watching. As Bobby entered with several bags in hand, one look at his partner told him something was very wrong.

"Hey.... you've been cryin'. What happened? Is everything okay? Is the baby alright?"

"She's fine. I'm fine. It's all... fine."

"Yeah, right. You can sit there an' say that with the tears still dryin' on your cheeks. Talk to me."

After a moment of thought, Bobby remembered hearing a click as he came in and connected the sound with the VCR remote. "What? It's about a tape? You were bawlin' over a video? What is it, huh?" Bobby asked, swiping the remote and pushing the play button.

"Hobbes, no! Give it!" Darien protested, grabbing the device back and stopping the tape again. They battled back and forth for a few minutes, one on the remote, one at the machine, until Darien realized he wasn't going to win and allowed the movie to play. Seeing at last what had apparently made the other man so emotional, Hobbes burst into a fit of guffawing laughter.

"No way... "The Tigger Movie"?! You gotta be kiddin'!"

"Yeah, whatever." Darien shot back sourly as he stopped the movie again. "Just 'cause you've never seen it an' don't have the first clue what it's about..."

"It's about a stuffed donkey....an' a stuffed bear.... an' a stuffed pig...." Bobby choked out before he lost control of himself again.

"No, it's not! It's about me! It's about.... thinkin' you're all alone in the world.... an' you know what you really need... is somebody who understands you.... who knows who you really are an' wants to be a part of your life. You go crazy lookin' for that one person.... then you realize they were under your nose all along...."

Finally beginning to realize how strongly Darien truly felt about the movie, Bobby's laughter faded out quickly. He took the food into the kitchen, returned and dropped to the sofa beside his partner.

"Yeah? All that in a cartoon, huh? Sounds more like one a'them Hallmark movies. Feel like watchin' it again?"

"It isn't over yet."

"Yeah, but I gotta see it from the beginnin' to get the message, don't I?"

"I guess so." Darien acquiesced, hitting the button to rewind the tape. "On one condition. No more making fun."

"I swear. It just hit me weird that somebody as smart as you would be watchin' a cartoon."

"Full length animated feature if you don't mind."

"An' lah-di-dah to you too, Fawkes. Just start the thing up, wouldja? Don't skip over the before the movie stuff. I like to know what's comin' out next."

"Didn't you just tell me that smart adults don't watch this stuff?"

"I'm not smart... not like you anyway. Besides, it ain't for me. Every time Disney re-releases one of the classics I pick up a couple copies an' send one to my sister's kids an' one to my brother's. They're gettin' a pretty decent collection."

"Just because the baby's been born doesn't mean you can go back to knockin' yourself, Hobbes...."

"Doesn't mean you can keep naggin' me about it, either. Hold off on startin' the tape. I'll grab the food an' we'll eat in here."

"We are gonna talk about this sometime, Bobby...."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Get out here an' fix yourself a plate before it gets cold."

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VI

Perched beside Eberts on the couch in his and Darien's living room, Bobby rocked his little girl slowly back and forth in his arms, watching her face move from shadow back into the soft yellow morning light that streamed through the front windows of the ground floor apartment. She, in turn, stared intently up at him, almost as if she wished she could communicate with him as easily as she did with her mother.

"You don't have to, Eberts. We can take her with us like we've been doin'. Claire said she'd be happy to look after her."

"Really, I want to take care of her. My new..... arrangement with Charles has provided me the freedom to create my own schedule. If I choose to spend the day with your beautiful, charming daughter, noone can say me nay. Except you of course. I mean, if you'd rather..."

"Oh, no. No way. You are her godfather after all. 'Course you can spend some time with her. She loves it when you come to see her. A whole day, she'll be ecstatic
when we come home."

"All I can hope for is that she'll still be intact and relatively clean when you return." Eberts joked as the infant was laid carefully in his arms.

"Ah, c'mon, Ebes. You're great with her. You took to diaperin' an' feedin' like a champ, just the way I knew you would." Bobby praised his friend. "You'll make an awesome dad yourself someday."

"Me? Oh, dear no. I really think not."

