So let me do the dishes in our kitchen sink

Put you to bed when you've had too much to drink.

Oh I could be the one who grows old with you.

I wanna grow old with you.

Adam Sandler, "Grow old with you"

Alistair stepped out of the elevator on the fifth floor of the Denerim City Precinct #6, or into the "murder pen" as it was fondly known as amongst the guards. He didn't understand the need to give it such a name, but there were a lot of things that went straight over his head. Nevermind Beatrice calling him brilliant, Alistair was fully aware that he was a bit slow on the uptake. He always had been, which must have been why the arrest of his brother Cailan had come as a complete shock. The fact that Cailan was the serial killer known as the angel-maker had been an even bigger shock.

Six years since the execution and Alistair still had days when he didn't believe it.

Aveline was at her desk, but she looked up and flashed a quick smile that didn't reach her eyes as he walked past her towards his own desk.

"Duncan wants to see you and Zevran" she said in that infernal neutral tone she had when she knew she was delivering bad news. "And Isabela called. She's found wood chips and white hair, if you find something to compare to. Full report is on its way."

"Thanks" Alistair muttered as he put his carry-mug on his desk. Beatrice had given it to him when she had at last grown tired of him having two sips of his morning coffee before scrambling out the door. Now she handed him his coffee before sending him off with a kiss and "be safe honey". There was still some coffee left in it, but he'd finish it later. And try to remember to rinse it out. Beatrice hated when he brought it home unwashed.

Zevran was on his way towards him from somewhere deeper in the pen, reading a print-out. With some sort of supernatural skill he managed to navigate through the smattering of desks and morning-tired detectives without looking up once, and Alistair felt just a bit bitter. If he tried to walk and read at the same time he invariably tripped over his own feet before finishing the first sentence.

"Morning" he said in that disgustingly cheery way he had when he hadn't slept the previous night.

"Morning" Alistair replied, yawning. "Duncan-"

"Wants to see us. I know. I was waiting for you." Zevran unceremoniously dumped the print-out on his desk and once more Alistair felt irrationally jealous at the casual beauty and grace of his partner. On his bad days, Zevran made him feel like a genlock right out of a children's book.

He forgot all about it, however, as Captain Duncan Kinloch glared at him from over gold-rimmed glasses. The captain's glasses had only been in service for about three months, but they looked right at home on his face. They also did absolutely nothing to soften his stern features. The neatly trimmed beard didn't help, either.

"Theirin. Arainai. Close the door." He ordered, and even though the captain was sitting down Alistair felt small. He closed the door.

"I expect you know why you're here." Duncan said after he had grown tired of seeing two grown men squirm like schoolboys before the headmaster. "The Hawke case."

He rested his elbows on the desk and interlocked his fingers in front of his face. This made his gaze intensify as his hands now covered most of his face.

"I have the chevalier breathing down my neck at the present, and I do not need him setting his vultures on me." he was referring to the internal affairs division. "So if there is the slightest concern raised from anyone that you two are the least bit prejudiced due to your connections to Anders, you are off the case faster than you can say 'compromised'. Understood?"

Alistair nodded, too unnerved to speak. Zevran muttered something that sounded suitably contrite.

Duncan gave them one last sharp look, then his face softened.

"I have told a lot of people that you two are my best men." he told them, "don't make me look stupid."

Thus dismissed, Alistair and Zevran fled back to the safety of the murder pen.

Kallian Tabris (born Andras, according to the records), was the adopted sister of Beatrice and Bela, younger than the twins by several years. At the present, she looked like a twelve year old child where she sat curled up in the large armchair when in fact she was twenty-two. Alistair knew this because the previous summer he had been yelled at by his wife for being an hour late for Kallian's birthday party. Kallian had long dark hair that fell around her face like a thin curtain, and her eyes seemed almost comically large in her face as she stared at the detectives. She wrapped her thin arms around her knees, as if trying to make herself even smaller. Perhaps she was trying to disappear into the worn, gaudy upholstery.

