'Are you sure?' Caitlin asked as Hawke placed their son in the baby carrier and straightened.
'I'm sure.' Hawke said gesturing at the sleeping infant. 'He's fed, changed and bathed. I think Saint John and I can cope with keeping an eye on him whilst you take a bubble bath.'
Caitlin gave in; the offer of time to pamper herself too good to pass up. She leaned over and kissed Hawke. 'Yell if you need anything.' She escaped before the men could change their minds.
Hawke picked up the carrier and went over to the sofa where his brother had sat and watched the exchange with amusement. He placed the carrier carefully beside Saint John and went back into the kitchen to grab a couple of beers.
Saint John accepted the bottle with a frown. 'Should we be drinking if we're looking after him?'
Hawke's lips twitched. He'd asked the same question when his father-in-law had handed him a beer the second night they'd been home. 'One beer isn't going to hurt, Saint John and besides, Cait's still sober.'
His older brother's hazel eyes cleared and he nodded. They had all stuck with water at dinner. Saint John settled back against the sofa cushions as his brother stoked the fire to a cheerful blaze and petted his dog. Hawke returned to the couch and peeked into the carrier to check his son was still sleeping.
'This suits you.' Saint John commented smiling.
Hawke's blue eyes snapped to his brother's. 'What?'
Saint John gestured at the domesticated scene around him. 'This. Marriage. Baby.'
Hawke shrugged a little embarrassed. He pointed his beer bottle at his brother. 'What about you?'
'What about me?' Saint John asked.
'Well, you've been back a while now,' Hawke pointed out, 'and if I remember right, you never had trouble getting female attention.'
Saint John took a gulp of beer and stared at the fire. 'It hasn't exactly been a priority for me.'
Hawke stretched out his legs, rubbed at his right calf where he still bore one of the scars from his brush with death. 'You should reconsider that. Life's too short.'
'Maybe you're right.' Saint John murmured.
'Well, if you don't make it a priority, Cait definitely will.' Hawke warned him.
'Cait?' Saint John asked with a laugh.
'My wife's a bit of a match-maker.' Hawke admitted.
Saint John assimilated the news about his sister-in-law without surprise. 'I kinda thought that when she asked me outright earlier if I was seeing anyone.' He gestured. 'She wasn't as subtle as you.'
Hawke smiled. 'That's my wife.'
'Well, like I told her. It's bit difficult to meet women when you keep getting sent out on Airwolf missions.' Saint John said.
'I can't remember that being a problem for me.' Hawke teased.
'That's what she said.' Saint John retorted.
Hawke gave a short laugh and took a sip of beer.
'Mike thinks I'm having an affair with a married woman.' Saint John said idly.
Hawke raised an inquisitive eyebrow.
'All the times I'm disappearing to see you.' Saint John clarified. 'The sneaked phone calls to Cait when you were in the hospital.'
'I guess it's difficult.' Hawke murmured. 'Keeping it from them all.'
Saint John rubbed his thumb down the neck of the bottle. 'About that…'
'You want to tell them.' Hawke stated. His heart sank. He kinda liked the fact that he and Caitlin were to all extents and purposes dead to the rest of the world outside their immediate family and closest friends. Saint John himself was partially responsible for that having the muddied waters about Hawke's fate when he'd taken him to a clinic in Switzerland to recover from the injuries he'd sustained in the explosion that had killed Dom. Caitlin was still officially dead as no-one had corrected the system after her death had been faked in a kidnapping attempt. They had needed the protection of everyone believing they were dead whilst Caitlin had been pregnant and Hawke had been recovering especially since Dom's killer had still been at large and even though that wasn't a consideration anymore Hawke still liked their invisibility.
'Not everyone.' Saint John muttered. 'Just Jo.'
Hawke took a gulp of beer and didn't reply.
'String, she's family.' Saint John argued. 'I don't know what I would have done without her these past months. She's helped me get my feet, been there for me. I'm not real comfortable keeping her in the dark now that you are all safe and Dom's killer is dead.'
Hawke sighed. Jo Santini was Dom's niece and she'd been like a sister to him and Saint John when they had been kids being raised together by her uncle. By the sound of it, Saint John had re-established that familial relationship with the young blonde pilot, probably in part due to their working together in the Airwolf team. Hawke could understand it. He had just started to rebuild his own ties with Jo when the explosion had happened but that had been after overcoming his own distrust at finding out that she had worked as an agent for the Company, a fact that she had hidden from himself and Dom and that knowledge still sat uneasy with Hawke.
'Will you at least consider it, String?' Saint John asked.
Hawke glanced at his brother's serious expression. 'OK. I'll consider it but no promises. It's not entirely my decision; I have to talk to Cait.'
Saint John sighed. 'Thanks.'
'So what excuse did you use to get away for the weekend?' Hawke asked curious.
'I told them I was heading into the mountains to meditate.'
'Meditate?' Hawke repeated amused.
Saint John smiled. 'Isn't that what Dad used to call fishing? Meditation?'
'Yeah.' Hawke shook his head. 'I'd forgotten that.' He looked over at his brother. 'Do you think about them a lot? Mom and Dad, I mean.'
