Stories are in no particular order.

Chapter 1- Sleeping arrangements

Quietly, Boris crept into the room that he and Marissa shared. It was the dead of night, and he didn't want to wake her. He was supposed to stay overnight in New York, but couldn't bear to be away from her for too long; not after the near disastrous defection that led to her imprisonment.

As he stood in front the mirror and slowly undressed, he stared at his reflection. 'I am going to be a father.'

He was sure that most men were rather thrilled to say something like this. Instead he sighed and looked down at his feet. 'I am so sorry, Marissa.'

A loud male snore came from the bed, and with a look of incredulity, Boris looked around. His heart rate came down to more human levels, when he recognized the curly hair.

Quietly, he slipped his knife back into the sheath under his jacket and raised a quizzically eyebrow at the doctor sleeping in his lover's bed, curled around his battered medical bag. However, after all they had been through together, Boris was willing to give the young man the benefit of the doubt.

As if sensing the return of the other half of her heart, Marissa opened her eyes and smiled softly. Of course, Boris immediately pointed at the doctor in the bed beside her with a questioning look.

'I asked him to come,' not bothering to whisper as Hank rumbled quietly, sleeping the sleep of the exhausted and deserving. 'He thought it was an emergency, but I just wanted some company.'

Boris kissed her hand in understanding. He knew she was lonely in the big mansion; another reason for rushing back to the Hamptons.

'He fell asleep in the chair,' she continued to explain, 'but I pulled him down on the bed so he could stretch out. Not even in sleep did he let go of his medical bag.'

Quietly Boris left her side to shower and prepare for bed. Soon he returned, and for a moment wondered how best to eject the loyal doctor from his room.

'Let me do it,' Marissa suggested as her love reached out a hand to shake the other man awake, 'Hank?!'

The doctor mumbled but didn't open his eyes. 'Go away, Evan.'

'Hank?!' she tried again, patting his cheeks.

Their concierge doctor smiled in his sleep and curled around her hand, 'Jill?'

'Hank!' Boris roared in mild amusement, 'get out of my bed!'

The young doctor bolted up as if he had been electrocuted with a cattle prod. 'Boris! Oh god...please don't kill me!'

Hank looked around him as if hoping some reasonable explanation for all this would fall out of the sky; glaring at Marissa as she muffled her laughter with one hand.

'Well...I'll be leaving now,' the doctor mumbled, realising that Boris seemed more exasperated than murderous, as he picked himself up and stuffed his feet hastily into his shoes, 'Good night!'