"Do you know why we're here, Kali?" Zevran asked carefully, not wanting to frighten the girl more than necessary. That was probably why he had chosen to call her by her nickname.

Kallian shook her head no.

"We just want to talk to you about Caelan Hawke." Kallian looked up from behind her hair, brown eyes anxious.

"I don't know anything." she said quickly. Alistair wondered why she was so skittish; this wasn't like Kali at all, he knew her as a strong, outspoken woman who refused to be intimidated by anyone.

"We're not saying you do" Alistair said placatingly as he pulled out his notebook and turned to a fresh page.

"But we have to talk to everyone. And you'll make it a lot easier for us if you give us as much information you can and answer all our questions, okay?" Kallian nodded slowly in confirmation.

"Okay. What do you want to know?" Her voice was nearly back to it's strong, confident normal. But not quite. And she had not yet unwound her arms.

"Where were you on the night Caelan was attacked?" Alistair began, having quickly jotted down the time, place, and people involved in the conversation. It wasn't a real questioning, not yet. They were just getting a feel for if she was involved.

"You know that!" She protested, "I was with you!"

"Please" Zevran interjected, "we have to do this by the book. Tell us about Thursday night."

Kallian swallowed hard, then it was as if she manually pulled herself together and began:
"I finished work at five, Vivienne - my boss - asked if I could stay a bit, we have a big presentation due soon and she wanted to check in with me. I got to your house - I mean my sister Beatrice's house - at around five thirty. We had a nice dinner - fish soup and chocolate cake, we were celebrating that Anders is going to propose to Caelan."

She stopped as her eyes filled with tears, and Zevran took the chance to interject a question.

"When did you leave for the theatre?"

"Uhm- the show started at eight, so- seven thirty? I think? Anders was- he was really happy, he told me that he'd-" she sniffled as tears filled her dark eyes. "He'd found the perfect ring at the jewellers and made a down payment, I- I was so happy, I made him promise I'll be a bridesmaid. Do you have bridesmaids when there isn't a bride?"

"No idea" Zevran said with a shrug. "I'm sure you can be one anyway." A ghost of a smile flashed over her face.

"So you went to the show" Alistair said, "did anyone see you at the theatre?"

"I don't know, but I still have my ticket, it's cut. I was going to put it in my bujo. I can go fetch it?"

"That won't be necessary. What time did it end?"

"Oh, i'm not sure, sorry, I wasn't looking at the time. It was late though, and getting chilly. So we hurried back to the car. I drove Anders home, and I dropped him off at eleven exactly."

"How do you know this?" Zevran wanted to know.

"Because the eleven o'clock news just came on when-" she stopped, paled, bit her lip.

"Please go on, Kallian."

"I- I saw Karl. On the street. Looking at- looking at the house."

"This is Karl Thekla? Anders' previous partner?"

Kallian's pale face momentarily twisted into a grimace of disgust.

"Abusive asshole." she spat. "I promised Anders-" she cut herself off abruptly, clenching her jaw as if trying to hold something in.

"Did anything happen after that?" Zevran asked, and Alistair wondered if he too sensed that there was something there she didn't want to say.

Kallian shook her head firmly.

"I drove home and went straight to bed. I'd promised I'd come over early and help Beatrice with her roses and needed the sleep."

And with that, there wasn't much more to it. Alistair thanked Kallian, said they'd see themselves out and left with Zevran in tow.

Kallian was left alone in the armchair, staring at something only she could see.

"The roses" she whispered to herself, "Mythal help me, the roses."

Alistair sighed deeply as Zevran started the car.

"She knows something" he said.

"Yes, but if her alibi checks out she's in the clear. And what's her motive, anyway?"

"Damned if I know. But I remember why I recognized that name now, Karl Thekla."

"Oh?" Zevran momentarily took his eyes off the road and gave Alistair a curious look.

"Yeah, I arrested him. What is it, seven, eight years ago? Domestic charges. The asshole didn't take kindly to Anders dumping him and threw him through a glass door without bothering to open it first. There was blood everywhere. Anders was in a medical coma for three days while they dug all the shards out of his head."

