Nero started, almost vanishing into shadow, at a light tap on his shoulder. He whipped around to see Tseng standing right behind him.

"Oh, hi Sir," Nero breathed, carefully climbing down from the sudden adrenaline high.

"Sorry about that," Tseng apologized. "I was wondering if I might have a word?"

"Um, sure."

"I understand your shadows have returned."

"Yeah, mostly," Nero agreed. "It's still a work in progress."

Tseng nodded. "And your men?"

Nero sighed and pushed a hand through his bangs. "Aslo a work in progress. Actually, I was wondering… I think maybe… I think a few of them would transition well to the Turks, Sir. If you want them, that is. I can send you their files."

"I'd be happy to look at them," Tseng said with a gracious nod. "Would you be free to meet with me for an hour or so at some point? Perhaps later this week."

"Yes, Sir," Nero said, resisting the urge to salute. Tseng wasn't his boss anymore. They were close in rank in their respective branches. Still, the habit was hard to ignore.

"Very good. I look forward to meeting with you."

Nero had left Vincent a text, which he hadn't received because he'd left his phone on the night stand again and the battery had run down. Anticipating this, he'd also copied the message to Veld. Although most of his few belongings were stored in the back bedroom, Nero had been spending most of his time with his troops. Veld and Vincent hadn't seen him for more than a few minutes here and there. Vincent was therefore pleasantly surprised when he answered the door and found Nero on the other side.

"Nero! We weren't expecting you," Vincent said, stepping back so Nero could enter.

"I was!" Veld called from the kitchen. "Plug your damn phone in, Valentine."

Vincent rolled his eyes and shut the door. Nero grinned in response.

"Hey dad," he said by way of a greeting. "I um...I have some papers I need to fill out for a job. Would you and Veld mind filling out the family bits? You know, who to call in an emergency."

"Right, sure," Vincent agreed. Going over to the table, he edged the plates and silverware out of the way.

"After dinner," Veld said in a no-nonsense tone. "Nero, you're staying?"

It wasn't really a question. "Sure."

Only after they had eaten and the table cleared did Vincent sit down to help Nero with the various employment forms. It brought a certain sense of fatherly pride to put his information down on the various 'next of kin' boxes. Veld- who had graciously offered to do the dishes himself while Vincent helped Nero- also added his own as a backup.

"Since you never answer your damn phone," he grumbled with a smile. Vincent stuck his tongue out as Veld returned to the kitchen.

"That's all of them except for this one."

Vincent felt his brows draw together as Nero scooted a last piece of paper in front of him.

"Nero, this is your birth certificate."

Nero nodded. "Yeah. Your name's not on it. It should be."

For a moment Vincent gaped, mouth working but no sound coming out. "Are you sure?"

"You're my father. Science say so, and so does all the things you've done for me. I want it to be official. I mean...unless you don't want to…"

Vincent could only stare. A solid minute ticked past while he tried desperately to reboot his brain. "Nero, do you want me to adopt you?"

"If it's okay…"

"Hell yes it's okay!" Vincent cried, flinging his arms around his son. Nero let out a startled "Eep!" but did not vanish into shadow, barely even flinched. Instead he laughed, and clumsily patted Vincent on the back.

"Good. I wanted it to be on paper before I started at the family business."

Vincent blinked. "The what now?"

Nero grinned. "Tseng tested me. I have a spot in the Turks."

Between his new job and the adoption, both Vincent and Veld agreed it was the perfect occasion for a party. Nero had never had a birthday party, and his meager collection of personal belongings could certainly use some additions. After explaining the concept, and assuring him he had sole charge of the guest list, they put the question to Nero: was this something he would like to do? It could be as large or as small as he liked. Or they could not do it at all. Whatever he wanted.

"Cake and presents sound good," Nero decided. "And I think it would be fun to hang out with a bunch of friends at once."

The list turned out to be longer than Veld had anticipated- not that he minded in the least. Nero had made friends, apparently while no one- Nero included- had been paying attention. There was Shelke and Shalua of course, Max, obviously, myriad Turks, and even a few of his better-socialized Deepground troops. It was still fewer than fifteen people, including Vincent and himself, but Veld smiled. Valentine liked to say the kid was his step-son. Nephew or grandson might be more accurate, but the sentiment was the same.

Veld happily prepared the food with Nero's help, while Vincent was put in charge of informing the guests and decorating. Max nodded approvingly had the blue, black, and silver streamers and balloons arranged here and there. Nero might have been perfectly happy with a color explosion befitting a child, but this was more classy. No pinata, no party favors, but there would be plenty of alcohol. There would be Turks involved, after all.

"How come I haven't had one of these?" Shelke demanded on the night of the party. Shalua shifted awkwardly before Shelke gently nudged her to show her she was teasing.

