"Maybe he knows he's in the presence of greatness," said Craig as he settled down beside Sloan. A multicolored Popsicle was already weeping all over his hand. "Genius like ours can be very intimidating."

"Do all geniuses wear a purple sugar mustache?" asked Carolyn who had strode up behind her husband.

Craig examined his treat. "Purple dye is great for the synapses."

Sloan's head made a soft thud as it hit the pine. He moaned in despair.

Carolyn laughed. "Come on, Sloan. Where's your sense of humor? Your friend is very charming."

Sloan lifted his head just enough to look Troy's wife in the eye. "Then maybe you'd like to take him off my hands. He can't be any more trouble than a herd of sugar-hyped toddlers."

Craig continued slurping, impervious to the insult.

Sloan glared at him, but addressed himself to Troy. "If you guys ever decide that you want another infant just give me a call. I'll ship him via Overnight Stork Express." When Sloan shifted his eyes away from Craig he was startled to realize Carolyn had left. He looked around just in time to see her slip in through the back door of the house.

He glanced at Troy. "Was it something I said?"

"We did want more kids, but it didn't work out that way. She's still a little sensitive about it."

"Oh shit," muttered Sloan. "It's a good thing I only visit once a decade."

Troy smiled weakly. "Don't be so hard on yourself. You couldn't have known, and she'll be fine. It wasn't that bad."

"Don't sell him short." Craig was sucking on the wooden stick. "He's an insensitive clod."

Sloan growled and Craig smiled a sweet, sticky smile.

Troy stood. "I think I'll go check on her."

As Troy walked toward the house, Sloan mumbled, "Thanks anyway, Craig."

"Don't thank me too soon." He swung his legs over the bench and stood. "I'm officially abandoning you, you insensitive clod. I see a child who needs a few diving lessons."

Sloan was stunned. "You dive?"

Craig lifted his nose a fraction of an inch. "High school champ, two years in a row."

"Whew! And you went to high school, too."

Craig pointedly ignored him and ambled toward the pool.

Sloan chewed on a grin as he watched his friend strip off his T-shirt and dive headlong into the water.

Sloan felt strange sitting there at the table all by himself, but he couldn't quite bring himself to move. His attention was riveted to Sabrina Hampstead, looking cool and sexy in that damn black one-piece that plunged down toward her navel like a giant arrow that said, "this way to paradise".

He closed his eyes and focused on the internal war he'd been waging for the last twenty-four hours. Bree's request had left him reeling. And yet he couldn't really say why.

His nerve and his skills had improved dramatically over the last few years. Add to that the fact that the security at the auction house would likely be child's play compared to some of the systems he'd breached. Add to that the fact that it was a worthy and passionate request from a woman whom he owed more than he could say. Considering all that, he had no good reason to refuse. Except, of course, for the fact that it scared him spitless.

Despite all the emotional, intellectual and logical reasons against it, the thought of breaching the boundaries of the Lakeside Auction House, and rummaging through records that might have his parents' names on them, terrified him. And this wasn't the kind of healthy fear that got the adrenaline pumping and hyped him up enough to allow him to jump out of airplanes and drive cars at two hundred miles an hour in search of a fresh thrill. This was the kind of fear that made his palms sweat and his chest ache.

Suddenly he jumped up and made a dash for the pool.

"Hey, Sloan," shouted Franki as he skidded to a stop beside her. "You finally gonna ruin that blow-drying job and get your hair wet?"

"Believe it or not I let the wind dry my hair." He grinned at her as he stripped down to his trunks and stepped out of his deck shoes. "And, I'm gonna do one better than just get my hair wet."

"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Bree.

He didn't answer. Instead he concentrated on taking a series of deep breaths, inhaling until his lungs felt so full that they might burst, and then exhaling until they felt as empty and shriveled as a popped balloon.

Again.

"Sloan," said Craig slowly. "What are you up to?"

Determined not to lose his focus, he picked up a pair of five pound barbells he had spotted sitting by the edge of the pool. He took one final breath that seemed to swell his chest to twice its normal size, held it,

and then stepped off into the deep end. He sank to the bottom, sat down, and closed his eyes. His heart was pumping too fast. He willed it to slow down, willed his muscles to relax, willed his mind away from the water and the instinctive need for oxygen. He allowed his mind to wander. He thought of bonfires and beaches. Clambakes and bikinis. He imagined himself lying on the warm sand as the sun set and the evening breezes caressed his skin. He drifted on a sea that was so thick and viscous that he floated effortlessly on the soft swells. He- He felt the weights ripped away from him as anxious hands grasped his arms and dragged him to the surface. He broke the surface and gasped for breath. He fed his starving lungs with several doses of oxygen before turning angry eyes on his supposed rescuer. But Bree, who had dragged him to the side of the pool, was glaring back at him with a rage all her own.