"So Karl being seen on the street outside Anders' apartment would be a bad thing" Zevran mused as he made a rude gesture to a man driving past them at too high a speed and nearly clipping his rear view mirror. "Do we chase that asshole down?"
"Nah, leave it to traffic. There's a roadblock two streets over. They'll give him a nice big fine and take his license."

"Fair enough. Lunch?"

"Sounds good. Let's go to that place we went to yesterday, by the flower shop."

"I take it you have a plan with that?"

"Yes. I want to know where little miss Merrill was Thursday night."

"You don't think-?"

"You know what they say. Hell hath no fury."

"Alright. Your treat."

"What, again?"

Zevran just laughed at him.

"Is this the right place?" Alistair turned to Zevran with a frustrated scowl.

"Yes, number fifteen. She's clearly not at home."

Alistair pushed down an urge to kick in the door. That sort of behaviour tended to make internal affairs ask uncomfortable questions about warrants and probable cause. Besides, there were already far too many people thinking him a loose canon who'd prove himself a Theirin any day now and either murder someone or shoot himself. Or both. He rang the doorbell once more, then cursed a blue streak when there still was no response.

"Merrill's at the grocery store" a male voice said and nearly made Alistair jump out of his skin. "She helps me with errands when she can. May I help you gentlemen?"

The voice, as it turned out, belonged to an elven male with rough, dark skin and piercing blue eyes. He introduced himself as Aerwedh Mahariel and in the same breath invited the detectives for tea in a tone that brokered no argument.

Alistair and Zevran exchanged a look as they followed Aerwedh into his apartment, but said nothing as they found themselves seated by a small, rickety kitchen table and being served tea in chipped cups.

"Merrill was here" he told them as they asked about the night of Caelan Hawke's attack. "She spends most nights here. Guilt is a funny thing."

"Guilt?" Zevran wanted to know as he helped himself to the chocolate wafers. He had never been able to resist sweets, and now was no exception.

"Mm, she drove drunk once. Exactly once. But as you know, detectives, once is all it takes." Aerwedh replied sardonically as he stirred a spoonful of honey into his tea. "Hit a tree and totalled the car. Walked away scot free. Tamlen was the one who suffered."

"Tamlen?"

"My husband. Didn't have a bruise on him but his brain- well. No surgery in the world can fix that." He looked up, blue eyes hard as ice. "They expected me to leave him, you know. As if I would. I promised him in weakness and health. I keep my promises, detective."

Alistair sat frozen in horror as the picture in his head cleared. And he froze even more as Aerwedh disappeared into the apartment and came back a short while later pushing a wheelchair. In the chair sat an elven man with sandy blond hair, dressed in tan slacks and a white shirt. The only thing that showed any hint at life were his eyes, which were bright and sharp and stared directly at them.

"Is he-" Alistair managed, regretting it instantly.

"It's called locked in syndrome." Aerwedh smiled bitterly as he rested his cheek against Tamlen's hair. "We'd been married exactly six hours."

The car door had barely closed behind him before Alistair had his phone in his hand, pressing speed dial one with shaking hands. He had to hear her voice, her beautiful voice.

"Hello?" Beatrice asked, "Ali?" Alistair tried to answer, but he thought of the elves he'd just met and found himself crying too hard to get out anything past "Bee-".

After the worst of the sobs had subsided, Beatrice asked gently;

"Is there anything I can do to help, honey?"

"No" Alistair forced himself to stop sniffling like a little boy, but when he closed his eyes to wipe them he saw his Beatrice lying in a puddle of blood, her sweet smile frozen forever. His breath hitched and he quickly opened his eyes, just in time to see Zevran wipe at his own eyes where he stood just outside the car. The blond elf had his own phone pressed to his ear, and it didn't take much work to figure out who was on the other end.

