Jamie's New Hire

"You guys are so fucking annoying. Shut up."

"We're on lunch," Tory said. "We don't have to."

Claire jumped to her feet and stomped out of the room, shoving past Adam as she made her way to the door.

"Oh-oh. She's gonna go tell on us," Adam said, not even trying to hide his laugh. "We'd better go hide!"

Tory made to jump toward the door, but Adam grabbed his shirt and swung him back around. "Damnit, Adam!" he shouted as he continued to get spun in a circle. "Quit stretching out my shirt!"

"Make me!" the older man taunted with a laugh.

Tory twisted himself, kicking out his feet as he was wrenched around the work area. One final kick connected, and Adam let go of his friend, yelping in pain.

"Watch the knees, Belleci!" He bent over to tenderly rub the spot where Tory had kicked him. "I'm pretty bruised up."

Tory chuckled as he adjusted his shirt. "I heard you fell out of a plane on Saturday. Way to go, Slick."

Adam sneered at Tory. "I didn't fall," he said as he straightened himself out. "I jumped. And landed wrong."

They both laughed at the stupidity of the statement as Claire walked back into the work area, silently stalking past both men. She sat back down in the corner and picked her sketchbook back up from the floor.

"Oh, hey!" Tory said, lightly slapping Adam's shoulder. "I got something from a friend last night. It's still in my trunk. Come check it out."

They began to walk out toward the front of the shop, but were blocked by Jamie before they were able to even leave their work area.

"Adam," Jamie said gruffly. "You were on the drill press this morning, weren't you?"

Adam shrugged at Tory before responding. "Yeah," he said nervously.

Jamie motioned for the young man to follow him out of the room without making a sound. Tory nervously hung by the door, able to only watch as they continued to walk well out of ear shot. From his vantage point safely behind the doorway, Tory could see that their boss was not happy about something. He began lecturing, Adam able to only shake his head and shrug through Jamie's speech. It didn't take long for Adam to sulk off back to the metal room, leaving Jamie standing in the middle of the shop by himself. The older man glanced back to the model room, seeing Tory standing near the door. He began to make his way back, presumably to tear into Tory for some reason, but was stopped when Adam stomped back out of the metal room, red faced with clenched fists. Jamie motioned up stairs, and the two men made their way up to Jamie's office.

"Good riddance to bad rubbish," Claire said, causing Tory to jump slightly. He looked over, startled to find Claire standing by his side.

"You heartless fucking cunt," he spat out, surprised at the words that came out of his own mouth. "How the hell can you say something like that?"

"Because he's a moron." She returned to her spot in the corner and picked up her sketchbook.

Shaking his head, Tory stomped over to follow her, swatting the book from her hands. "What the hell, man?" he demanded. "If he loses his job, he'll lose his kids."

"Oh, my god," she said slowly. "He's reproduced?"

Tory bit his lip, holding himself back from slapping her. "Yeah," he said, nodding slightly. "Two little boys. But if you weren't such a self-centered bitch, and actually paid attention to what people tell you, rather than just talk about your stupid fucking cats all the time, you might actually know that!"

"What judge granted him custody in the first place?" Claire asked as she bent to pick up her sketchbook.

Tory felt his face grow hot. It took every erg of self-control to hold him back from decking her across the face. He'd never wanted anything more than he wanted to hurt her at that moment. A door -- Jamie's door -- slamming shut caused Tory to forget about Claire just then. He quickly spun around and got to the doorway just in time to see Adam rushing outside, obviously crying. Tory rushed out of the work area to follow after his friend, but changed his mind when he saw Jamie casually walking down the stairs.


Ω Ω Ω


Adam followed the older man across the shop, desperately trying to remember having left something out while he was in the metal room earlier that day.

"Adam, we've talked about slowing down when you work," Jamie said flatly.

"Yeah." He nodded slightly. He wished he knew what the problem was so he could properly argue his position.

"Is there anything you want to tell me?"

Adam felt his heart begin to race as he thought back to that morning. He couldn't remember even leaving anything out when he was done. "I honestly don't remember doing anything, but what ever it was, just take it out of my paycheck, I guess."

Jamie's eyes narrowed. "Adam. If you're lying to me--"

"No, Jamie," Adam pleaded, shaking his head. "I'm not. Really. I don't remember doing anything."

Jamie sighed. "I've told you so many times. You go too fast, and you don't pay attention. That's how things get destroyed. You're too hard on my stuff."

Adam started to reply, but bit his lip as his cell phone began to ring. Sighing again, Jamie shook his head.

"Go answer it."

Adam retreated back to the metal room before hitting the "talk" button on his phone. After a few seconds, he slowly shut the door, leaving Jamie standing in the middle of the shop alone. Jamie looked around, spotting Tory watching him from the model room. Afraid that Tory might start spreading rumors, he began to walk back to silence any ideas right away, but was stopped when the door to the metal room opened again. Adam's face was red, and he was visibly fighting back tears.

