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I didn't particularly want to sit at the train station for six hours, but I guess it was either that or sit at home doing absolutely nothing for the same amount of time. At least here, at Pennsylvania Station, I could watch the people come and go. It's one of the great things about crowded places like this – always something going on. Upstairs, near the pretzel shop, a thirty-something was playing his electric fiddle for spare change, and just down the tunnel, near the NJ Transit train stations, a woman was playing a dulcimer, singing in dulcet tones that demanded attention.

Even without the sounds, you still had the crazies. Those guys and gals dressed in outrageous outfits, ones that might have seemed out of place anywhere else, but in the heart of Penn Station seemed completely natural. And those glam gals stuck in the 80s, walking by the stocking/lingerie shop and glancing in, noses scrunched in pretend disinterest. Of course, there were also the drag queens, some of them almost completely indistinguishable from real women. Everyone just had someplace to go, and no one really looked twice at what you were wearing.

Except me, but that was only because I was bored out of my mind waiting around for a specific train to finally arrive. And it was taking way too damn long, since I had already walked around the entire complex at least twice, made friendly with some of the post 9/11 security detail, shared a performance with dulcimer lady, and been out onto the street level for a some fresh, winter air (or, rather, New York City air – smog and cigarette smoke ahoy!). I was starting to get antsy, and I hate feeling antsy. It's right up there with feeling "completely out of control", which is probably my least favourite state of being. But sometimes things just go crazy.

Like the weather in Colorado. Or the complete and total ******** Amtrak system. And right now, it seemed like both these factors were working against me spectacularly. Because the train was late. And I was late for work. On top of that, I didn't doubt that the stupid cat was at the door howling for entrance from the freak ******** snow storm that decided to blow in – delaying the stupid train more. All in all, it was safe to say that, despite my amusement at the characters you find in Penn Station, I wasn't enjoying myself. At all.

In fact, anyone who saw me would probably describe me as "sulking like a petulant child", mostly since that's what Sebastian said when his train finally got in and he snuck up behind me, the jerk.

"I told you I was sorry, love." I think it may have been the tenth time he said it. We were on the subway, heading home. I had wanted to take a cab; he had wanted to walk. So we compromised – though I'm still not sure cramped in a tin can was better than sitting in the relative comfort of a cab. But the train was faster than both his way and mine, so it all worked out.

And I got to watch these two guys in drag argue over god-knows-what. Probably shoes. It always goes back to shoes. But maybe that's a little insensitive of me. Anyway, I couldn't help but think that Sebastian would look down-right ridiculous in women's clothing.

"Next time, don't take the train. I mean, seriously."

Sebastian grabbed my hand, running his thumb across it distractedly. The old lady sitting across from us eyed our hands like they were monsters. I ignored her. "It was the only thing leaving Denver. Planes were grounded, and I'd sooner walk than take a Greyhound."

I scrunched my nose, "Good point."

"And beside, it's not as though I asked the conductor to be late." He lifted my hand to his lips, gently kissing my knuckles. It was hard to stay pissed at him when he did s**t like that. I blame his chivalrous charm or at least the fact that he's one smooth b*****d. The old lady seemed to be scandalized, so I gave her something to really feel disturbed by – I pulled Sebastian toward me and gave him a soft kiss.

He grinned at me, and I laughed at the old lady's expression. "I guess I forgive you."

The lady got off at the next stop. Right after that, the two drag queens got off. Pretty soon, it was only Sebastian and I on board, which definitely wasn't a bad thing. I had missed him, and I didn't want to have a punch of random people watching our every move.

"So, what are we gonna do when we get home?" I wrapped my arms around his waist, leaning on him as the train bucked and bounced back and forth on the tracks. I felt more than saw him smile.

"That depends – would you rather I talk about my trip… or perhaps you have an activity in mind?" His voice was absolutely dripping with sexual innuendo, and it was exactly what I was hoping for. Seriously, two weeks without him around had been torture. Especially with Brennan – coming in and out of the house willy-nilly and me pretty much working three shifts a day at the morgue. Sometimes I was really pissed at my sister for getting herself knocked up and eligible for maternity leave. It meant I had to stay on call all ******** day and night. But I'm not gonna dwell on that – Sebastian offered sex. That's good enough for me, and to hell with work.