"An' why not? You got all the skills down pat."

"Well.... firstly there would, of necessity, have to be a woman involved. I've... never really had a great deal of luck in that area of life.... or in the area of social endeavors in general...."

"Woman.... right. Otherwise you'd need Fawkes and another case of beer an' lemme tell you, for a lotta reasons.... that's *never* happenin' again. As far as the social skills department goes, we can fix that, buddy. Shouldn't be hard. All you need is a few lessons, a little practice an' some tips on where to look."

"Where to look? I've always been told one looks in bars and at large gatherings when seeking companionship..." Eberts responded, curious despite a memorized laundry list of past failures and disappointments.

"There's your first mistake, my friend. Noone who meets your qualifications is ever gonna walk into a bar. Gatherings... that's a possibility, if we pick the right kinds."

For a moment, Eberts' face lit up with hope. He had spent much of his life lonely and much of his career at the Agency watching men like Bobby Hobbes and Darien Fawkes have to turn women aside for simple lack of enough hours in the day. For a moment, Bobby's words made sense to him, they made him want to believe. Then his logic kicked in and his mildly joyful expression turned into a rueful smile.

"No. Thank you for your kindness, Robert, but.... no."

"No? What's that supposed to mean? You have just as much chance as anybody to find love, Eberts. We just gotta jump-start your self-esteem an' show you a few tricks of the trade...."

"Love. That's the operative word, Robert. I believe love is possible for all of us. Observing you and Darien has shown me that much at least. The sticking point is that... my observation has also raised my expectations and my standards. I'm no longer willing to settle for a here today, gone tonight relationship that won't last any longer than the bubbles in the champagne we order with dinner. That's not love and.... I know now that I can have love. I deserve love such as you and Darien have. I'll wait."

"You can't wait for it to come to you, man. You have to go out and find it, ya know?"

"Did you go looking for it, Robert?"

"No... but..."

"Case closed. When *it* finds *me* I'll know. Until then... I'll wait. Now then, considering that her tastes seem to change every five minutes lately, what would her current favorite be, vis-à-vis baby food?"

"She's big into veggies an' fruit at the moment. Anything with meat in it ends up on the wall or the floor or on me an' her mom. The fridge an' the cabinets are all stocked up, so you shouldn't have a problem findin' somethin' she'll eat."

"Quite a wise course of action, young lady. I myself am working towards becoming a vegetarian. Not an easy row to hoe, I must tell you. Would that I had possessed your presence of mind at such a young age."

Bobby grimaced at the mere thought of living without burgers and Philly cheese-steak sandwiches.

"Hey. I said you could take care of my kid, not brainwash her."

"It sounds to me as if she's made her own choices, Robert. I just happen to agree with her. We smart eaters have to band together, don't we Roberta Claire?"

"Oh, jeez... " Bobby groaned as he grabbed his jacket and headed out the apartment door.

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VII

"Hold still, willya? I can't get it on right if you keep wigglin'!"

"I know this was my idea.... but it was a really bad one, I admit it now. Get this thing off me, Hobbes...."

"Just chill out, okay? You said you wanted to give it a shot an' I agree. Hey. Fits real good. Guess I got the right size after all. I was afraid to go too big, ya know, but... it looks perfect. Here take this. It's all nice an' warm."

"Hobbes, don't make me do this...."

"What's the big deal, Fawkes? You just slip it in there like this... there. Nothin' to it. Didn't even hurt. You make such a production outta everything."

"Hurt? No, it just makes oatmeal out of my pride, my dignity an' my manhood...."

"You lost those when you got pregnant an' had a baby, sweetheart. Give it up. We're doin' this."

Stepping to the bassinet where Bobbi lay happily examining her toes, Hobbes lifted her gently and walked her over to her mother who waited on the bed, his expression half fearful, half irritated as he fidgeted inside the vest his partner had strapped on him. When he had casually mused that he was rather sad he'd never get the experience of breast feeding their little girl, Hobbes had (in Darien's humble opinion) gone insane and run out to buy a device made to allow fathers just such an experience. With a warm bottle already in the pocket designed for it, Darien resigned himself to losing the last shreds of his masculinity and accepted the infant from Bobby's arms.