"Let's take this upstairs," Jamie said, letting Adam lead the way up to the second floor.

The ducked inside Jamie's office, Adam sitting in the chair in front of the desk.

"Adam, what was that?" Jamie asked as he sat down in his chair behind his desk.

Adam sniffled sharply. "She's suing for custody," he said, no longer able to fight back the surge of raw emotion. "Fucking bitch has been planning this for weeks and her lawyer just tells me today. I have to go in to court tomorrow." He tossed his glassed down on the desk and tried to dry his face with his hands. "What the fuck, man?"

Jamie shifted uneasily, not sure how to handle things suddenly. "Adam, if you need to, you can take a few days off."

Adam nodded, sniffling again. "Thanks," he said weakly.

"Do you want me to be there?" Jamie asked uneasily. "I don't know how these things work, but..."

"I dunno," Adam said. "If I'd had more warning, I might be able to figure out what to do. I don't even have a fucking lawyer."

"Things'll be fine," the older man said, knowing that it probably was going to be just the opposite. "Why don't you go home? I'll call Irene and have her drive the kids home."

Adam nodded. He stood up, wiping his face with his hands again. Quickly snatching up his glasses, he rushed out of Jamie's office, just wanting to be alone so he could clear his head. He was aware that he was slamming doors and stomping around, but he didn't care. You're allowed to make noise when your ex threatens to take your kids away. Jamie got up to follow him downstairs, making sure he didn't break anything as he rushed out to his car. He intended to follow him all the way out, but was stopped by Tory.

"Jamie, please," the young man said as he practically hung off of Jamie's shirt. "Don't fire Adam. He's been having a really rough time with his ex, and he's just been distracted. He'll lose his kids if he doesn't keep this job. Jamie, please--"

"Tory, shut up!" Jamie barked as he shoved him out of the way. He turned to walk back to the model room, stopping at the door. "Claire, get the fuck out of my shop," he said.

Claire shook her head and scoffed. "What did I do?" she demanded.

"It doesn't matter," Jamie said. "At this point, you're trespassing. Get out before I call the police."

She jumped up from her spot in the corner, screaming as she rushed out of the model room. She shoved Tory, nearly knocking him to the ground as she made her way to the door.

"And don't even think about stopping at your locker!" Jamie shouted. "You forget I have cameras installed all over this place!"

She shouted again and barreled out the door, letting it slam shut behind her. As she rushed to her car, she passed by Adam's sedan, kicking the door a few times, startling the man inside. Adam lurched forward and slammed his hand down on the horn, effectively startling her into running toward her own car. Hearing the blaring horn out in the parking lot, Tory rushed outside to make sure no one had gotten hurt. He opened the door just in time to see Claire's import peeling out into the street. Looking over to Adam's usual parking spot, he found his friend with his head cradled in his hands, the radio in his car blaring. Tory slowly approached the car and knocked on the passenger window. Without looking up, Adam reached over and unlocked the door before turning the radio down to a tolerable level.

"Adam, man, that's just not fair," Tory said as he slid into the passenger seat. "I'm gonna talk to Jamie about getting your job back. He shouldn't have fired you over that."

Adam looked up at Tory, shaking his head slightly. "Tory, what the fuck are you talking about?" he asked. "Nobody got fired...Well, maybe Claire just did, the way she peeled out." He rubbed his face dry again.

"So, then... what's up, then?" Tory asked cautiously.

Shaking his head, Adam replaced his glasses and look at himself in the mirror. "I have to go to court tomorrow," he said. "Lynn's suing for custody."

"Oh, my god. I'm so sorry," Tory said. "Do you want me to drive you home?"

Adam looked up, slightly shocked at the offer. "What about you?" he asked. "It's only noon. How are you gonna get back here?"

Tory shook his head. "I'll take a cab. It's a fifteen-dollar fare. No big deal." He opened the door and stepped out onto the pavement. "I'm gonna go let Jamie know that I'll be back in a little bit," he said before shutting the door and trotting back into the shop.


Ω Ω Ω


Adam lay stretched out on the sofa with his face buried in his hands while Simon and Dexter ran around in the kitchen. He couldn't understand how they could possibly wake up so early when they stayed home, but put up such a fuss when he needed them up early. He felt small fingers pry his own hands from his face, and opened his eyes to see Simon looking up at him.

"Why you sleepin, Daddy?" he asked.

"Because Daddy doesn't feel good," Adam groaned.

Simon climbed up onto the sofa, barely giving Adam time to move out of the way. He reached up to the arm rest and grabbed Adam's glasses, looking at the tape wrapped around the temple piece before awkwardly sliding them onto his father's face. Adam forced a smile as he reached up to adjust them.