I smirked, my voice coming out in a purr, "Mmm, I say we take a nice, long, hot shower and then maybe later you can tell me about your adventure in the Mile High City."

15 minutes later found us hastily unlocking the door and latched at the lips as we stumbled inside. I vaguely noted that the cat came running in, but I was too busy holding Sebastian's face in my hands, and he was too busy practically carrying me in to really pay any attention to it. My hat hit the floor with a soft thump only to be joined by both our winter coats. He pulled away from my lips long enough to kiss at my jaw-line and hiss out my name lustfully. We barely made it up the stairs in one piece, but with a bit of clever manoeuvring, and some fierce determination, we fell into bed together.

Needless to say, the shower came later.

It was the next day before Sebastian and I had any real, meaningful conversation. That's not to say we didn't talk – we always talk about something. But it wasn't until the next morning, as I made some coffee, that he and I finally got around to discussing his trip to Denver.

He trailed into the kitchen in a bit of a daze, and it was obvious that he was actually tied. Probably something to do with jetlag. Can vampires suffer from jetlag? Well, let's just say they can and get on with it. Sebastian shuffled in, wearing only his flannel pyjama bottoms and these horrible slippers I bought him as a gag gift for our anniversary (which happened to double as my birthday. Go figure). They were bright pink and had embroidered monkeys shouting "Monkey Princess" on them. I can honestly say I was completely shocked that he would actually wear them.

He noticed that I was staring at them and smiled, "I find that if I don't look at them, they're quite nice."

I rolled my eyes, putting my mug down on the counter and eyeing him with appreciation, "I think you might be the only man to ever pull that ensemble off without looking like a total douche. Impressive."

"Mm, yes, well. My entire purpose is to impress you."

"Speaking of impressing me, how did you manage to put up with the second branch of your descendents?" I asked, laughing at his look of resigned disgust.

"If I never have to visit them again, it will be too soon." He sighed, running a hand over his face, "Absolutely worthless, the entire trip. The oldest of them still living wouldn't stop grovelling, and the younger group had this 'don't look your elders in the eye' syndrome that did nothing but irritate me. The only positive thing about it was that the parents of the newest addition were polite, strong-willed, and didn't hesitate to talk to me."

I grinned at him, before turning back toward the counter, "So d'ya wish you had dragged me along now?"

He groaned, walking forward and draping himself over my shoulders and back, "I'll never go without you again. Especially to the fourth branch. They live in Alabama."

"Fun. Hey, speaking of descendents, the twins sent me a, and I quote, 'Time lag Christmas card'." I laughed, pointing to the badly folded, messily coloured card on the fridge, "It's so bad it's cute." I guess they figured they were making up for lost time with it.

He let out a little chuckle, one that rumbled through my spine, "It's still very odd to know that you're a father."

"You're tellin' me." I sighed, "If they hadn't been tested, I wouldn't've believed it. But since they were… well, can't deny it, now can I?"

Sebastian's lips traced a path along my shoulder, and I leaned back against him. His arms wandered down to my waist, playing with the elastic band of my own pyjamas as he whispered, "No, seems you can't."

I hummed, turning in his grip and kissing him full on the lips. By this point his hands had dipped beneath the cloth. "And you say I have an insatiable libido."

It was just getting good when Sebastian's semi-resident descendant's voice broke into our foreplay, "Okay bunnies. Technically the kitchen counts as a room, but try not to make the counter the bed, okay?"

I snickered, pushing myself closer to Sebastian, "Too late."

I could just imagine the look on her face, and snickered more as she replied, "Ugh. I did NOT need to know that!"

Ah, sweet, sweet victory.

I was bored. Completely and totally bored out of my mind. The morgue was empty, and I had taken up residence in the back room in front of the television. Which was completely useless, since it only picked up four channels on a good night. And considering that is was storming like crazy, it's safe to say that it wasn't a good night. There were the occasional moments when the static would recede long enough to show the late-night horror flick riding the airwaves, but other than that, it was about as dead as the corpses that come in.

