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oliviaischillin1204 · 6 months

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lots to learn

Pairings: Romantic Anamoceit

Word Count: 1,323 words

this is a direct sequel to this minific from a few years ago, they don't have to be read together but u might as well lol

"... I guess I've got a lot to learn."

"I think we all do!"

Virgil smiled up at him, and really, Patton couldn't help but lean down and press a kiss against his forehead.

"Do we wanna keep going, or are we tired?" he asked lightly. He really hadn't meant to tease, but it was pretty cute how both Virgil and Janus went suddenly shy at the idea of them continuing their little 'lesson'.

"Well, I for one have quite a busy morning at work tomorrow," Janus interjected, pretending he wasn't flushed and avoiding Patton's eyes. "So I'll have to pass on being the... subject, in order to get any actual rest. Unfortunately."

"Oh, sure," Patton replied. "So that means you're definitely not going to get any more tickles tonight, unless you change your mind and ask me or Virge to tickle you! That's what you want, right? No more tickles tonight?"

Janus' fingers clenched where he'd folded his arms protectively over his chest. "...Yes. It's not like I'd ever ask for more, of course."

"Oh, of course not," Patton teased, winking obviously at his husband. He gave Janus about twenty minutes tops before he caved and starting begging, which meant...

Patton smiled down at Virgil, who was still lying on his back in between himself and Janus. He returned Patton's gaze with a shy yet cocky gaze.

"Do you wanna...?" Patton offered. Virgil nodded wordlessly, biting his lip.

"Aw, yeah? You wanna go ahead and lift those arms for me, then?" he continued.

There were a few moments as Virgil took in a slow, shaky breath, before he managed to fold his arms behind his head. Janus shifted, sitting up further, but the slight movement was enough to make Virgil slam his arms back down to his sides with a panicked noise.

Neither Patton or Janus could stop the laughter that burst out of them.

"My goodness, darling, is it really that bad?" Janus teased.

"Oh, come on, Janny, you know how it is!" Patton retorted. "The anticipation makes everything feel so much more sensitive, huh, Virge?"

Virgil didn't respond; he was too busy burying his dark face in his hands as his partners teased him. "Please kill me."

"You wish," Janus replied. "Arms up, buttercup."

"Janus."

"If you have a problem with nicknames I'm afraid you're going to have to speak up soon. Patton can be quite creative."

Patton smirked, his voice a sing-song as he replied, "You would know!"

"Enough," Janus said in a voice that was not quite begging. "Eyes on Virgil, please."

Patton chuckled one more time, but did move on the bed until he was lying comfortably on his side next to Virgil, one hand propping up his head while the other rested innocently next to Virgil's side. Janus did the same; Virgil cut his eyes over to him, and he merely gave him that slow, sharp smile that Virgil loved.

"Should we make it a game?" Patton asked, fingers drumming the mattress and making Virgil tense up.

Janus hummed. "Maybe 'how long can you keep your arms up'? Or 'how long can you hold in your laughter'?"

"I'm not gonna last that long," Virgil blurted. His arms twitched, begging to drop to his sides, but he kept his hands behind his head. "I'm-- I'm really ticklish, and you're making it so horrible, but I do like it, but I feel like I'm gonna explode and you haven't even started yet--"

"Shhhhhhh," Janus whispered. "Breathe, Vergilius." His raised his hand, letting Virgil keep his eyes on his fingers as they curled in the air. "Just trust us. We'll take care of you."

Virgil was so entranced by Janus' fingers that he was completely unprepared for Patton running his nails down his side. Virgil gasped; his arms dropped just as he'd warned them, but Janus was viper-quick and managed to grab one elbow, pinning the arm closest to him back next to Virgil's head.

"Oh, hello," Janus purred, "what's this?" He fluttered his nails on Virgil's other side, the mirror image of where Patton's hand had been, and Virgil couldn't stop the keening squeal that escaped from his throat.

"Aw, is that a good spot?" Patton cooed. He copied Janus' pose by easily pulling Virgil's arm up so he could pin it (either because Patton was clearly stronger than Virgil and was able to pry his arm away from his side, or because Virgil was actually trying very hard to not protect himself from the tickles).

"Must be, if he's fighting us this much," Janus continued.