For all that she'd been relegated to bottle feeding from birth, Roberta Claire seemed to know exactly what to do when placed in the strange new situation and took to the pseudo-breast like she'd been doing it all along. The images of comfort, security and peace she sent Darien served to calm his distress as well.

"So? Looks like she's okay with it."

"Yeah. She got the idea right off. Funny."

"Nah. Babies know these things. Funny.... is you in that thing." Bobby chuckled.

"Oh yeah? Wait 'till I go out an buy you an empathy belly. We'll see how you look carryin' around thirty extra pounds! An' it even has a piece that presses on your bladder so you have to go to the bathroom every five minutes, just like I did!" Darien retorted.

"You ain't never gettin' me in one a'those things, Fawkes!"

"Oh yeah? I'll do it the same way you got me to do this. Blackmail."

"You wouldn't dare...."

"Oh wouldn't I? Claire still doesn't know who used up half her bubble bath an' the last of her strawberry shampoo, does she?"

"Fawkes, you little creep...."

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VIII

"Bobby... I'm sorry, man. I know how much she meant to you."

"It... it was the jealousy. Her old heart just... couldn't take it. I shoulda known... I mean... she's been actin' up lately.... coughin' an' wheezin'... I promised to wash her this weekend.... I just never got around to it.... Damn, Fawkes.... I never even got to say I'm sorry before she... passed on....."

"And she wouldn't even turn over when you came out to start her up this morning?" Darien asked as he watched Golda being hooked up to the wrecker. Bobby stood facing the other direction, unable to bear the sight of his beloved van being hauled away for the last time.

"She tried.... she gave this... sad groan.... like she was in pain.... then she sorta.... exhaled.... then nothin'.... The guy said it's hopeless..... my sweet Golda's flat-lined.... brain-dead.... I gotta go inside.... I can't stick around for this.... damn tow-truck might as well be a hearse...."

As Hobbes hurried back into the apartment to hide from the grisly sight, Darien stood watch in his place, feeling some obligation to the ancient vehicle. As it vanished down the street, gliding gracefully along, Darien pulled out his cell phone and dialed work to tell them he and Bobby would be late due to an unexpected death in the family. As he waited for an answer, Darien began to hum 'Taps' under his breath, tucked the phone into the crook of his shoulder and mimed firing a rifle into the air seven times.

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IX

Darien watched Bobby pace the room for what seemed like the thousandth time that night, the concern he'd been feeling all evening only intensifying. The younger man had allowed his partner to stew for almost two hours, wanting to believe Hobbes would come to a decision and speak his mind eventually, but the tension in the house had finally become too much to handle. When Bobbi, too, began to whimper, unhappy with the pea-soup thick fog of repressed emotion, Darien spoke up.

"Bobby. Glue your feet to the floor for a minute and talk to me, will ya? You haven't stopped movin' since we got home from work. Whatever it is, I'll understand.... an' we'll work through it together."

At last, Bobby halted his perpetual motion experiment and raised his eyes to meet his partner's.

"Sorry. It's just.... this isn't easy. We need to talk about somethin'.... somethin really serious."

For a brief moment, Fawkes was jolted, wondering if Hobbes could possibly have had the same idea that he'd been harboring and agonizing over for weeks. A study of Bobby's pain-filled gaze told him otherwise, however. Turning his body, Darien stretched one leg the length of the couch, leaving his other foot on the floor, and held out a hand. Sighing quietly with relief, Bobby moved swiftly to the sofa and took up the speaker's place in what they had just recently begun to call their "Serious Discussion" position: his back against Darien's chest, Darien's left arm wrapped tightly around him in emotional and physical support.

"Okay. I've got you, love. It's safe now. Go ahead and talk."

"To start with, I gotta make an apology. You know a couple weeks ago, when I begged off lunch? I said I was just gonna... go sit by the water.... think a little bit where it was quiet. I lied. I called up my shrink for an extra session. I wasn't sure what she was gonna say.... how it'd work out, so I didn't wanna get you worried. I.... I finally told her about you.... about us."

