Author's Note: Ahhhh! This story is fast becoming one of my favorites to write on. Let me know what you guys think. And the song in the next chapter is mine. Read it. I am dying to know what you guys think of the lyrics because they just floored me as I wrote them. Smiles!

Tommy…

"You're…." Tom's mother began as he entered the kitchen where she now stood only to have him interrupt her as he slammed an empty cup into his kitchen sink. Thank God it was plastic.

"Don't." He answered her unasked question stealthily as she planted her hands on her hips and approached him steadily. She was as stubborn as her son.

"You're…" She began again as he threw another dish into the sink before turning toward her with a frown.

"I said don't. Just don't. I already know all the arguments—all the play by plays on anything you can throw at me. Hell, I've argued myself into an entire bottle of whiskey and four packs of cigarettes in a single sitting. So don't go spouting off about why the hell you may be wondering what may be going on between me and my artist or about how she's just a child because I will break something, Mere. I'm not in the mood." He almost yelled as Catalina just shrugged before looking up at the cabinet.

"I was just going to ask where you keep your cream and sugar, but just like the way you did when you were a boy, you were always good about spilling too much information. At least now I know where you stand on this, son." Catalina forced out between her suddenly smiling lips as Tommy leaned heavily against his counter—clenching and unclenching his fists as he remembered his Jude moment in the hallway. And yeah, he had started thinking of her that way—a moment—a weakness like candy when your sweet tooth beckons. His mother just watched him a moment—noting the strain around his eyes before turning to walk back toward the living room. He followed her—grabbing her suddenly by the shoulder as she started to open the door.

"It's wrong isn't it? I'm perverted right? Just tell me it's wrong." He almost pleaded with her as she let go of the door long enough to run her hand along his jaw—amazed at the afternoon shadow that grazed her palm. He had grown so much.

"Maybe you should start asking yourself different questions, Thomas. Something along the lines of whether or not it's right. Because nothing is ever truly wrong until you make it that way. I don't know yet myself how I feel about it. Maybe time will tell." She answered vaguely as Tommy just shook his head slowly.

"Why can't you ever just speak in English?" He complained as she just smiled before pushing open the door.

"Because then I wouldn't have so much fun watching you try to figure out what I meant." She replied as a sudden pounding noise reverberated throughout the house. Everyone in the living room looked up in surprise.

"Got you a little firecracker in that artist of yours, don't you brother?" Tom's brother Matthew asked him in obvious amusement as another pounding sound echoed throughout the room again. Matthew quirked a brow. Yeah, Matthew and Thomas….so Catalina was Catholic. She felt compelled to name her sons after what Jesus referred to as the 'fisher's of men.' Tom grabbed onto the wall until his knuckles turned white as the pounding noise happened again. Jude!