Jack's hands curved gently over the keys; his fingertips brushed the cold white ivory, lingering in quiet contemplation before stroking hard and fast. As the melody poured from the piano, his movements were quick and passionate.

Karen had bought him the grand piano to replace his baby grand for his birthday nearly twelve years ago; the same year he found out he was HIV positive. That birthday had been a private, inward struggle for him, and somehow the piano helped to relieve his secret stress. It seemed to him as though every time he sat down at that black wooden bench, all of his fear melted away.

Jack had a pretty good idea of who it was that he had contracted the disease from, but these days he tried his best not to think about it. He figured there was simply no point in stewing over the circumstances of that night, how things might be different now if he had made just one different choice. He couldn't change what had happened, and didn't want to carry around a grudge for the rest of his life, however long that might be.

The truth was, since his diagnosis, his life hadn't been better. He had grown up immensely since moving in with Karen, and not because she forced him too or because the baggage she had brought along with her had been so stressful - but rather, because he wanted to. Finally owning his own home and sharing it with Karen was the best thing that had ever happened to him. Their relationship had strengthened, and for the first time in his life, he truly felt needed. Receiving the diagnosis that his body harbored a deadly disease forced him to put his life into perspective; his aspirations, his accomplishments, and most importantly, his relationships.

Just as with Grace and Will, Jack had chosen to keep his son, Elliot, in the dark about his disease. His relationship with Elliot was the only one in his life that didn't have any drama or strings attached, and he wanted to keep it like that. Everything was light and breezy with his only child. Since Jack didn't even know Elliot existed until he was already 12 years old, Jack hadn't been much of a parenting influence in his life. Instead, they were buddies and spent ample amounts of time together, allowing Jack the thrilling experience of being able to watch his flesh and blood grow and mature into a responsible, caring, and intelligent man.

The furious cadence of the piano concerto slowed to a soft lullabye as Jack closed his eyes, his fingers knowing the pattern on their own.

Thirteen years ago Elliot had gotten married; six years ago announced that he and his wife were expecting a baby. Jack thrilled at the thought of being a grandfather; since he hadn't been around when Elliot was born, the excitement and anxiousness of waiting for a baby was new to him.

Jack smiled as he felt a pair of little hands circle around from behind him and cover his eyes. The tune he was playing changed over into a light and bouncy tune, goofy to reflect the mood that had just come over the room.

"Who's that?" Jack asked, his eyes still obstructed by the hands. "Karen, is that you?" he smiled, knowing full well that it wasn't. A child's giggle erupted behind him.

"No! It's me, grandpa!"

Jack grabbed the arms that were attached to the hands over his face and spun around on the piano bench, making his move to tickle his granddaughter as she laughed uncontrollably.

"I knew it was you! I knew it was my little Katie!" Jack laughed, as he ceased his tickling and lifted the five year old onto his lap.

"No you didn't!" she laughed.

"Yes I did," he told her, kissing her cheek. "I have eyes in the back of my head, you know."

"Nuh-uh! Only mommy does!"

Jack laughed and turned the both of them back towards the piano, placing his hands back on the keys as Katie adjusted herself on his lap.

"What would you like to hear?"

"My favorite."

"Ok," Jack consented, and struck the opening chords of Moonlight Sonata. It was a weighty choice for a five year old, but Katie was mature beyond her years, and old soul in the body of a little girl. This coupled with Jack's childlike tendencies made them a perfect match.

Katie laid her little head back onto Jack's chest as he played the soothing piece, and as he came to the end he heard the voices of Elliot and Karen in the hall. After a few seconds, Karen's voice became quiet as their conversation ended and he felt Elliot's presence in the room.

"Hi, Elliot," he greeted him, not turning around from the piano.

"Hey, Jack," Elliot replied, perching on the loveseat that was directly adjacent to the piano. "I see Katie found her way up here just fine."

"Of course she did," Jack answered, looking at him out of the corner of his eye.

"It's my favorite room in the whoooooooole house!" Katie enthusiastically responded, leaning forward to stroke a few keys of the piano. Jack smiled.

Elliot hadn't grown up with Jack as his father figure, so he had never called him anything but "Jack." But when his own daughter was born, he had insisted that she call him "grandpa." He was her grandpa, after all, and he didn't want to confuse her with he and Jack's own unconventional past.

"So listen, do you think you can watch Katie this afternoon while Mel and I do some furniture shopping?" Elliot asked. He and his wife had just purchased a new house in Brooklyn and had been busy furnishing it the past couple of weeks in anticipation of the birth of their second child.

"No problem," Jack answered. Katie pounded out "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star" on the piano. Spending time with his granddaughter was one of the jewels of Jack's life as an older man. She brought him joy in a way that only a child filled with life and love could. After spending time with her and forming that bond, he now understood completely why Karen had wanted a baby so badly.

Elliot thanked him, and stood to take his leave of the room. The rest of the afternoon was spent happily, with Katie and Jack entertaining each other in various ways. Karen spent an hour or so with them at one point, playing Barbies and house. She blushed when Katie insist that she and Jack play the roles of the mom and dad.

Jack realized that in a way, he and Karen were caught up in a perpetual game of house, of make believe. They lived as husband and wife, and although they had love for each other, they would never have those legal titles. And as much as Karen had wanted it, and perhaps on some level he had, too, no one would ever call them "Mom and Dad."