"Yes, I have a headache. Thank you."

He closed his eyes again to try to fall back asleep, barely aware that Simon had laid down next to him. Realizing he had been left alone for good, Dexter wandered out to the living room and turned on the television.

"Keep it low," Adam mumbled.

"Okay," Dexter said as he fumbled with the remote control. He flipped through the channels until he found an old animated show and climbed up onto the other arm of the large sectional.

The small amount of peace Adam had been lucky to get was short-lived, interrupted by a quick knock on the door. Dexter jumped down from the sofa and ran across the room to the window, pushing the curtain out of the way to look out on the porch.

"Dad! Jamie's here!" He shouted. "Let him in!"

Adam grumbled as he sat up and pulled himself to his feet. He stumbled over to the door and unlatched the locks, half-heartedly swinging it open.

"I thought Irene was coming over," he said as he shuffled back over to the sofa.

Jamie shook his head. "She woke up pretty sick this morning," he explained. After the previous day's calamity, he felt uneasy about leaving the shop unattended, and had to remind himself that Jen was perfectly able to handle almost any situation that could arise. "I can handle it."

Adam glanced up at him skeptically, positive that Jamie had no idea what he was getting himself into. "She sure picked one hell of a day to get sick." He noticed a black bag hanging from Jamie's arm. "What's that?" he asked.

Jamie looked down at the bag before draping it over the back of the sofa. "I took a gamble that you don't have a good suit," he said. "It's Irene's brother's. You're about his size."

Adam snorted. "You should go to Vegas. You'd be a millionaire."

Jamie sat down, the boys immediately beginning to climb all over him. He did his best to ignore them, focusing his attention on his friend. "What time's the hearing?" he asked.

"Two," Adam said numbly. He glanced up at the home-made clock on the wall. "I should probably get ready, actually."

He sighed and heaved himself back up to his feet. He picked up the bag on the back of the sofa and sulked up the stairs, leaving Jamie to deal with the boys.

"Did you lose your truck again?" Dexter asked, tugging on Jamie's hand.

"No."

"Then why are you here?" Dexter looked up through messy blond hair. Jamie figured the kid must have been afraid of clippers, since his brother's hair was cut about as short as Adam's.

"Because your dad has to go do something today." He sat in silence as the boys kept asking his questions. He hoped by maybe pretending to ignore them, they'd calm down and lose interest. When the boys refused to relent, Jamie began seriously regretting his decision to watch after them, even if only for a couple of hours. He should have made Tory do it. "Here," he said, lifting both kids off his lap. He deposited them on the sofa and stood up before they had time to climb on him again. "Watch the Coyote, here. I gotta go talk to your dad."

Jamie walked slowly to the stairs, cautiously looking over his shoulder to make sure the boys stayed where he left them. They seemed to be interested enough in the homicidal coyote to stay put. He found one of the upstairs doors hanging slightly ajar and pushed it open, hearing the sound of a running faucet somewhere in the room. He looked around what seemed to be Adam's bedroom and knocked on the wall slightly.

"Back here," Adam said over the running water.

Jamie made his way across the room to the attached bathroom, finding Adam standing in front of the sink wearing old black socks and the dark blue trousers lent by Irene's brother. The older man sat on the bed, unable to help but appreciating how well the trousers fit the young man. He watched silently as Adam carefully shaved, gingerly working the razor around his short goatee and under his glasses.

"I can't believe I broke my fucking glasses," he muttered at his reflection. "I don't even have a second pair."

"Shouldn't your insurance cover that?" Jamie asked, trying to sound casual.

"I don't have insurance," Adam admitted. "The boys do, but I have a habit of not keeping jobs long enough to be eligible for it." He heaved a frustrated sigh as he cleaned out his razor under the running water and dried his face. "I'm careful enough."

Jamie dreaded to think what "reckless" would look like by the young man's standards as Adam turned off the water and made his way to a tall dresser in the corner of the room. He pulled open the top drawer and dug out a white tank-top.

"You sure you're gonna be alright with the boys?" he asked as he pulled the tank over his head and tucked the hem into his trousers. "I mean... I'm sure I can take them with me."

Jamie shook his head. "Out of the question," he said. "They don't need to know what's going on right now. They wouldn't understand anyway."

Adam nodded as he made his way to the small closet. He reached into the assortment of hanging garments, pulling out the one white collared shirt from the sea of black and brightly coloured shirts.

"You got a tie in that mess?" Jamie asked. "I didn't think to grab one."

Adam thought for a moment and sighed. "I got... one." He reached behind the sliding doors, letting his fingers hunt through the maze of fabric before finally settling on the soft silk. He pulled it out and sheepishly showed the blue and purple stripe design to Jamie.

