Cal opened the internal garage door and stepped into the hallway. He could hear the extractor fan going in the kitchen and the sound of a children's TV show coming from the living room. He kicked his shoes off immediately, in the hallway, letting his burning feet get some fresher air. It was so hot! Worse summer on record. On Cal's record that was. He missed the air-conditioning of his car already and he'd barely made it two steps inside.

"I'm home!" He hollered in no particular direction. Lewis wouldn't hear him yelling from another room. But Gillian would. He made his way to the dining room and dropped the stack of folders he had brought home with him to maybe work on later (not that he managed to get much work done at home these days but still...). He started unbuttoning his shirt, while wondering what had inspired him to 'dress up' on this particular day. There were no meetings he had to attend, no special occasions...

"Wow," Gillian spoke up from the door way. "If I had known I was getting a strip show I would have brought in some dollar bills."

Cal pulled his shirt off his shoulders. "It's way too hot for wearin' these kinds of clothes." He peeled his socks off. "My nice clothes don't exactly help keep my internal body temperature down," he complained, as if it had been her idea to wear them.

"Mine either," Gillian added with a quirked eyebrow. She smiled and turned back towards the kitchen while Cal grinned after her and undid his trousers. Stripped down to his underwear he took his clothes to the bedroom, feeling much cooler already even though the house was warm, and pulled on long shorts only. He went to the living room to greet his son, who was actually watching something educational on cable.

"Oh!" Lewis spotted his father and immediately scrambled down off the couch to put his arms around Cal's legs. His face said 'oh my god! Where have you been, I've missed you so much!' Cal lifted him easily under the arms and hugged him tightly. He kissed his head. "Hello," he greeted, his hands tied up and unable to sign the greeting too. He knew Lewis could hear words, but he also knew some of them slipped through the gaps. Hearing aids helped amplify sound but they weren't exclusive. They would also make the TV seem louder and the noise coming from the kitchen. Lewis could probably hear the rumble of Cal's voice but not exactly what he had said. Cal knew, because in an exercise of understanding what his son was going through, he'd listened to audio that simulated what it would be like for someone who had similar hearing problems as Lewis; with and without hearing aids. He kissed Lewis again and returned him to the couch. Greetings over, Lewis, wearing a t-shirt and nappy only, went back to watching the TV avidly.

Cal moved through to the kitchen and attempted to sneak up on his wife, who was washing lettuce at the sink, but she heard him just as he was about to slip his arms around her waist and so half turned towards him. She turned fully inside his embrace and planted a kiss on his lips. "How was the rest of your aftanoon?" Cal asked.

"Great. Lewis napped, I did laundry and other household chores. Very productive."

Cal nodded.

"Yours? Did you read that file?"

Cal's face crumbled.

"Cal!" Gillian admonished lightly. It was more like a complaint.

"No I read it!" Cal curbed her. "I just forgot to bring it home. It's on my desk."

"And?" She prompted.

"He's all right."

Gillian watched him for a moment. "Care to elaborate?"

"I don't know what you want me to say," Cal stepped away because it really was very hot and she was also very warm. "If you like him, I trust your decision."

"Yes but you have to work alongside him so I want you to also be comfortable with him."

Cal leaned against the bench, he spied a piece of cucumber that was meant for the salad they were having with whatever else it was that Gillian was cooking. Gillian belatedly slapped his hand away. "Why do I have to work alongside him?" Cal asked.

"Because he's going to be taking over from me."

"And where are you gonna be?" Cal was suspicious and a little confused, but mostly scared that she was about to tell him she wanted to quit all together.

"You know I'm only there in the mornings. And most of the time I'm just doing paper work, like pay roll and staff evaluations and meeting with the accountant before I have to get Lewis from day care." They were working up to him staying longer but for now, with the complications of hearing aids and speech therapy, it was important for him to have consistency; only Cal or Gillian were allowed to put the hearing aids on or off or change the batteries or change the volume. They wanted Lewis to understand that intrinsically first and foremost; he was not allowed to mess around with them himself.

"Right," Cal swallowed his cucumber. He assessed his chances of getting another piece but it seemed Gillian was watching him closely now. "Can I help?"

"No I've got it," she gave him a warm smile. "We need someone else trained up who can help Ria and Eli and you, if you need it, with the psychological stuff."

Cal waved his hand in dismissal.

"No," Gillian smirked. "Of course you don't need help."

"I like your help. I like it when we work cases togetha. Kind of the point of me gettin' down on my knees to beg you to come and work with me."

Gillian smiled again. "I know," she looked over at him. "But things have changed since then Cal. We have a son who at the moment needs more of our time."

"Your time."

"Well honey," she reached out and stroked his cheek. "You're the talent. You kind of have to be at work."

That was true.

"All right then. Docta Roberts," Cal brought the subject back around.

"Put him with Eli, teach him the science, get him to learn your ways and he can help do speech and word analysis and those things."

"Shrinky things?"

"Yes."

"Not takin' ova from you?"

"Picking up the slack."

"Right."

Gillian put the knife down and turned to face him. "Cal, I promise you, I'm not going anywhere. I'm not making a strategic exit, I'm just trying to supply something the business needs."

"Right," Cal nodded. The sun shone into her eyes suddenly making them glow. Gillian shifted her head a second later so she could look at him clearly again.

"So I can set up an interview with Doctor Roberts for Monday?"

"All right," Cal agreed, snagging a cherry tomato.

"Hey!" Gillian complained. "Go set the table."

Cal casually crossed the room. He pulled mats into place on the table top. "Has Lewis eaten?"

"Not yet."

Cal pulled his high chair out from the wall to sit between their places at the big table.

"I'm digging you in shorts. Nice to see those sexy legs of yours."

