Spartan

Spartan

Part 1 - family

Mike had always known he lusted after guys rather than girls but when he was growing up in the forties and fifties in rural Yorkshire it wasn't something that people spoke about. A brief encounter with a classmate called Steve, when they were both young teenagers and still at school sort of confirmed it but due to the necessity of keeping such things secret from the law as well as families and friends they'd gone their separate ways once Steve left school. Steve got a job with a local mechanic and Mike stayed on to do A-Levels and then left his home town never to return, going to university in Manchester.

By the time the nineteen eighties rolled around Mike was alone in the world with no close family to speak of. He was an only child and his mother and father had both passed away. His life revolved around his work for a legal firm in Manchester, at the same company he'd gone to for work experience when at university. Having worked there for the best part of twenty years he'd moved up from office junior to a full partner in the firm with the privileges and salary to match.

Since his teens Mike had chased the elusive encounters with men of a similar persuasion to himself and had located the seedy pubs in the centre of the city that catered for his type of clientele. Now at forty he was beginning to tire of the youthfulness and raw sexuality that the fledgling scene had begun to offer and wanted to settle down but didn't know how to go about it. He knew it would be dangerous and setting himself up to both lose his job and be targeted by thugs if he tried to make a home with another man, even if he'd been able to find someone who was as keen as he was. But he was honest enough about his sexuality to admit, to himself at least, that he could never imagine actually being physically capable of sleeping with a woman so seeking a more standard family set-up was well-nigh impossible.

Mike commuted every day on the train from a lovely little village up in the Pennines. He loved his house and spent a lot of time in the garden but also enjoyed a drink after work, going into the same pub as always, the pub whose lavatories occasionally provided a little action that relieved his otherwise celibate bachelorhood. He never drank more than a pint as the last train left quite early but went more in a kind of desperate hope than in any kind of expectation.

One February evening just after his fortieth birthday, he was sat nursing a glass of lukewarm bitter and half-heartedly reading a newspaper in the pub when one of his fellow drinkers approached him, a youthful man perhaps in his mid-twenties, tanned, with a perfect muscular physique and with dark hair that fell in bangs across his forehead. "Hi, mind if I sit here?" he said, indicating the second of the pair of squashy armchairs that circled the table Mike had set his glass on. "Be my guest" he said, indicating the chair before taking a sip of his drink and going back to his paper.

The headlines of the day irritated Mike. Why he needed to know about the DeLorean Car Factory in Belfast being put into receivership was beyond him. It wasn't like he was ever planning on visiting the city, not with the troubles raging at any rate. And he certainly didn't care for Margaret Thatcher. He folded the paper up, put it on the table and sat just nursing his drink for a moment. He half heartedly considered trying the crossword but wasn't in the mood to try and think too hard.

After a few moments, apparently on noticing Mike's distracted air, his companion said, "You come in here a lot, don't you?"

Mike looked up, not sure how to answer but the guy continued, "I'm often in here myself, I've seen you loads of times. I'm James, James Philipson."

"Mike Hill" Mike replied, "and yeah, I come in after work. The trains make it difficult to go home and then come back, I live right out of town." As he spoke he wondered what had made him share such personal information with a complete stranger and he frowned even deeper, thinking that perhaps the man wasn't as much of a stranger as perhaps he'd thought. There was something there, a trace of a memory, some familiarity perhaps that had made him drop his guard.

"Mike, you seem a little stressed, what's up?" James asked but then said, "not that it's any of my business, of course, you hardly know me."

"It's just that you seem familiar, that's all" Mike confessed and suddenly he could have sworn that excitement passed over James' face but after a bare second he showed only a calm expression and Mike wasn't sure if he'd imagined his joy. "You probably saw me in here" James replied with a nonchalant shrug and Mike nodded. Shortly after he drained his glass, nodded awkwardly to James and left to head home, not giving the encounter any more thought.

Back in the pub two days later he saw James again. "Hi" he said, more out of a sense of obligation or politeness than desire but was gratified when the younger man's face lit up. "Hi!" he said, "it's Mike, isn't it?"

"Yeah, that's me" Mike answered, smiling and relaxing in James' company despite himself.

After that, for nearly three months their encounters were always the same, a drink and conversation a few nights a week in the same pub. James never pushed for a fumble in the gents as a lot of the guys here did and for some reason Mike never thought to suggest it. It never went further than a simple conversation but Mike had begun to open up to James and harboured a hope that the younger man might be feeling a connection of some sort. He found himself making more and more excuses to go for a drink every night after work and every night James would be there, usually nursing a soft drink or water. It seemed that they had a real friendship and Mike realised that the half hour or so he spent with James was often the part of the day he looked forward to most.

Finally on a spring evening they chatted for ages. James bought Mike a second drink, then, Mike, unthinking, purchased and was half way through drinking a third and suddenly realised that he had well and truly missed his train. He must have looked flustered for James noticed it. "Hey, what's bothering you?" he asked, concerned.

"I'm an idiot, I wasn't watching the time, I've missed the last train home."

"I'll take you if you want" James offered.

"You don't know where I live" Mike countered.

James rolled his eyes and grinned. "I mean you can come to my place. I only live ten minutes away." Suddenly he looked shy, sheepish. "That's if you want to" he muttered, blushing.

"I'd love to" Mike replied, his pulse beginning to race. For some reason he had the urge to do summersaults and whoop for joy but Mike settled for giving James a shy smile. It felt, somehow, impossibly, that in accepting James' offer he'd suddenly made a lifetime commitment and Mike felt more than a little overwhelmed by the floods of emotion that seemed to envelop him. It was all he could do to maintain his composure and not burst into tears or worse, declare his undying love for the young man.

They walked out of the bar into the cool evening air and started making tracks out of the city towards the estate at the back of the hospital. A few side-streets later and James led him to a small two up, two down terrace on a non-descript road similar to hundreds of others in that part of the city. "Come on" he said, letting himself in. "Do you want a coffee or anything?" he asked, leading Mike through the hallway to kitchen.

"Coffee would be good, thanks" Mike replied and as his young host put the kettle on he settled down at the somewhat-rickety table. James smiled as he handed the drink over and took a sip of his own. "So, you want to get to know me a little better this evening or would you prefer just to go to sleep?" he whispered.

Mike blushed and stuttered, "I'd really like to get to know you, James but I don't want to do anything you'd be uncomfortable with." As he spoke, Mike wondered what on earth had made him so gauche, so awkward. He felt like a clumsy teenager once again but luckily James seemed to understand and gently walked over, put his own cup down, lifted the coffee cup from Mike's trembling hands, turned his face so that they met each other's eyes, then kissed him. Even after getting to know each other, drinking together for so long it was still a quite difficult moment. Unlike some of the one night stands he'd had, which mattered little, for some reason that Mike couldn't quite explain he wanted this relationship to be something more. Thus he was cautious and deferential to James' wishes, trying to make the night the start of something new, something special.

James pulled Mike by the hand out of the kitchen and led him into the downstairs room. It was a big, living room-cum-bedroom and James explained, "my dad lives upstairs, we've kind of got a flat each. Don't worry though, he won't wake up." He dropped Mike's hand and began to undress. "Easy," Mike whispered, "take it slowly, I want to enjoy watching you."

James grinned and made his strip a striptease and Mike drank down the sight of the tall, lithe body on show before him. His eyes first strayed to the organ James packed between his legs, which must have been at least nine inches and was still soft. But that wasn't the only thing Mike's eyes absorbed. James' whole body was perfect, muscles and six-pack bulges in all the right places and a golden, all-over tan. "Wow, you, er, you must work out" he stuttered as he admired the body on display before him. James just laughed. "It's just good luck, I don't go to the gym as much as you'd think" he replied. "Come on, now you" he said.

"My body isn't as beautiful as yours" Mike protested. "I'm forty and I spend most of my life sat behind a desk."

"Beauty is what you make it" James said softly, with such an emotionally charged expression on his face that Mike almost wept with amazement. "And you, Mike, are incredibly beautiful. Show me, please?" he finished.

Feeling as if he had all the grace of a land-locked penguin Mike climbed out of his clothes, trying to take it slow but feeling like a fool. He had a scruffy mat of greying, untamed chest hair, weak arms, spindly legs and a beer belly and this young Adonis wanted to look at him. But glancing at James' awe-struck expression melted his awkwardness. "You have nothing to be ashamed of" the younger man whispered, "why do you seem so afraid?"

"You could have anyone, you're young and fit and gorgeous" Mike replied as he finished removing his clothes and stood there, naked. "But I don't want just anyone, I want you" James assured him, pulling Mike into an embrace. They made love, enjoying each other every which way and later, when they were both tired and satisfied, James leaned his head on Mike's shoulder. "Thank you" he drawled in a low whisper. "You're welcome" Mike replied, kissing James gently before they both fell into a deep sleep in each other's arms.

James woke Mike at seven o'clock the next morning. "Hey, sleepyhead, what time do you have to be at work?" he asked. "Nine" Mike answered, stretching. "That's good it means I'll have time" James whispered with mischief in his voice. "Time for what?" Mike mumbled. "For this" James replied, leaning in to another kiss, his soft, warm hands wandering south and making a still-sleepy Mike gasp.

"We're both going to have to have showers and get dressed shortly, we don't want to be late for work" James said presently. "Where do you work?" Mike asked. "Civil service" James confessed, "It's not much but it pays the bills. What about you?"

"I'm a solicitor" Mike replied, continuing, "and not that it hasn't been great but we need to get moving, it's quarter to eight already." They showered, dressed, had a cup of coffee and left on foot a little over half an hour later.

"See you in the pub tonight?" James enquired, somewhat nervously.

Mike grinned. "I'll be there at quarter to six, mine's a pint of bitter" he laughed.

"See you later lover" James replied with a smile, looking to check if anyone was around and watching before sneaking a quick peck on Mike's cheek.

The summer and autumn passed and winter approached and the couple fell into a routine. On work nights Mike would stay at James' house. It was a nice, cosy little flat and though James kept talking about his dad being upstairs, Mike never actually met the man and rarely heard him. On Friday nights they'd drive out of the city to Mike's country cottage where they would stay until Monday morning. They enjoyed each other's bodies, enjoyed each other's company and Mike gradually began to realise that he was head over heels in love. Mike often found himself reflecting that even ten years previously he could never have imagined even inviting a guy over for the night but now James had virtually moved in. His neighbours never said anything either, respecting the quiet solicitor's need for privacy.

It was late on a Saturday evening in early December and they were laid on the soft sheepskin rug in front of Mike's open fire. They'd made love and were laid in a post coital glow, laughing about inconsequential things and the conversation dwindled as Mike thought about saying something that had been on his mind for some time. "James" he whispered softly as he ran a gentle fingertip up and down James' side, tickling him softly. "Yes, sweetheart?" he replied, stretching like a contented cat. "Have I ever told you I love you?" he asked, feeling a blush beginning to burn his cheeks as he spoke.

James gasped and looked at Mike and tears filled his eyes. "You don't know how long I've hoped you'd say that" he whispered. "Mike, I've loved you from the moment I saw you, I love you, I love you!" he exclaimed as they hugged tightly.

They spent Christmas alone together at a holiday cottage in rural Scotland and celebrated Hogmanay in true Highland style in Edinburgh and since Mike was still reluctant to come out, telling anyone who asked that they were cousins. They warily settled into a relationship as the winter days gave way to early spring. One Sunday morning, a little over twelve months since they'd first spoken to each other, the ground was covered in frost, broken only by a few crocuses and snowdrops and James had clambered sleepily out of Mike's bed and headed to the bathroom. Mike was snoozing and half-heartedly considering going back to sleep when a yelp that could either be agony or amazement echoed across the hall.

Mike stumbled out of bed and went over. "James, what's up?" he gasped.

James turned from the bathroom mirror and showed Mike something strange, white and feathery that had started to grow and protrude from his belly button. "I've got a confession" he said, tears falling in rivulets down his startled face.

"What? What's that?" Mike asked. "Mike, I think you'll need to sit down" James sniffled in a shaky voice. He led the older man by the hand back into the bedroom and they sat down on the side of the bed.

"What's going on, James? What is that thing?" Mike asked. He reached out his hand to touch it but James seemed to automatically flinch away. "Be careful, it's really sensitive" he whispered.

"Talk to me James, what is it?" Mike said, his worry and panic beginning to be masked by anger.

The young man took a deep breath and looked Mike full in the face. "There's no easy way to say this but I'm not entirely human."

"What? I don't understand, what the fuck?" Mike blustered, confusion setting in. "Mike, sweetheart, I know this sounds odd but there isn't just one species of person, there's three. We all look the same we act the same, the only way we're different is the way we breed. I've got two fathers, two distinct biological fathers and no mother. I'm what's called a spartan."

"Spartan, what the?" Mike stumbled over his words, not sure what to say, how to react. Out of every possible answer he'd considered, this was one he'd never have imagined in a million years.

"Yeah, spartans are a race of men who breed with other men, there's amazons who are women who breed with other women and then straight human who need both genders to breed. I'm so sorry, Mike, I've wanted to tell you so many times but I've never really known how. But when I saw the filaments had begun to emerge this morning I knew I'd run out of time and I'd have to explain."

"Filaments? You mean this white feathery thing?" Mike asked, reaching out to touch again. "Please, be careful, you've no idea how sensitive they are" James said. Mike carefully ran his fingertip across it with a feather-light touch and James squirmed. "Stop, please" he asked after a second. "Does it hurt or turn you on?" Mike asked. "Hurt" James replied tersely. "Why are they coming out, what did you call it, emerging?" Mike asked pulling his hand away.

James gulped a huge breath of air and seemed to struggle to talk for a moment. In the end he spoke very quietly. "They mean I'm ready to breed, we call it being emergent."

"I don't understand" Mike said bluntly.

"They'll grow into strands and cover my stomach, then weave themselves around my life-partner's sperm and use it to fertilise an egg. They expand and form a lattice that holds our son safe while he gestates and create a temporary womb grafted onto the front of my stomach and in nine months," he shrugged, "congratulations we're fathers."

"Shit" Mike said, rubbing his face, trying to wake himself up, hoping that this was all a dream or something. "James, this is big, I can't deal with this now. You mean me and you have a kid together? Jesus Christ, I don't know, this is just wrong." He shook his head and swore softly under his breath.

"But Mike" James said, tears falling again, "this only happens when we're with a true life partner. I've never had them emerge before, this might be my only chance to be a father. You felt a connection with me when we first met, didn't you? You thought you knew me? That was the partner bond drawing us together. This was meant to happen. Please, Mike, don't run from me, don't be scared, please?"

"If I agreed, if I said okay, I'll have a child with you, what do I have to do?" Mike asked. "I'm not promising, you understand, I just want to know."

"When they're fully extended you just cum onto my stomach, that's all you need to do. The filaments will gather up the liquid and form a bubble around it for the egg to enter. Then we just let nature take its course."

Mike just shook his head and sighed. "This is fucking weird" he muttered.

"Sweetheart, you know I love you" James sniffled. "I really want to be a dad but if you can't cope then I respect that. This has all come as a shock to you, I don't want to lose you because of this." More tears ran down his face. "If it's too much for you, consider it unasked, unsaid" he continued, "Just please, don't run, don't be scared, I'm still James."

Mike stayed silent for the longest time. "Shit, please, just say something" James begged eventually.

"I just have to cum onto your stomach, right?" Mike asked quietly. James nodded, frozen with a sudden, impossible hope. "And if we ever split up you're not going to come chasing me for maintenance are you?" he asked and James laughed, breaking the tension. "I mean it, Mike, you don't have to if you think you can't cope, I love you too much to force this on you."

"And I love you too much to see how much it hurts you to think I'm going to run. I've always wanted to be a dad, I just thought it was impossible. I just cum on your stomach, that's all?" he finished, pulling James into an embrace. "That's all" James replied, leaning in to a kiss.

"Mike" James mumbled after a second, pulling away, "Mike, I can't do this now" he said. "They're too sensitive, too sore. Please?"

"How long will they take to grow properly? You said they'll cover your stomach?"

"I'm not sure" James admitted. "I can phone my dads and ask them if you like" he offered. Mike rolled his eyes and sighed. "Dads, plural?" he asked.

James grinned and nodded. "Yeah, there's my dad Phil who technically lives in the flat upstairs, then there's my dad Si who's the guy who lives next door with his three sons. You know, he's a widower just like my dad?" he said and grinned.

"So those teenagers next door, they're what?" Mike frowned. "My brothers, yeah" James grinned. They're all younger than me, I'm the oldest by almost eight years. But it's kind of a given that we never talk about our family unless they're spartan themselves, or a life partner. My dads told me that unless I was absolutely sure you were my life partner I needed to keep them a secret." He looked at Mike with a soft, passionate expression. "I hope you can forgive me?" he asked gently.

"For godsake James, if it was me I'd have done the same thing, of course I forgive you" Mike replied, then grinned back. "So do you take me home now to meet the family and get their approval?" he teased. James punched him on the arm playfully. "I'll call them now if you like?" "Yeah, I like" Mike smiled.