"Can't-- hehehelp it!" Virgil whined. His laughter was coming out in spurts and bursts, like he was trying to hold it back. This was torture; Patton's rough hands and rounded nails scratching between his ribs and his side was already enough to make him want to lose it, but Janus was much more delicate, which was freaking worse, because that meant he let his well-manicured nails dance ever so gently just above the most sensitive spots along Virgil's waistline, not speeding up and not going any rougher, just enough to make Virgil want to throw his head back and wail.

Of course, he couldn't do that, because he had three sleeping kids in the house and the thought of having to go through their bedtime routines yet again was exhausting. All he could do was lean forward and gasp in a breath as quietly as possible before saying, "Wait wait wait wait--"

His partners stopped immediately.

"I can't-- can't be quiet," he choked out. "The kids-- I don't wanna wake them, I'm sorry--"

"It's alright, sweetie," Patton replied, stroking Virgil's hair. He looked over Virgil's head at Janus, and the two seemed to have a silent conversation for a moment before he continued, "I have a thought."

The next thing Virgil knew, Patton was maneuvering him around, even picking him up for a brief moment and making Virgil yelp with surprise. When he was settled, Virgil found himself sitting on Patton's lap, his legs on either side of Patton's hips and their chests nearly pressed together. Heat rushed back to his face at the proximity.

"How about this?" Patton asked. "You need to laugh, you do it into my shoulder."

Virgil was about to respond when suddenly the hairs on the back of his neck stood up as Janus leaned up to whisper in his ear.

"Would that help you stay a bit quieter, darling?"

Virgil nodded so fast he almost hurt himself. "Yes."

He could feel Janus' grin again the back of his neck. "Good." That's all the warning he had before Janus' nails trailed all the way down his sides, from his armpits to just above his hips.

The noise that came out of him was nearly indecent, but Patton's hand came up and pushed Virgil's head into his shoulder just in time. This was almost worse, for Virgil-- not being able to see anything, so vulnerable and exposed pressed between his partners' chests-- but at least he didn't have to hold in his laughter anymore. He could merely relish in it as Patton's hands wrapped around his back to trace and spider through his sleep shirt all over the sensitive spots on his back, or as Janus' hands snuck around to flutter damningly all over Virgil's stomach.

"It's okay," Patton murmured into Virgil's hair, although the other man could barely hear it over his own muffled laughter. "We've got you. Just laugh it out."

"Besides," Janus continued, curling forward so his breath could once again tickle Virgil's ears, "it's your day off tomorrow. I think this is a perfect chance to explore this wonderful little secret I found, hmm?"

Virgil could blame it on the fact that he couldn't speak at the moment-- not with his mouth, wide open and wailing, pressed into the warmth that was Patton's shoulder-- but if he were honest... he couldn't agree with Janus more.

#my posts #my writing #tickling #tickle fic #sanders sides tickling #lee!virgil #ler!janus #ler!patton #lots to learn #drafted on november 15 2021 #EDIT: UM I LITERALLY FINISHED THIS LIKE OVER A MONTH AGO AND I FORGOT TO POST IT #SORRYYYYYY #anyways have this while i (once again) try to finish some of my longer wips lmao

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edupunkn00b · 11 months

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The Uses of Adversity, Ch. 19: The Discovery

Prev - The Discovery - Next - Masterpost - [ AO3 ]

Janus and Logan in court. Everything comes to light. Everything. A light against the darkened sky Your truth must outshine all the lies, it seems But from the outside looking in I say I'll move mountains! - I’ll Move Mountains by Roo Panes

WC: 4266 - Rating: T - CW: infidelity discussed, homophobia (oh, hello, Karen) -

“I just got back from court,” Logan said, poking his head into Janus’ office. Janus was surrounded by stacks of redwells, bursting with case files and xeroxed sheets of paper. “Beatrice said you needed to see me.”

“Yes,” Janus nodded and waved him in toward the couch. His mouth was set in a tight, thin line. “Shut the door and have a seat,” he said, closing one of the files. “Please.”

Logan sat down, hands folded over the files in his lap. He watched silently as Janus popped a handful of peppermint Altoids in his mouth and crunched. Not a good day for him. Finally, he spoke.

“They sent the discovery.” Janus was quiet for a moment, then got up to make tea.