"Don't look at them directly," Cal turned to see her checking him out. He approached her to get plates from the cupboard; two normal ones and the little plastic plate with raised edges and Thomas the Tank engine imprinted on the centre for Lewis. "You might get snow strike."

Gillian laughed lightly. "Maybe if you got them out a bit more often they wouldn't be so pasty white."

"Doesn't matta," Cal left the plates on the bench so Gillian could serve up. He went to the drawer of cutlery; a normal knife and fork for the adults and a large blue plastic 'spork' for Lewis. "It's genetic."

"I hope Lewis didn't get those genes then."

"I hope he got all of yours," Cal took the utensils to the table and doled them out to their appropriate homes.

Gillian started serving out the salad. "You know what we should do tomorrow?"

"I can think of many things, but probably not what you're gonna say."

"If it's hot like this again, we should take Lewis to the lake."

"Which one?"

"Any one."

"Every single lake in the vicinity is at least two hours away," Cal complained.

"Fair point. A pool then," Gillian reached into the oven and produced an oven dish. Cal stretched up on his tip toes to see what it was. Macaroni and cheese. One of his favourites.

"Yum."

Gillian turned to see him peering. "Thought you might say that."

PJ

Lewis liked macaroni cheese a lot too. So much so he ignored his 'spork' and used his fingers instead. And so like usual he managed to mash the pasta into his hair and all over his face and highchair. Cal took him to have a bath, ignoring the violent protests at having pasta picked out of his nose. Once he was clean Cal let him play and sat on the bathroom floor to read through some of the files he had brought home with him. Gillian did the dishes; her choice over bathing Lewis, and then retired to their bedroom to read. Lewis stood up to announce he'd had enough. He tried to climb out of his own accord so Cal scrambled to his feet to lift Lewis out. While he reached for Lewis's towel the two year old ran screaming from the room. Cal winced, worried that he might slip on the tiles and followed closely behind.

Lewis was pushing the master bedroom door open when Cal caught up to him. He wrapped the towel around the little body and lifted him off his feet easily. Lewis giggled and screeched loudly through his laughter. From the bed Gillian watch amused. "Nearly had an escapee," Cal explained, turning and taking Lewis to his bedroom to get dressed.

"Nappy," Cal told him first after drying him off. He had to use both hands to make the correct sign, simulating the sticky tabs on his hips. Lewis dutifully lay himself down on the floor and stuck his feet in the air so Cal could put it on him. Cal didn't know the sign for 'pyjama's' but Lewis knew the routine by now. Cal lifted him up to see into his drawers and he picked out the thin summer ones with red trains patterned across the shirt and shorts. Cal helped Lewis step into the clothes and buttoned the shirt. He put Lewis's hearing aids back on, which still was, even after nine months of wearing them, something Lewis fought him on. But he wore them for story time, so he would get used to hearing words, and story time was an integral part of the going-to-bed ritual.

Cal smoothed Lewis's hair down into some sort of order and then took him to the bathroom to brush his teeth. After that was done Cal told him to go and see 'Mummy'; open palm facing outwards and resting on the cheek. Lewis squealed and raced from the room while Cal thought that wasn't exactly winding down for the evening. Still in the bathroom, Cal let the dirty water out of the bath, and up ended a few toys to make sure everything drained away. He hung up Lewis's towel and the bathmat and spot dried a few places on the tiles Lewis had left watery footprints. He gathered up his files and took them back to the dining room, where his laptop was waiting for him. He could hear Gillian and Lewis cuddled up on the couch for story time (they were also trying to get him used to not being in their bed as part of bedtime). Cal hesitated. Work? Or family time?

He went to the living room and sat on Lewis's other side so he could read the story too. Or at least, read over Lewis's shoulder. Gillian continued without missing a beat. Cal reached his arm over the back of the couch and brushed his fingers against her shoulder. It was getting cooler in the evening but her skin was hot to the touch. After three stories it was time for Lewis to say his goodnights. Cal gave him a tight hug and a kiss before Gillian led him by the hand to his room. Cal went back to his lap top and those files. As he logged on to check his mail he decided to look up the sign for sweet dreams and that idea triggered a memory. A sign Gillian had made to him that afternoon. He brought up the main website he used and hesitated. How did he search by sign? He tried cross referencing and had no luck. So, on a hunch, he used Wikipedia. Sure enough the sign was on there under cuss words. Cal found another one and practiced it until he could do it without hesitation.

"Oi," Cal approached where Gillian was back to lying on the bed reading.

She looked up at him. "Yes Cal?"

"You called me an asshole."

She looked blank for a minute and then she grinned. "Took you a while."

"I forgot about it," Cal cut her off. "Here's my response," and he made the 'D' letter with his hand and brought it to his nose.

Gillian laughed. "Really? That's the best you could come up with?"

"Well I was gonna suggest somethin' else, but I didn't have time to look up suck."

Gillian sat up suddenly and grabbed him by the hips. "Ok."

"I was just kiddin'," Cal told her while her slender fingers undid the catch on his shorts and pushed them down his hips. He looked to the doorway, fearful their son could walk in, while she peeled back underwear. "Gill," he tried again. She gave a little 'hmm' of delight and he felt it straight in his groin. "Lewis?" He asked in a strained voice as she ran her fingers down the length of him.

"He's asleep. I went and checked on him five minutes ago."

Cal glanced at the clock, all the while blood rushed south as his heart started to pound. He'd spent twenty minutes on research. Eight times out of ten, Lewis would toddle off to bed quite happily and go to sleep immediately. One of those times he would go to bed happily and then continually get up. The other time he would fight going to bed and scream the house down.

And then Cal wasn't thinking about anything but his wife's hot mouth, her very wet tongue and the firm pressure of her cool fingers.