"I wasn't sure you'd want one," Shalua confessed. "But we can definitely do something about that."

"It's fine," Shelke assured her. "My birthday's not until summer, anyway."

Nero chuckled at this and turned as someone touched his hand. He turned to see Max standing beside him.

"Happy birthday and congratulations," she told him. "I am insanely jealous."

"I'll let you know if being a Turk is all it's cracked up to be," he promised.

"You'd better!" Max laughed. "Incidentally, can I see you for a minute?"

"Um sure," Nero said, even as she drew him away and down the hall.

"I have a present for you," she said, grinning widely. Nero knew that grin and wondered if the present was wrapped in a box or...something else.

As there wasn't a quiet spot to be had, and his room was full of other people's jackets and coats, Max led him outside to the little postage stamp of back yard behind the house. There wasn't much to admire; just the cement patio and a long, narrow strip of concrete leading to the back gate like a gray and brittle red carpet. An unstrung clothesline ran parallel on one side, and a pair of trash cans stood sentry on either side of the aforementioned back gate. It was cold, but not freezing, and heavily silent after the cheerful noise inside the house.

Without a word, she pulled him to one side and down to her level, pressing her lips against his. Nero stumbled slightly at first, but stooped to meet her more comfortably. It was always a little awkward, standing. He stood head-and-shoulders taller than she, and Max sometimes wondered if she ought to start carrying a step stool, or invest in a pair of platform heels. Even still it would probably only make her level with his chin at best. Thoughts of height discrepancies soon evaporated as Nero's lips traced down the side of her throat. Max caught his face in both hands and lifted it to kiss him.

Nero hadn't had any idea what he was doing the first time she'd kissed him. He was good at it now, and didn't need to mimic what she showed him. Indeed, he knew how to improvise on his own, and Max drew a deep breath as they came up for air. It might be the dead of winter but she didn't feel the cold, just the rush of heat flooding up from her core and the warm touch of Nero's wandering hands. Or maybe it was his shadows, sometimes it was hard to tell.

"Nero," she gasped, struggling to hold onto rational thought. His shadows were making it difficult. "The neighbors… Someone will see!"

"No they won't," he mumbled into her collarbone. On cue, the darkness enveloped them more closely, the modest shadows cast by the porch and the corner of the house becoming a veritable black hole. She thought fleetingly of suggesting the cave. It would be no trouble for him to warp them there, but she could not speak. Nero's kisses burned against her skin, his touch sending goosebumps shivering through her that had nothing to do with the February chill.

Suddenly she didn't care that they were outdoors, that anyone might walk out the back door, that the neighbors might see. It was only her and Nero behind their curtain of darkness. Nero had spent almost a month behind glass, submerged in dark mako. Had he been any other patient, he might have lain in a hospital bed where she could have at least held his hand, but he'd been walled off and unable even to speak. Now he was here, warm and solid, and Max threw her arms around him, suddenly desperate to make sure he was really there.

Nero caught her easily, turning her kiss from one urgency to another. It was strange to be kissing him without being submerged. Strange, but wonderful. To know he was safe without his mask, without his mako suit had been answer to more than one person's prayer. He still wore shadows beneath his street clothes like a second skin; perhaps it was a mental block on Nero's part. Max didn't care. Shadows were easier to get around than the mako suit, and hid even less.

Max squeaked in surprise behind their kiss as Nero hefted her in his arms and shoved her not ungently against the wall. The roughness of cold brick was softened by a layer of thick shadows, a mere detail in the back of her mind as Max groped for Nero's belt. The shadows might be cushioning her from the bricks, but they weren't shielding Nero from her. His breath hitched at her touch, his whole body tensing.

"Shh…" she whispered, struggling to breathe herself, Nero's panted breaths hot against her neck.

"I missed you," he managed, voice low and husky.

"I missed you too," she murmured and pulled him close. It was all the invitation he needed. He closed what little space there was between them, pressing her against the wall. Max held on, kissing whatever she could reach. It wasn't easy to hold back, to keep quiet. Nero never said much, the only sound he ever made was a deep rumble somewhere at the bottom of his throat, almost as if he were purring. The sound vibrated against her chest, the deep notes rolling through her. Max couldn't quite suppress a whimper. She had been so worried, so scared. There had been too many moments when she'd been certain he would never hold her again, but now…

Her own indrawn breath sounded deafening in her ears. All around them the night was silent, save for their own labored breathing. Gradually sounds of the party inside began to filter through, as did the cold of the winter air. Skirts were convenient for a lot of things, but keeping warm was not one of them. Gently, Nero set her down, holding her steady until she found her feet again. It took a bit longer than she'd anticipated.

"Love you," she whispered, stretching for one more kiss. Nero leaned easily to meet her and murmured against her lips:

"Love you too."