James had a long conversation on the telephone while Mike stumbled into the shower, still overwhelmed by the turn of events that morning. "They're going to cook Sunday lunch for us this afternoon" James reported when Mike returned to the bedroom and began to dress. "They can't wait to meet you" he continued. "Oh, yeah, it'll take the filaments probably a week or so or maybe a little less to emerge completely" he finished. He beamed a huge smile at Mike who couldn't help but smile back. "You're absolutely over the moon about this aren't you?" he asked. "Mike, I've waited for this for my whole life" James replied, nodding. "And I can't tell you how glad I am that it's you" he continued. "Have I ever told you I love you?" he finished.

"Have I ever replied I love you too" Mike said with a smile, leaning over for a very careful kiss. "Not that I'm complaining about the view or anything" Mike said after a second, admiring James' huge, semi-erect organ appreciatively, "but don't you need to put some clothes on? It's freezing out there."

James grimaced. "Dad Phil recommended baggy tracksuit bottoms I can fasten under my belly and an open shirt or jacket but he warned me that walking will drive me insane and if anything touches the filaments it'll be even worse. Do you have anything I can borrow, I can't so very well put my jeans back on, can I?" Mike laughed. "Help yourself."

As James rummaged in Mike's wardrobe, Mike went down to the kitchen to prepare breakfast and a pot of coffee. James came downstairs a short while later wearing a tracksuit that Mike normally used at when out jogging, the pants fastened tightly at crotch height, the jacket unzipped and underneath it a long-sleeved teeshirt that had been tied in a knot to make sure it rode above his waist rather than dangling down. The feathery white filaments seemed to wave and waft as James walked and every time they did a peculiar pained, expression crossed his face. "You're going to find a seatbelt hell" Mike observed as he served James cereals, toast and coffee.

"Yeah but having my breakfast made for me more than makes up for it" James grinned as he started to eat. "It just seemed appropriate" Mike mumbled, suddenly embarrassed. "Mike, I'm emergent, not ill" James replied. "Chill out a little."

"Christ, James, you turn my world view upside down and ask me to father your child and tell me to chill out?" Mike countered. "I don't think that'll be possible" he said dryly.

Soon, far sooner than Mike would have liked, they parked James' car on the familiar side street. Mike had driven as James was in no condition to concentrate on the road.

"Mike, calm down, you're going to pass out if you continue to hyperventilate" James said half in jest, half seriously as he carefully disentangled himself from his seatbelt, undid the door and climbed out of the passenger seat. "It's not like they're going to disapprove of you. How can they? It's only because of you that I'm emergent at all."

"What do you mean? I assumed it was like a woman's time of the month or something, something that happened anyway?" James shook his head. "It takes a few months, at least, of being with the same person, having the same person's skin touching yours and" he grinned, "bodily fluids covering you again and again and even then it's no guarantee. And anyway, it only happens if you've already got a partner bond, if you've already had that first flash of recognition like you had in the pub when I first spoke to you."

He smiled. "Do you remember that? When I first spoke to you, you said you thought my face was familiar?" Mike nodded. "Do you know how hard it was not to jump your bones there and then?" he laughed briefly before becoming more serious again. "Mike, I said before, this might be my only chance to be a father. You're not my first lover but I've never become emergent for anyone else. Now stop hyperventilating and come on inside, I'm only half dressed, remember and it's bloody freezing out here!"

They entered the familiar hallway and took coats and boots off but instead of heading through to his own kitchen to make drinks, James smiled softly and led Mike up the stairs. He knocked at the door at the head of the staircase and an older man with greying hair at his temples but looking remarkably like James, opened the door. "James, come in!" he gushed, "and this must be Mike. I'm Phil" he said, extending his hand for a shake. "Come on, inside," he continued, "it's freezing out there today, we've got the heating on high for you."

As they went in and the door was shut tight a second man came into the space, which Mike realised was what he had assumed to be the upstairs front bedroom. "Oh, son!" he gasped, "I'd begun to doubt you'd ever find a match, I'm so pleased for you."

"Thanks Si" he said to the man who Mike realised must be Simon. He too, had a look of James, not as much as Phil did but his eyes, they definitely shared the same eyes. James embraced the pair with arms around their shoulders as he made introductions. "Phil, Si, this is Mike" he said, "Mike this is Phil" he indicated with his head, "and Simon, Si, my dads" he finished. Looking at the three Mike realised that their appearance alone gave him undeniable evidence of the truth of James' story.

In the far wall of the bedroom was a doorway leading into the next door house and Mike realised that the adjoining terraces were probably the only way that James' parents could live together, pretending to have separate houses, separate addresses and keeping the connection between them strictly private. To one side of the doorway stood a huge wardrobe, which would, had it been necessary, have been perfect to completely cover the door. Under the window was a single bed made up with covers. "It has to look like my bedroom, for appearances' sake" Phil explained. "The other room is a bathroom and kitchen, so that's kind of our cover, anyway."

The front `bedroom' of the second house had a large bookcase that plainly would have served the same purpose as the wardrobe in the first house. This room had been knocked through to the back bedroom to make a warm and cosy living room, with just a small corner sliced off for the second house's bathroom and a staircase to the attic. A teenage boy and his younger brother were doing a jigsaw in one corner of the huge room and a young man, perhaps nineteen or twenty by Mike's reckoning, was lounging on a settee nearer the door watching television. They all turned when they heard the door open and grinned.

"Hiya" the oldest of the three said, "I'm Tom. That's Alex and Carl down there" he continued and the younger two waved briefly before turning back to the puzzle. "And you must be Mike" Tom continued, walking over and offering a handshake.

Mike looked around at the family and back to James. They were all tall, had broad shoulders, perfect musculature and finely chiselled jaw-lines. "God, way to get an inferiority complex or what?" he muttered, flopping down onto the sofa. "What's up, sweetheart?" James asked, sitting down next to him. Mike frowned, saying, "You all look like fucking Adonis or something, even twenty years ago I'd have been butt ugly compared to the rest of you." James just laughed. "It's our natural physique, Mike, all spartans look like this, chill out already."

"You've already asked me to chill out, I don't think it's going to happen" he replied in a voice dripping with sarcasm. "Would this help?" Phil called as he emerged from a drinks cabinet with a bottle of scotch. Mike grinned wordlessly and nodded his thanks when Phil handed him a measure, sipping it to calm shattered nerves. "Where's mine?" James objected. "Not a chance!" Si laughed. "You're sticking with water or soft drinks from now on."

Phil and Si sat down opposite James and Mike. "Well come on, James, let's see them!" Phil asked. James slipped the tracksuit jacket off and let both of his dads look at the small bunch of white feathery filaments. His brothers walked over and gazed with unashamed nosiness. "I so wish it'd been me first" Tom grinned, "then I'd forever be able to tease you for it." James, without missing a beat, retorted, "yeah well you kind of need a steady boyfriend instead of acting like a slapper and trying to sleep your way through the whole city."

"Did you just call me a slapper?" Tom shot back. "Well the cap seems to fit well enough" James drawled, continuing, "how many guys did you fuck last night or can't you remember?"

"Enough! James Philipson how dare you speak to your brother that way! Watch your language, you're not too old to get a clip round the ear `ole for that last remark!" Phil interrupted them before Tom could deliver a furious retort. "Please! Can't you two be in the same room for five minutes without trading insults?" he asked in a quieter voice, continuing, "sorry, Mike, they're always the same." Mike laughed, amused by the ordinary domestic life that this very un-ordinary family enjoyed.

The youngest of the boys, Carl, who Mike guessed to be twelve or thirteen, reached his hand out to try and touch the filaments but was stopped by Si. "No, Carl, I told you how sore they get, you can't ever touch them, not your brother's not your partners, not ever, okay?" Carl looked as if he'd argue but Si continued, "Carl, honey, you won't ever even touch your own either, they hurt too much. It's nothing personal, they just shouldn't be touched, okay?"

"Okay" the boy mumbled before walking back to his game. "Kids" Si said to Mike and James, "you have to repeat everything a million times and they still don't listen." He smiled with a hint of mischief on his face, "though if you're talking about selective deafness James took the crown every time, he was a little sod when he was small." James frowned. "Si, please, you promised no stories!"

"Sorry, we won't embarrass you" Phil said before smiling softly. "I was beginning to think you'd never become emergent" he continued, "have you explained everything?"

James half nodded, half frowned. "I've kind of explained about the partner bond and the fertilisation process" he said, "but not gone over anything else yet. He's having a hard time getting his head around it, I didn't want to burden him with the rest, not yet."

"What?" Mike asked, feeling awkward that he was being spoken about and not to. "What haven't you told me?"

"That's irresponsible James," Simon told him. "He needs to know everything before you go ahead with this."

"I've got time yet" James protested. "He didn't even know about our species until this morning, come on, gimme a break."

"What's he not told me?" Mike demanded of the older men.

"Mike, what our son has failed to mention is the fact that the filaments will be sensitive to the point of agony for the whole length of the gestation, which is nine months by the way, the same as it is for human children" Simon began.

"If you go ahead and fertilise him he'll end up not being able to dress or even walk without the pain getting the better of him. He'll have to quit his job and as well as financial support he'll also need physical support of the most intimate nature, either from you or from us. Carrying a child to term completely incapacitates us which is one reason why there are so few spartans as compared to humans. And if we don't get sufficient support then often our sons spontaneously abort or are stillborn. That happened to my brother both times he carried," he finished, subdued.

"It doesn't need to be you that helps me, Mike" James interrupted. "I know my dads and my brothers would rally round if you couldn't cope with it. There's only one bit you need to do."

"Fuck you" Mike said bluntly. "James, what did you want me to do, fuck you then leave you? Were you going to tell me how hard this would be for you or just let me find out one day when I try and touch you and you writhe in agony or worse, our son writhes in agony then dies and all because I didn't know what you needed? God, that's cruel."

"Mike, it's just that I love you, I can't expect you to change your life completely" James protested.

"James, sweetheart, a child is supposed to change your life completely, isn't it? Look, I earn good money as a solicitor. I'm perfectly able to support you and when I'm at work, if you're here, your folks can help you, can't they?" He looked up and Phil, Si and surprisingly, Tom, all nodded.

"Can I ask, though, guys" Mike continued, "'cos I'm wracking my brains here and I can't figure anything out. How do James and I get away with raising a kid together?"

"Well you've got a couple of options" Si said, "you can go for the separate houses thing, like we've done here, figuring out a way to link them or something, or you can do the I'm a cousin or uncle and I'm helping out thing. We usually move almost immediately after the birth and tell people we needed a new start since our darling wife died in childbirth. And we don't stay in one place for too long either, Phil and I have moved eight times now. And it isn't just a case of going down the road, we have to go far enough to make sure we don't bump into anyone who knows us."

"That must be really hard" Mike said softly. "We can't tell the truth, Mike," Phil pointed out, "that's just asking for trouble. Moving actually makes things easier."

"So if I sell my cottage and look into buying another one somewhere else," Mike began, "and I'll come and live here while James is gestating and pretend to be renting the flat off you or something and James can hide and we can all pretend he's gone off travelling somewhere. Then when the kid's born we'll move to the new cottage and I'll support my grieving young cousin whose wife has just died."

James looked stunned. "You really mean that?" James whispered.

"What do you take this for, some sort of casual fling? James, I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Of course I'll support you. If it were reversed, you'd do the same for me, wouldn't you?"

"Of course I would, I love you!" he gushed, tears beginning to flow again. "God, you're tearful today, your hormones getting the better of you already?" Mike teased. He mock-frowned and continued, "I tell you something though, there's one bit that doesn't appeal at all."

"What?" James said, panic blossoming over his face once more. "You don't get morning sickness as well, do you `cos that'd just stink." Everyone laughed. "You've found a rare one here, son" Phil said. He turned to Mike and smiled. "Welcome to the family."

They spent the evening enjoying an ordinary family get together. Mike volunteered to play Alex at chess and got soundly beaten by the jubilant teenager. Tom and James continued the verbal sparring, though when Tom began mock-punching and accidently brushed the wafting filaments, James' howl of pain stopped the game short. "Shit, they really are sore aren't they?" Tom asked. "You've no idea" James gasped, wiping his eyes.

Later on, after perhaps one too many whiskies and a very good dinner Mike lounged on the sofa chatting to Phil as James raided Simon's wardrobe for comfortable clothes. "This has been a fucking weird day" he admitted to the man. "My head's in pieces." He paused. "I was going to ask how you coped but I guess you grew up with it?"

"Yeah, as did Si" Phil answered, "though full spartan partnerships are quite rare, both Simon and I have one spartan and one human father. Mike, you think you've got it bad, my human dad was only five foot two and was bald as anything and round like a barrel. At family get togethers he'd often flatly refuse to stand up, preferring to perch on a tall bar stool all night so he could look the rest of us in the eye." He laughed, reliving old memories. "You both got brothers?" Mike asked. Phil nodded. "I have, he lives in Amsterdam and his partner's French" he said, rolling his eyes, making a mincing gesture and saying, "oo, la, la!" and he and Mike laughed. He quickly sobered up again and said, "Si did have a brother but after his second baby aborted he ended up killing himself. It was the week we got the news that Si became emergent for the first time, talk about fucking bad timing." "Shit, I'm sorry, man" Mike mumbled, taking another sip of his drink.

"Do you always breed true even if your partner is human?" Mike asked shortly. "Not that I'd complain if the kid looked like me but." "Yeah, the genes are fully dominant" Phil replied. "Any Jameson's will all be spartan." "Eh? Jameson's?" Mike asked, not understanding. "Hasn't he told you?" Phil replied. "Our surnames aren't passed through families like human names, we take them from the fathers that bare us. I'm Philip Thomason, James is James Philipson, his son will be whatever Jameson. Tom is Thomas Simonson and so on. Kind of old-fashioned, I know but we've always done it this way. And so what I meant to say without confusing you about surnames was that your and James' sons will be spartan and not human."

"That means I've got to get used to being the fly in the ointment!" Mike chuckled. "Hey, I've told you many times, I think you're beautiful, it doesn't matter what anyone else says" James interjected from the staircase, coming up from the master bedroom where he'd been sorting clothes with Simon. He walked over, sat beside Mike and kissed him. "Get a room!" Alex yelled, making gagging noises. "Put him down, Mike, you don't know where he's been" Tom laughed. James just gave them both the finger and they kept kissing. Phil cleared his throat. "Listen, James, Mike" he said and the two separated, "not that it hasn't been great but it's getting towards Carl's bedtime and there's no way he'll get to sleep if you're still here. You don't mind us chucking you out, do you?"

"Nah, we'll see you tomorrow" James replied. "I'm glad it's Mike" he smiled to his dads. "So are we, son" Si answered. "I'll bring your stuff down tomorrow, get going" he finished.

Mike and James went back downstairs to James' flat and snuggled carefully into bed together, both tired after such a long, stressful day. "If I'm definitely going ahead with this I'll have to give my notice in at work tomorrow" James said.

"What do you mean, if you're definitely going ahead, of course you are!" Mike replied. "Are you sure?" James asked gently. "I know you've met my dads, I know I bombarded you with floods of tears this morning but forget all of that. Do you really want to be a dad, Mike? Do you really want us to have a son together?"

Mike smiled softly and ran his hands around James' face before pulling him in to a gentle kiss. "Yes, I really do" he replied. Presently he said, "about your work, sweetheart, how much notice do you have to give?"

"A month, I don't know how I'll cope to be honest" James replied with a twist to his lips. "I can't get a suit on, there's no way I'd get the pants fastened without being in agony. I don't know how I'm going to do this" he admitted.

"Why don't you post a resignation letter tomorrow along with a note saying you're going off sick and want to quit immediately?" Mike asked. "It's not like they can do anything, especially if you offer to surrender a months' pay."

"You think they'll be alright with that?" James asked. "I'm a solicitor, I'll make bloody sure they're alright with that" Mike replied determinedly, making James laugh. He lay quietly for a moment. "Is there anything else I need to know?" he asked, "any other funny stuff that'll come up and bite me?" James thought for a moment before replying.

"Erm, we're all normally homeschooled, either until secondary school or sometimes our exam years" he began. "Our whole society is completely hidden and secret. Most partners still live apart and pretend their wives have died. You'll never find a spartan who fancies women but I guess you figured that one out already" he smiled. "Erm, what else? We're all descended from white Europeans, any spartans who look like they're African or Asian or mixed race will have gotten their colouring from human ancestors. We have a longer life expectancy, on average about one hundred to one hundred and ten years old and we're often a bit taller than humans too, about six foot two or six foot three on average. And we only ever have one true partner bond and when we find our life partner we mate for life. Oh yeah and we mature at a slightly different rate to humans and we age differently too."

"What do you mean, you age differently, how old are you?" Mike demanded.

"I'm twenty seven" James said, "but let me ask you something, how old did you think my dads and my brothers are?"

"Erm, I dunno, I'd guess your dads were both not much older than I am, perhaps in their late forties or early fifties? And your brothers, Tom I think is about nineteen, Alex about seventeen and Carl thirteen?" James shook his head. "Not far out" he assured Mike, explaining that, "my dads are both coming up for their sixtieth birthdays. Tom's nineteen so you got that right but Alex is fourteen and Carl's only ten. It's only subtle but it is a bit different." Mike frowned. "We just mature a bit faster but then stay younger looking for longer. It doesn't bother you too much, honey, does it?" James finished, seeing the perturbed look on his lover's face.

"James, you do know I'm forty already, don't you?" Mike asked, "and you're twenty seven?" He nodded. "And if you have this long life expectancy and stay so young and I grow old and die in my sixties like my dad and my granddad you'll have fifty years alone, that's a fucking long time by yourself James, are you sure you want to be saddled with me?"