"What did you do that for?" he raved. "I wasn't ready to come up!"

"Damn you! You're insane! You could have drowned." She pulled herself out and wrapped a towel around herself with a flourish that spoke volumes. "I'm fine. I've stayed under longer than that plenty of times." He did feel a little lightheaded, and his lungs were still burning, but that was to be expected. Her reaction was completely unwarranted. "You were turning blue, for chrissake!" He was startled to realize there were tears in her eyes. "I-I was not." Franki draped an arm around Bree's shoulders. "Yes, you were, Sloan. I was scared too."

He pulled himself out of the pool and stood, dripping, on the deck.

"What on Earth would possess you to do something like that?" Bree flung the words at him.

"I was just-"

"Did what we talked about yesterday scare you so much that you thought you'd try and get out of it by

killing yourself?" Bree couldn't have hurt him more if she had shot him with a .44 Magnum directly to the heart. He took a step back, physically reeling from the blow.

A moment after she said it her face fell and a hand flew to her mouth. "Oh damn! God, I'm sorry, Sloan. That...that was-" "He's just a goddamn showoff," yelled Craig from the other side of the pool in a flagrant attempt to defuse the situation. Sloan just kept staring at Bree, who was blinking back tears of confusion. Part of him wanted to reach out to her and tell her it was okay, wrap her in his arms and bury his face in her hair. Suddenly he wanted that more than he had ever wanted anything, but his feet had melted into the concrete. He couldn't move. Craig continued, "He just has to be the center of attention. It's annoying as hell." "I thought it was cool." David straddled the diving board, his eyes glittering with excitement. "He was down there for more than two minutes!" Sloan dragged his eyes away from Bree and turned toward the boy, grateful for the distraction. "Finally, the voice of reason." His voice shook but he forced the words out anyway. "Finally, someone who appreciates guts and talent. What do you say I buy you another ice cream cone, Davey, my boy?" David's face abruptly fell. He dropped his eyes to the water. "Uh, no thanks, I'm real full." Sloan still felt off balance by the whole incident, and David's attitude confused him further, but he was distracted by a hand on his shoulder. "You're quite the daredevil," said Vance Elliott. Sloan turned to look into a pair of bright hazel eyes set in a narrow, angular face. He eased himself out from under Vance's hand, and turned to face his father's best friend. "Yeah, well..." He shrugged. "I tend to get bored easily. Sometimes I have to make my own entertainment." A slow smile spread across Vance's face. "Hmm. Now, where have I heard that before?" The subtle comparison to his father did little to lift Sloan's mood, but Vance didn't seem to notice. "And you all seem to be enjoying yourselves?" "Yes," said Sloan somewhat tightly. He reached for his khakis and slipped them on over his damp trunks. "It's been a lovely afternoon. It's good to have everybody together again."

Vance nodded as his eyes swept over the group.

Sloan followed his gaze. David had sat down at the edge of the pool, his feet dangling in the water and a cold soda in his hand. His eyes were riveted on Craig who was bouncing experimentally on the diving board. Bree and Franki had retreated to the far corner and settled down in a pair of lounges. Bree's eyes were skewering him like fishhooks. He turned away from her to face his host.

At last Vance rested his eyes on Sloan. "Yes. Reunions are always a good idea, and it's especially good to have you back with us, Sloan. You've been missed more than you know." His gaze never wavered. "Will you walk with me?"

Sloan was startled by the request, but didn't feel he could refuse his host. "Uh...sure." He picked up his shirt and slipped it on. They began to stroll back toward the house.

"You're right," said Vance on a sigh. "It's been far too long since we did this. Of course it can never be the same as it was. Too many of us are missing." He looked sharply at Sloan. "I'm sorry. That was thoughtless."

Sloan managed a serviceable smile. "Don't be silly. There's more missing than just my parents."

"Yes, there is." They walked in silence for a few moments and then abruptly Vance added, "And I'm afraid that sad topic brings us to the reason I asked you here today. I have something I'd like to discuss with you."

Sloan stopped short and stared at him, unsure what to make of this development.

"It has to do with your father."

Sloan felt his gut tighten. "To do w-with Dad?"

"Yes. I'd like to talk inside, in my office, if you don't mind. It's rather important." They had reached the patio behind the house. He motioned toward the back door, and Sloan felt oddly powerless to refuse. Actually trapped was the more apt description.

"All right," was all he said as he followed Vance inside.

Craig had ceased his bouncing. He stood on the end of the diving board and watched as Sloan followed Troy's father into the house. He had to suppress an odd fluttering of apprehension in his gut. Something about the older man bothered him. He just couldn't say what. However, once Sloan was out of sight he was able to concentrate.