'All the time especially now I'm back here.' Saint John admitted. 'It's kinda weird knowing that I'm older than Dad was when he died.'
'Yeah.' Hawke took a gulp of beer.
'He would have been proud of you.' Saint John noted.
Hawke looked up surprised. 'I think he would have been proud of us both.'
Saint John grimaced. 'I'm not sure he would have understood me staying away for sixteen years.'
Hawke kept silent. He still wasn't sure he understood it himself. He and Saint John had spoken about the reasons why he'd chosen to stay away, about the practical difficulties of contacting loved ones when he was deep undercover and the fear of losing his freedom and being consumed by the responsibility of looking out for his younger brother again. On one hand, Hawke could see the truth of it, even empathise, but on the other…his brother had chosen to keep Hawke out of his life for a long time and that still hurt.
'He and Dom would have liked the name you picked out for your son.' Saint John commented. Hawke and Caitlin had named their first born after both men; Dominic Alan.
Hawke smiled. 'It was Cait's suggestion.'
Saint John swallowed a mouthful of beer. 'What about her Dad?'
'Patrick didn't mind. He really liked Dom and I think he understood.' Hawke said. 'Although he did say he expected the next one to be named after him.'
'The next one.' Saint John glanced down at the baby. 'How many are you having?'
'I don't know.' Hawke admitted. 'We're just kinda getting used to this one.'
Saint John picked up on the carefully hidden nerves in his brother's expressionless face. 'You're doing great, String.'
Hawke stroked a lock of brown hair across his son's forehead. 'Yeah. I guess we're doing OK.'
Saint John smiled. 'You're very lucky.'
'I know.' Hawke said. He smiled back at his brother. 'Like I said, you should try it for yourself.'
'Maybe I will.' Saint John conceded. 'If I find someone half as great as Cait.'
Hawke smiled at the mention of his wife. 'She is the best.'
'She's good for you.' Saint John said.
'That's what Dom used to say.' Hawke noted.
Saint John looked over at his brother. 'You miss him.'
'Yeah.' Hawke admitted. He missed the older man who had raised him after his parents' deaths more than any words could express but he'd had a strange dream when he'd been injured; one where he'd said goodbye to the gruff pilot. 'I'll always be backing you, kid.' Hawke clung to those words like a talisman. He liked the idea Dom was still somewhere in the ether looking out for him.
Saint John sensed a change of subject was needed. 'So are you still planning to work for Briggs?'
Hawke's lips quirked at his brother's shortening of Michael's name. 'Yes, I'm still planning to work for Michael.'
'Are you sure it's the right thing to do? Saint John said.
'He's a friend.' Hawke said simply. 'A good one.'
'He's a spy.' Saint John said. 'A pretty ruthless one at that.' He looked down at his beer before he caught his brother's gaze with his own. 'I checked out his file.'
'I bet that made interesting reading.' Hawke said wryly.
'String…'
'Saint John.' Hawke interrupted him. 'I know you have your doubts about Michael and I'm not denying what he is but underneath the spy act, he's a good man.'
'I know you two have gotten close.' Saint John said.
'I trust him, Saint John.' Hawke replied simply.
Saint John shifted uncomfortably. 'I just think you haven't considered all your options. You know Dom left you the air service. Jo would give it back to you in a heartbeat…'
'I'm not going back there.' Hawke snapped. He took a deep breath and leaned forward. The crackle of the flames sent a shiver down his spine as he flashed back to the explosion in front of the Santini Air hangar. 'I don't think I'll ever be able to go back there.' He said in a calmer tone. 'Too many memories.'
'Well, you could work with us.' Saint John said. 'You're still the most experienced Airwolf pilot around and…'
'You didn't contact me for sixteen years because you didn't want us joined at the hip anymore and now you're suggesting we start working together again?' Hawke said sceptically. 'You'd hate it.'
'I wouldn't.' Saint John denied automatically even as he recognised the truth in his brother's words.
'Well, I would.' Hawke retorted.
'Look, String…'
'No, you look.' Hawke interrupted him sharply. 'I'm not expecting you to trust Michael but I do expect you to respect that I know what I'm doing. I don't need you doing the protective older brother thing.'
There was a tense silence.
Saint John dropped his gaze. 'I guess I kinda lost that right, huh?'
Hawke sighed. 'Hell. Look, I'm sorry if I…' he forced himself to look at his brother. 'It's just…'
'You're not used to having me watch your back anymore.' Saint John completed when his brother struggled to find the words.
'No, I'm not.' Hawke said.
'Well, I am your older brother, String.' Saint John said firmly. 'And whether you like it or not, I am going to be looking out for you.'
Hawke held his gaze for a heartbeat. 'Will you back off Michael?'
Saint John sighed. 'I'll consider it.'
They sat in silence for a while both absorbing what had been said; what had been left unsaid.
Saint John sighed again deeply. 'I didn't think it was going to be this hard.'
Hawke glanced over at him. 'I know.' He met his brother's rueful expression with one of his own. 'We're both going to have to work more at getting past this.'
Saint John nodded. 'Deal.'
The beer bottles clinked softly. The baby stirred and their attention shifted gratefully to their next generation.