Janus didn’t need to say who ‘they’ was. “I see it’s good news, then,” Logan remarked dryly, stiffening in his seat and adjusting his glasses.

Janus huffed out a little laugh. “Yeah.” He opened the box of matcha and scooped out two generous teaspoonfuls before glaring at the collection of files on his desk. “Even setting aside how they ran out the clock and only sent all that the day before our first hearing… No, it’s really not good.” The kettle clicked and Janus poured the hot water over the matcha, stirring rapidly with the little bamboo whisk. He set the first cup in front of Logan, then prepared the next. “Does the name Jessica Michaels ring a bell for you? This would’ve been… early 2000s. She was a—”

“She was a marriage counselor we saw shortly after Virgil was born. After…” Logan gestured vaguely with his left hand. Janus nodded, mouth turned down in a scowl. “We met once a week for… four and a half years.”

Janus set down his tea next to Logan’s, then gathered the thickest redwell of documents and sat next to his friend. “I don’t know if you were aware at the time, but… she wasn’t an actual counselor. She was a…. “ Janus fished through the documents and pulled out a C.V. with her credentials. “A ‘women’s fellowship leader’ at Ms. Croft’s church. Layperson, not a member of the clergy.” Janus folded his hands over the worn cover of the file holder. “There was no patient confidentiality in anything discussed during those sessions. Nor any documents… or journals used.”

Logan paled and his breathing grew shallow. Hands shaking, his tea threatened to spill over the edge and the cup clunked heavily as he set it down. He eyed the redwell on Janus’ lap like it might grow fangs and bite him. “Tha—that’s what you have in there?”

“Copies, yes.” Janus gripped the redwell, tapping it while he thought. “I’ve already filed a motion to have the journals and any notes from those sessions suppressed, with the originals returned to you due to the fact that any reasonable person would’ve believed they’d been collected under the rules of patient confidentiality.” He let out a low sigh. “If that fails, I plan to request copies of the full documents. These are… excerpts. We need the full context and—”

“I know the context,” Logan said quietly. “Those are my dream journals. Recording and sharing them in session was meant to foster an environment of ‘trust and open communication.’” Logan drowned the bitterness in his voice with the tea and stared down into the now-empty cup. “Have you read them?”

“I stopped once I saw what they were.”

Logan looked away. “But you saw enough.”

“I did.”

The two men let the silence sit between them for several minutes. Janus took Logan’s empty cup and prepared him more tea, then resumed his seat next to him. “If the motion to suppress is denied,” Logan’s voice was stronger than Janus would’ve expected given his pallor and the lingering tremor in his hands. “We need to ensure the court redacts any details that could be used to identify him.” Logan shook his head, jaw trembling. “I can’t have Roman dragged into this mess.”

Janus sighed again and opened the redwell. He pulled out a thick blueback petition and passed it to Logan. Several of the pages had been flagged with bright sticky notes. “Even if we’re successful with a petition to redact, I’m afraid that won’t make much of a difference.” He looked significantly at the document.

“They’ve filed an amended petition alleging infidelity starting in law school.” Logan’s brow furrowed, mouth opening to protest. Janus held up his hand and continued gently. “Roman is named in the case.”

“But—but, no! That’s—that’s not what happened!” Logan jerked away from the document as though touching it would be an admission of guilt. “I never—we never—”

“Logan, I’m on your side. I believe you. Regardless, though… even if it were true,” Janus gestured around the office. “I’m your lawyer and your friend and I’d still be on your side.”

Logan put down his tea and wrapped his arms over his belly, staring down at his lap. “I just….” He squeezed his eyes shut, and turned his face up to the ceiling. He blew out a sharp breath. “I thought I was done with her… hurting me.” Logan shook his head. “And now she just wants to hurt Roman, too, and—” His voice broke and he looked away. “I never should’ve mentioned his name,” he whispered, almost to himself. “I thought it would be safe. I thought…” He yanked off his glasses and scrubbed at his eyes. “I thought I’d never see him again. Not… not in real life.”

Janus put down the case files and locked the door. He made a show of closing his laptop and then sat on the little sofa sideways and faced him. “I need to ask you something, Logan. Not as your lawyer. Not as your boss. And not as Roman’s brother-in-law.” Logan looked up at him, eyebrows knit together. “I ask this as your friend.”