"Mike, our life partners, the partner bond, is pre-determined, it's not a choice" James smiled reassuringly, "and you, sweetheart, are mine. Have I ever told you I love you?" he finished.

"Have I ever told you I love you too?" Mike replied gently. Something then occurred to him and he frowned again as the memory of their first night together resurfaced.

"What? What is it honey? Talk to me, I don't want anything to worry you, I know today will just have been overwhelming, whatever's bothering you, please let me help you?" James asked, concerned.

Mike smiled. "This partner bond, I was actually just remembering the first time I felt it properly. Not when I thought I recognised you in the pub that time, I mean when we first spent the night together. You know, when I accepted your invitation to come back to your place that night, it somehow felt like it was a wedding and I'd just said, `I do'. You were stuck with me from that moment, did you know that?"

James shook his head. "I didn't realise it also overwhelmed humans, honey. It usually floors us but I never even thought it'd do the same to you. I love you so much, you know" he finished. "And I love you too" Mike finished as they settled in to a long, passionate kiss.

Over the week it took for the filaments to emerge and grow James very quickly had to get used to keeping his stomach uncovered, wearing low-slung trousers and cut-off tops. He had to sit differently too, unable to slouch as they quickly started to throb and become uncomfortable. They grew in a fan shape, protruding perhaps two inches from James' navel before splaying out and inching across his stomach in gossamer fine white strands. Finally they each stretched perhaps five or six inches in a wide circle, so wide, so sensitive that James couldn't bear any clothing or covers at all. That night after consulting with his fathers he said, "It's time, Mike, I'm ready."

"You sure?" Mike asked, suddenly trembling and James nodded. "If they get any wider they'll start to pull apart and I'll lose some fertility. It's now or never."

"How should we do this?" Mike asked. James smiled a wicked little grin and led him by the hand to the bed. He let Mike's fingers drop and turned and lay down in the centre. "Kneel above me" he whispered softly, "over my legs." Mike made to do as James asked and the younger man broke down in a fit of the giggles.

"What?" Mike asked, feeling more than a little spooked.

"You need to get undressed first, idiot" James managed to gasp between his laughter. "It's not going to work if you cum into your undies!"

Mike almost bolted but James saw his fright, stopped laughing and said, "I'm really sorry honey, I know this is dead weird for you, I didn't mean to laugh." He stood up again and walked over to where Mike had frozen and with soft, probing fingers undid his shirt buttons and fly and helped him out of his clothes. Then he took hold of Mike's hand and kept grasp of his fingers as he lay back on the bed once more. "Now, kneel down over my legs" he said once more and Mike did as he was asked.

"A little closer, you don't want to miss" James instructed. "Now relax, deep breaths" he said before grinning the original, wicked and ever-so-suggestive smile. "And when you're ready" he finished in a soft voice, just a slight lilt that betraying the fact that he was also a little nervous.

As Mike came James yelped in apparent agony as the semen touched the filaments. "Are you alright, sweetheart?" Mike asked. "It hurts, fuck that's sore" James gasped. Mike climbed down and sat on the side of the bed next to where James writhed, took his hand and held it tightly as he watched the filaments slowly begin to roll, pulling the liquid in. After the best part of an hour they'd all curled into one another and a small silvery-white ball nestled onto the top of James' belly button, sitting snugly on the perfectly sculpted tanned skin. Once it had settled James calmed himself with some deep breaths and opened his eyes. "Thank you" he whispered, his voice layered with a depth of raw emotion.

"I'm thinking I should thank you" Mike countered. "It's not every day a man becomes a father." He paused, thinking suddenly. "That is, if it works. I know with women sometimes it doesn't work first time."

"It's not like that with spartans. If the bubble forms, it's going to work, in fact by the time all the filaments have all curled into the bubble the egg's already fertilised. The filaments would have separated and begun to fall apart already if it wasn't going to work" James assured him. Mike met his eyes and saw unshed tears glistening in the dim lamplight. "So we're going to be daddies then?" he said in a gentle whisper, feeling his own tears begin to drip in silent rivulets down his face. "Mm-mm," James nodded, "and our baby boy is already starting to grow right here" he said, indicating the small white ball. "Did I ever tell you how much I love you?" he smiled to Mike. Mike leaned down and kissed him gently. "Did I ever tell you that I love you too?" he replied.

Mike kept his word and the following day, Saturday, he drove back to his cottage, collected all his belongings and cleaned his kitchen out thoroughly before moving into James' flat. When he got back mid-afternoon he found James upstairs with his dads, laughing and joking as he showed off the bubble. When he walked in Phil shoved a glass into his hand. "You managed to knock him up then?" he laughed. "Yeah and I'm moving in this weekend, any volunteers to help me lift my bags in from my car?" Mike replied.

James immediately got to his feet but Simon put a parental hand on his shoulder. "Not a good idea James" he said softly. "Let your brothers help Mike."

"But" James protested. "James, lad, you remember our conversation with Mike about you taking it easy or risking spontaneous abortion?" Phil said, quickly silencing any argument James may have made. "It starts today, you can't be too careful, please?"

Mike finished the drink and went downstairs with James' brothers to unload his car. He didn't have too much stuff but the extra help was welcome. Once he'd dumped it all in James' flat he collected his now-subdued lover and took him back home. They sat together in the quiet and Mike said, "well, I'm here. I'll get all my stuff put in storage and get to an estate agent to put my place on the market next week. You're stuck with me, I'm afraid." James grinned. "I'm still stunned you're doing all this for me, it's not like you ever expected it, is it?" Mike shook his head, "No, I didn't expect it sweetheart but that's made it all the more magical. It's like a gift I never thought I'd receive."

"God, you're soppy today!" James laughed, "enough with the tacky romance already, where's the stud I fell in love with gone?" He reached out and carefully, making sure he didn't knock his stomach, ran fingertips down Mike's chest, past his waist, over his abdomen and down to his organ which automatically stood to attention. "There, that's better" James teased. "Yeah but what are you going to do now?" Mike asked. "I just thought" he frowned, "what about sex? Won't that also cause a problem?"

James laughed. "I was embarrassed to ask but Phil told me the gory details anyway. Orgasms are normal and if I don't have them with you, I'll end up with teenage style wet dreams and you can't stop them anymore than you can stop the tide. We just have to take it carefully, I can't move about too much. And I need to be careful, that's true" he whispered, "but there's nothing to stop me enjoying myself, I don't need to be a monk or anything! Come on" he said with a sparkle in his eyes as he led Mike through to his bed.

As the weeks passed the bubble began to expand and the filaments wove themselves into a net across the young man's stomach, supporting it as it grew. At first it was a relatively flat web but as weeks turned to months it swelled and made James increasingly rotund. It looked very odd and distinctly unappealing, grey-white in colour, plastered across James' abdomen and appearing, Mike thought, like either a huge spider's web or a dead jellyfish or perhaps a combination of the two. James seemed peculiarly proud of his appearance and Mike knew he couldn't say what he thought without getting tears and tantrums for his comments so he told Phil and Si exactly what he thought the growing bump looked like. Their laughter rang for hours, much to James' disgruntlement as no one felt able to explain what it was they found so funny.

Because of the discomfort James rarely dressed beyond low-slung boxers or sweat pants and dressing gowns flung unfastened around his shoulders and rarely moved beyond his own flat or his fathers' home, concealing from the outside world the ever growing web that grew in spidery tendrils right across his abdomen, from hip to hip, encasing the bubble. As the baby's growth sped up in the later months the bubble turned a pale pink and Mike became entranced rather than disgusted by the appearance, loving to watch as his son grew, almost visible through the translucent skin that covered him.

For the last three months all normal activities stopped and James became completely bedridden, unable even to walk to the bathroom. The pain was unbelievable as the baby grew at an incredible rate stretching the sensitive strands to their limit and beyond. It was at this point, Phil warned the couple, that the baby would abort and be stillborn at the slightest disturbance. Mike consequently took on the tasks of washing and cleaning James, spoon-feeding him, dressing him in what few clothes he could cope with and carefully embracing him around the arms or shoulders, kissing him gently as he sobbed in agony, struggling with the pain. Every night he massaged James' shoulders or feet for hours to ensure that he relaxed enough to get a little sleep.

Phil explained to Mike why the use of painkillers and drugs was impossible and why James had to endure the seeming unendurable agony. "The womb isn't connected to our bodies except through our central nervous system. Topical painkillers won't reach it as it doesn't have any circulation and those that act on the central nervous system for some reason universally shut down the baby's fluid transfusion through the umbilical cord. If James took anything like morphine or something the baby would die within minutes. If he ever slips into unconsciousness the effect is the same, the baby will die, no two ways about it. So no, Mike, there isn't anything he can take to numb the pain, nothing at all."

The agony didn't stop James complaining though and he developed a short fuse and a vile temper. "I wish I could just go to the loo already, I've got no fucking dignity left" he stated flatly as he peed in a bottle. "How do you think I feel?" Mike shot back. "This isn't my idea of a good time either, you know but your choice is simple, dignity or child, you can't have both James."

James screamed, "you don't think I fucking know that! You think I'd have allowed Tom, my baby brother for fuck's sake, to wipe my arse yesterday if I didn't know, fucking hell!" he snapped before starting to cry again. "Mike, I'm sorry, it hurts so much" he said softly between his tears. "I know, sweetheart" Mike replied, kissing him on the forehead, "I know."

When Mike had to leave James' side to go to work either Phil, Simon or Tom would take his place, ensuring that James was never left alone, if for no other reason than to give him someone to yell at. In the end, as he was a partner in the law firm and had a certain flexibility in his contract Mike arranged six week's leave of absence, reasoning that an overdraft was easier to cope with than a stillbirth, especially as they'd already gone through so much in order to have the child.

Mike finally sold his cottage and purchased another one, about forty miles from the first but with similar Pennine scenery and an equally lovely garden and moved his furniture into it, ready for when he brought James home. James, of course, couldn't visit but Mike took photographs and described it in detail.

In the last week of gestation the strands began to lose some of their terrible sensitivity, indicating that the birth was imminent. Mike finally went and purchased some baby clothes and nursery items, knowing the threat of stillbirth or abortion had passed at long last. Self-conscious and uncomfortable, he told the shop assistants that whatever he was buying was a present for his sister. He set up a corner of their bedroom for the child, knowing they'd only be there a week or so, until James was back on his feet and ready to move to their new cottage where the boy would get his own room. The couple cooed over the small blue babygrows they'd bought and marvelled at how tiny the bootees and nappies were, as the prospect of becoming parents suddenly became very real. "I can't believe this bump will finally go, it feels like it's been here forever" James observed, "and to think, all of this" he indicated the growth on his stomach, "will fit into one of these" he held up a tiny newborn baby's vest. "it won't be long now" Mike said. "God knows I bet you're sick of my cooking if nothing else." James chuckled and then said, "shit, Mike, don't make me laugh, argh, fuck that hurts!"

"I'm sorry James, shh, relax" Mike comforted him, "Shh, deep breaths, lie down again, I'll put these away" he finished, lifting the baby clothes off the bed and putting them back in the chest of drawers where he'd stored them.

With the diminishing sensitivity in the web, Mike was finally able, with extreme care, to touch it and feel the warmth of his son for the first time though he couldn't move his hands around, neither could he touch the bubble and filaments for very long. He was excited at the prospect of seeing the child but hadn't actually given much thought to the mechanics of the birth. He was aware that James had spoken with Phil and Si at length about it and had actually decided he didn't really want to know, instead simply trusting that they were all prepared. Finally, one night James kicked him awake. "It's time" he said, a sheen of sweat beading at his brow. "Go and get Phil, he'll talk you through it" he said. "Talk me through it?" Mike stuttered.

"Yeah, you deliver him, it has to be you or else the parent bond might not form as it should" James gasped. "Now hurry up and go and get him, it's beginning to tear! Shit!" he gasped, writhing on the bed. "Go!"

In no time at all Mike had woken the older man and the pair stood at James' bedside. "James, you need to get off the bed and onto your knees" Phil said. "Fuck off" he growled in between gasps.

"James, come on lad, you need to move, you'll never deliver lying down" Phil continued implacably. He looked at Mike. "You get his left arm and I'll get his right and we'll drag him to the floor."

"Bastard that fucking hurts!" James panted as he was dragged off the bed and to the floor and left kneeling on the carpet.

"You got some towels?" Phil asked calmly, ignoring James' gasping. Mike nodded and collected a heap, which were spread thickly between James' knees and on the carpet in front of him. "And you'll need your baby clothes and a nappy ready and a soft cotton cloth to clean him with" he smiled, watching as Mike's hands shook when he collected the items. All the time James alternately panted and swore under his breath, a combination of agony, frustration and the absolute unavoidability of the coming pain overwhelming him.

The bubble had begun to tear at the bottom and drip clear fluid down James' genitals and onto the towels, flowing faster and faster as he gasped and writhed with the pain. Phil said, "Mike, you need to let James lean on you, he has to lean further forward. Come on James" he coached, "get hold of Mike's shoulders and let him pull you over." James spat a string of obscenities at his father who shrugged. "James, lad, I said approximately the same thing to my dad when I was in labour with you and it had no effect then either. The longer you mess about the longer it's going to take and the more it'll hurt. Now lean over."

"Isn't this going to hurt, if the bubble's already torn?" Mike asked, then realised with a start exactly how the child would be born. "Fuck, I didn't realise the kid would be ripped out" he exclaimed, shocked.

"What did you expect would happen? We don't have a birth canal like women do" Phil said with a touch of amusement. "That's right, James, we'll have this done as quickly as we can" he said reassuringly as James grasped Mike with sweaty hands. "The weight of the baby and the motion of gravity helps it tear quicker" he then told Mike, "if he stays on his back or even kneeling upright it'll last far longer and there's a chance he'd pass out from the pain if it goes on for too long. If he does go unconscious then it all becomes a race to get the baby out before he suffocates or drowns. That's right" he coached, "just a little further, lower him down a little bit more, Mike, there, that's right."

"Fuck, that hurts" James swore than screamed a ear-splitting yell that probably woke the whole street. "You're doing fine, lad, it's stretching and tearing nicely" Phil said after he'd crouched down and looked. "The fluid's dripping out all along the front. Give it another few centimetres then it's your turn to get your hands mucky" he said to Mike.

"What do I do?" Mike asked shakily, still supporting most of James' weight as he leaned onto him.

"You need to work your fingers into the split in the bubble, rip it fully open and catch your son before he falls. It's meant to be ripped, Mike" he assured him. Mike trembled and tried to speak but no words would come out. "Don't worry, I'll coach you through it."

"Won't it hurt even more, doing that?" Mike was finally able to ask. "Yeah but it's far gentler on the baby and James knows full well it'll be torn open sooner or later, it's better to get it out of the way as quick as we can" he smiled. "It's a temporary structure, meant to be ripped and torn away and removed" he said, noting Mike's sickened expression. "In a fortnight's time you'll never know it had been there. James has seen a birth before, he knew what to expect, he watched Simon when Carl was delivered, it's not like he's come into this blind and anyway there's no turning back now."

"But I don't know how to hold a baby" Mike tried to protest again. Phil just laughed. "Well you'll have to learn pretty damn fast. As long as you support his neck and make sure his head doesn't wobble too much you'll be fine. But keep a tight grip when you grab hold, he'll be a slippery little bugger when you first pull him out." Mike gulped and tried to stop his hands from shaking.

After an eternally long half-hour of agonised waiting Phil crouched down and looked at the tear and the dripping fluid again for the dozenth time. "We're almost there, Mike" he said. "James, you need to hold on yourself, now, Mike's going to let go of you." James was beyond speech and was only able to nod wordlessly before draping heavy, trembling arms around Mike's neck and resting his head on his shoulder. "Okay, Mike, hands on the bump, lean in, that's right, get them right underneath. You should be able to feel the baby's back from there?"

"Yeah, I think I can" Mike said, "Yeah and his head" he confirmed, sudden confidence coming from an inner strength he didn't know he had. "Right, can you feel the split? It'll be quite smooth and damp, all the filaments have snapped already and it's dripping along the length."

"Got it" Mike answered. "Okay, use your fingertips and push them in, through the skin." Mike tried and James screamed right down his ear. "I can't do this, it's hurting him too much" Mike protested.

"You're doing fine" Phil said calmly, "that's exactly right, keep pushing until the fluid flows right over your hands and you touch the baby's back." Mike did as he was bid, apologising to James who screamed again. "Now push one hand right inside and support the back and with your other, quickly pull the tear to extend it until you can get your hand up to hold his head" Phil instructed. "You're doing fine, James, hang on just a few more minutes, you son's almost out" he assured him.

"Come on Mike, you're prolonging the agony, get hold of the baby already" he instructed in a tone of voice that left no room for debate. Mike gritted his teeth, forced the tear open and both of his hands fully inside and with a gush of warm fluid and another ear splitting scream from James, a little boy fell into his hands. He lowered him gently away from James' torso and onto the towels with trembling hands and as the flow of liquid finally diminished the baby began to cry in a newborn wail. "There, that wasn't so difficult was it?" Phil said softly. "James, son, he's out" he said. "Deep breaths, that's right, calm, calm. Come on, kneel up and take a peek."