"That's fine," Jamie said, nodding slightly. "The suit's blue, so it won't look too crazy."

"I thought it was black." Adam moved close to the lamp on his night stand and looked down at the trousers. "Huh. It is blue." Quickly snatching up his belt and jacket from the bed, he walked out of the room and slowly made his way downstairs. He quickly glanced around the bottom level, spotting the boys playing with an egg beater under the kitchen table. "Hey. Guys," he said as he knelt down.

"Are you going on a date?" Dexter asked, sounding mildly grossed-out.

"No," Adam insisted with a small chuckle.

"Then why are you getting dressed up?" Simon took advantage of the diversion and snatched the egg beater from his brother's hands.

"Because I have to go do icky grown-up stuff," Adam explained. "Jamie's gonna stay here with you while I'm gone. Be nice to him, okay?" Both boys looked down at the floor. "Listen to me," Adam said seriously. "He's in charge. You do what he says. Okay?"

"Okay," both boys said defeatedly.

"I'll be back in a few hours. You be good." He reached under the table to mess with Dexter's hair, but both boys scrambled away, laughing wildly. Shaking his head, Adam got back to his feet and walked back out to the living room to finish getting dressed. Jamie was in the corner of the sectional, flipping through the endless cartoon channels cable seemed to offer. "There's no reason for them to go upstairs," Adam explained as he pulled his shirt on. "At all. If you decide to feed them, they're kind of fussy, but if you don't give in, they'll eat it. I don't care if they eat it all; just that they take a few bites of everything. If they don't at least do that, they don't get snacks later." He messed with the buttons, realizing that everything was off, causing him to start over. "They can go outside, but the fence needs to be fixed, so make sure they stay in the yard. The locks on both doors are high enough that they can't reach them." Sitting down to pull on a fairly old pair of wingtips, he tried to remember anything else that may cause problems. "Uhh... Oh. There's no need to worry about them getting into anything nasty. Cleaners and stuff are all locked up, so anything they do manage to get into won't hurt them. Try not to let them climb on the counters. And be sure--"

"Adam," Jamie said, cutting him off. "I'll be fine. It's just a few hours."

Adam looked at his friend nervously. "Are you sure?" he asked. "I mean, you don't have much experience with you kids, do you?"

Jamie shook his head honestly. "No," he said. "But I used to be a dog walker for a big sheepdog. How much more difficult could it be?"

The young man groaned and shook his head lightly. "Jamie. Please, please, please don't treat my kids like dogs."

"I won't," Jamie insisted. "You'd better get going. This is one thing you really can't be late for."

Adam glanced up at the clock and nodded. Reaching up to his ear, he quickly unfastened his earring. Pulling off the matching pinkie ring from his left hand, he put both trinkets on the shelf by the door. "I'm taking my cellphone," he said as he gathered up the jacket and tie. "It won't be on, but if you need anything, just leave a message."

Jamie pulled himself up from the sofa and walked over to his friend, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Hey," he said. "Good luck in there."

Adam could feel that familiar, heavy knot forming in his throat. He had to get out of the house before he started to cry again. The boys didn't need to see that. They didn't even know anything was wrong. "Thanks," he said, nodding. "I mean that." Snatching up his keys from the shelf, he threw the door open and rushed out to his car.

Jamie glanced over his shoulder at the boys in the kitchen and leaned against the sofa. Snatching up the remote, he turned down the television so he could hear listen for Adam's car to start. Once he finally heard the engine turn over, Jamie turned back to the kitchen, spotting the boys once again camped out under the table with various utensils and Tupperwear containers on the floor around them. Before he could take two steps toward the kitchen, one of the boys snatched a mason jar lid from his brother.

"Give it back!" the boy shrieked, lunging for the stolen part.

Startled, Jamie rushed into the kitchen to see what had suddenly happened. "Hey, now," he said as he lowered himself down to see both children clearly. "What do you want with that, anyway? I know you have real toys. You keep leaving them over at my place."

"But he took it from me!" the bigger kid with messy hair said.

"So take it back." No sooner had he said the words, Jamie realized it was a mistake. The boy lunged at the other and began screaming at a pitch that Jamie was certain could shatter glass if it went on for much longer. He reached under the table and tried to separate the squabbling children. "Hey, Simon! Don't hit your brother!"

"I'm not Simon!" the messy-haired boy shouted.

"Okay, well, Dexter. Don't hit your brother," He reached under the table and picked up both children. "Go find a movie, and I'll hook up the DVD player."

He released both children into the living room and bent again to pick up the mess on the floor. Knowing there wasn't time to put any of it into the dish washer, he carefully piled everything onto the counter. Returning to the living room, he realized that one of the kids had already gone missing. A quick, frantic glance around the house lead him to an open door near the stairs. Fairly sure that the door was previously closed, Jamie made his way back to the room, finding himself in Adam's studio. More importantly, he found the missing child messing with an open bottle of green paint.