He took a long sip of his tea, then looked down into the cup, watching the darker green swirl at the bottom. He raised one eyebrow at him. “Are you concerned about Roman learning through a court case that you have feelings for him?”

“What? No. No, I…” Logan shook his head. “No. They’re just dreams. Were. They—they were dreams, nothing—”

Janus met his eyes, a wordless, ‘Who exactly do you think you’re fooling?’ splashed over his face.

If only the couch could swallow him up whole.

His shoulders sagged. “Janus, I can’t pull him into any of this,” he whispered. “Even if I thought there was any chance he might… reciprocate…” Logan shook his head again and massaged his fingers. The ache hadn’t let up since Janus had started the tea. “Roman could have… he deserves so much more than all this.” He gestured around them, unsure how much he was referring to himself or to the legal fiasco unfolding around them. “He deserves so much more than anything I can offer him.”

Janus set down his cup. “Perhaps you should let Roman be the judge of that.”

Logan dragged both hands through his hair and shook his head. “Is—is it a closed proceeding tomorrow?”

“Yes,” Janus sighed, but nodded and pulled up the short list of attendees. “The lawyers, you, Ms. Croft, a court reporter, and the Adjudicate.”

He nodded and adjusted his tie. “Let’s get through tomorrow,” he whispered. “And then I’ll think about it.”

Fifteen minutes before the scheduled start of the hearing, Janus and Logan sat together at the Defendant’s table in the tiny hearing room. The judge’s bench ate up more than half the space, and, notably, one of the walls was papered over in a faux wood finish, pale and hardly matching the genuine wood paneling on the other side. The hastily assembled dividing wall split the ornate crown molding, leaving the left side of the room plain and dreary.

Still, the chairs were reasonably comfortable and the court staff had managed to fit a decently sized table for each party in a given case. While they waited for the rest of the court to appear, they arranged files on the desk, preparing the various exhibits in the order in which they would need them, their numbers clearly marked for easy retrieval.

The sharp clack of high heels against the linoleum in the hall drew Logan’s attention and his head shot up. It was merely someone passing.

“Eyes on me, remember?” Janus murmured. “Eyes on the judge when the judge is speaking,” he nodded slowly, holding Logan’s gaze. “Otherwise, eyes on me.”

The familiar advice, the advice he himself had given countless clients in DV proceedings, took root in his mind and nodded back. “Thank you,” he whispered, jerking again at a loud footsteps outside but he kept his eyes on Janus’

“It’s not easy, but you’ve got this,” he whispered as the court reporter shuffled in, her heavy transcription machine slung over one shoulder, her lunch bag on the other. Janus stood and bowed his head.

“We haven’t really begun yet, April,” he smiled. “May I give you a hand?”

“The answer’s still no, Pater,” she rolled her eyes behind their thick reading glasses but graced him with a smile. She nodded, still smiling, at Logan in his seat. “I have to admit,” she said, hands automatically assembling her machine without looking. “I saw the name on the docket and wondered.”

April looked around the tiny hearing room and lowered her voice. “Good luck, Mr. Sanders.”

“Thank you, April,” he nodded. For all his worry that the judge hearing his case might find it difficult to separate this from his professional work the next time he tried a case before them, he hadn’t considered the likelihood he might come across others who knew him, as well. If it was to be anyone, though, he was relieved April was the court reporter for this case.

Without looking up from his notes, Janus murmured quietly near his ear. “The Clerk of the Court requested April for this case.” He flashed Logan a tiny smile. “I believe you have more friends than you realize.”

A few minutes later, Kelly's attorney appeared. He waited near the door for several more minutes, finally taking his seat at two to eleven. The thin red second hand on the clock had already passed its nadir when Kelly stomped into the room and dropped into the empty seat next to her attorney. He turned to her, “You made it just in—”

“All rise,” April recited when the little light near the judge’s chambers lit up. Closed hearings were run with the barest of staff and Logan felt a rare brush of relief. He wasn’t certain there were many bailiffs he would want in the room for this.

“Take your seats,” Judge Dain said before she’d even reached the bench. “This is a pretrial hearing in the matter of Croft v. Sanders, to decide the Defendant’s motion to suppress.”

“Yes, Your Honor,” Janus rose and smoothing down his charcoal grey three-piece suit, the quiet clacking of the court reporter’s machine dropping down to a low, ignorable drone. “As you might imagine, dependent on the outcome of this motion, we may have additional motions to present.”

