My Boy

Gil has always been in control of his life. Not strict control -- he does not live a regimented life, and he knows that the unexpected can and will happen. It isn't that he tries to make everything happen just the way he wants it to. Rather, he knows enough about himself and the world, and about what he wants and doesn't want, that when he makes his choices he feels certain he knows what will happen.

He's never been the 'blind leap' kind of guy. He sees too much, understands too much, that as soon as he considers his options he already knows the likely outcomes. The less likely outcomes occur to him quickly, and before he has a chance to make his choice, he's thought through all the unlikely results.

It's just the way he is, and he's fine with that. He rather enjoys the sense of security it gives him. Even if he doesn't need to know exactly which outcome will occur, he has always been able to say that he knew it was a possibility.

So, in effect, he's always been in control of his life. Very little has ever surprised him -- in his own life. On the job, he is constantly learning new things about people, about how they treat each other, and how to study the evidence to discover what really happened. On the job.

In his personal life, it seems that every single day has always been something of a certainty.

Which is how he is at a complete loss to explain this. Gil has never shied away from his attraction to both genders. He's never discounted the chance he would someday fall in love. He's always known it was possible that he would live with someone -- married or not -- and that his entire life would be changed.

He's known that. He's been comfortable with that. In some sense, he thinks he has always been a little bit ready for it.

Gil knows, without a doubt, that he had not ever predicted this. Curled up in his bed, sound asleep, gripping the edge of Gil's pillow as if he knows Gil is thinking of getting up, leaving the bed. Nick looks -- if it's even possible -- younger asleep than he does awake. A phenomenon common enough, and Gil can explain it as the relaxation of facial muscles, the loss of stress that eases the signs of age.

He doesn't bother explaining it, too focused on the thing he has never been able to fully understand. He knew when he fell in love, that he and Nick might end up together. Knew from that first moment of attraction that it was possible. He knew, the first time Nick pressed up against him and smiled, that it was likely.

He doesn't think this was likely. He knew going in what Nick was. That had never been an issue. But he's fairly sure that no one ever warned him about what it meant. He thinks now he should have looked into it. Researched a little. Asked any of the other wolves in Vegas all the questions that he's only just now discovering needed to be asked.

He knew Nick was a werewolf, and Gil thought he was prepared.

He has to admit he wasn't. With a sigh, he looks over the edge of the bed at the floor. He'll just buy another pair of shoes, and he'll plan on buying a new pair as often as he has to.

In his sleep, Nick gives a little whine and reaches out. Gil smiles and lays down, being pulled into a cuddle as soon as he's close.

It doesn't surprise him that Nick would chew on things -- it's something wolves, all canines, do. But he's pretty sure he never predicted that Nick would do so in human form.

He's also pretty sure Nick knows why he did it, despite refusing to answer when Gil found him at the desk, the toe of Gil's shoe already partially destroyed.

the end