"Dexter," he sighed as he walked across the floor.

"I'm not Dexter!" the boy shouted.

Before Jamie could get to the child, he emptied the bottle of paint onto the floor and ran. At least Adam had been smart enough to lay heavy-duty vinyl over the wood flooring. Jamie managed to snatch up the child before he made a break to the living room, and hefted him into the bathroom.

"I don't care who you are," he said as he turned on the sink. "You're a complete mess, now." As he quickly washed the paint off of the boy's face and hands, he allowed himself to breathe a small sigh of relief. Water-based acrylics were a blessing from heaven. The paint came off of his skin easily enough, but the boy's shirt was probably ruined. As he made sure none of the paint got in the child's eyes, the sharp splash of breaking glass cut over the noise from the sink. Swearing under his breath, Jamie quickly grabbed a towel from the rack and dried off the kid as best as possible. He quickly turned off the water and rushed out to the kitchen, finding Adam's other blond Tasmanian devil climbing up on the counter, where everything from the floor had been previously stacked in a neat pile.

"Simon!"

"I'm not Simon!"

Holding back from actually growling, Jamie carefully made his way around the broken glass shrapnel to the child. As soon as he reached the counter to take the kid to the relative safety of the living room, he heard what sounded too much for comfort like the shower beginning to run.

Ω Ω Ω


Adam stayed hunched over in the driver's seat of his battle-worn sedan, his face buried in his hands. He didn't have to glance at the clock on the dashboard to know that he was still way early. Traffic on the 101 had been rather tame for a weekday lunch hour, making the drive to San Jose under forty minutes. He rested his forehead against the steering wheel as he tried to pull himself together.

"I can do this," he said to himself.

Exhaling sharply through his nose, he sat up straight and fastened the top button on his shirt, flipping up his collar. Quickly grabbing his tie from the passenger seat, he wrapped it around his neck and easily tied a neat triangular knot. He tilted the rear view mirror down so he could get it properly straightened and tucked the small end of the tie in between the second and third buttons of his shirt. The knot always looked fine, but he could never get the length right. Snatching up his jacket from the seat next to him, he stepped out of the car and into the unbearably hot parking structure. He quickly walked up to the doors and slid into his jacket, only to have to take it right back off again to pass through the metal detector.

"You gotta do this for family court?" he asked as the guard handed him a small plastic tub for anything in his pockets. He quickly took off his belt and pulled out his cellphone and wallet, depositing them into the tub.

"It's a government building, sir," the guard responded as he placed the tub on the conveyor belt. "You wouldn't believe how many lunatics we get in here, anyway."

Adam pushed that thought around in his mind as he passed through the metal detector. "Makes sense," he said absently, gathering up his few belongings. He quickly re-attached his simple black leather belt and turned off his phone and clipped it to the back of his waist band, making sure that it sat snugly inside his trousers before sliding his wallet into his pocket and slipping back into the jacket. He slowly wandered up to the front desk, finding a young intern at the computer.

"Can I help you?" the young kid asked. He looked maybe nineteen.

"Uhhh, yeah," Adam said, pulling a slip of paper out of his pocket. "Where would I find Judge Crowley? I've got a hearing at two."

The intern quickly consulted a clipboard, running his finger down a long list of names. "Two thirty five. Second floor," he said, nodding lightly.

"Thanks." Adam tapped the tall counter and made his way to the stairs down the corridor. He slowly scaled the steps, forcing himself to focus on the elegant patterns in the wood rather than the landing above. When he finally reached the landing, he looked down the hall, finding it relaxingly empty. A placard on the wall directed him to the right. He walked slowly down the wide hall, finding his room number near the end. Peering in the window, he could see a hearing taking place. It seemed calm enough; the judge -- he couldn't help but notice that the judge was female -- was talking at great lengths about something, but he couldn't hear through the door.

Feeling like he was eavesdropping on something very private, Adam stepped over to a bench against the wall and sat down, hoping to be able to calm himself a little. Almost as soon as he sat, the door to the court room opened, and people began slowly shuffling out. An older woman in the group looked highly distraught. Adam only needed wonder for a few seconds before a high school-aged boy was led away in handcuffs. Slightly shocked that they did that in family court, Adam realized that they probably held juvenile offender cases in the building as well. He tried not to seem like he was overly interested in the family milling about in front of him, but wasn't sure where else to look. He began examining the stitching on his shoes, realizing that he probably should have at least borrowed a newer pair. He'd been wearing that particular pair for formal events ever since his junior prom. Telling himself that no one would look at his shoes, he tucked his feet beneath the bench, turning his attention back the the family from the court room, but they had begun shuffling off to the elevators. Finding himself once more alone in the hallway, he found himself wishing that there was a magazine or newspaper near by. Anything to take his mind off of the agonizingly slow passage of time.