“Expected and understood,” she nodded. There was little point in presenting a motion to redact evidence already suppressed from the case. She looked down at the case file and flipped through the motion before nodding. “Regarding the defendant's motion to suppress Exhibits 13 through 53 inclusive, with all sub-sections therein—” Kelly huffed from her seat, maybe a cough. Maybe a laugh.

The Judge paused, one eyebrow raised until Kelly’s attorney nudged her and she murmured, “Excuse me, Your Honor. A cold.”

She returned her gaze to the documents in front of her. “The defendant has claimed that under RCW 42.56, these documents were collected, retained, and shared in violation of privileged communications.” The judge lowered her glasses at Janus and nodded.

“Yes, Your Honor,” Janus stood again and bowed his head. “Thank you. Given a reasonable assumption of medical confidentiality—”

“Objection.” Kelly’s lawyer, someone different from who had filed their divorce petition. He looked vaguely familiar and Logan wasn’t certain, but he believed he, too, attended Kelly’s old church. “Mrs. Michaels was known by the defendant to be a lay leader at my client’s church and there should have been no such assumption of confidentiality.”

“Your Honor, it is more than reasonable to accept the word of one’s wife that she has made arrangements for marriage counseling with a certified—and confidential—counselor.”

“Are you asking the Court to believe a lawyer didn’t think to ask for clarity?”

“I am asking the Court to believe that even lawyers trust their spouses.”

“Your Honor,” Kelly’s attorney interjected and she turned and smirked at him past their respective representation. “Those documents are the heart of my client’s grievance with Mr. Sanders, both for the charges of infidelity—”

“Alleged and unproven,” Janus interrupted.

“Alleged infidelity and our assertion that he is unfit as a parent and role model for a young boy.” Kelly smiled one more time at Logan, then turned to face the judge, eyes wide. “Additionally,” her laugher cleared his throat and looked significantly at the judge. “Refusal to admit these documents into evidence could be perceived as prejudicial against the practices of Ms. Croft’s house of worship.”

The judge pursed her lips, then nodded. “Motion to suppress denied.”

Janus cut off Kelly’s quiet laugher, “Your Honor, motion to strike from the record any and all names, identifying information, descriptions, or any details whatsoever that could be used to trace back to Person A, so named in the plaintiff’s revised petition.” He stood tall, holding a fresh blue-backed document. When the judge signaled him closer, he passed one to Kelly’s attorney and presented the original to the judge.

“Given the salacious nature of the claims and his relative fame, even a spurious”—he cast one cold glance at Kelly’s attorney—”claim such as this could cause Person A a great deal of financial and psychological harm.”

The judge hummed, narrowing her eyes as she scanned the motion. “You’re also alleging the intent of naming Mr. Prince is to encourage a settlement.”

“It would hardly be the first such case to cross this Court, Your Honor,” Janus nodded. “There is precedent in Dunkely v. Roy, Powers v. Powers, Whitman v.—”

“I am well acquainted with my own docket, Mr. Prince, thank you.” She leaned forward. “Any relation?”

Janus straightened his tie. “Yes, as disclosed in our motion to suppress and in this motion, as well. Person A is my brother-in-law.”

The judge stared at him for a long moment, then signaled to the court reporter. “Motion sustained.” The repeated tapping of the court reporter’s redactions accompanied his return to their table.

Logan couldn’t help a tiny relieved sigh and Janus flashed him a smile as he sat down. At least they had that victory and they could keep Roman’s name out of this.

“What?” Kelly hissed, none-too-quietly. Her attorney’s voice rumbled, too low to understand the words. She jerked away from him, chair scraping the floor. “You’re telling me that this—”

“Ms. Croft, please,” he muttered between clenched teeth.

“Counsel, is there a problem?” the Judge asked.

“Your Honor, if I might request a brief recess so I may confer with my client—”

“That’s bullshit!” Kelly said, louder and rising to her feet. She wobbled on her high heels for a moment and Logan’s chest tightened. He scrawled on a bit of paper and passed it to Janus.

She’s drunk.

Janus watched as her attorney spoke close to her ear, tugging her back into her seat.

Are you sure? he wrote back.

Logan nodded.