Mike still had hold of the baby so Phil got hold of James' shoulders and helped him sit back onto his knees. He was covered with sweat and fluid and a mess of torn skin and filaments was plastered in a disc around his abdomen. An umbilical cord ran from the baby's navel to James' own, white, woven from the same filaments that had made the supporting web. Phil was there with some string and a sharp knife and he tied the cord, first at the child's own belly then as close to James' as he could. With each wrap of the string James yelped. "Right, last bit of pain and he probably will pass out now" he warned Mike. "I'm going to cut the cord right near the baby's navel and as soon as I do you need to take him off the wet towels and dry him as quick as you can, then dress him. I'll catch James and take the rest of the umbilical and the filaments off. Ready?" he asked. "No" James said, "but do it anyway."

James closed his eyes and started some breathing exercises. Mike gripped the slippery, crying baby a little more firmly. Phil mouthed a silent countdown as he grasped the cord and readied the knife. "Three, two, one, now" he mouthed before bringing the knife down with a swift cutting blow. James screamed louder than he had before, his eyes rolled into his skull and he began to topple forwards, even as Mike lifted the baby away and Phil grabbed his son and lowered him onto the carpet and into the recovery position.

Mike carefully dried the crying baby and put a nappy, vest and sleepsuit on him before wrapping him in a blanket and cuddling him to his chest, suddenly feeling an amazing warmth of affection for the wriggling, sobbing bundle. Behind him, Phil had cut the umbilical cord away from James' stomach and had peeled the web of filaments away from his stomach. James opened his eyes, breathing shallow, shaky breaths. "All over" Phil said, "come on, lad, can you sit on the bed?" He lifted him under the arms and helped him up onto the edge of the bed where he'd placed a thick, dry towel. "I think you need to feed your son, Mike'll finish cleaning you up" he whispered, taking the baby out of Mike's arms and placing him in James'.

"What do I do?" Mike asked, still in shock. "The scraps of filament that are left aren't connected, they have no feeling left in them, so they can just be peeled or washed away" Phil instructed, "then wipe James down and help him get clean. You need to be really careful with his umbilical, though, it'll take a while to heal over. Don't worry, as long as you avoid his belly button you're not going to hurt him" he said. He smiled. "Congratulations to you both and well done" he finished before letting himself out.

Mike proceeded to help James wash and clean up using warm, soapy water and the remainder of their dry towels. His stomach was pale compared to the rest of his body, having been nine months away from the sunlight. As he wiped the remainder of the filaments and fluid away, he watched James cradle the infant, who cried and whimpered a little in between spurts of peculiar slurping noises. Presently Mike realised what he was hearing.

James was breastfeeding.

James caught Mike's astonished stare. "What did you expect?" he grinned a tired smile. "There's a reason men have nipples" he pointed out, "and our son is hungry."

Mike put all the wet towels in the washer together with the cloths he'd used to clean James and the baby up then helped him into a pair of shorts, onto the bed and covered him with the duvet. James leaned back on a heap of pillows by the headboard of the bed and continued to feed the baby. "What do you reckon, Michael junior?" he asked, regarding the baby's contented face.

"He looks more like a James junior to me" Mike replied, sitting next to where his lover nursed his newborn son, gazing at them in shear, stunned adoration.

"What was your dad's name?" James asked. "George" Mike replied.

"Baby George it is then" he said. Mike went to object but James silenced him with a finger over his lips. "I insist" he said.

James and the baby slept for most of the day, the birth exhausting them both. The day after Phil, Si and James' brothers all came to meet their new grandson and nephew respectively. "He's dead wrinkly like Mike" Carl observed after a few seconds of being ushered into the room. "Carl, that's rude!" Si exclaimed. "Apologise this instant!" Nothing could upset Mike that day and he just laughed. "He is a bit wrinkly isn't he?" he replied.

"Hey, I've been meaning to ask you" Mike asked Si once the visitor's excitement died down, "what do you do about birth certificates and stuff?" Simon smiled. "We have a few contacts, I've taken the liberty of ordering all the paperwork for you, it should arrive in a few days, I've asked them to post it to your new address."

"What paperwork is that?"

"I've ordered a birth certificate for the baby with a non-existent mother and a death certificate for the same woman. Oh yeah, and a marriage certificate that shows James married her two years ago. They make the baby a full fortnight older than he is but that gives the woman time to die and her bereaved husband time to sort out the funeral and ask his cousin for help. I hope that's okay?"

"That's great" Mike replied, "and we're moving tomorrow so all will be normal and human-looking again." He looked around. "Where is the little tike, by the way?" he asked.

"Being cuddled by his uncles" James answered, walking on shaky legs over to where his lover and his father stood. "I think Tom's getting broody" he said. "Did I ever tell you I love you?" he asked, burrowing into Mike's arm. "Did I ever reply I love you too?" Mike replied back, kissing him.

They moved away from the city as planned, into the Pennine village where Mike had bought their new house. James acted suitably bereaved and Mike explained that his young cousin had just lost his wife and had had to move in order to escape painful memories. After a couple of months, James, as good looking and fit as ever, turned heads and caused quite a stir among the mums when he began taking George to the parent and baby group at the local community centre. George was, by this time, mostly bottle fed, at least during the day – there was no way James would ever be able to breast feed in public and not get arrested for it. Mike did as much as he could to help and it was with some considerable regret that he left for work each morning.

On weekends they did their shopping in the village centre together and they drew quite a number of curious comments from their neighbours. "A child living with two men, that's a little strange, isn't it?" a woman in the grocers said somewhat dubiously. "Well, if his mother hadn't died in childbirth we wouldn't have had to do this but we've not got any female relatives" Mike replied, looking suitably grief-stricken. James took his cue to produce a few crocodile tears and start sniffing, at which point, uncomfortable and apologetic, the woman backed off and left them alone. "If you don't mind me asking, where's his mother?" the local vicar asked on a warm spring Saturday afternoon when they met her whilst walking past the church. "In southern cemetery" James told her in a shaky voice, turning on the tears once more.

"Hey, James, I've never heard you or your dads ever talk about religion or Christianity" Mike observed after the vicar had retreated. "Do you go to church or anything?" James shook his head. "Christianity's for humans, Mike" he said with a faint tinge of regret in his voice. "The whole story begins with Christ's birth, a boy born of a woman" he pointed out. "And the church says that he came to redeem Humanity. There's no mention of Sparta there, not even hidden under a mistranslation. We weren't meant to be part of his plan, I don't think. Now, how on earth did we get onto such a morbid subject as religion?" he asked with a grin, breaking the suddenly tense mood. "Sorry, sweetheart, I guess I didn't think it through" Mike apologised.

The following day Phil, Simon and Carl came around for Sunday lunch, a meal that had become a regular appointment. Tom had been out the previous night and hadn't gotten home and Alex had a friend from his swimming club coming over. "Starting young, isn't he?" Mike laughed after asking where the older two were. "It's the first time we've allowed it" Phil said, "and he promised he'd be careful. Besides which he claimed that this friend of his thought he knew him and that he'd felt a connection. I'm sure he's just trying to pull a fast one but we couldn't risk him losing his life partner." Mike laughed all the harder. "He's playing you both for fools, he knew you wouldn't be able to refuse him!"

"Yeah, well, we all do it and argue as they will any spartan dads know they can't refuse the `he might be my life partner' card. You just watch James' reaction when George does it to you" Si joined in the general laughter. "Hopefully we won't get to that point for a few years at least" Mike replied in pretend huffiness.

They sat in the living room with drinks and laughed and chatted about inconsequential things. George was asleep in a bouncing cradle as presently James said, "Si, Mike was asking about religion yesterday, why we're not Christians. I thought since you grew up with granddad Paul you'd be able to explain it better than me."

"That's not necessary" Mike interrupted, "James explained why you're not Christians, about Jesus being a boy born of a woman, I understand" he said. Simon smiled, "No, I think James means explain to you about our faith, tell you what we do believe" he said, looking at his son, who nodded.

"We originated in the ancient Greek city of Sparta" he began, "and so legend tells us we were created by the god Apollo after some of the city's enemies from another part of Greece circled around the army and slaughtered all the inhabitants. Only a fragment of the army, who'd been away from the city and who were all male, were left and Apollo blessed them with the ability to breed and rebuild our population, despite having no women to bear our children. But the goddess Hera was angry that he'd given men the ability to bare children so she tried to curse his work and stop his blessing, reducing us back to ordinary humans again. Our ancestors prayed to Zeus asking that he would intervene, begging that they would be allowed to live and procreate and survive in order to avenge the fallen and defeat their enemies. Zeus granted them the blessing, confirming Apollo's gift of procreation but out of deference to Hera who was his wife, he made it that we would suffer agonising pains by doing so. Out of spite, angry with her husband, Hera ensured we'd never be able to fertilise and have children with a woman and to answer her Apollo's final gift was that we would be attracted to and able to find compatible partners either amongst our fellow spartans or ordinary human men. Most spartans, when they pray, thank Apollo and Zeus, for creating and blessing us and we cry tears for Hera's anger, hoping she realises that we never meant to hurt her and that we only accepted the change to avenge our fallen wives and daughters."

"Apollo, Zeus, Hera, they're ancient Greek gods" Mike said. "Yeah" Simon replied, "and most of us don't pray that often or that openly but we still believe in our creation story. Christianity holds nothing for us, Mike" he continued, "not when our creation is so recent or so real. It should be obvious to anyone that we never would have evolved naturally, every other mammal on the planet needs both genders to breed and only females bare young. And we never would have survived living in the wild, the support we need to carry our sons to term means we can only have evolved or been created in an already-civilised society."

"Shit" Mike said softly, "that's really" he paused, "god, I never would have even considered" he said again, not sure how to express what he was thinking. "Mike, it's no big deal" James said. "Like Si said, we don't pray that often or that openly but most spartans know and believe our creation story. Our faith is mostly fairly private, shared from fathers to sons. But you were asking yesterday and I didn't feel I could explain it, that's why I asked Si to." Mike smiled. "Thanks" he said with genuine feeling, "it's nice to understand."

"Talking of faith, I know it embarrasses you James but I'm sure your granddad Paul is expecting to see you before George gets too old" Phil pointed out. Simon nodded. "He asked me on the phone last week if you were planning on phoning him any time soon."

"Phoning him about what?" Mike interrupted. "There's only one temple in Britain and Simon's dad, my granddad Paul, is a priest" James said. "He wants us to take him down to London and present him. I guess it's our version of a Christening" he smiled.

"Why does it embarrass you, James?" Mike asked softly. "Shit, Mike" he said, "it feels odd to confess belief in gods that most people dismiss as myth. Added to which it's a secret faith, we can't so very well advertise it when our whole society hides. I don't know whether embarrassment is the right word but I don't like to talk about it."

"What James is trying to say is that he's a true believer but he can't explain why he believes" Phil said with a soft smile. "In that case" Mike said, "you definitely need to get in touch with your granddad." He thought for a moment. "I don't know if this is a daft question or what" he said, "but I can't see as I'm going to find out without asking. Will I be permitted to join you or is it only spartans who can go to the temple?"

"Up to about forty years ago you'd have been made to wait in the lobby and watch through a grille in the back wall" Simon said, "but after Paul was forced to present me and my brother by himself he decided it was time to change the rules and started to lobby the temple authorities. Being a priest himself they listened to his arguments. It took ages but finally it was agreed that both fathers should take their sons in, whether they're spartan or human. There's some stuff you aren't permitted to join in with but yes, you can come inside now, in fact it's expected."

"Are you going to phone him then?" Mike asked James. "You're sure you don't mind us doing this?" he replied. "Why would I mind?" Mike countered. James frowned. "It'll freak you out" he said. "It's not like a church service, Mike, it's more" he paused, "like the ancient rite of passage it is. We do most of it in English, not Greek now but that's about the only thing that's changed in about three thousand years."

"I still don't understand why it'd freak me out" Mike asked.

"What James is unsuccessfully trying to hint at is that traditional worship of Apollo is undertaken naked except for ceremonial swords that mark us as descendents of the army of Sparta" Phil said. "And as well as drawing the swords there's one prayer where we ask Apollo to claim his sons and at that point the filaments of every spartan present, including little George, will show for a few seconds. You'll be self conscious first of all because you'll be unarmed and completely starkers and then to make matters worse it'll be obvious to everyone present that you're physically not like the rest of us. Then just when you've gotten over that the priest will get hold of George's filaments to prove they're real and he'll scream the building down." He stopped talking and took in Mike's stunned face. "There's more than one reason why we take boys when they're so young, it's such a traumatic experience that they need time to forget it."

"Did you take all your boys?" Mike asked and Si nodded. "My dad's one of the priests, it wasn't like we had much choice. But we don't go to regular worship or anything, the last time we went was when we took Carl when he was four months old."

Mike looked at James' face. "Your faith is really important to you, isn't it?" he asked and reluctantly James nodded. "In that case you should phone your granddad as soon as you can." James nodded again, subdued. "I will but don't complain afterwards that I didn't give you a warning that you wouldn't like it" he said.

"Si, are we all going?" Carl asked. "I don't remember what it's like at all and I haven't seen granddads Paul and Jim since two summers ago."

"If you promise to behave and do what we tell you, I can't see why not, in fact" he continued, exchanging a peculiar look with Phil, "I think you should" Si answered. "If nothing else it'll be good for you to get an idea of what your filaments feel like since you were so determined to try and touch James' when they emerged."

Three weeks later they found themselves in a pair of cars driving south to the capital. James had already visited the temple to discuss some things with his granddad and he'd set the ceremony's date then.

It was a long journey but eventually they arrived at a suburban semi some miles outside of the city proper. A spartan man who appeared to be in his seventies or eighties, accompanied by an even older-looking human man in a wheelchair came outside as they pulled up. They smiled and waved as Si, Phil, Tom, Alex and Carl got out of their car. Mike lifted George's travel seat out of their vehicle and followed James and the rest up the driveway. "It's great to see you all, it's been years" the spartan man gushed, "and James, finally a father!" As they went inside with bags and baggage and finally got the front door shut he suddenly became more formal. "The blessing of Zeus be on you" he whispered, holding his hands up in benediction. "And on you" all the family except for Mike replied, bowing their heads briefly.

"Ah, Mike, isn't it?, I'm Paul and this is my partner Jim" he continued, seeing him standing awkwardly at the back of the group, still holding George's car seat. "Mike, you've made our grandson so happy and thanks to you we've finally got a great grandson that carries spartan blood into a new generation. Will you accept the blessing of the gods, Mike?" Mike just stood there, feeling increasingly awkward, not sure how to reply. "Please, humour a foolish old man" he smiled. "You don't have to do anything" he continued, "I've got the rest of my family well trained but I know this will all be strange to you. Please?"

Mike nodded and put George's seat on the floor and Paul rested both of his hands on Mike's shoulders and closed his eyes. "Father Zeus, fount of all blessings, we thank you for Michael and his family, for the man who fathered him and the woman who bore him through their humanity. Divine Apollo our creator, we thank you for your blessing and intercession that brought Mike and James together in the joyful union of spartan fatherhood. Gracious Hera, in remembrance of our ancient grandmothers we beg that you meet Mike with mercy and forgiveness. In the name of the peoples of Sparta we pray. There" he finished, moving his hands and opening his eyes, "that didn't hurt did it?"

"No" Mike said, still feeling a little stunned and obviously looking a little wild around the eyes. "Mike, you think this is bad and you'll definitely run in the morning" Tom teased. "Leave him alone" James interrupted, "when we came for Alex's presentation, at one moment you began to yelp like a frightened puppy and then you peed yourself. You've not exactly got a clean slate yourself, try to be a little more understanding." Tom pouted. "James I was five years old!" he objected. James just laughed. "James, you made an equal fool of yourself at Tom's presentation, remember?" Phil said softly. Something passed between father and son, something Mike couldn't quite figure out, a kind of wild-eyed sympathy or something. "You don't have to come, you know" Phil said to Mike. "No one will think less of you for sitting it out." Mike just shrugged. "I've come this far" he said.

Tom looked at Mike with surprising seriousness. "Honestly Mike, don't just come because of our macho bullshit, you really don't need to be there." Mike looked around the faces. "What aren't you telling me? Why don't you want me to come?" he asked.

"Calm down, Mike, come to the temple in the morning, you can join us to begin with and leave at any time you want" Paul said, not really answering Mike's worried question, more like diverting it. He led everyone through to the kitchen and putting the kettle on to make some tea, "I'll explain what I can tonight and go through the sections you can and can't join in with. You'll be fine tomorrow. All human dads feel exactly the same about coming in to the temple for the first time."

They had supper together and argued about sleeping arrangements – because of Jim's frailty and disability he and Paul had a bedroom downstairs so there was plenty of space but there was only one proper bed so most of them were on lilo's and camp beds scattered around the four upstairs rooms. Mike didn't eat much and hardly slept – even with Paul's gracious and very welcome explanations he was still incredibly nervous and it didn't help that the rest of the family, with the exception of Carl, also seemed a little subdued. He'd have to be silent through most of the rite and stay motionless when the swords were drawn. He was permitted to speak when he and James were asked to introduce George and also to join in with one prayer but other than that he had very little to do.

