"Stetson." Lee wasn't really paying attention when he answered the phone, deep into trying to figure out his receipts for last month. He was supposed to have had help from Amanda who seemed to understand the paperwork at a cellular level that defied logic, but Francine had snagged her for a good-girl/ bad-hooker routine she was running and he'd been laughingly abandoned to figure it out alone.

"Is this Mr. Stetson? Mr. Lee Stetson?" asked a brusquely professional voice.

"Yes, it is – may I ask who's calling?" he asked, absently trying to read his own handwriting on one of the many scraps of paper littering his desk.

"My name is Leanne Webster – I'm calling from the Virginia Hospital Center in Arlington…"

The receipt fluttered to the floor, forgotten instantly as Lee shot to his feet. "What's happened? Is it Amanda?"

"No, I'm calling in regards to Phillip King – we tried to phone his mother …"

Lee vaguely remembered ignoring the phone ringing on her desk a few minutes ago and swallowed heavily. "She's out of the office at the moment – what's happened? Is he okay?"

"He's fine, just a few stitches but he needs to be picked up by a legal guardian."

"His father…"

"I'm sorry, according to my notes, he told us his father is out of the country? Works in Africa somewhere…" There was the sound of papers rustling. "Es-tock-ia?"

"Estoccia," Lee corrected her automatically. "Excuse me, you said he had stitches? Did he hit his head?"

"My notes say stitches to the chin."

"I'm on my way – but could you have a doctor check him again before I get there? I think he may have a concussion."

"We do check for that, Mr. Stetson. We're not idiots." The woman's voice had turned icy.

"I didn't mean to imply anything else," said Lee, already pulling on his coat. "But since his father has been home from Africa since 1985, you can see why I'm questioning it."

"He has? Then I should call…"

"Don't bother," said Lee. "I'm closer."

"But are you a legal guardian?" Ms. Webster stammered. "We can't just hand him over to anyone." But Lee had already hung up.

Lee was over in Arlington in a matter of minutes, thankful for light traffic on the Parkway. Striding into the emergency room, it was also one of those moments to be thankful that he could flash a badge and walk through the closed doors in search of Phillip. A harried but helpful nurse pointed him to a room at the end of the hall, and he opened the door quietly, heart seizing when he saw him.

Phillip was sitting in a chair, body slouching with his head tipped back against the wall, eyes closed, mouth slightly open. Lee could see the dark stain of stitches across his chin and the discoloration of the bruising that was already visible. Under the fluorescent lights, he looked slightly grey and unnaturally still. But it was the blood that was giving Lee a heart attack - the shirt Phillip was wearing was covered in it, and although Lee knew clinically in some part of his brain that face injuries bleed a lot and that it was nowhere near as bad as it looked, it was still too much like seeing Amanda with that gunshot wound, and the way the blood had spread across her sweater that day.

He realized he was swaying slightly, and reached out to grasp the door frame, closing his eyes to take in a deep breath. He must have made a slight noise because when he opened them, he found Phillip had opened his eyes too and was watching him warily.

"Hey Lee, you ok?"

He had to laugh at that. "Shouldn't I be asking that, Chief? I'm not the one in a hospital room."

"Yeah, but I just cut my chin open – you look like you're going to pass out."

"No, I just… I just really hate hospitals." He walked over and crouched in front of his step-son, looking into his eyes. "How are you? What happened?"

"We were playing road hockey and I slipped on a patch of ice and fell on my chin. Split it wide open."

"How did you get here?" Lee asked, questioning gently, still trying to decide if he had a concussion.

"Mrs. Barton drove me, but she had to go pick up her daughter from ballet, so she couldn't stay. I said I'd call Mom and it would be fine. But then the nurse couldn't get hold of her, so I said to call you instead."

"Did the doctor come back and check you after she talked to me?"

"Yeah, he came and checked my eyes and stuff. How come?"

"Did he say if you have a concussion?"

"He said he didn't think so?"

"Well, then I think I'd better find him to check again," said Lee firmly.

"How come? I feel fine," protested Phillip. "Come on, Lee, can't you just spring me? I wanna go home."

"Well the thing is, Chief… the nurse told me you said your dad was still in Estoccia, and he's been home for two years now. Did you forget?" Lee was now prodding Phillips's head looking for bumps.

"Oh, that," said Phillip, evasively.

Lee drew back and looked at him more closely. "Oh, that? Did you tell them your dad was out of the country on purpose? Why would you do that?"

"Well, see, the thing is… Dad can't stand the sight of blood – he practically passes out when he sees it, so I didn't want to call him when I looked like this."