"Maker, Bee, I met some people today…"

"I know you can't tell me any details" her voice was like warm water, embracing and covering him and making him feel as if nothing mattered but her. "But I'm here. Hey, how about I make you that pasta you like tonight? With extra cheese?"

"Yeah, yeah that'd be good. I'll try to be home at six, okay love?"

"Okay, honey. Love you." and like that, she was gone, and all his despair too. Like always, she'd left him with hope, and faith, and reassurance. He had no idea how she did it, but he sent a quick thanks to the Maker for letting him have her in his life all the same.

Zevran slumped in the driver's seat looking like he'd just been run over by a bus.

"Fuck" he said eloquently.

"Seconded" Alistair replied tiredly. "Onwards and upwards?"

"Yes. Unfortunately. The family?"

"Sounds good. Then home for the day, yeah? Bee's making my favourite."

"Small worlds. Bela's making mine."

They exchanged wry smiles.

"What'll we ever do without them, huh?" Zevran offered.

"I pray that I never have to find out."

"Pray for me too."

It was early afternoon when Zevran parked the car outside the Hawke residence.

"So, how do we do this?" Alistair asked as he undid his safety belt, "together or do we split up?"

"Experience tells me we get more out of talking to them together." Zevran said as he got out of the car.

"Hmm, point taken." Alistair watched as Zevran strolled up the driveway with his usual easy charm, noting the tension in the shoulders and back that was the only hint at his partner not being as nonchalant as he appeared. He found himself quietly grateful for the act, however, as it grounded him in the present and forced all dark thoughts back into the deepest recesses of his mind. There was a lot of self-doubt there, and anger, and other things he'd really rather not examine too closely.

Leandra Hawke stood in the doorway, nearly as pale as her dress, but she tried her best to smile at the detectives.

"Come in" she said, quietly. "Malcolm and Carver are home, too. I'll get them"

"Thank you" Alistair said and realised that they'd made a mistake. They had no interpreter with them, and thus had to rely on Leandra when talking to the two men. But then again, what reason could she possibly have to lie?

If you wondered what Caelan would look like twenty years from now, all you needed to do was look at his father. Malcolm stood approximately 5'8, same height as his wife, and his face was a more weathered version of his son's strong, handsome features. Alistair found himself reacting to his mere presence like a errant son wanting to please his father. It was more than a little disconcerting, and the feeling was not at all improved by Mr hawke's silence.

"Are you completely deaf?" Zevran asked, and Alistair felt relieved that he did not have to. It was a rather rude and invasive question, but they did not have a choice but to ask.

"Yes" Malcolm signed to his wife, who spoke. "I was born deaf, and so was our youngest boy, Carver."

"What can you tell us about Thursday Night?" Alistair asked, watching the other man's face closely. His thick eyebrows furrowed briefly in what Alistair assumed to be sorrow, then he answered with slow, clear gestures to his wife, whose voice was slightly unsteady as she spoke:

"It was a good night. We were happy, and Caelan had good news for us all. He's going to ask Anders to marry him." Leandra bit back a sob, and Malcolm signed something she didn't interpret. "He left at about nine, saying he was needed at work. Anna left shortly after, wanting to get home to Fenris. I read a book, then went to bed at about eleven."

"Thank you, Mr Hawke." Alistair said, "Can you think of anyone who had any quarrel with Caelan, or would want to hurt him?"

Malcolm frowned at the question, and for a moment his eyes shone with tears. He shook his head firmly no, then seemed to hesitate.

"A few days before, Anna was very upset. Fenris and Caelan had fought. Over her, I think. But no. not something like this. Not Fenris."

Alistair frowned. They really need to talk to Fenris again. Preferably at the station. A quick glance at Zevran told him that his partner was thinking the same thing.

Carver Hawke was tall, broad shouldered, and had the sort of face that would be handsome if it filled in a little and stopped scowling. He was also clearly a cricket player; his walls were decorated with posters, and several medals hung in a little display case. One of those modern, expensive Nevarrite bats was propped up against the bookcase. Alistair shuddered at the thought of how much it must have cost; he had seen Kallian, who also played, sigh over it in a brochure.