Mike was more nervous than ever and completely unable to eat anything the next morning. Tom and Alex both teased him, betting with each other whether he'd last more or less than two minutes before running. Paul had assured him that no one would think less of him if he couldn't cope and had to leave. "Mike, at least one in three presentations with split parentage ends up with the human father vanishing. I had one a month ago who even passed out on us. If your fear does get the better of you please just go and sit down in the lobby and calm yourself down, it's perfectly fine to leave at any point you want."

They presently arrived at the temple, which had a false front that appeared like a scruffy nineteen sixties office block. "We try and keep it as non-descript as we can on the outside" James whispered as they entered. "We don't want people to know about it, after all." They entered the building and a bored-looking, uniformed security guard stopped them at the door. "You got an appointment?" he asked gruffly. "George Jameson, eleven o'clock" James answered calmly. The taciturn security guard checked a scruffy clipboard then his face split into a broad grin. "Go through, you're expected" he smiled, indicating the door at the back of the lobby.

Passing through the small doorway Mike suddenly was quite overwhelmed. In front of him was a spacious plaza and the other side had a huge, ornate pillared-doorway set into a snowy-white facade carved with innumerable freezes. In the plaza it seemed that dozens of people milled and Mike found himself on the receiving end of a number of rapid introductions. "This is my uncle David, Phil's brother and his partner Pierre" James began, indicating a couple, one spartan and one human, "and my cousins, Jean and Antoine" he began. "And granddad Tom, one of Phil's dads and my great-granddad Carl, they live near my uncle David" he continued. "It's a shame Cliff couldn't be here to see this" the elderly Tom said sadly, shaking Mike's hand. "Cliff was Phil's human dad" James explained, looking around. "Oh, good grief, it isn't?" he said, "Shit, I never thought I'd see you here!" he gushed to another, undeniably human man. "Mike, this is my uncle Andrew, he was Si's brother's partner. Shit, it's been years, how are you?"

"I'm coping better now than I did to begin with" he said softly and Mike remembered that Si's brother had committed suicide after both of his children spontaneously aborted. "I've been helping Paul out with Jim's care, it's been good to have them" he continued. "And when they said that Si's grandson was being presented today I couldn't resist coming to see you. James, it must be at least fifteen years, you were only a kid the last time I saw you and you're finally a dad. I'm really pleased for you, really I am."

A deep gong sounded from somewhere inside the temple proper. "We've got ten minutes" James said, "come on Mike, we'll see you later Andrew, okay?" Andrew nodded and went to help Jim as James led Mike over to one of a dozen banks of clothes pegs and benches. All around the plaza the men, some he knew and others he didn't, were beginning to take shoes and socks off and get undressed. The nudity suddenly made the whole situation hit Mike like a sledgehammer and he began to hyperventilate. James noticed and said, "Shh, calm down, deep breaths. You're not the only human here, you'll be fine. And you don't need to come in if you don't want, you can wait out here" he offered gently.

Mike sat down and tried to calm himself, noticing as he did so that Simon had already stripped and was accompanying a strangely subdued and obviously nervous Alex and Carl to the huge doorway to the main temple. Before they entered properly Mike watched as an attendant strapped antique-looking leather sword belts and scabbards to their waists, longer ones for Si and Alex, a slightly shorter version for young Carl. Phil was still half-dressed and was giving a hyperventilating, fully dressed Tom a similar pep-talk to the one James was giving him. "It bothers you all doesn't it?" he asked James, who nodded. "Public worship isn't really part of our lives. Except for Paul and the other priests it kind of freaks us all out. It's quite normal to be scared" he finished and with that he stood and began to get undressed. Finally, as a now-naked James stripped little George and cradled him tightly, Mike managed to make himself move and take off his clothes and gripping James' free hand tightly they walked to the temple door together.

The attendant looked at the three and smiled. "Give the boy to your partner, I won't be able to fasten your sword otherwise" he said softly. "You're the boy's birth father?" he asked and James nodded. The attendant turned and picked what looked like the heaviest, most ornate belt from the rack. James handed George to a trembling Mike and the huge leather belt and heavy bronze weapon was buckled tightly around James' waist and a guide strap was slung crossways over one shoulder to help support the heavy weight. Once it was attached James reached over and took George again. Mike looked at the attendant but he shook his head with a sympathetic look and suddenly Mike couldn't breathe again. "You don't have to come in" James offered. "Yes I do" Mike replied and grasping James' free hand again they walked through the huge doorway.

It was dark and smoky inside, an open fire burned in a pit in the centre of the room and the ceiling was dark and lost in the gloom. Around the sides bronze statues of bulls and warrior figures reflected the golden firelight. At the front of the room three huge figures, a large male in gold, a slightly smaller male in copper and a woman in black obsidian dominated the whole scene. A large, ugly low stone dais covered with some strange dark stains sat in front of the figures, in the centre of which was a small, white, baby's blanket. There were no chairs and the dark red polished stone floor was cold under Mike's bare feet. The men stood haphazardly around the room talking in low voices as James led Mike towards the front of the room. Almost all wore a sword which, coupled with their naturally tall and muscled physique made Mike feel incredibly vulnerable.

Presently another attendant circulated around, giving out white laminated cards on which were printed the communal prayers and responses. Mike took one for him and James to share. After everyone was ready, the deep gong sounded again from somewhere unseen and Paul emerged from a side door. All talking ceased as he came to the centre of the room and stood with his back to the assembly, facing the three huge statues. He wore a pair of heavy looking swords slung in over-the-shoulder scabbards and riding on both of his hips. He put his hands on the hilts and began intoning a long prayer in a language Mike didn't understand. "You can leave any time you want if it gets too much" James whispered to Mike quietly. After a few minutes Paul turned around and began to speak in English.

"Who do I see before me?" he asked in formal tones.

"The sons of Sparta!" the spartan members of the assembly shouted. Mike resisted the urge to run and stood his ground, trembling slightly as Paul continued, "And how do you exist?"

"By the divine intervention of our most gracious god Apollo"

"And what do you require?"

"The blessing of holy Zeus, this day and always."

Mike watched as James shuffled George carefully so that he leaned high up on his left shoulder, supporting him with just the one hand. His right hand went to the pommel of the sword as Paul asked, "and for what reason were you created?"

As one the spartan men drew the swords with a steely hiss. They raised them in the air and shouted, "for vengeance!" Mike's blood ran cold and he suddenly felt defenceless and afraid. He instinctively took a step away from the blades before swallowing his fear and forcing himself to stand his ground.

The swords were sheathed, Mike noticed, except for James' who just lowered the wicked looking blade to his side. Paul moved forwards away from the dais and approached Mike and James. "Who do you bring?" he asked

"A son of Sparta" both answered, the first thing Mike was permitted to say.

"And how is he called?"

"George son of James and Michael" they answered as they had been coached.

"And he was borne of?"

"James son of Philip"

"And how will he live?"

"By the creation of Apollo and the blessing of Zeus and through the forbearance of Hera" Mike and James again answered together.

"Mighty Apollo" the prayer began, spoken by all the spartans in the assembly, "for vengeance and out of sympathy for our tears for our mothers you created us. You blessed us and set us apart from all other men. By your divine intervention alone we exist and give birth to new life and keep the memory of our home and your mercy alive across the years. We thank you for this your new son, born to keep the same memory alive into a new generation." The second prayer began, again one Mike couldn't say, "Divine Hera, we cry with you and ask you to moderate your anger. Out of grief for our mothers we continue to accept both blessing and curse and pray to you, reluctant mother of us all that you will one day forgive our impertinence."

Finally the third communal prayer was one Mike could join in with. "Mighty Zeus, creator of all, who granted your blessing on the whole world and confirmed your love for the men of Sparta be with us this hour as we welcome our newest brother and son to the fold. In the name of the people of Sparta we pray."

"James and Michael, bring George forward" Paul said softly. "Offer him on the altar" he said, walking towards the stone bier and standing behind it. They walked forwards and, following whispered instructions from James, Mike took George out of his single free hand and carefully put him down on the soft blanket, thinking, suddenly, that the baby looked very small and vulnerable and alone and wondering why James still hadn't sheathed his sword. "Mike, go stand with my dads and please remember, you can run if you need to" James whispered in his ear a second time before he moved to stand next to Paul behind the altar. Mike walked towards Phil and Simon and turned back to watch, trembling and as nervous as hell. He didn't understand why James had reminded him he could run and couldn't fathom why Phil had casually walked up and placed one hand on his shoulder and Tom had stepped closer to his other side. He watched with morbid fascination as Paul began speaking once more.

"You claim this boy to be a son of Sparta" Paul asked and James alone said, "yes, I do."

"Do you know what Apollo requires from those who take the spartan name in vain?"

"Yes I do" James said again.

"And should your claim be proven false do you have the strength to do what is necessary?"

James took a deep breath. "Yes I do" he answered a third time and to Mike's horror he twirled his sword in both hands, held the razor sharp blade high, reversed his grip and adjusted his stance so that he could plunge the weapon directly into the baby's heart.

"No!" he heard himself gasp and he took an involuntary step forward but quickly, Phil gripped his shoulder with vice-like fingertips and Tom grabbed his other arm, holding him still. "Calm down and stay silent or leave" Phil said in a hissed whisper. "Whatever you do, don't make a scene and don't interrupt, this is the most sacred part of the whole rite." With a deep breath Mike struggled to compose himself and watched with tears and terror in his eyes.

Paul put his hands on his own sword hilts and fell to one knee. James stayed standing and Mike noticed that he was trembling though the sword stayed perfectly still. "Mighty Apollo" all the spartan men began intoning together and Mike noticed that the voices suddenly weren't as loud as they had been before but for some reason seemed more sincere. "We thank you for your divine intervention. We most humbly beg that you identify and claim as your own the sons of Sparta here present and accept as a sacrifice those who claim your parentage falsely." All around the temple the spartan men began to shudder and gasp as waving white filaments appeared on all of them. Mike heard what he was sure was Carl beginning to cry but his eyes were only for his son and partner, together in a horrid tableau at the altar. He watched as a tiny, thin white tendril grew from George's navel. With a visible and obvious expression of relief Paul leaned over and grasped the tendril between his thumb and forefinger and the little boy let out and ear-splitting scream and began to wail and even as he did so James noticeably relaxed but didn't move the blade. Paul let go as quickly as he'd gotten hold but the boy continued to wail inconsolably. "Apollo you bless us with your gift and your presence, hold us in your arms we pray" Paul said. "Hera your curse is our dignity and identity, look with mercy upon us we pray. Zeus we present this our brother George Jameson as a true son of Sparta and worthy by all present to be called kin."

"Worthy by all present to be called kin" everyone repeated together. Paul then got to his feet and let go of his swords. "Son of Sparta" he said to James, "Lower your sword and recognise your brother" and finally James lowered and sheathed the terrible blade with a huge sigh of relief. Tom let go of Mike's arm and Phil released his shoulder. Paul bent down and lifted George off the altar, kissed him gently, walked down and handed him to Mike with a smile. "Let us welcome our son and brother" Paul said and at that the formality was broken and with smiles, handshakes and kisses.

James walked over to Mike and George. "Why the fuck didn't you tell me about that business with the sword?" a still-furious Mike demanded as soon as he found his voice. "It took every ounce of strength I possessed not to run up and."

"Mike, honey, I wasn't allowed to" James interrupted his rant. "It's our most closely guarded secret and one of the most specific commands from Apollo himself. No one is permitted to claim either for themselves or for another spartan heritage if it cannot be proven through prayer. If falsehood is proved then sacrifice is demanded. For fuck's sake, Mike" James continued, seeing his lover's still stony face, "didn't you notice Paul's hands? If George's filaments didn't emerge or weren't real then if I didn't kill him Paul was honour bound to draw his swords and kill both of us. It's never happened in living memory but it's a command from our god and we cannot disobey it, not ever." He had tears in his eyes as he spoke. "Mike, please, say something" he begged.

"Fuck, James, my heart nearly stopped when you raised the blade" he said. "I know honey, I could feel your pain. I so wanted you to run, I didn't want you to see that bit." Mike smiled, breaking the tension, "what and confirm to Tom and Alex that I'm as big a wimp as they think I am? I'm sorry, James, I know it must have scared you as much as it did me." James just nodded. George had whimpered throughout this exchange and now broke into a lusty wail, frustrated and cold. He stopped crying as James took him and began to breastfeed him, here, in his people's sanctuary the only public place he was able to do so. As he did relatives began to filter forwards and greet them all.

"You've both got nerves of steel" Phil said to Mike and James, shaking both of their hands. "I was so choked with tears when we presented James and Alex that the priest had to steady my hand to stop the blade shaking" he admitted. "Fuck, it was a hard thing to do." He shook his head, reliving painful memories.

"Was that Carl I heard crying?" Mike asked presently, changing the subject. Phil nodded. "Yeah, he touched his filaments and nearly peed himself, I think he really didn't realise how painful they'd be."

Phil moved away as one by one the other family members came over to exchange a greeting. When Tom arrived he said, "thanks Mike, I've lost a quid thanks to you." "Eh? Why?" Mike said. "I bet with Alex you'd run as soon as you saw the altar. You've disappointed us both by sticking it out. Congrats, anyway" he grinned suddenly. The temple doors opened and gradually the crowd filtered out, unbuckled swords and began to dress. "It was worse than I imagined it'd be" Mike confessed to James as they went back to their clothes.

"But you got through it with your dignity intact" James replied, "don't knock it, that's quite an achievement for your first attendance." Mike dressed first then prized George off of James' nipple and dressed the protesting child as James found his own clothes.

They went upstairs in the same office block to a room that was set up for parties and gatherings, where a buffet and bar had been prepared. "You took to that like a natural" Andrew said to Mike as the party began to flow. "I remember the first few times I came with Paul to help Jim undress. I couldn't bring myself to go inside at all."

"I don't know how I appeared on the surface but it was all I could do not to take to my feet and run" Mike admitted. "You actually looked really composed except when James raised his sword at the altar" Si observed, coming over from the buffet table. "But we knew that'd completely freak you which is why Phil and Tom were ready to hold you back. You did really well, Mike, it took a lot of courage to stay."

"Thanks" he replied, continuing, "how's Carl by the way?"

"Still in shock" Si replied with a smile. "And probably considering celibacy, he got really freaked out. It didn't help when he asked granddad Tom if gestation hurt as much as the filaments and was told that if anything it was worse. He's feeling really guilty about how he tried to touch James that time and he's said three times already that he's hoping he never meets his life partner. And he didn't know about the sacrificial demands either so that freaked him out too. And then Tom made it worse still when he pointed out that not eleven years ago he was the one lying on the altar with a blade pointing at his heart." "You didn't warn him?" Mike asked, surprised. Si shook his head. "We aren't permitted to talk about it except in the temple building, not to anyone, not for any reason. I wanted to give him a heads up but I couldn't."

"I thought it was just me that James couldn't tell." Mike admitted. "Knowing that Carl didn't know either has made me feel tons better already. Will he get over it do you think?" Mike asked, concerned. Si smiled. "He'll be fine. James came three times as a kid, for each of his brother's presentations. The first time he wailed almost as loud as baby Tom did, shouting the building down that I couldn't kill his brother but he gradually got over it. It's part of who we are, thanks to the gods."

The party continued and guests mingled and chatted with each other over lunch of a very tasty beef stew, sandwiches and other nibbles before they all began to drift away. "Mike, James, you must come and visit us in Amsterdam" Pierre asked as they shook hands. "And Mike I'd love to exchange stories with you" the human man continued, "I'd love to know how you reacted when James first told you about spartans."

"Maybe for a holiday next summer or something?" Mike promised, "I'd love it."

"James, don't be a stranger, come and visit your granddads more often" Jim said as he and Paul left. "I will, I promise" James replied.

Finally with a handful of invites and demands for visits, James said, "we need to leave in a few minutes but if you've got any questions to ask or things to say you need to do so now. You can't ever talk about the sacrificial demands, the sacrifices, outside of this building, not even to me in private." Mike just shrugged, unable to vocalise what he was feeling. "I'm really proud of you, you know" James continued quietly. "I know you don't have the faith but you did so well." Mike shook his head. "Fucking hell, James, I can't deny it, I was terrified. I was that close to doing something we'd probably both have regretted." James shrugged. "Mike, Apollo is a god of war and his worship is a sacrificial one. I guess you realised that when you saw the altar, or at least I hope you did." At Mike's horrified face James continued, "shit Mike, didn't you realise the black stains were blood? It's all animal, bulls mostly, we're not murderers but there is ritual sacrifice. That's why none of us like coming too often. But you don't need to worry any more, you don't need to come back if you're too scared."

"We'll have to come back if we have another son" Mike said softly after a few moments. "If nothing else I can hold George back and stop him making a scene." James smiled. "You're sure about that?" Mike shook his head. "No but you're a true believer, you said as much yourself. And I can't pretend I don't know what's involved, not now. I tell you, though, it helped that Carl didn't know either, it made me realise I wasn't the only shocked one here."

He then remembered something, the conversation they'd had about previous attendance. "I've just realised, when you and Tom freaked out as children, it wasn't the filaments emerging, was it? It was the swords, the sacrifice?"

James nodded. "I'm not going to lie, the filaments fucking hurt and it scares you when you feel them for the first time but no, that wasn't the only thing that made us panic. It's a horrible feeling, watching your dad prepare to murder your baby brother and realising you're powerless to stop him. I remember thinking that if they killed Tom they'd then turn on me, I was so scared Mike, it was awful. And then realising you'd feel the same, I wanted to warn you so badly but I knew I couldn't."