Hearing the clicking of footsteps, he looked up, wishing he could amend his previous wish. Groaning, he buried his face in his hands and leaned against the wall.

"What the hell is he doing here?" he demanded as Lynn approached with a tall man with hair pulled back in a pony tail.

"Adam, I have the right to bring whoever the hell I want," she informed him."I don't need your permission." She squeezed her boyfriend's hand assuringly before taking a step closer to Adam. "Since when do you own a suit?"

Forcing a laugh, Adam shook his head. "Since I started making friends of my own," he said. "That was the plan, wasn't it? For me to show up in Dockers and a leather jacket. Make me look like some fucking loser." He stood up and took a few steps away from the other two.

"You're such a goddamn drama queen," Lynn said. She and her boyfriend sat down on the bench, almost daring Adam to sit as well. "You always have been."

"Whatever," he said. "I don't need you."

Lynn jumped to her feet and took a step toward Adam. "You fucking Irish punk," she said as she shook her head. "I should have left you back in Yonkers where I found you."

"Left me?" Adam said, closing the gap. "Left me? As I recall, you begged me to get you out of New York. I was your ticket to paradise. What? Wasn't the west coast everything you'd imagined? Couldn't make it on your own so you had to hang off of me for a few more years?"

Adam snorted before she could answer and started walking toward the end of the hall in an effort to put more distance between himself and the other two. He had to keep himself together, and he couldn't do that if she kept poking at him. He couldn't help but wonder if maybe she was right about being too dramatic. No. That's what she wanted him to do. Pushing the thought out of his head, he walked back to where the happy couple sat and leaned against the wall.

"I--I just have to know," he forced himself to say. "When did you stop loving me?"

She barely had to think about it. Hardly a good sign. "At Kath and Tim's anniversary party," she said. "You and that other guy took off for three hours, and came back completely fucking smashed."

Adam could feel himself shaking. He pulled his hair on the back of his head and groaned slightly. Keeping himself together had suddenly gotten very hard. "That was two years ago!" he said, forcing that knot his his throat back down. "Is that when you ran off to Roy's bed?" He threw his hand wildly at the man by Lynn's side, unable to look at either of them in the face.

"It's Ron," Lynn corrected through her teeth.

"What the fuck ever." Wiping his face, Adam quickly made his way down the hall to the men's room. He was in tears again before he even managed to throw the heavy wooden door open. Tossing his glasses down on the counter, Adam turned on the water in the closest sink and leaned against the faux marble. Two fucking years. As he splashed water on his face, he couldn't help but wonder what else he'd been lied to about. He hated to admit it, but maybe everyone knew what they were talking about when they'd said to wait a few years.

"You're Irish?"

Adam jumped, noticing Ron standing a few feet away. He hadn't even heard the door open over the noise of the running water. It was bad enough that he was there to begin with, but now the bastard was talking? Exasperated, Adam sighed and shook his head.

"No, my grand parents came up here from Brazil," he said flatly. "What the fuck do you want?"

"Adam, I just...I had no idea she was married until she filed for divorce," he said uneasily. "I never knew I was hurting anyone."

Adam scoffed and shook his head. "That's an awful long time to be fucking someone and not know they're married." He pulled a paper towel out of the dispenser and dried his face. "And yet, you're still fucking her. No one stays with a person after that kind of bomb is dropped unless they knew already." He grabbed his glasses from the counter and slid them onto his face. "You must think I'm an even bigger idiot than she does."

"Adam, I'm serious," Ron pleaded. "I never meant to hurt anyone."

Why was he still talking? Adam stepped up close to the man, who, despite being several inches taller than the younger man, moved back slightly. "I fucking hate you," Adam said flatly. "I had no idea I was capable of ever feeling that way about another person, but I do. Before I even knew your name, I hated you. Don't fucking talk to me any more."

He shoved past the other man and stepped back out to the hall, finding two men with suits and heavy briefcases standing outside the court room. He could only assume that they were lawyers, as one was having a conversation with Lynn, and the other stood off to the side checking his watch. The man standing by himself noticed Adam step into the hall and rushed over, nearly knocking into him.

"Mister Savage?" he asked.

Adam nodded. "Yeah."

"Oh, good," the guy said. "I thought you weren't gonna show. I'm Greg Paulson. I've been assigned to your case." Adam absently nodded as Greg shook his hand. He started talking about procedure, but quickly noticed that Adam wasn't listening at all. "Hey, I understand if you're nervous," he said quietly. "I'd be worried if you weren't."

Adam smiled weakly and nodded. "I'm fucking terrified," he admitted. "I was just made aware of this whole mess yesterday."

