Gillian felt Cal get out of bed. She heard him in the bathroom and really, she should get up too. They had been lazy enough this Saturday. There had been plenty of cuddles and a little bit of feeling up too. Which was really nice. Gillian was awake, sort of, or at least she would be if she bothered to open her eyes and sit up and not snuggle further into the pillow and pull the blanket higher. It was so very warm and comfortable in their bed. She half hoped Cal would come back and resume... cuddle time... The other half hoped he wouldn't. Sometimes having a moment alone was exactly what she needed. She felt the pressure of her husband on the mattress, the way she dipped towards him a little. Ok. If he wanted more cuddles that was fine too. She really did like smoothing her hands over his skin, liked it better when he did the same. But he planted a soft kiss on her forehead and leaned away again. She heard the rustle of clothing against skin as he dressed and then the soft click of the door and Gillian gave a satisfied smile to the pillow and shifted a little bit more to get extra comfortable and then settled still again.

Time went by and she was pretty sure she was half dreaming and dozing; this was really nice. She heard the door again, the quiet turn of the handle and figured that that was Cal back, probably to get her up. She wondered how late it was. She hoped he had brought coffee. If he was going to force her out of bed, he better come bearing gifts. She expected to hear his voice, the low rumble or a soft whisper, perhaps the curtains but she got neither. Instead she got a very soft, higher pitched stage whisper, "Mum, are you awake?"

That was Owen. It was easier to tell because Lewis's voice had broken and now he sounded a bit like Cal. But with an American accent. That way, she could tell all her boys apart. "Yeah baby?" She murmured. She was facing the wrong way.

"Can I climb in?"

"Sure," she agreed, shifting her butt over a little to give her son more space. He pulled back the covers and climbed up, shifted to readjust and curled at her back. If she had a bit more presence of mind, she might turn over to hug him. He was cooler than she was and his bare feet icy. She flinched away as he put them against her calf. He giggled and she huffed but he moved them away again.

Owen's voice might not have changed yet but his body was starting to. He was getting taller and broader in the shoulders. He wasn't just a skinny little kid anymore. Sport had helped with his muscle tone so he was, technically, bigger than Lewis, though Lewis was taller and always would be older. Gillian could feel the tightness of the eleven year old's chest at her back though and was reminded of her surprise in seeing him dress the other morning. He was toned and defined and admittedly, a good looking young dude. Cal was right; he was going to be a heartbreaker. She should get Cal to give him the speeches he'd given Lewis about girlfriends and being a good man.

"Mum?"

"Yeah?"

"You know Scott?"

Owen's friend from school. Who was also on his baseball team. He'd been over to play a few times but Gillian didn't think they were necessarily close.

"Yes."

"He said he sort of liked me not like a friend."

Gillian opened her eyes and caught a bleary glimpse of Cal's bedside table and the wall next to the bathroom door. "What do you mean?"

"He said he sort of liked me not like a friend," Owen repeated.

Gillian turned over so she was on her side facing him and pulled her head back so she could focus on his face. Not that she needed to see his face. Well she did, but not in the way Cal liked to see faces. She wanted to see his face to show she was listening properly. She picked the crap out of her eyes and pushed back her hair and then she studied her son. He waited for her to respond, blue eyes wide, expectant. "You mean, he told you he doesn't want to be your friend anymore?"

"No!" Owen almost laughed. "He said he liked me as more than just a friend likes another friend."

Oh! Click.

"He likes you?"

"Yeah," Owen answered softly. Scott was nearly twelve but Owen had just turned eleven.

"Do you like him?"

"Hm," Owen twisted his mouth to the side while he thought. "Not like that."

"It's ok if you do," Gillian responded.

"Yeah I know," Owen said matter-of-factly. "But I just don't. I thought about it. Cos Scott's pretty cool. But I don't."

"Do you want to like him as more than a friend?"

"Not really," Owen gave a nonchalant shrug.

"Ok. What did you say to Scott?"

"Um I said 'oh cool'."

Gillian waited for more but apparently that was it. "Ok," she gave a slight nod. "And then what happened?"

"I don't know really. Scott kind of just walked off."

"He probably hoped you'd say you liked him too."