"James, what would have happened if Phil and Tom hadn't grabbed me, if I'd been permitted to run up and get hold of George?" he asked after a moment. "Honey, please, don't make me answer that" James said softly. "You'd have been forced to kill us both wouldn't you?" he asked and with reluctance James nodded. "That happened in 1859. Paul told us the story. It wasn't a human dad, it was a spartan one but he'd never been to the temple since his own presentation and of course he was too small to remember that. Anyway, his partner had answered as I did and raised his sword and the man yelled and ran forward and grabbed the child. The man's partner stepped around and killed them both before committing suicide by falling on his sword. I've pictured that scene a million times, Mike, over the last fortnight. I was that close to calling the whole thing off, wondering if you'd force my hand, it's been awful."

"Why do you take part in the worship at all, then, if it scares you so much?" Mike asked.

"Because Apollo is our god, Mike and he demands both sacrifice and obedience. The Christian god became human, he called himself your servant and sacrificed himself. Human religion is beautiful and wholesome and it feeds the worshipers. Spartan religion is designed to feed Apollo, he's immortal and always will be and we're his servants, not the other way around. It's hard to explain Mike but it's our faith."

They stood in silence, both having a lot to think about. Presently Mike admitted, "it helped that I wasn't the only human in the room and I wasn't the only one who didn't know what to expect," he admitted. "I didn't feel like so much of a fool as I thought I would. And George seems to have recovered remarkably quickly" he continued, looking at the peacefully sleeping baby cradled in James' arms, "I can understand why you bring them as small babies, you couldn't make a toddler go through that."

"I just hope Carl recovers as quickly" James replied, "he was really upset when he left." "I'm sure he will, given time. He's made of tough stuff," Mike smiled as they gathered up their belongings. Just as they were ready to leave, Mike suddenly thought of another question. "James" he said, "you said the worship is sacrificial and the priests mostly kill bulls?" James nodded. "The stew and beef sandwiches and stuff, is that all?" he couldn't finish the sentence and bile rose in his stomach.

James looked at him, wide-eyed, guilt flashing across his face. "Oh shit, I'm sorry honey, I should have made sure you knew before you ate anything" he apologised profusely, verifying what Mike had already figured out. "It's all meat from sacrificial animals, isn't it?" he confirmed and James nodded. "I'm so sorry, Mike, I had so much on my mind but I should have said something before you started eating at least."

Mike took a few deep breaths to get his churning stomach under control. "Don't worry honey" he said, not wanting James to torture himself with guilt over something that had been done already, "I'm fine, I promise. No harm done." And, both a little subdued and with a lot on their minds, they went out to their car to begin their long drive home.

Within a week of the presentation ceremony, Mike had recovered from the shocks and the family had settled back into their routine. In time, baby George grew into a fine little boy. James and Mike, following the pattern of most spartan families, homeschooled him out at the beautiful country cottage they shared, so that he would have sufficient understanding not to blurt out too many details of his family life when he was finally permitted to mix with other children away from his parents watchful eyes. When he was in his fifth year they moved back to Manchester, to a city centre flat for a few months, whilst James bore their second son whom they named David, then moved out to a suburb of Bolton in the north of the city. Three years after that, when Mike was fifty, they went to Buxton for nine months as James became emergent for a final time and carried their youngest son Andrew. After that they returned to yet another Pennine village, to a house of similar character but bigger than their original one, telling the same story about James' wife dying. Andrew was something of a surprise as it was apparently quite rare that spartans produced more than two eggs in a lifetime.

They regularly had family holidays on the continent with James' uncle and his family and Mike got to know his granddad Tom and great-granddad quite well, though the very elderly Carl died when George was only four. Mike enjoyed exchanging stories with Pierre and it turned out that the human man been just as shocked as Mike was when the revelations about the spartan population had been sprung on him.

Mike reduced his hours at work so that he could spend more time with the children and James, after so long out of work, went back to college to update his skills before getting a part-time job with an estate agents as an administrator. They shared the children's lessons and the housework equally and were a perfect match in every possible way. People's attitudes had begun to change and when they moved after Andrew's birth they decided to be a little more open, not quite fully admitting that they were in a sexual relationship but not hiding their affection for each other quite as much as they had in the past.

In the same year that David was born, seventeen-year old Carl, James' youngest brother also found his life partner and became emergent, much to the frustration of Tom and Alex who were still single. Mike took it upon himself to talk to the nineteen year old barman, named Winston, who'd gained Carl's affection and had his world turned upside down in consequence. As well as valuable advice and support Mike also offered the young man a much better paying job in his legal practice so he could support his family properly. For an nineteen year old, Mike realised, he was surprisingly level headed and keen to make the relationship work and seemed to take to the unusual lifestyle with ease.

More difficult was withdrawing Carl from his A-Levels and convincing the impulsive teenager that he had no choice but to stay in hiding for the duration of the gestation, "unless you want to be forced to live in a laboratory for the rest of your life." It also took all of Mike's legal skill and some rather pointed letters to convince the education authorities to leave him alone and not come visiting.

Mike had assumed that Phil would be Carl's birthing coach but to everyone's surprise he asked his oldest brother, James, if he'd do it. "I'd love to" James assured him. He'd already been through it twice himself and reported to Mike afterwards that he'd felt peculiarly honoured to be present. Apparently, Carl had just as vile a temper as James did in labour, swearing and screaming the whole time. But Winston played his part well and the couple had been left in blissful contentment with little baby Simon junior. Due to Winston's ethnicity and the child's mixed-race skin colour, pretending that Carl was the bereaved father wouldn't have been plausible. Instead the story they told was that it was Winston's wife who'd died and Carl was her brother. No one questioned the tale and they were able to live quite comfortably together.

Mike and James took both David and Andrew to be presented. The first time Mike had to cradle a sobbing and terrified five-year old George through most of the rite. He still didn't like it but it felt easier to cope with having to pretend to be brave for the sake of his son. At Andrew's presentation it was a four-year old David who screamed the building down having cut his finger on the sword he'd been given, only a small blade a little more than a long kitchen knife, when he tried to put it back into the leather scabbard. Mike had to hold the child's hand tightly to stop it bleeding as he cradled and rocked him. It was some a few weeks after the third presentation, when they'd returned to their Pennine home and David had forgotten the cut that James admitted something that had been on his mind for some time.

"Hey, Mike, I've been thinking" he began. "What about honey?" Mike asked from the kitchen where he was preparing tea. "You know how granddad Paul's finally retired?" he said. "Yes" Mike answered. "Well I've been thinking about the priesthood and I'm not sure if" he stuttered to a halt. "What's up James?" Mike said softly.

"Mike, I think I'm being called to be a priest" he admitted. Mike sighed and shook his head. "And what will being a priest involve?" he asked.

"I'll have to spend one month a year on duty in London" he said, "but other than that our life is the same."

"That's not what I meant, James. I've only ever been to presentations, I know what the priest does there but what else do the priests do?"

James sighed. "There's prayers every morning" he began. "And?" Mike asked as he served up plates of macaroni cheese and salad for himself, James and the two older boys. "And we tend the fire and keep it lit" he continued. Mike looked at him pointedly and James sighed. "And you already know" he finished, "but if you insist on me confirming it, on nights of the full moon there's sacrifices" James replied.

"You reckon you could cope with that?" Mike asked. James smiled softly. "Mike, I'm being called to serve, coping with it is almost beside the point. It's something I've got to do, I think."

"How do you go about it?" Mike asked as they began to eat. "George, don't flick pasta around the table, you're nine, I thought you'd have more sense and David, poppet, leave Andrew alone, you'll make him cry if you keep poking him" he admonished the squabbling children. They each had James' black hair and typical spartan good looks with Mike's pale skin tone and piercing blue eyes copied exactly onto their perfect faces and both dads doted on them.

"I have to have an interview and I've got to learn the prayers" James said, "then there's an ordination rite but I don't know much about the details yet. I know that my life partner needs to be there but I don't know why yet." He took Andrew into one arm and began to breastfeed him as he held his fork in his other hand and began to pick at his pasta.

"Can you back out or is it all or nothing?" Mike asked. "No, I can back out at any point until the night of the ordination rite itself" James said. "Well why don't you make some phone calls and look into it?" James looked a little sheepish. "I've already been in touch with them, truth be told" he admitted. "And they said I couldn't do any of the preparation unless I had your full support. And they want to meet you before they give me their final permission."

"So I've got to go down to London and meet them?" Mike asked. James shook his head. "No, I need to make a phone call and they'll come up here to meet you and the boys."

It was the following Saturday when a car pulled up and two sober looking men in dark suits came to the house. James greeted them at the door and rather nervously let them in. "Thanks for coming" he said, "this is my partner, Mike Hill" he introduced Mike to the pair, "and our sons, George, who's nine, David, who's four and Andrew, who's five months old" he indicated the children in turn.

"Thank you for inviting us up to your house, James" one of the men said in a softly spoken voice. "You've got a lovely family" he said. "You know why we're here?" he then asked, turning to Mike. Mike nodded. "Yeah, you're here about James' becoming a priest" he replied. The man nodded. "James" he said, "is there somewhere we and Mike can talk privately?"

"Come on boys" James said to the children, "let's go to the park, shall we?" he said brightly. The children were quickly ushered out of the door and the three were left to talk.

"You live together quite openly, don't you?" One of the visitors said with a smile. "Yeah" Mike answered, "though they still think we're cousins and that James is a widower. We couldn't think of any way of avoiding that and still being able to explain why there are three kids here."

"You still home-school them though?" the visitor continued. "We don't really have much choice," Mike admitted, "when James was gestating with Andrew, George wanted to tell everyone that his new brother was growing inside daddy James' jellyfish. We kind of had to keep away from everyone for a bit until he grew out of that particular fixation." The visitors laughed heartily. "Kids, eh?" they smiled.

"Anyway, enough about your family, Mike, do you support James' desire to become a priest?" one asked, sobering up. Mike nodded seriously. "I'm not spartan and I don't know that much about your religion but I know James is a true believer. If it's something he says he feels called to do then I'll support him as much as I'm able" he said.

"Mike, the reason we come and talk to you privately is because there's a big part of the ordination rite that the new priest's life partner does and it's imperative that James doesn't learn of your role until the time comes for you to act. He has to respond by instinct and if he knows what you have to do he'll react differently."

"What do I have to do?" Mike asked. The two men looked at each other. "Mike, what we're about to say is strictly confidential" they began. "You can't talk about it with James until afterwards and you can't discuss it at all with anyone else, ever, except for fully ordained priests and their life partners in strictly private settings. The ordination rite involves the sacrifice of a bull. The animal will be tranquilised out of its mind, it won't feel a thing" they quickly assured Mike, "and James will come in with the priest's twin swords drawn and will slice it's throat and the blood will pump out and cover him. You need to keep your wits, Mike but you need to pretend to suddenly be afraid of James and what he's done. You'll be given a sword and James will believe you have to draw it but you need to unbuckle the belt and drop it and try and run. If James lets you leave the temple then he will have failed his rite and he cannot be a priest but if he restrains you then the rite will continue. Do you understand so far?" Mike nodded. "I don't think I'm going to have to fake fear, I'm a little on the squeamish side" he admitted. They nodded.

"If James touches you, however he does it, you need to restrain your squeamishness, stop running and look at him. The sacrifice of a bull is a messy business and we can guarantee he'll be covered in blood. Look at him and reach your hands out and touch the blood then raise them to his face, grasp him and kiss him. Okay?" "Yeah, I think so" Mike answered. "Do I still have to kiss him if the blood is all over his mouth?" he asked. They nodded. "The idea is that you're demonstrating that you love him more than you fear him." Mike grimaced. "If there's too much blood I might end up throwing up, especially if it gets in my mouth." The men just grinned. "Try not to" they said unhelpfully.

"Once you've kissed him you need to start doing whatever your normal actions are when you're trying to seduce him" they continued. "Don't go for something weird, do stuff James will recognise. You can whisper to him too, sensuous or erotic stuff but at some point you must make him believe that the blood turns you on. If he pushes you away and acts all serious and if he doesn't react at all, then again he will have failed his rite and he cannot be a priest. But if he responds to you the final part of the rite can begin." They looked at Mike who was beginning to feel quite out of his depth.

"Relax, Mike, it's actually quite simple, this bit," he was told. "You need to have sex in the temple. It's a twin sacrifice of sex and blood."

"I can't do that, you're out of your fucking mind" Mike protested, shaking. "Then James will never become a priest" they said bluntly. "In ancient times our faith was an orgiastic one but with the advent of our species and the importance of life partnerships we changed the rites that required sex so that life partners, not prostitutes, were involved. We're quite unable to cheat on our life partners so without their willing help we can't be ordained. Nowadays its only ordination that still includes sex, Mike and this is the only time you'll ever be asked to do this. From our earliest times it was ordination that was the exception to our rule of no humans in the temple and only because of our monogamy and the importance of our life partners. It was actually Paul and Jim who convinced the council to change the rules after Jim was permitted to take such an active role in the ordination but couldn't present his sons to the gods."

They both looked incredibly sympathetic to Mike's dilemma. "Listen, tell James that our request frightened you and you need time to think about it. If you decide you can do it, get him to call us and we'll schedule his ordination for a full moon. You'll have to get babysitters for your kids, no one but you two can come. Let us know what you decide" they finished before letting themselves out and leaving a shell-shocked and sickened Mike sat on the sofa as James and the children returned.

"Are you okay?" James asked him, concerned when he came in with the boys and saw Mike sat there, white faced and obviously afraid.

"No" Mike replied. "I don't want to talk about it" he muttered.

"Then whatever they wanted to discuss with you has shaken you up a bit" James said perceptively. "I said I don't want to talk about it" Mike replied. "Just leave it, James, I need time to think" he pleaded. With a nod and a kiss James left it.

Three weeks later and Mike had done nothing but stew over his role in James' ordination. More than once James had tried to get him to talk about it and Mike had, of course, had to refuse. At work, at home with the family and when they visited James' fathers and brothers it was all Mike could think about. He tried to push it to the back of his mind, convince himself that he was never going to go ahead with it and in time James would forget about the priesthood but truth be told, Mike's resolve was slowly weakening. One evening James had asked him for the dozenth time or more, "honey, what's the problem, you've been worrying about something for weeks, what is it?"

Mike looked at James. "Your ordination rite, sweetheart, the bit I've got to do frightens me and I need time to think about it, that's all" he said carefully, recalling the instructions the visitors from the temple had given him. James looked at him shrewdly. "You're not just frightened are you? I know you better than that and the first time I saw that expression you're wearing now was at George's presentation. You're sick with fear. No" he continued, "don't say anything, I know they'll have sworn you to secrecy about it. Honey, if it's that bad I won't go ahead, I'll pull out, I don't want to hurt you with this."

Mike sighed. "James, love, I was raised a catholic" he began. "I haven't been to church since my mum's funeral when I was twenty two but suddenly I want to go. Just thinking about" he paused, "this makes me want to run to one of my priests, a Christian priest, go to confession, ask to renew my baptismal vows. I feel unclean, somehow. Christ knows how I'll feel if I actually" again he paused, tailing off into silence, unable to meet James' eyes.

"If it's too much, consider it unasked" James said softly. "Forget it, I love you too much to make you so afraid. And if you're feeling like returning to church, well, you've been to my temple, it's only fair that I return the compliment."

"What do you mean, James?" Mike asked. He shrugged. "I mean I'll come to church with you if you want to go" James replied. "As long as they're not going to go all hellfire and damnation at us, I'll come to church with you." He paused and chuckled. "Shit, did I just say that out loud?" he laughed. Mike nodded with a smile. "Did I ever tell you how much I love you?" he whispered, drawing James closer and kissing him first on the lips, then on his neck, then on his ear, making him giggle. "Did I ever reply I love you too?" James whispered back, leaning into Mike's embrace.

They made love in front of the fire, lit to ward off the early spring chill, and were careful and quiet as they didn't want to wake the boys up. Luckily all the children, including baby Andrew, slept peacefully. "I love you so much, you're quite beautiful, you know" James said to Mike. "I'm old and wrinkly and covered in white hair" Mike said with whispered laughter, "however I'd describe myself I don't think beauty covers it, somehow." James pouted. "Don't sell yourself short, I was entranced from the moment I saw you" he said. "That's because of some freaky pre-determination" Mike chuckled. Later they lay in an exhausted embrace, whispering, "I love you, I love you" as the silvery moonlight filled the room.

The week passed pretty much as normal and the family did their shopping on a Saturday morning in the village then took the boys to a local forest park for the afternoon to enjoy the welcome spring sunshine and walk down the nature trails. Carl and Winston joined them with little Simon, their three-year old son and the children had a great time laughing and playing together. Carl and James chased the boys, making them laugh and Mike found himself strolling behind, pushing Andrew's buggy and walking with Winston, Carl's human life partner. Winston had reacted with predictable horror when Simon had been presented at the temple and Mike knew that though the African man doted on his partner and son and loved them dearly he was uncomfortable with and suspicious of their faith. Winston was a strict Christian and went to a Pentecostal church in Manchester and since attending Simon's presentation he had become increasingly interested in his Christian faith and in prayer.