Greg frowned. "I was handed your file about a week ago. How did you only find out yesterday?"

Sighing lightly, Adam shrugged. "I don't know," he said. "I mean, I haven't gotten the chance to get down to the DMV yet and change my address on my driver's license. Her lawyer called me yesterday while I was at work and told me to be here."

Greg started to say something again, but the courtroom door behind them was opened, diverting his attention. "We gotta go in," he said, checking his watch.

He led Adam into the small court room, directing him to take the table on the right. Glancing over at the other table, he noticed Ron sitting down next to Lynn and her lawyer.

"I don't want him in here," Adam said flatly. "Can they make him leave?"

Greg nodded, but before he could say anything further, the court services officer walked over to escort the man from the court room.

"Can I sit in the back?" he asked.

"No, sir," The man said as he led Ron out to the hall. Once making sure that everyone of importance was present, he stepped back behind his small desk in the corner and quickly scribbled down a quick note, just as a door in the back of the room opened. "All rise," the officer said.

The small group quickly got to their feet as an older dark-haired woman stepped up behind the bench, followed by a stenographer. Once the judge was seated, the rest of the people in the room settled themselves.

"Okay," Judge Crowley said as she looked over a small file. "We're here for a custody dispute over twin three year old boys, correct?"

Greg nodded. "Correct, your honour."

Nodding, Crowley continued to look at the file. "This is different," she said, raising her eyebrows slightly. "Mister Savage, you currently have custody of the children?"

Adam nodded nervously. "Yes, your honour."

"You've had the kids for six months, but now Missus Savage is requesting full custody?"

Lynn's lawyer nodded. "Yes, your honour."

"What happened in those six months?" Crowley asked.

"I needed time to clear my head and get my life back together," Lynn explained. "But he doesn't keep jobs for very long, and it's not the most stable environment for the kids."

Adam sighed and tried not to roll his eyes. He wondered if spin was considered lying, but realized it wouldn't have made a difference anyway since they hadn't taken any oath. "Uhh, your honour," Adam said once he was fairly certain that he wouldn't be interrupting. He waited to continue until he got some sort of go-ahead from Crowley. "I do a lot of free-lance work for movies and commercials," he said, trying to defend himself. "I may not always be working five days a week, but I can make more on one job than someone on minimum wage makes in a month. And I did just get a somewhat permanent thing working for a company, rather than just hiring myself out." He tried not to glare across the room at Lynn, instead focusing on a small golden eagle up on the bench.

"Somewhat permanent?" Crowley asked. "What's that?"

"Uhh, well," he started. "Right now, I do work nine-to-five, five days a week, but I'll only be there as long as the company keeps getting model contracts. If they don't have anything that I know how to do, I don't work, then. But they'll call me back when they get more modeling contracts. But I am learning more about other skills, and once the owner thinks I'm competent enough, I'll be able to work on other types of projects."

Crowley nodded understandingly. She didn't seem to comprehend the finer points, but what Adam said seemed to make enough sense for her to drop the issue. "Okay," she said, gathering up the papers and slipping them back into the folder. "Normally, custody of children this young would go to the mother, but since they seem to have settled into a stable routine with their father, and their mother willingly gave up custody at the divorce, I see this case fit to continue to trial," she said. She glanced over at the court services officer to her left and took a small note from him. "I'll see you all back here August third at eleven o'clock." As she stood, everyone else got to their feet and waited as she left the room.

"Wait, what just happened?" Adam asked before Greg had the chance to leave the room.

"Adam, this is a good thing," Greg assured. "A lot of dads don't get this far, so you've got a really good shot. She probably has another case at two-thirty, is all."

Nothing about Greg's rambling cleared up his confusion in the least. "But nothing happened."

The lawyer shook his head and smiled. "She probably thought this would be a real short one. To be honest, so did I. The paperwork says that it's a custody dispute involving a barely-employed father. On paper, chronically unemployed looks exactly the same as serious free-lancing."

Adam nodded slowly, finally starting to understand. "Okay," he said. "So, we come back here in like, two weeks and finish all this up, then?"

Greg nodded. "You got it!"

Before Adam could question any further, Greg slipped out to the hallway and out to go do whatever it was child services lawyers did between hearings.

It was barely three-thirty when Adam pulled into the driveway; far too early for him to feel as exhausted as he did. As he climbed out of his car, he realized that he could hear the television from the living room. Not a good sign at all. Sighing, he swung the car door shut and quickly climbed the stairs to the front door. He unlocked the door and pushed it open, hoping that they'd just left the television on way too loud. He hadn't expected to find duct tape all over the couch and green foot prints on the wood floor. He groaned to himself as he hung the jacket on a hook by the door.

"What the hell, man?" he asked as he tried to find the remote control. After a few seconds, he gave up, opting to just hit the power button on the television instead.