"Oh."

They were silent for a moment.

"Do you mind that Scott likes you?" Gillian asked carefully.

"Why would I care?" Owen responded.

Ok fair point. That was her childhood conditioning rearing its head. She hadn't really even known what being gay meant until she was in college. There were never gay people on TV or in the media. Not that she'd been particularly bothered, she'd always been open minded and she sat on the fence of 'it's just how some people are' rather than 'its genetic' or 'its a disease to be cured' or 'it's a choice'. It was only a choice to embrace a part of self, in Gillian's opinion. No different than accepting her hair was going grey or no matter how hard she worked out, she was never going to be a size eight and those stretch marks would never go away, nor would her stomach go back to being completely flat. That was just the way she was. And she could spend forever dieting and stressing out about it, or merely accept the fact that her body had had two babies. She could always dye her hair if she so desired.

"Knowing he likes you doesn't stop you from wanting to be his friend?" Gillian asked softly. Owen gave her a mouth pout and another shrug to say he wasn't bothered. Ok. That was good. That was a healthy way to look at it. She was being stupid. She was projecting.

"Dad knows Kent's gay and that doesn't bother him does it?" Owen asked lightly. Purposefully lightly it sounded like.

"No," Gillian responded. Really fair point. Sometimes her kids really surprised her. But then, Kent had never actually told Cal he liked him in that way, so maybe it wasn't really the same thing. Cal would tell her she was over thinking things right now. Sometimes it was better to take their cues from their children about what they needed. Sometimes a lecture was appropriate. In this case Gillian figured she'd just wait for Owen.

He gave a little sigh, as if on cue, and reached out to finger the lace around the top of the shirt she was wearing. An actual pyjama shirt this time. Not something of Cal's and not, thank goodness, buck naked. "I just... I don't want Scott to feel bad," Owen murmured.

'Awww,' Gillian gushed inside, wanting to wrap him up in a hug. Both her boys; sweet little men.

"Jimmy told Chanelle he liked her and she laughed at him and told him to leave her alone."

"That wasn't very nice," Gillian noted.

"Yeah," Owen agreed and she felt relief.

'Good response Wen.'

"Well," Gillian spoke again when the boy fell quiet, his cool fingers fidgeting intently against her collarbone. With two people in the bed again it was starting to get hot. "I think you started off well. By saying that was cool. You didn't laugh at him and tell him to go away."

Owen met her eye and she could see some sort of relief in them as well.

"I think you were honest, which is always very important. But I also think there are nice ways to tell someone the truth. And you did that. I'm really proud of you," she smiled, gushing again.

Owen gave a little pleased grin and then his face got serious again. "What if Scott doesn't want to talk to me anymore?"

"Well unfortunately that would be up to Scott wouldn't it? We can't make other people do the things we want."

"Yeah," Owen agreed glumly.

"I think you should continue to be the really great friend that you are Wen. You can't be more than his friend but you still want to be his friend right?"

"Yeah," Owen nodded.

"So. Carry on like you normally do. You guys hang out at lunch right?"

Owen nodded again.

"And you have practice together."

Owen nodded once more.

"Scott surprised you the other day right? When he told you?" Gillian guessed.

"Yeah," Owen was firm in his confirmation.

"Maybe you could talk to him about it."

Owen's eyes slid to hers again. Owen wasn't a talker and she could tell already that he didn't like that idea. "Just to say he surprised you but you didn't want him to think you didn't want to be friends anymore."

"Oh," Owen mused over that. "I guess."

"Or something like that," Gillian added.

He might not. He probably wouldn't actually, but the words might come out in their own way, at some point. If Owen was thinking about them he might behave accordingly anyway. Cal sometimes said they should plant the seed of an idea in their kids' heads. They didn't have to get the concept straight away but if it was there, then every time it was brought up again the little seed would get a bit more growth, until it had roots. Cal had some pretty smart ideas about parenting if he gave himself half the chance to think about them. Gillian might have her books and her learning but Cal had always had phenomenal instincts.

"Thanks Mum," Owen leaned forward suddenly to give her a kiss, then clambered out of bed and Gillian realised, that he had, in fact, wanted to talk.