“No, we don’t need a recess,” she snapped from her seat. “We just need a legal system that isn’t afraid of looking ‘unwoke.’”

“Your Honor,” her attorney tried again. “Motion for—”

“And we need a judge who isn’t going to kowtow before some fruity little lawyer my ex dug up to try to defend his pathetic ass.”

“Counsel, approach the bench,” the judge ordered, jaw set.

Janus scribbled a question mark on their note, a concerned, ‘Are you okay with this?’ in his eyes.

Logan nodded and wrote back, “Give her all the rope she wants.”

“Your Honor,” Janus bowed his head as he approached. “It appears my esteemed counterpart’s client does not wish for a recess. Defense is ready to proceed.”

Her attorney smiled thinly at him. “You are a credit to your craft, Mr. Prince. Your Honor, not providing my client an opportunity to compose herself, given her current… impaired state could be grounds for an appeal if—”

“Do you mean the client alleging mine is an unfit father reported for court at eleven in the morning inebriated?” Janus turned to the judge. “Your Honor, even I couldn’t make a case for that appeal.”

“I can hear you from here,” Kelly snapped, rising again to her feet. “I told you, Brett,” she leaned over the table, staring daggers at her lawyer. “If his cheating with that twink—”

“Objection, You Honor,” Janus interrupted. “Assumes facts not in evidence and is an ad hominem attack.”

“Sust—”

“He doesn’t have any real parental rights anyway. Patton’s not even his!”

“Objection, Your Honor—” Kelly’s attorney began.

“You can’t object to your client’s own statements in court,” the judge sighed. “Ms. Croft,” she addressed Kelly directly. Kelly flipped her hair back, smiling triumphantly at Logan. “Would you care to repeat that?”

“Patton’s not his child,” she spat, pointing at Logan.

“Counsel?”

Kelly’s attorney shook his head, glancing at Janus. “A brief recess would be beneficial for all, I believe.”

“Your Honor,” Janus turned and Logan nodded, stretching to pass him the pale blue folder on their table.

The day before, as they’d strategized for the hearing, Janus had frowned when Logan had told him there was one more important incident he had not yet shared. “It is risky keeping information from your attorney until the last moment.”

“I… I know.” Logan had hung his head, but Janus’ gut told him it was more than shame for keeping secrets from him. “I was… optimistic this wouldn’t come up. But if she’s dredging up all this…” He shook his head, glaring at the redwell of dream journals. “There’s something she doesn’t realize I know.” He swallowed hard, lips curled like he’d tasted something sour. “And I think if we push her, she might reveal it herself.”

Janus moved closer and listened.

“I told you I had a genetic screening after Virgil was born.” He looked up and waited for Janus’ little nod. “I carry the gene that caused his birth defect and…” He looked down at his hands. “Likely Kelly does, too. If we’d had more children, they would each have a twenty-five percent chance of his condition. Virgil’s had been mild, reparable.” Logan shook his head. “But seeing his tiny body cut up and hooked into tubes and monitors—” His voice cracked. “I couldn’t bear to go through that fear again, I couldn’t bear to knowingly put a tiny infant through that… or something worse. But Kelly… she wanted more kids.”

Logan finally met his eyes again. “I had a vasectomy six months after Virgil was born and never told her.”

“But, Patton—” Janus pulled out the notes with the children’s birthdates. Patton’s five and a half years younger than Virgil.

“Around when the marriage counseling… failed,” Logan sighed and set down his cup. “Kelly began working with clients all over the world and she’d…” he shrugged. “She would travel for face time with them. All throughout the year but especially the month and half after Christmas and through January, she’d be gone.” Logan hugged himself, scrunching deeper into the couch. “I… I liked the freedom. The…” he sighed and twisted his fingers in his sleeves. “The peace. It was just me and the boys and… we were happy when she was gone. I think she was, too, because when she’d return, she…” He shook his head again and sucked in a deep breath, a new tremor in his jaw.

Janus refilled his tea and pressed the cup into his hands.

He nodded a small thanks and took a sip before continuing. “The winter before Patton was born, though, she came back a different person.”

“Angrier?” Janus asked, reaching out to cover Logan’s hand.