Lee glanced down at Phillip's shirt and felt his stomach roil again. He closed his eyes and waited for the feeling to pass.

"But maybe you're just as bad?" asked Phillip, uncertainly.

"Not normally," admitted Lee, opening his eyes but keeping his gaze fixed on a point above Phillip's head. "Just with people I care about."

"Oh. Oh!" Phillip's face went from confusion to horror as he connected the dots. "I shouldn't have called you! I'm sorry."

Lee's hand clamped down on his shoulder. "Of course you should have called me! Don't ever worry about doing that!"

"Are you Mr. Stetson?" asked the nurse who had just walked into the examining room.

"Yes, I am," replied Lee, straightening up. "Can I take Phillip home?"

"Yes, right after you sign off on the discharge papers. And of course, only if you're a legal guardian." She looked up from the papers at the silence. "You are, aren't you?"

"I, uh…" Lee cursed himself for not thinking of grabbing the copy of the paperwork from the Q Bureau safe. He gave Phillip a quick glance, wondering how he was going to get out of this, then back at the nurse helplessly.

"He's my step-father," Phillip piped up.

Lee turned to stare at him, jaw dropping open.

"But he's so new at it that he forgets sometimes." Phillip gave him an encouraging nod, then turned to the nurse again. "You wouldn't think he could after my grandma made them have that huge ceremony, but you know what? Just last night, he drove back to his old apartment in D.C., instead of going to our house and then he had to turn around and drive all the way back to Arlington! Mom almost killed him – she'd made soufflé because it's his favourite and then it fell because he was late getting home. I guess that's what they mean by newlywed brain, right, Pops?"

Lee continued to gape at him, trying not to give into the laugh that threatened at Phillip's wide-eyed innocent look.

"Is that right?" asked the nurse, doubtfully. She had the same stunned look from Phillip's rambling story that Lee was pretty certain he'd perfected back in the day.

"Um, yeah, that's right," answered Lee, finally getting his voice back. "Still getting used to it, you know?"

"I don't know…" said the nurse, looking back and forth between them. "I'm supposed to see something official…"

"Well, Phillip's hardly a child and he's just vouched for me, but how about you just take note of my ID and then if there's a problem, you have my details?" said Lee.

She looked back and forth at them again, aware she had an emergency room full of patients and an easy way out to free up some space. "I suppose that might be alright," she conceded.

Lee moved so that he was between Phillip and the nurse, reached into his jacket pocket, then held out his badge to the nurse, who looked up at him with sudden understanding. "Now, can I take him home?"

"Oh! Of course," she nodded, handing him the discharge sheets. "You can see the cashier on the way out to cover the bill."

Lee signed the papers and handed her back the clipboard, then watched her leave, before turning back to Phillip, who was looking faintly sick.

What's the matter? Are you alright? Do you need the doctor to come back?" Lee asked, worried.

"I never thought – I didn't mean for you to have to pay…" said Phillip in a strangled voice. "I should have called Dad."

"Phillip, it's fine. After all, I'm your step-father, right? Gotta get used to having expensive kids," teased Lee, already thinking ahead to how much this story would either amuse Amanda or horrify her at realizing how easily Phillip had just lied – or thought he had - to that nurse. "Consider it your Christmas present."

Phillip actually looked so relieved that Lee finally did start to laugh.

"Chief, I'm kidding! But seriously, don't sweat it – I'll put it through on the IFF insurance, that is, I mean, your mom will, okay?" He waited for Phillip to nod, then held out a hand to help him to his feet. "Then let's get out of here."

Phillip ignored the hand and jumped to his feet, grabbing his equally blood-spattered coat and headed for the door. "You brought the 'Vette, right?"

"Phil-lip Thom-as King! You did not call me instead of your dad just to get a ride in the 'Vette, did you?"

Phillip's look of guilt was enough to set him off laughing again.

"Wow, Lee, you sound exactly like Mom when you say things like that!"

"Well, gotta learn those parent skills from someone right?" answered Lee, guiding him down the hallway to the payment desk. "Since it seems like I might need the practice."

Phillip's pace slowed a smidgen as he looked up at Lee. "You might?"

"Maybe someday," teased Lee.

"Someday?"

"Well, Chief, I'm getting up there, you know. If I want to try being a dad, I better start thinking about it."

"Huh." Phillip waited a moment and then asked tentatively, "Any particular plan for how you might, y'know, try to be a dad?"

"Well, Son, when a man and a woman really love each other…" Lee intoned.

"Gahhhh!" Phillip slammed his hands over his ears. "Lee!"

Lee burst out laughing and dropped his arm across his shoulders. "Come on, let's get you home."