"Good!" he heard Jamie say from the kitchen. "Your dad's home."

Adam quickly made his way for the kitchen, finding it an even bigger disaster than usual. The boys saw his arrival and quickly ran under the table, surprised when Adam got down on all fours to drag them back out. "You guys are in a lot of trouble!" he snapped. Unable to carry both boys at once, he quickly led them out to the living room and deposited them each on opposite ends of the large sectional. He barely had the frame of mind to even notice the green paint and red marker all over both children."Not a word!"

Feeling his face grow hot, he turned to see Jamie walking toward the bathroom to turn on the sink.

"Jamie, man," Adam said, following him. "I'm really sorry. I tried to warn you."

"Yeah," Jamie said, looking at himself in the mirror. "I know. I don't know what happened. As soon as you left, it's like they changed into little werewolves or something."

Adam bit his lip and exhaled heavily through his nose. "I'm really sorry," he repeated. "You should have called me. I'd have found someone else to come take over." He looked up at Jamie, noticing what the older man was so focused on. "Is that gum?"

Jamie sighed as he tried to pick more of the pink mess out of his mustache. "Yes, it's gum."

"Here," Adam said, trying to stifle laughter. He opened up one of the doors to the medicine cabinet and pulled out a small orange tub. Shutting the door slightly, he unscrewed the tub and scooped out a small bit of sorbet-coloured paste.

"Adam, that's engine degreaser," Jamie said flatly.

"I know," Adam replied as he smeared the paste into Jamie's facial hair. "But it works for this, too. You've got green on you." He pointed to Jamie's shirt collar, which was smeared with green paint.

"Yeah, I know. This has happened before?"

Adam shook his head and sighed. "I really am sorry," he said. "They're not usually this bad, but you're new. They just wanted to see how far they could push you." He scooped out a small amount more from the tub. "They pushed pretty far from the looks of it. Oh! Dexter!" he shouted, barely turning his head toward the living room. "You sit yourself back down right now! Yeah, you can kick your feet all you want, but you stay right there."

Jamie quickly looked out to the living room to see Dexter slumping back into the sofa. "How did you know he was getting up?" he asked, bewildered.

Adam smiled. "I'm their dad. I know everything... That, and I can see them in the mirror, here."

Jamie stepped over to where Adam stood, seeing that the entire living room was visible in the mirror. "Huh," he said to himself. He couldn't help but laugh slightly. "I'm really sorry about the mess," he said. "Once I caught up with one, the other one was already in another room messing with something else." He sighed. "I was gonna go straight back to the shop after this, but I'm just gonna call Jen and have her lock up," he said. "I'll help you clean up around here, since this mess is kind of my fault."

"Thanks," Adam said, smiling honestly for the first time all day.

"Oh! I completely forgot to ask. I'm sorry," Jamie said as he turned on the sink again. "How did it go?" He carefully began rinsing the degreaser out of his facial hair, finding that it did indeed remove the gum as well.

"Pretty good, I think," Adam said, grabbing a towel from under the sink to begin drying up the water from the floor. "Nothing really got accomplished aside from deciding that I need to go back in about two weeks. I guess that's a good sign."

Jamie nodded. "That's great!" He pulled another towel from under the sink and dried himself off, thrilled that he hadn't had to cut the gum out of his mustache. Once his face was dry, he bent over to help clean up the flood from the shower.

"Daddy..." Simon said timidly.

Adam looked up, making sure he was still on the sofa. "You got something to say to Jamie?" he asked. He watched as the young boy shifted nervously.

"I'm sorry I gotted paint on you and gotted gum on your face," he said quietly.

Adam looked up at his friend. "Your call," he said.

The older man sighed. He was far too old to try to learn how this whole "parenting" thing worked. "Just... don't let it happen again," he said gruffly.

"Okay," the young boy answered.

Adam bent down to finish sopping up the water. "Now go to your room," he said. "You're getting a bath as soon as we clean up this mess." Simon slowly got down from the sofa and shuffled off to the bedroom he and his brother shared. "Dexter," Adam said, getting up the last of the water from the floor. "Do you have anything to say?" The boy let his silence answer for him. "He'll take longer," Adam explained to his friend. "He always does. I'm not sure why."

"Oh," Jamie said, still shocked at how quickly he had gotten the boys to settle down. He took both towels to the laundry room and began walking around the kitchen and living room, picking up errant bits of duct tape. Adam wandered out of the bathroom and began going up the stairs after a few seconds.

"I'm gonna go change so I don't mess up these pants," he said. "Were you gonna stay for dinner, since you're not going back to the shop?"

Jamie didn't miss the slightly needy tone in Adam's voice. "Sure," he said, pulling his cell phone from his pocket. "I'm gonna make a couple of quick calls while you're up there.