"I was here all night" was all he seemed willing to say, but he couldn't look Alistair in the eye which immediately put the detective on edge.

"And can anyone confirm that?" he said, mostly because he could, and Carver's scowl deepened.

"Why?" Leandra's voice was soft, but the way Carver signed gave the distinct impression of anger and frustration.

"Because I need to check your alibi. Or is there something you feel I need to know?"

"Carver demonstratively turned his back to them.

"I'm sorry" Leandra looked ready to cry. "He has been like this since… since we heard- we were all home-"

"It's alright, Mrs Hawke" Zevran soothed. "You're all in distress. Everyone reacts differently."

"I suppose you want to speak to me now?" Lendra said as she led the detectives back downstairs, none of them noticing Carver slipping a piece of paper into Alistair's pocket.

"Yes please" Alistair said, "If you feel you're up to it."

Back in the living room, Malcolm held his wife's hand comfortingly as they talked.

"Caelan is… headstrong" Leandra said slowly when asked to describe her son. "Impulsive. Hot-headed, at times."
"We understand he had a fight with Fenris?" Leandra's mouth curled in disgust.

"Yes. Fenris. He's a drunk, did you know that? Sullied our Anna. She was engaged to a good man and threw it all away for a... " she didn't finish the sentence, but the way she looked at Zevran's pointed ears said everything. "Stubborn, she is. Like her brother. Threw everything away for… for sex."

Alistair felt a bit disconcerted; the vitriol he faced now was not at all what he had expected from her.

"And Caelan?" Zevran asked, his voice carefully neutral.

"He was a wild thing when he was young, very handsome and charming. Then he met Merrill… I thought he'd settle down." Leandra made a helpless gesture. "It wasn't what I wanted for him but… she seemed to calm him down a bit."

Alistair drew more doodles in his notebook and tried to make sense of what he was hearing. There was something very important not being said, but he couldn't figure it out.

"Can you tell me about when he met Anders?" he tried, hoping it'd make the waters less muddy.

"It was at my first vernissage." Leandra lit up, "I sold six paintings that night! Bethany brought Anders, such a charming man, and a good job, too! They looked so good together. And then Caelan-" she made an odd noise Alistair couldn't interpret.

"Well, Caelan wanted him. And Anders… well, there's never been a man able to resist Caelan when he turns on the charm. No woman either."

"Can you think of anyone who'd want to hurt Caelan?"
"No. well, Fenris maybe. They had a fight."

"Yes, we have been told. Thank you Mrs Hawke. We may come back."

"Of course, detective. Anytime."

Back in the car, neither Alistair nor Zevran noticed a piece of paper slipping from Alistair's pocket and down between the seat and the door, coming to rest on the floor.

Anna Hawke was wearing a very pretty red blouse that made her look ethereally beautiful as she let the detectives into her home and offered them coffee.

"No, thank you" Alistair declined politely, "we just want to talk."
They sat down around the worn kitchen table.

"Can you tell us a little about Caelan and Anders? How did they meet? What are they like together?"

"They're…" Anna thought about it for a moment. "They fit. So in love. So disgustingly happy. After they met, Caelan works cats into everything you know? Because Anders loves cats."

"I'm sorry, works cats into-?"
"He's a carpenter. Really good, too. Makes custom furniture." Alistair thought of his hallway table. He couldn't remember where Beatrice had bought it, but she had said she bought it from the artist himself.

"How did they meet?"

"At my mother's vernissage. It was awkward - Caelan was engaged at the time, but he told me later that he took one look at Anders and knew. Isn't that romantic?"

"Very. How did his fiancee take it?"

"I'm not sure, to be honest, Merrill and I never got along, she was more Bethany's style. Poor Bethany."

"Why do you say poor Bethany?"

"Anders was her teacher at the time, at college. Pre-med. Well, she had a mammoth crush on im. That's why she invited him. My idea, I'm afraid. I didn't count on Caelan. He's always been… irresistible." she smiled and shook her head in fond exasperation. "I told him once that if he wasn't so crazy about Anders I'd worry about him stealing Fenris from me."