"Apology accepted. And?"

"She's good with it. She said she could see how much in love I am. I had to tell her, had to make her understand..... or else she woulda said no to the real reason I was there."

"Which is the reason we're here." Darien chuckled softly. Bobby shivered lightly as the mild vibration of his partner's laugh traveled through him then he shook himself mentally and got back on topic.

"Yeah. I'll get to that. If it's okay, I wanna mess with the format a little tonight. No questions 'till I'm done. Puttin' this into words..... it's gonna hurt like hell. What I really need... is for you to just.... listen. Alright?"

"Of course it's alright. You know we only made one rule for this. Whatever you need, you get. No questions, no argument."

"I know. Still.... thanks."

Darien closed his lips tightly on the automatic 'You're welcome' and drew Bobby closer. "Okay.... where do I start, here? The beginnin', I guess. Before they assigned me to you, I was a wreck. I hated the world.... feared it. I trusted nobody. Basically, I'd built a bunch of walls around my heart an' my soul. Not brick walls, either. We're talkin' two foot thick, steel reinforced cement with no doors. I wasn't lettin' anybody in. All of a sudden, they dump you in my lap. I read your file an' figured you for nothin' but a punk-ass kid who needed a serious attitude adjustment an' a hell of a lot of trainin'. That was before I met you down in Mexico. The first look in your eyes.... I was so scared I wanted to run for the border an' never look back. I covered a'course, but I knew.... damn it, I just knew I was lookin' at a human wreckin' ball.... somethin' even my walls wouldn't hold up against."

When Hobbes paused, Darien began to stroke Bobby's hair, neck and shoulders with his free hand, silently encouraging the other man.

"There was a lotta stuff behind those walls, ya know? Even as nasty as some of it was, I still felt like I had to protect it.... an' protect you from it. Man, did I try. I pushed you away, pissed you off, called you a snot-nosed punk every chance I got.... anything to keep you at a distance and keep my secrets safe. I thought it worked, I really did..... 'till I looked up one day.... and realized that every wall.... all those barriers I thought were so strong.... they all had this.... huge, Darien shaped hole in 'em. You'd just.... walked through like they didn't even exist. I'd spent so much time alone in there.... alone with the pain an' the anger.... I always figured, live that way, die that way.... an' I was okay with it. Then... then you were there..... tellin' me it didn't have to be.... forcin' me to see that somebody actually gave a damn....."

By this point, Darien had laid his cheek on the top of Bobby's head and was valiantly fighting his own emotions, fearing a loss of control on his part would trigger one from Bobby and the most vital piece of the story, the one he felt Hobbes desperately needed to speak, might never come out.

"Now, I know I just said you broke through all my walls, but that ain't totally true. There's a couple even *I* didn't get through 'till last summer. That's the reason I did the lunch session with Doc Mason. She makes tapes of all our sessions an' just in case this got too hard for me.... I wanted copies of the specific sessions.... so you'd be able to hear what I couldn't say. Don't expect to hear about both of these horror shows tonight. One's gonna be hard enough.... I just.... I hope you can understand.... I didn't want you to have to break this one down. I trust you... like I never trusted anybody. I wanna open this wall up for you...."

When he felt Darien nod a little against his scalp, Bobby drew a deep, slow breath, expelled it and continued.

"You've told me more than once that you were convinced I was born salutin' and quotin' military regs. You were closer to the truth than you ever knew. I've always been a.... straight arrow, I guess. It hasn't always been a good thing. Back.... back in college.... it got me in trouble.... trouble that stuck with me a hell of a lot longer than my classes ever did. It was early spring.... '79 I think. We were on an ROTC bivouac out in some national forest somewhere.... about a dozen of us, just sittin' around flappin' our gums one night. I guess maybe a couple of the guys.... they just got tired a'me pushin' the rulebook at 'em all the time. They decided to... loosen me up. One of 'em, I never did find out who, slipped some LSD in my food. What they didn't know was that at nineteen I already had an ulcer.... an' I'd just taken a dose of my meds. The two drugs.... they didn't exactly play nice together. My system kinda.... went berserk. The docs told me later that what happened... it was a one in a million shot. They didn't think it could ever happen to anybody else.... lucky me, huh?"