I almost wished someone would die just so I wouldn't be bored. I know, horrible thought, but seriously? At least I'd have something to do that didn't involve staring at TV snow. I groaned to myself, plopping down sideways on the ratty old couch.

Lucky for me, I wasn't bored for long. No sooner had I started talking to myself, did the backdoor's buzzer sound. Loudly, even over the thunder and rain. My first thought was 'Maybe someone died!' followed by, 'I hope it's not another random homeless guy.'

Even luckier, it wasn't either. I hurried to the back door, and pulled up the shutter to check who was there. My guest was actually living, had been for 16 years, and he was completely soaked to the bone. Hair that was normally spiked up was flat and pretty much pouring streams of water down his face, and he had the appearance of a drowned puppy. I sighed, sliding the heavy metal door open and offering a hand to the younger of my twin sons. "Do I even want to know what you're doing here this late?"

Morgan accepted my hand with one of his grins, "You want to know, but I'm not sure I'm up to talking about it right now."

He made his way into the back room, shivering from the sudden temperature shift. He spotted my bag on the floor a few feet away, and damned if he didn't head straight for it and pull out my change of clothes. I rolled my eyes, popping into the shower to snatch one of the clean towels for the brat. "By all means, take my spare clothes. I plan to go home smelling like formaldehyde, anyway."

"Thanks, dad, you're the greatest." There was a snicker in his voice. Have I mentioned that he's a certifiable "brat"?

Five minutes later found Morgan mostly dry and me less bored than I was, but still bored nonetheless. He sat on the couch next to me, blue eyes checking out the "staff room" of the morgue. "This place is a total dump."

"I didn't decorate it; I just work here." I grinned at him. It was kinda shocking how much he and his brother looked like me. Creepy, if I really thought about it long. Which brought me back, somehow, as to what exactly had brought him here at 3 in the morning. Especially alone. "Okay, Morgan. Spill, now."

He winced. Guess he was hoping I'd forget to ask. To my credit, just because I look too young to be their dad didn't mean I was. It's his own damn fault for coming here – don't want to be questioned, don't visit a parent. He started fiddling with his pants (these bright green… things), "I just, uh, well… Toby and I got in a fight, alright? I can't hear him at all, and I couldn't get to sleep because of the vast emptiness in my head."

There are always those weird stories about twins being connected mentally – like a psychic connection. Morgan and Tobias actually had one of these links, as far as anyone could tell. The shear amount of times they've done s**t without ever saying a word, plotted and kept their stories straight is all the proof I need. The last time they had a fight, they hadn't spoken for a week. Both were a complete and total mess. It was like their center of balance had been thrown off, kind of like a cat whose whiskers had been clipped. Or at least that's how Sebastian had described it. I've never cut the whiskers off a cat. At least not purposely.

But Morgan was starting to show those signs again, which worried me. "What exactly did you two fight about?"

He was silent for a long moment. I was about to ask him again when he finally replied, "He wants to ask this girl out, and I think she's a tart. Well, I know she's a tart. She can't tell us apart."

"Even though you have a lip ring and green hair." I deadpanned.

"Yeah – and he just says that I'm exaggerating. But I'm not! He should know better than that."

I was at a loss. I don't deal with girl troubles, especially since I have absolutely no knowledge of the female. Unless you count my sister, but she hardly falls into the category of "girl". More like "Amazon". But sibling problems weren't knew to me because of said Amazon. "Look, I'll talk to him. I wouldn't be surprised if he's in the same rut as you. Or at least a similar one."

My son laughed, "I hope so. Serve him right, at least." He stopped moving, eyes flickering toward the door. "I can hear him again."

Not even a second later, that buzzer sounded again. I was getting sick of rolling my eyes, "Stay right here, squirt."

I stood and made my way to the door, once again pushing up the shutter to get a good view of who was standing in the rain this time. Just as Morgan had not-quite predicted, the thirteen minute older Tobias stood outside. He at least had an umbrella. The door gave a protesting squeak as I shoved it open. I gave him what I hoped was an annoyed look.