Alistair hummed, looking down at his notes.

"About Thursday night - you were all at your parent's house?" Anna seemed a bit surprised at the sharp turn in questions, but she answered obediently.

"Yes, that's right."

"But Fenris wasn't."

"No. he… he and mother don't really get along."
"Can you tell us why?"

Anna made a face.

"She thinks he… sullied me, I think she calls it. I've given up on trying to make her understand that it was all me."

"All you?"

"Yeah. All me."

-flashback: three years ago-

Anna smiled at the elderly woman who let her in.

"Miss Hawke, please forgive me for not being able to stay and give you a proper tour-"

"It's alright, ma'am, I got an excellent tour last time." Anna flashed her most winning smile at the other woman, trying not to show how nervous she was over what she was really there for.

"Please, call me Arianni. Have you set a date yet?"

"Yes, Sebastian insists on the fifteenth of Bloomingtide." she hadn't wanted a Bloomingtide wedding, since she'd dreamt about an autumn wedding since she was little, but Sebastian had been… very convincing.

"Bloomingtide? That's soon, dear. But we'll do everything we can to make your great day wonderful."

"I'm sure you will. Thank you."

"Well, I must go. Fenris is around, if you have any questions he'll do his best, I'm sure."

With that, the owner of the party venue hurried towards the exit in a flurry of gauzy red dress and elegant, short grey hair. Anna watched her go, wondering if she was making the mistake of her life. But for the past week, she had been unable to think of anything but the janitor she'd seen when she had toured the place with Sebastian.

It was with slightly shaky legs she walked into the grand ballroom, and there he was. Sweeping the floor in wide, almost flamboyant motions he was an elven god come to life, his black shirt making his skin glow like alabaster. He looked up, and his eyes were just as blue as she remembered them. She walked towards him, helplessly, and he let go of the mop. It clattered to the floor, but her brain didn't register the sound. It was only aware of the sound of her heart pounding in her ears and the way his breath hitched and caught as he laid her down on the hardwood floor. And when he pushed into her, his mouth molten fire against hers as he came to rest between her legs, she knew she had made the right choice.

-end flashback-

Alistair looked down at his notes, cheeks burning.

"So. Uhm. When did you get home?"

"I left mum and dad's a little after ten, and it's a ten minute drive, so… twenty past ten, I think?"

"And what did you do when you came home?"

"I turned on the TV and kicked off my shoes. Got my creams out."

"Creams?" Alistair looked up. "Oh, for the arm?"

"Yeah."

"And where was Fenris at this time?"

"I don't know. Out somewhere." All three of them froze at the same moment, realising what she'd just said. Anna, eyes wide with panic, hurriedly backtracked.

"I mean he was outside on the patio-"

"Anna." Alistair said, quietly but firmly. "You're not helping Caelan by lying to us. So, which was it. Was Fenris home or wasn't he?" Anna's lower lip trembled as she whispered, voice barely audible;

"He wasn't home." she started to cry. "Oh maker, he wasn't home. I'm so sorry Kee.. I'm so sorry…"

Zevran looked at Alistair. Alistair looked back, solemn but resigned. He nodded once. Zevran nodded his head towards the window and Alistair immediately spotted what he had seen; Fenris was walking up the driveway.

No words were needed as the two detectives got on the their feet and swiftly moved towards the door. Anna watched them go, teary and confused, but then she turned pale and she got to her feet and hurried after them.

Fenris saw them exit and stayed in his tracks, but he made no sign to resist. Instead, he quietly held out his hands for the cuffs and obediently went with them to the car as Alistair recited what he had dreaded to have to say all day:

"Fenris Hawke, I am arresting you on suspicion of assaulting Caelan Hawke. You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence-"

He was interrupted by an anguished cry from Anna, where she stood on the threshold.

"Tell them you didn't do it! Fenris! Tell them it wasn't you!"