As they walked they spoke about the weather and other inconsequential things then Mike broached the subject of faith. "James wants to be a priest, you know" he said. Winston nodded. "Yeah, Carl told me" he replied. "That whole temple, it's just sick, man. I know it's important to them but it's just insane." Mike snorted softly in a half-laugh as he nodded. "At George's presentation I reacted exactly the same way as you did at Simon's but being a priest is a bit more involved than just the play acting we've seen Carl and James both do" he said, hinting at the ritual that had birth fathers apparently prepare to skewer their sons with razor sharp bronze blades. "Not people, I'd see James arrested first if I thought that he was a killer, no matter how much I love him" he added quickly, "but it's still pretty gross. And as his life partner I've got to be there."

"Fuck, man, you can't do it" Winston said vehemently. "There's only one God, Mike and Jesus will never forgive you if you do this. You can't, Mike, your eternal soul is at stake." Mike just shrugged. "Yeah, I told James I was so scared that I wanted to go back to church and you know what he said? He said if church was that important to me he'd come with me. Winston, he's offering to come to a Christian church, as far as I know, no spartan has ever offered that before. But if he comes then I'm sure he'll expect me to come to the temple with him for his ordination. What do I do?"

The black man shrugged. "There's only one thing you can do, Mike" he said. "Pray."

The following morning the boys woke absurdly early, the sunshine shone through the gaps in the curtains and birdsong carried through the open window. In the distance Mike could hear the parish church's bells ringing for the early service and he stretched and smiled and in the quiet of his mind thought about prayer and faith. James woke beside him and ran his finger gently up Mike's side, tickling him and making him jump. "Is it my turn or yours to get up with them?" he asked. "Yours" Mike smiled, "Andrew will need some milk and he still won't take a bottle."

"Awkward child" James smiled softly. "We'll have to put him straight on a cup, I can't continue to feed him for much longer, people will get suspicious." They lay there together for a few minutes listening to George and David squabbling which rapidly began to overwhelm the peaceful Sunday morning sounds filtering in on the breeze. Mike cleared his throat and James sighed. "I'm going, I'm going" he grumbled, getting out of bed. Mike listened as James went through to the boy's bedrooms. "Can't you lot ever play something quiet?" he heard James ask. "And Andrew, darling, you're soaking, do you need your nappy changing?" he cooed. "George, go get dressed and go downstairs and put the television on" James said. "David, go through to daddy Mike, he'll help you with your teeshirt." Mike heard David whine something unintelligible. "Yes you can go and watch television too but not until you're dressed" James replied to the small child.

David stumbled into the main bedroom. "Daddy Mike I can't get my teeshirt on" he whined. Mike sat up, admitting that though it was nice to lie in bed, getting up with his children was nice too and David looked especially adorable this morning with tousled hair and pouting lips. "Come here, let me help you" Mike said softly, getting out of bed, kneeling down and helping the four-year-old with the teeshirt he'd picked. "Crumbs, you're getting big, this teeshirt's a little small for you now" he said softly. David began to cry, "but I like it" he moaned. "I know poppet, you can keep it on today, okay? Now where are your pants?"

Half an hour later everyone was dressed, downstairs and eating breakfast and James was sat on the sofa with a bowl of cornflakes balanced on one knee and a happily slurping Andrew held on the other knee being fed. David and George were sat watching some inane nonsense on the television and Mike was mixing some porridge. Just then someone knocked on the door and a face appeared at the window and waved.

"Fuck!" James exclaimed loudly, dropping his cornflakes all over floor in an effort to quickly disengage Andrew. "Someone's just seen me feeding!" he hissed to Mike who came through the living room to answer the door. "Daddy James said a naughty word!" David giggled and danced around. "Fuck fuck fuck" he sang gleefully and Andrew, having been cut short half way through his breakfast began to wail in harmony with his brother's swearing.

"David, be quiet, daddy James only said it once, you've said it three times already. James, stop panicking, pull your teeshirt down and go and get a cloth to wipe up your cornflakes, George, sit down and finish your breakfast!" Mike spat a quick volley of instructions. He opened the door and there stood Winston and Carl with little Simon. "You scared the crap out of me!" James said with a huge sigh of relief. "I thought someone had caught me feeding then, bloody hell you gave me a fright!"

"Fuck fuck fuck" David sang to the visitors. "David!" Mike and James yelled in unison. "You're not allowed to say that word!" "But daddy James did" he whined. "He didn't mean to, he was scared" Mike said softly. Carl and Winston came in and Simon and David started playing a game of tag together. "Bro, you want to breast feed you need to do it away from your front window" Carl admonished, shaking his head. "I thought you'd have gotten Andrew on a bottle by now?"

"He won't take one" Mike answered, "don't think we haven't tried."

"Not that it isn't nice to see you but what are you doing here so early on a Sunday?" James asked. "I thought you'd have been going to church, Winston?" he continued.

Winston grinned. "We've found a really friendly church that welcomes gay couples and doesn't ask personal questions" he said, "and Carl and I wondered if you two might like a bit of moral support?"

He looked at Mike and smiled all the wider. "James isn't the only spartan who's volunteered to come to church, Carl and I go together once a fortnight" he explained. "We go every other Sunday together to the church we're going to take you two to, then I go by myself to my parent's church on the alternate weeks."

"You go to church?" James asked his brother, stunned. Carl shrugged and nodded. "It's actually really nice, it's not what I expected. They don't talk about humans and humanity as much as you'd think."

"Why didn't you tell us?" James demanded. "I told Phil and Si. Tom and Alex know too. I just didn't feel I could tell you because you're so set on being an Apolline priest, I thought you'd disapprove. It was only when Mike told Winston you'd volunteered to go to church with him that I realised you'd be okay with it."

"Fuck" James exclaimed again, sitting down, stunned on the settee. "Daddy James just said it again!" David crowed in an exclamation of victory. "Fuck fuck fuck fuck" he sang to the tune of twinkle, twinkle little star. Mike looked from his overwhelmed partner to his gleeful son and couldn't restrain his laughter.

Within the hour cornflakes were cleaned up, babies were fed, David had been silenced and Mike, James and the boys were following Winston and Carl's car back towards Manchester and towards the church and this time it wasn't Mike hyperventilating and getting himself worked up at the thought of a strange religion. He reflected that it was quite pleasant to have the shoe on the other foot for a change. "James, no one will know or care that you're not human and you're not Christian" Mike repeated for the tenth time. "Just do what everyone else does and try and relax for godsake." He grinned. "It's not like there's sacrifice involved" he whispered.

"You're not supposed to talk about that" James reminded him but he calmed down and seemed to be trying to relax. "James, Carl will be there and if it's that bad you can always slink out the back and come and sit in the car. You know" Mike said, "I've just had an incredible déjà-vu moment" he grinned. "Yeah, me too" James laughed. "You can always go outside if it gets too much, I'm sure I've said that to you more than once" he chuckled. Presently Winston led them into the university area of the city, to one of the red-brick university buildings and a lecture theatre that hosted a meeting of the metropolitan community church.

They were met at the doorway by a smart man in a suit. "Carl, Winston!" he gushed in an incredibly camp voice. "Nice to see you two again, how's the family?" he grinned. "Fine" Carl said, "and I've dragged some friends with me, I hope that's okay."

"I'm Julian" the man gushed, "and my word, its good you're here! Come through, come through, you're blocking the doorway. The service is all on the screen" he told Mike and James, "sit where you like, let the kids run around and join in with as much or as little as you like and above all, enjoy!" he finished, ushering the group inside.

The service, though more modern than Mike remembered from his youth, was nevertheless familiar and comforting. The kids loved playing with the others though Mike kept a close eye on David to make sure he didn't blurt out anything that should be kept a secret. As Carl had promised they didn't mention humans very often but rather spoke about all nations' and all peoples', a touch that Mike appreciated for a number of reasons. James frowned a little when a chorus was sung that included the line, "One God, shared our humanity" and stayed firmly in his seat when the bread and wine was distributed but otherwise he seemed surprisingly comfortable. Mike idly noticed that Carl didn't go for bread and wine either, only Winston joining the queue to the altar with Simon in his arms. George and David both clamoured a bit to go with Mike and initially James refused them permission but Mike shrugged and whispered, "James, honey, there's no harm in it. It's just a bit of bread and a sip of grape juice, it won't hurt." James looked at Mike with deep, pain filled eyes. "James?" Mike whispered. "Can they come or not?" With a deep breath that seemed to carry a wealth of things unsaid and things surrendered, James nodded. Mike held his two son's hands and walked with them up to the altar. Only when he turned around to head back to his seat did he realise from the agonised expression he wore just how much it had cost James to watch the children take communion.

Later, after the service, they stopped for coffee and the minister came over to talk to them and introduce herself. "I'm Sarah" she said, shaking Mike's and James' hands. She was a tall, stately woman of African descent and she carried herself with an almost regal bearing that might have been a little overpowering if she wasn't so pleasant and personable. "It's great to see you, it's your first time here, isn't it?" "Yeah, Winston persuaded us" Mike replied, "but it's been nice." She sat down with them at the table and drank her coffee for a few moments in silence. George, David and Simon were running around playing and Andrew was sat on James' knee being a little fretful. Mike knew exactly what was wrong with the baby – he was hungry and couldn't understand why he couldn't be fed. The woman looked at James and the baby with narrowed eyes, then turned and looked at Carl, then at the boys who played together. "Tell me" she said softly, "if I were to mention the words amazon and spartan in the same sentence, how would you react?"

Carl, James, Mike and Winston exchanged long looks, completely unsure how to react but their obviously stunned silence spoke louder than any words may have. George was stood by Mike's chair getting his breath back from running too much and heard the woman's question. He looked at the silent adults and, remembering as always not to use the moniker `dad' in public, he said, "Mike, aren't those words we're not supposed to say when we're with other people?"

Mike let out an explosive breath of air, looked up and said softly, "how did you know, what gave us away?" She grinned. "I'd recognise a breast-fed baby rooting for food anywhere" she whispered, nodding towards Andrew "and as for how I knew, let's just say my girlfriend's pregnancy didn't happen as the result of a sperm donor." With a smile at the stunned silence she spoke in a louder voice, "it was lovely to see you, I hope you're going to come back soon." She drained her coffee cup, stood up and raised her eyebrows. "I'd take your son somewhere private before he makes a scene" she whispered to James before walking casually away.

James was silent for most of the journey home. "What's up honey?" Mike asked him as they arrived home. "I think I misjudged Christianity, Mike" he admitted. "It'll never be my faith but it's not what I thought it would be. I actually felt really welcome and then afterwards, when the minister admitted she was amazon, well, that was just the icing on the cake. But it bothers me a bit that she's so comfortable being involved in leading a human religion when she's patently not human." He sighed. "I don't know what I'm thinking really" he said after a few moments, "what about you? Are you glad we went?"

Mike nodded. "It was nice to be there but nicer because we went as a family, I think. And it made me think that perhaps we might be able to compromise. James" he said seriously, "do you really feel you have to be a priest? Don't answer now but if you know you have no choice, if you have to do it then I'll help you, I'll take part in your ordination." James raised his eyebrows. "Mike" he said, with amazement in his voice, "I thought that if you came back to church you'd never want to come to the temple again. By agreeing to come this morning I thought I was" he stopped and shook his head, "I don't know, I guess I thought I was giving up my faith, surrendering my calling or something. Are you serious, I can still be ordained, you really mean it?" he asked. Tears were beginning to form in his eyes.

"James, I never thought you'd be giving up your beliefs, not for a second" Mike told him. "In fact I honestly thought that if you came here with me you'd have expected me to come with you. You seriously thought I was going to make you give up something that's so much a part of you?" he asked. James nodded and opened and closed his mouth for a moment, then started to laugh. "We make a right pair" he chortled. "I thought I'd be giving up my faith, you thought I'd make a point of foisting it onto you." He continued to laugh as he said, "come on, let's get inside, the boys are hungry, we'll talk more this evening when they're in bed."

That night they sat on the sofa with a glass of wine and reflected on a long and quite amazing day. "What's made you offer to help at my ordination?" James asked casually after they'd been talking for a while. "Why now, Mike? Why suddenly after so many weeks of fear are you happy to help me?"

"You really want to know?" Mike smiled. James nodded. "Yeah, I'm curious what had the power to change your mind" he admitted. "The communion, James, the bread and wine" Mike began, "when you allowed George and David to come with me and receive it and I realised when I looked at your face just how much it cost you. I could see it in your eyes, it was like with a single nod you surrendered everything you hoped and dreamed of. It hurt you so much to allow our sons to come with me but you did it anyway." He smiled. "James, it made me realise that if you could give up so much for me, I could give up a little of myself for you, it wouldn't be the end of the world to compromise a little for the sake of giving you what I know you want so badly."

"Seriously?" James asked with some astonishment. "It was that point that made me almost certain you'd refuse, Mike. It just baffles me you saw it so differently than I did. You know" he continued, "if you want to take the boys again to church you can. I'm not sure I'd come with you every time but maybe once in a while, if being there as a family means so much to you, I reckon I could cope with losing a couple of hours on a Sunday morning for you." He looked serious again. "Would you want the boys christened?" he asked.

"I never thought" Mike said, "you'd allow it?" he stuttered. James nodded. "Why not? They've been presented at the temple, I don't mind if they're christened too." He grinned. "After all, it's not like there's sacrifice involved" he whispered. "You're not supposed to talk about that" Mike said with a hint of suppressed laughter.

"It's set. The full moon, ten days from tomorrow" James said after finishing a very long series of telephone calls. "It's a Friday night so both of us will be off work early enough to drive down there" he continued, "and Si and Phil will come over to babysit. Granddad Paul's letting us stay over that night" he continued, "and we'll drive home on Saturday morning."

Mike jumped so hard it was like he'd been stung and slopped his mug of coffee all over his hands. "Mike? Sweetheart, are you okay? You said I could go ahead and organise it" James said with concern in his voice.

"I know I did but shit, James, that's soon, I didn't expect it to happen so fast. What happened to the interviews and stuff?"

"That's why I was on the phone so long" he explained, "they interviewed me just now. And the other bit is learning the prayers and granddad Paul is putting me a book in the post. Mike, you're still okay to do this, right?" he asked with concern in his voice.

"Yeah, I'm okay" Mike sighed, "just give me a little space, okay? It's still freaking me out a bit if I'm truthful" he replied. "Listen, honey, I'd love to talk about this" he said, looking at the clock, "but if you don't hurry you'll be late for work" he pointed out. "I know you're only on an afternoon shift today but you need to get your arse in gear if you're going to get to the office on time, you were on the phone ages."

"Yeah, yeah" James groaned, "I can see the clock as well as you can" he grinned sarcastically. "I'm going. What are you doing with the kids this afternoon?" he said. Mike smiled. "David's going to do some counting" he said, "and George is on his times tables and then he's going to write a story that he can read a story to his brothers at bedtime" he said. George huffed and turned his back on his dads and continued to eat his lunch whilst watching the television. "If you want to be at the same level as the other kids when you go to secondary school then you need to do this" Mike said. "No messing about, George, we're going to do all the times tables today and your English."

"But don't I get holidays sometimes? I feel like I work, like, forever!" George complained, standing up, apparently unable to let the argument go. Mike grinned. "Yeah, you get holidays" he said. The boys' eyes lit up until Mike continued, "when the schools break up and not before, it's not the end of term yet. A story and times tables, George and you're not overly burdened with lessons so don't give me that look."

James went to work and the children started their lessons as Mike fed a newly-weaned Andrew some pureed vegetables and offered him formula milk from a beaker cup. More food and milk went down the front of the baby than made it into his stomach, Mike was sure but it certainly had good entertainment value and helped George and David not to get too bored whilst they studied. As the afternoon passed Mike began to feel a little off-colour, not too bad, just an ache in his arm and shoulder but it didn't go away, if anything as the day wore on it got worse and worse and spread across his chest. In the end it was so bad that by the time James got home he'd gotten clammy and begun to sweat.

"Mike, what's up?" James asked, concerned, immediately realising as soon as he walked through the door that there was a problem. "I don't know" he confessed, "I'm just in so much pain." James was worried. He gathered a hungry Andrew into his arms and began to feed him by the simple expedient of holding him under one arm and yanking his teeshirt up whilst going into the kitchen to find something to cook for the older boy's teas. "Have you taken anything?" he asked Mike, taking some fish fingers from the freezer and a tin of beans from the cupboard.

"Just some paracetamol but they haven't helped at all," Mike answered. "Have you called a doctor or anything?" James continued and Mike shook his head. "I haven't called anyone, I didn't think" he admitted. James pursed his lips and looked concerned. "I think you need to see someone" he said. Mike went to protest but James silenced him with a stare. "I don't care what you say, I'm calling the doctor" he said.

James was on the phone to the emergency cover for a few minutes, finally getting through to a real person and describing Mike's symptoms. He put the receiver down with shaky hands and said, "Mike, honey, they're sending an ambulance, they think you're having a heart attack."

The paramedics confirmed it. James promised to follow as soon as Si and Phil arrived to look after the boys. George cried as Mike was wheeled out to the ambulance on a chair – he'd tried to stand up and his legs gave way under him. Some hours later Mike found himself in Wythenshawe Hospital hooked up to monitors and a drip and a very concerned James at his bedside. He left at the end of visiting hours to go home to the children, leaving a morphine-filled Mike to while away the hours and reflect on the cruelty of a life that seemed to go wrong just as everything was becoming so right.