"'Lo, dad." Tobias mumbled, eyes downcast, "I'm guessing Morgan's already here?"

I nodded, "Ding ding ding! Let's see what you've won! I know!" I whacked him over the head.

"Hey! I don't think I deserved that!"

"You did. Now get in here before you let all the warm air out." I pulled him in, snatching the umbrella and closing it with a snap. It joined Morgan's wet clothes in the corner. "Go and fix things with your brother, and I won't tell Melissa that you both snuck out at three in the morning and came all the way from the Bronx."

He eeped. I guess he hadn't thought of the fact that they're were out way after curfew. I enjoyed that for a moment before pointing Tobias in the right direction.

The next hour was about as boring as the majority of my shift. Honestly, no matter how much I love my sons, there's only so much "sibling bonding" that I can handle. And they had reached that point two minutes in. So I tuned them out, mostly, as I tried to get the stupid TV to pick up something other than Plan 9 From Outer Space. I was failing so far. Miserably.

By the time they had come to some kind of agreement, it was twenty to five and my replacement had arrived. So I dragged the twins (and their stuff) out of the morgue and into the wonderful pre-dawn streets of downtown. The subways had just started running again, and I used my Metro-card to get the two on the tin can with me. The few people on the train watched the three of us tumble on, and I guessed most of them thought I was their brother, not their father.

"Since I don't feel like stopping by Melissa's this morning, you two are just gonna have to come home with me. Call her from there, alright?" I sat near the doors, watching as Morgan and Tobias sat across from me.

Both boys nodded, Morgan with a yawn. "Yeah, but why couldn't we just take the 3 home? S'not like we don't know how to get back."

I snorted, "I just don't want your mom on my case for not keeping an eye on you two. That and Sebastian and I live a lot closer to you guys than the morgue, so it won't be as big of an issue."

Down the train, a young woman was eyeing the three of us carefully. I had noticed her, fleetingly, when we got on board, but didn't pay her much attention. She was just another one of those people who missed the last train home. Blonde and slim, straight guys wouldn't have been able to overlook her. She was the only other person in the car with us, and that concerned me a bit. It was really when she stood up and headed towards us that I started to really want to practice me "flee" instinct.

She sat down on the plastic bench, two seats down and offered me a smile. She seemed harmless, sure, but it was obvious that she was going to start hitting on one of us. And I didn't like that at all, especially since it was obvious that she was at least twenty – which would make her a ****** if she even looked at my sons the wrong way. Fortunately, and unfortunately, she was focused on me. "These your little brothers?" She nodded her head towards Tobias and Morgan.

I bit the inside of my cheeks, wanting nothing more than to get off the train at the next stop. Which would suck, since we were still a good fifteen stops from home. "No, they're my sons." Maybe that would get her to back off.

If her expression was anything to go by, she didn't buy it. "Bullshit. You're way to young for that."

I guess I had expected that, but it still made this a hell of a lot harder. Couldn't she see I wasn't interested? At all?

"I age well." I snarled, walking becoming a better and better idea.

Apparently Tobias had the same idea. "Uh, dad? If we get off here we can always walk. I mean, what's a few blocks, right?"

The blonde seemed surprised by his calling me dad, and looked back and forth between the three of us in confusion. She shook her head, suddenly smiling widely, "You've got to tell me how you look so young. I mean… these two are at least sixteen, right? So you've got to be in your mid to late thirties."

Total shift, but one that I could stand. Especially when Tobias and Morgan both started laughing.

"You hear that, Toby? She wants to know – "

" – how dad manages to – "

" – look at least 10 years younger than he really is!"

I watched as they both fell over on each other, laughing. I was glad they were amusing themselves in my discomfort. The blonde was completely flabbergasted.

"Did I… miss something?" She asked, eyes wide.

I grinned, "My secret? Can't tell you. But you're welcome to guess."

We had wasted enough time that by the time I had said this, we had arrived at our stop. I dragged the still laughing twins out behind me and pulled them up the stairs and onto street level. I noticed that the woman got off at the same stop, but said nothing as we walked the block, past the cemetery, and up the stairs to the house.

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