Slowly, imperceptibly, Darien slid his other arm around Bobby's chest as well, hoping to increase his love's sense of safety while not disturbing the flow of his thoughts.

"Anyway, I ran off into the woods. I was so confused..... scared outta my mind. The one guy who tried to stop me.... they said I beat him down pretty bad.... I don't remember it. I.... I was missin' for almost forty-eight hours before they found me. The paramedics... they said I was havin' a Grand Mal seizure.... For a long time the whole two days was a blank. It wasn't 'till years later that the memories started showin' up.... as flashbacks, ya know? Brutal nightmares.... By that time I was already with the feds. I tried to hide it, make out like I was okay. 'Sure, I'm sleepin' fine. Nah. Nothin's wrong. I'm doin' great.' If anyone had really looked at me, they'd have known I was lyin'....

Doc Mason thinks maybe that's where the paranoia started. I was tryin' so hard to be normal.... to hide what was goin on. I got to thinkin' everybody knew.... that any minute somebody was gonna grab me, throw me in a hospital..... an' I'd never see the outside world again. Eventually, I had an episode in front a'somebody else.... on assignment, yet. It was bound to happen, I guess. That forced me into therapy.... which saved my mind and my life even if it ended up costin' me my rep an' my job. I... I haven't had a flashback in... wow, four years. Man, it seems a lot longer. I still have the memories.... an' a nightmare once in a while. That an' the paranoia are probably gonna be with me forever.... but mostly.... I'm okay, now."

Sensing the tale was finished, Darien leaned in close to Bobby's ear and whispered, his tears falling gently on the other's shoulder.

"I love you so much. Thank you. Look.... I have to ask you somethin'. I wasn't sure before, but now.... I know it's right. Damn.... how am I supposed to say this?"

"You're afraid a'what I'll say?"

"Not really. I'm more afraid you'll laugh if I put this wrong.... Robert Hobbes. Will you stand at my side, in front of Claire and Eberts, and make a commitment to me, to our child and to our love?"

Stunned, Bobby closed his eyes and reached a hand back, searching for and eventually finding Darien's face, using the slightly rough texture of the other man's cheek to ground himself. As in the ultrasound room, it did no good, but he rejoiced in the fact that this time his urge was not to run, but to shout his delight to the world. At first his heart beat erratically then it began to race frantically and for several seconds he was sure Darien was going to have to call an ambulance. Only when his emotions had calmed a little was he able to speak.

"It won't be legal.... but why do I think you couldn't care less?"

" 'Cause neither do you. It can only make everything easier. No license.... no blood test to worry about. Legal hell.... as long as it's real. And we both know it's real...."

An ear to ear smile spreading over his face, Bobby tilted his head back and produced a smothered laugh and a request.

"Ask me again."

{.... three years ago I couldn't conceive of ever asking anybody this question. Now... I'm putting everything I am in his hands.... I feel like I'll die on the spot if he says no....}

"Bobby Hobbes, will you marry me?"

{.... and to think that three years ago I never wanted to hear those words again.... Now.... everything comes down to this.... if he's playing me I'll die....}

"Absotively, posolutely..... yes, I'll marry you. Name the place, name the time."

Picking up the glass of juice he'd left sitting on the coffee table nearly an hour before, Darien lifted it so Bobby could see it and made a toast.

"Here's to... hearts being healed.... walls being broken down.... and the most incredible love I've ever known being mine forever."

"To love...." Bobby echoed quietly, accepting a small sip from the glass when Darien offered it. Darien took his own swallow of the sweet, warm liquid, then replaced the glass on the table. The two remained huddled together, silent, content to simply be close to each other until Bobbi, sensing their joy, demanded an invitation to the love-fest and dinner, in that order.

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NEXT: A Wedding Song

Notes:

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