He closed his eyes, lifted his arms, bounced once, slowly, to test the tension on the board. He repeated the action. On the third dip he inhaled deeply, swung his arms to add momentum, and when the board hit its apex he lifted off. He executed a single tucked somersault and managed to hit the water in a reasonable rendition of a textbook entry.

He touched bottom, flipped over and pushed off. He erupted from the water to a cacophony of applause and whistles. Bree, Franki, David, and Derek's wife-for the life of him he couldn't remember her name-were all praising his acrobatic achievement.

"Holy moly!" shouted Franki. "That was impressive. You're quite the athlete! You're a lot more... flexible than I thought."

"Franki!" scolded Bree. "Leave the poor man alone. He's blushing."

"I am not!" He swam to the side of the pool and hooked his arms over the side, his eyes trained on the women as his body bobbed in the water. "It's the sun. I burn easily."

Franki snickered. "Uh-huh. And I'm Snow White."

Craig snorted his opinion of that comparison. In a screaming-red bikini that covered almost as much skin as a piece of dental floss, she looked about as guileless as the wicked queen.

"Such a shame," continued Franki, "to see all that supple flesh go to waste." Craig glared at her as she turned to Bree. "The old cliche is so true, isn't it? Just when you think you've found Mr. Right-your kindred spirit, the man of your dreams-you find out he's either married or gay. Or both."

Bree glared at her friend and Craig saw something pass between them.

"You should really learn to play nice." Bree's voice could have frozen the pool. She turned and sauntered toward the house. "Or you'll never even snag one of those elusive semi-desirable heterosexuals." She passed Derek and Perry who had left their hideaway in the gazebo and were strolling toward the pool. "And you might even lose a friend or two, if you're not careful."

"Sheesh. Everybody's so touchy today." Franki turned to Craig. "How about you? Do you have anything to be mad at me about?"

Very deliberately, Craig turned away from her and looked at the boy who had wandered out onto the diving board. "What did you think of my little show, David?"

"It was pretty cool. You and Sloan are-" He clamped his mouth shut.

"We're what?"

The boy's gaze flicked to his uncle and Derek who had settled down in a deck chair. "Nothing."

Craig heard Franki slip into the pool, but he made a point of ignoring her. "You really seem to like the water," he continued to the boy. "And I saw you do one dive that showed a lot of potential. Would you like some pointers? I used to compete, back when I was a teenager. I even won once or twice. I've got a few tricks up my sleeve."

"You don't have any sleeves." Franki's whisper in his ear sent a parade of goose bumps down his arm, but he didn't have the time, or the inclination to address her. He focused on David who seemed to be considering the idea.

"If you come into the shallow end with me," he coaxed, "I could show you how to do that tucked somersault. You can practice it under water before trying it out in a dive."

David chewed on his lower lip and his eyes flicked again to his uncle and Derek who had sat down beside him.

Craig pushed off the side of the pool and approached the board. He grabbed the end and with one mighty kick pulled himself up until his chest rested on the vinyl.

David backed up a step.

"Come on," he said through a grin. "I won't bite. Sloan's busy, and I don't have anybody else to play with." He held out his hand... And David scrambled away from him so fast that Craig was afraid he might fall and crack his head on the concrete.

"N-no way," sputtered David. "I...uh..." He blushed. "I mean, no thanks." He continued backing away, his eyes as wary as if Craig were threatening him with a pistol instead of an outstretched hand.

"David!" said Franki, her tone surprisingly harsh. "That's no way to act toward a friend of Sloan's who is trying to be nice to you."

"I just don't want to, okay?" His eyes shifted to the house. "I don't like diving."

"That's not true," argued Franki. "You dive at home all the time."

"Leave him be," said Craig softly. "He didn't exactly bite my head off. If he doesn't want to dive, he doesn't have to."

"Where's Mom and Dad? I wanna go home."

"David, you should-"

"Franki," pleaded Craig. "Please..."

She frowned at him, but didn't have a chance to answer before Perry cut in. "Listen to him, Franki.

Leave the kid alone." Perry's words slurred a little, and Craig suspected he and Derek had finished off a six-pack or two during the course of the picnic.

Perry swaggered over to the group. "David's finally showing a glimmer of good sense that obviously skipped a generation in his family."

Franki rounded on him. "What? What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"You know what it means. You all have such open minds that your brains have leaked out. David, here, has the good sense to keep his distance from an-an-an aberration like him." He nodded toward Craig who was torn between rage and stark embarrassment.

Franki burst out of the pool and stalked up to Perry. Considering the color of her face at that moment, Craig was surprised that he couldn't hear the water sizzling on her skin.

"Are you implying," she shot back, "that Craig's and Sloan's sexual preferences somehow makes them second-class citizens, not worthy of an imperious Elliott's coveted company?"

"Oh, get off your high horse, Franki. You know most queers would give their left nut to have a chance to grope a cute little boy like David over there."