“Kinder,” he whispered, meeting Janus’s eyes. Tears welled behind his glasses and he shrugged again. “Softer…” His face went pink and he dodged Janus’ gaze. “She was affectionate,” he said with emphasis. “Those first few weeks when she came home, it was…” He pressed his lips together, breathing hard through his nose. After a moment, he cleared his throat, breath still shaky. “It was like when we’d first started dating. Romantic, and… passionate. I thought we’d made a breakthrough, and put the past behind us. I thought she—“

Logan’s voice cracked and this time Janus squeezed his hand, imagining a thousand different ways he could destroy that fucking Karen.

“I thought she’d started to… love me again,” he finished in a thin whisper.

Janus’ stomach sank as he counted the months in his head, but he remained silent and waited while Logan drank more of his tea.

“Four weeks after she returned, she showed me the pregnancy test.” He tapped his cup, eyes fixed on the swirling green tea. “And everything went back to the way it had been. I… I tried to convince myself it had been real. And that, maybe the procedure had reversed itself. I… I even went to a fertility clinic… Was evaluated.” He shook his head and drank the rest of his tea. “It hadn’t. It’s not physically possible for me to have impregnated her that time.”

Janus had more questions than he knew what to do with, but Logan’s jaw worked like he had more to say, so he filled the silence with pouring more tea.

“Patton was born ‘early,’” he cocked his head knowingly at Janus. “And he was small relative to his brothers’ size at birth.” Logan shook his head. “But he had no lanugo, there was meconium in the amniotic sac. Fully developed. He wasn’t a preemie.” He massaged his fingers. “Patton was conceived during her trip.”

“That’s a lot for circumstantial evidence,” Janus finally said. “We’ve tried cases like that before and—“

Logan shook his head. “You saw him at the park.” Janus frowned. Surrounded by his tall, dark-haired brothers and father, Patton had stood out. “It’s his hair, his features…” Logan continued. “The only physical trait we share is—“ he tapped his eyeglasses with a wry grin. “But he’s near-sighted and I have an astigmatism, same as Virgil and Remy.”

“If you knew… All this time you knew… Why?” Janus stared at his confounding friend. “Why didn’t you say anything? You had proof of her infidelity. You… you didn’t have to care for another man’s—”

“Patton is my son in every way that matters.” Logan’s voice was fierce. “I fed him in the night and rocked him when he teethed. I picked him up held him when he cried. I taught him to ride a bike and how to read… how to solve an equation. He is my son. Whose sperm fertilized some egg is inconsequential.”

He nodded. “And I’m his father. His speech was delayed, but his first word, his only word for over a year, was ‘Daddy.’ When he was first born, he cried… so much. But he was happy in my arms. When he got older, he signed with me and with his brothers. Kelly… “ He rubbed his right wrist. “Kelly blamed his speech delays on the rudimentary signing and refused, with all of the boys.” Logan finally looked up again. “But he signed with me, his father.”

Janus had nodded and pulled out a fresh, robin egg blue folder. “Then let’s be ready to fight for your sons, no matter what she tries.”

“If I may direct the Court’s attention to Exhibits 1A and B, 2B through 2F,” Janus continued after nodding to Logan from his position before the judge. “Mr. Sanders’ and Ms. Croft’s dated marriage and divorce certificates, as well as the childrens’ birth certificates, signed by both parents and witnessed by attendants at each birth. Additionally, there is the attestment of parentage from the original divorce decree and child support agreement, notarized as signed by each party.”

He paused, and gave the judge a moment to review the documents. He did not smirk when a single drop of sweat ran down the other attorney’s temple. “Ms. Croft is more than welcome to deny the veracity of her earlier sworn statements. I would imagine there to be some sort of consequence for perjury on these documents if she attested to statements she now claims to have been false. I imagine the Office of Child Support Enforcement may require a remuneration of funds fraudulently obtained, as well.”

The judge looked up and met his eyes. She wasn’t smiling, but Janus was sure as fuck she wanted to. “Furthermore, it would appear that Ms. Croft’s new claims of parentage expose her to proven infidelity during the time of the plaintiff’s and defendant’s marriage.”

Janus turned to her attorney. “Given that, does your client have anything beyond my client’s alleged sexual orientation to preclude his ability to parent his children?” He smiled. “Because if that is your only argument, I assure you, Brett, you will have an army of ‘fruity little lawyers’ at your doorstep before you can staple the tops of your bluebacks.”

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