He was out of hospital in a week with strict instructions about diet and taking things easy. His employer had sorted out sick leave and James had been forced to take a leave of absence from his job to become a full time carer again, this time for his partner as well as his children. Mike found his right arm ached whenever he did too much, which seemed to begin with to be everything. The stress of having Mike in hospital had made David regress slightly and he had begun wetting the bed and James hadn't had the patience to continue to teach Andrew how to drink from a cup so the baby had returned to almost complete reliance on breast milk. George played up and became quite naughty and Mike found he could do very little to help James out, having to sit and watch whilst his lover ran himself ragged.

They existed in this autopilot mode of pure survival for the whole of the summer, James' ordination cancelled, school lessons thankfully on hold because of the holidays, the family seemingly fighting for survival. But Mike gradually became stronger again, even if he felt like he'd aged ten years or more. As September rolled in George turned ten, the children's lessons were restarted, Andrew went back on a cup, James went back to work and Mike began doing some simple things for his employer, such as reviewing cases, writing letters and so on from home.

One evening when the children were in bed and Mike and James were sat eating supper, Mike asked, "has your ordination been rescheduled?" James shook his head. "I haven't been able to think about it, sweetheart, it's been so busy, so stressful. And you're supposed to be taking it easy and you still can't drive, I don't think it'd be a good idea."

James tried to smile but Mike wasn't fooled. He wore his disappointment and grief plainly written over his face. "Honey" he began, "here me out here, I've got something I need to say. Spartans mate once only and for life, don't they?" he began and James nodded. "And let's not lie, I've had one heart attack, I'm overweight and my blood pressures' through the roof. So if I die you'll never have a partner to go through the ordination rite with you, will you?" With a sudden flash of pain across his face James said, "no, I won't."

"So I think" Mike said, "no, I insist, that you organise the rite as soon as you possibly can. Let me do this for you whilst I still can." He met James' eyes and a wealth of emotion, of things unsaid, passed between them. "Please?" he asked softly. James choked back his tears. "You've got loads of time yet, Mike, years and years" he said. Mike shook his head. "You were there when the doctor told me how high my risk level was. I'm on my way out, let's not lie about it, please."

He sighed and smiled shakily. "James, can I thank you? When we met I was growing old alone and lonely but you've given me a family and more love than I thought was possible. I've got three lovely children and life doesn't get better than this. It doesn't scare me as much as I thought it would but I don't want to pretend the risk isn't real. James, please, for me, let me be realistic about this. Every day could be my last, don't spoil it, please?"

James couldn't immediately speak for crying, silent sobs of tears that wracked his body. "Mike, I'm not even forty, I've got sixty years in front of me, damn it and Andrew hasn't seen his first birthday! Damnit, Mike, you can't leave me alone yet, you can't!" he hissed between his tears.

"Honey" Mike said, "Shh, don't cry, please. You knew this would happen sooner or later. It's not like I've got a choice, now, is it? I might be okay for a while but the doctors said my heart's been severely damaged. I'm on borrowed time and you know it. Can you let me do this my own way? Please?"

After a few deep breaths James nodded. "What do you want me to do?" he whispered. "Call the temple, schedule your ordination" Mike asked. "I want to give you a chance to do this. And I know it's autumn but we've missed the holidays, I'd like to go away with you and the boys somewhere, not too far, just to the seaside?" He began to choke on his tears. "I've arranged an appointment with one of my colleagues at the office, I'm going to update my will. I want to sign the house over to you in the next couple of weeks, I know you'll have to pay tax on it but it'll be better than losing it. And I'm going to do some letters for the boys, for when they're older." He was crying openly now, then gasped. "Oh god" he hissed, gritting his teeth and pain flashing across his face.

"What, honey, shit, what is it?" James asked, turning white. Mike fished in his pocket for an inhaler. "Just a touch of angina, that's all" he said shortly, "don't panic, I'm fine, I'm fine" he answered shortly. James leaned towards him and embraced him tightly. Mike could feel him shaking though he cried completely silently. "I'm fine, I'm fine" he whispered again.

Eleven days later saw Phil come to babysit the children and Simon drive James and Mike to London. Mike had been surprisingly efficient in organising the legal paperwork and despite his grief James had to admit that it was sensible to get things organised. But on this particular morning he was nervous. "Have you memorised your words?" Si asked him. James nodded. "I have but it's not like I'll have much to actually say tonight" he replied wryly. Si shook his head. "I can't believe you're actually going through with this" he said, "I really don't want to know the details" he shuddered. Mike chuckled. "Si, you're so lucky you're sitting this one out, that's all I can say."

They arrived at Si's father's house at around supper time. Jim had long since passed away but Paul was still relatively fit and healthy, quite spry for a man past his hundredth birthday, so healthy in fact that he almost looked and certainly acted younger than Mike did. Seeing him made the reality of their situation all the more poignant for Mike and James but they couldn't dwell on their age and health this evening; they had other, far more important things on their mind. As soon as they'd said their hello's a taxi was called to take James up to the temple where he could prepare – Paul would bring Mike later in the evening and Si was sitting in with a few beers and some DVD's. "See you later" James said with a deep breath, kissing Mike as he left.

"You know what you've got to do?" Paul asked Mike once James was safely away. Mike nodded. "But I can't talk about it in front of Si, can I?" he said. Paul shook his head and made to reply but Simon interrupted, "even if you could, Mike, I really don't want to know. Shit, it freaks me out."

"But Apollo's your god, Simon" Mike heard himself say. "Why does he scare you so much?"

Si opened his mouth to reply and then stopped. "I was going to say I'm not scared of Apollo but I guess I am" he admitted. "I guess the sort of worship a god demands determines the sort of god they are. He's kind in his own way but he's a god of war. I know there's going to be a sacrifice tonight but I really don't want to think about it." He suddenly looked at Mike, swallowed and seemed to convulse. "It's not, you're not" he stuttered, going white.

Paul laughed. "I'm not a killer, Simon and my grandson won't be either," he said, "and you'll see Mike at breakfast, I promise. Did you honestly believe for a second that we'd condone human sacrifice?" Si shook his head. "No, I didn't, not really but it crossed my mind. I should have known better, Jim took part in your ordination, didn't he dad?"

Paul nodded. "Jim did for me what Mike's been asked to do for James. Anyway, we've got a couple of hours before we need to leave, Mike, do you want any supper?" Mike shook his head. "I really don't think I could eat" he admitted. "Shit, I'm scared."

"It'll be over soon" Paul reassured him. "Give it, what, four hours and it'll all be over and you and James will be on your way back here, with me, together. No matter what, okay? I promise."

The time passed in a speeding blur and it felt barely five minutes had passed before Mike found himself stood with Paul at the back door of the temple building. It was very dark and Paul had a torch with him to find the keyhole of the side entrance, a rusty security door that purposely was kept looking as if it had never been used in years. He was ushered inside, asked to strip and given one of the leather scabbards and bronze blades that he'd been denied at his sons' presentations, strapped firmly around his waist. He was shown how it unbuckled and had a practise go. "Do I need to know how to draw it?" he asked. Paul shook his head. "You're not going to, remember? Shit, Mike, you do remember what you have to do?" he said, worried.

Mike nodded. "I watch the sacrifice, pretend to be scared, unbuckle the sword, throw it on the floor and run" he began. "If James stops me or touches me I turn back, touch the blood then kiss him. If I can turn him on then we have sex. If he doesn't manage any part then the whole thing is over." Paul smiled calmly. "Yeah, that's right, except that if you manage to turn him on then you and he have to have sex either on or in front of the altar, don't forget that bit" he reminded Mike. "Yeah, I remember" Mike said. "How long have I got?" he asked.

"We should get inside now" Paul said, "it's almost ten to midnight and you need to be there before James comes in" he explained. He too had stripped and wore the priest's twin swords in their crossed scabbards. "Come on, Mike, it's this way" he said, leading him through the shadowy, dimly lit temple complex.

They entered the main temple space by a side door Mike hadn't noticed before. The fire pit had the same glowing coals in it that Mike had seen before but the altar seemed completely different and Mike almost ran there and then. Three attendants were clustered around a prosaic-looking pallet truck, of the sort used to manoeuvre goods around a warehouse. Draped over the prongs of the truck was the biggest animal Mike had ever seen. It was a bull with long horns and shaggy red hair and was obviously heavily sedated for it lay quite still even though it still snorted and breathed deeply. The three men were dragging the truck as close to the altar as they could and shifting the huge weight of the animal from the forks to the floor with its head and neck lying over the edge of the altar. "You should have the beast in place already" Paul admonished, "what's the problem?"

"The truck from the abattoir was late" one explained, "it only arrived half an hour ago."

"Never mind, it looks okay" Paul said, "just help me drag its head a little higher, that's right" he continued, "right, what's the time now?"

"About four minutes to midnight" one said. "Right, go out to the gong and watch the clock" Paul instructed, "you two, you need to leave and wait in the back and Mike" he finished, "come and stand up here." Mike did as he was bid, the leather scabbard slapping against his leg uncomfortably as he walked. He was guided to a spot just to one side of the bull, making it a considerable way to run away from James and the altar and back to the main door. He tried to control his shaking but couldn't. Paul stood to the other side and just as Mike was going to ask something the gong rang. All thought left his mind as James stepped in from a dark doorway, wearing nothing but two swords carried on each hip and the leather harness which supported the scabbards slung around his waist and over both shoulders.

His face was blank and he closed his eyes briefly as he saw Mike and the animal but opened them after a second and began to walk forwards, calm and unafraid. With a swift movement that spoke of practise James unsheathed the two swords and sliced one rapidly across the animal's throat even as he plunged the second downwards towards the beast's heart. As Mike had been promised James was suddenly covered in blood, a huge red waterfall hitting him squarely in the chest and bathing him in the deep red liquid, almost black in the firelight.

Mike stood and stared, awe struck for a moment before remembering what he had to do. "Shit, no" he said loudly, perhaps a little too loud but in the anxiety of the moment a little awkwardness went unnoticed. He started walking backwards, all the time staring at James. "Jesus Christ, no" he hissed, continuing to move away. "James, I'm sorry, I can't, shit, I can't do this" he said, his hands going to the buckle on his belt. "I'm sorry" he said, undoing the leather strap and letting the sword and scabbard fall.

The pommel hit the marble floor with a clang as James said, "Mike, don't!" and he dropped his own swords and ran towards Mike who turned and took to his heels. Before he could reach the back doors, before he'd even passed the fire pit he felt a moist hand on his shoulder. He froze and turned around, this time not needing to fake fear – he knew James had passed the first test and the bit he dreaded, the sex, was suddenly closer. James stood behind him, illuminated by the firelight, the deep maroon blood glistening and glinting as the orange flames danced. "Mike, please" he gasped out before suddenly seeming to remember he had something to say, a line out of place that didn't make sense when he'd been taught it. "Apollo demands sacrifice and his demands have been met tonight under the moon" he whispered. He held one hand out and Mike knew this was his queue to begin the second part of his role.

He put his hands up against James' face. There was no need to rub his hands in the blood anywhere else, James' face was covered in it. Cradling the crimson cheeks in his hands Mike pulled him closer and kissed him. The blood didn't feel or taste as Mike imagined it would, it was warm and coppery and salty and suddenly he didn't have to fake arousal. As they continued to kiss, he stepped into a close embrace and ran his hands across James' face and through his hair, smothering it and himself with the blood as he did so. He continued to pull his hands down James' back. "Did I ever tell you I love you?" he whispered with a grin as they broke for air.

James looked a little shell shocked. "You serious?" he asked. "Kiss me" Mike whispered. "I want to feel you, James, please?"

"Mike, stop it, this is serious and my granddad is standing right over there" James hissed back.

"Come on, honey, please?" Mike tried again. "No" James replied, pulling away, "come on, Mike, stop it." He turned and just as he was about to go back to the altar, the flames from the coals jumped and rose perhaps ten feet in the air, making Mike yelp and jump away from their fierce heat. James, however, didn't look perturbed. If anything he looked victorious, contented, well fed. He turned back and faced Mike and grinned a wild, feral grin. "He's not going to become aroused, you know" he said in a deep voice, very different to his own.

"James?" Mike asked.

"If you wish" James shrugged. "He's not going to become aroused so he can't be my priest, not yet anyway" James spoke about himself in the third person again, "but you Michael, you I do want".

"James, what's going on?" Paul came over to the blazing fire. James looked at his grandfather. "James will be back in a minute, priest of mine" the peculiarly deep voice spoke again, "now on your knees before your god" he demanded.

Paul went white and started to shake. He knelt and bowed his forehead low to the floor, so low it touched the marble. James turned back to Mike. "You please me, Michael son of Jehovah," he said strangely, "and I want to ask you something. If you could ask for one thing from the gods, what would it be? Either from your Jehovah or Christ or the gods of Greece and Sparta, what one thing would you ask?"

Mike didn't hesitate. Since his heart attack, since his awareness of James' impending grief there was only one thing that had filled his thoughts. "I'd want you to be happy, I wouldn't want you to have to spend the rest of your life alone" he said.

James frowned. "You mean the soul whose body I've occupied, your lover, James Philipson, don't you?" he asked, again talking about himself in the third person. "You want him to be happy. How generous of you. Love is a wonderful thing, is it not? I shall grant your request, Michael, henceforth to be known as Apolloson. Now kiss me."

Mike looked at James. His own reluctance to acknowledge that Apollo even existed outside the spartan's imagination prevented him from admitting to himself what was going on but when gazing into James' familiar brown eyes nothing mattered, all he saw was the man he loved. He stepped forward, embraced him and kissed him passionately and even as he did so he felt a crushing pain in his chest and everything went black.

"Mike, Mike?"

"Come on Mike, open your eyes"

"Honey, please, don't do this, not now, please"

Mike heard disjointed voices, some he recognised, some he didn't. He knew he'd lost consciousness but couldn't immediately recall what had happened or why. He tried to open his eyes and move but still couldn't control his muscles.

"Fucking hell, what's that?"

"Am I seeing things?"

"Oh, Hera have mercy!"

"Mike, wake up!"

"Mike!"

He tried to move again but suddenly James was beside him, crouched down, his face a hair's breadth away. Mike knew it was James without sight or touch. He'd be able to find him in the dark at the bottom of a coal mine, there was something about the fragrance of his skin, the feel of his breath, the beat of his heart that sang to him. He felt James grasp his face and begin to kiss him passionately and couldn't help but respond, previously inert muscles moving, fired by the same fierce, joyous passion. Finally he opened his eyes and looked into James' own. "Honey?" he whispered, "what's happened?"

James grinned, overflowing with happiness so spontaneous it filled Mike's whole soul. "This happened, Mike" he said and he ran his hand down Mike's stomach. Suddenly a hot lance of pain shot through Mike's navel and he gasped. "What the fuck?" he asked, getting his breath back as the pain stopped and James lifted his hands away.

"It was Apollo himself possessing me" James said softly. "And he's granted your wish in the only way he was able. I'm not going to be alone anymore, honey, you've got a long, beautiful life ahead of you."

"I don't understand" Mike confessed.

"Mike" Paul then spoke, knelt at the couple's side. "What James just touched that hurt you so much were filaments. Our god and yours has made you spartan. You're one of us."

Mike couldn't take it in. "What?" he asked. His body still didn't feel like his own and he felt an overwhelming fascination with James, his face, his body, his beauty. "Mike, he's changed you. Like he did to our ancestors so long ago, he's changed you. And we can have a fourth child if you'd like" he grinned.

"What, you mean, me, spartan, what the fuck?" Mike stuttered, confused and overwhelmed. James looked at him softly. "Did I ever tell you that I love you?" he whispered with tears standing in his eyes. Finally, with something he could understand and absorb Mike replied, "did I ever tell you that I love you too?"

It was the early hours of the morning but London never really slept. Mike and James had both wiped the worst of the blood away and gotten dressed and were sat in the back of Paul's car embracing as the old man drove home. It felt to Mike like he'd awoken and noticed James' beauty for the first time, there was something entrancing about him, his scent or warmth perhaps and he couldn't bear to be out of touching distance. They stayed low in the back seat, hiding blood splatters from the headlights of passing cars as Mike caressed his lover's face and held his hands with wide-eyed wonder.

Presently they pulled up at Paul's house. "Come on" he whispered in the soft voice that men who are awake in the early hours of the morning habitually use, "let's go inside, I think Simon will probably still be up." James slid out of the door on his side of the car, leaving Mike with a peculiar pain as he suddenly was out of touching distance, a pain that seemed to obscure the lightning bolt of agony that ran through his stomach when the seatbelt ran against the white feathery ends of the filaments that had grown from his belly button.

Then before the pain became too much James was at his side again. "Mike, calm down, I'm here" he whispered. "I can't imagine what you're going through, what you must be thinking" he said. "I just want to touch you" Mike replied in the same hushed whisper, "It's like I've never felt you before, never seen you before, never really known what it is to love you before," he admitted.

They went inside the house and Simon was there, bleary-eyed and dishevelled from dozing on the sofa. "I couldn't sleep, I wanted to wait for you" he began, then he looked at Mike properly. "Fucking hell, what's happened?" he said in astonishment. With a glance to his son and an imperceptible nod giving permission Simon stood, reached his hands out and ran gentle fingers over Mike's jaw. "It's like a perfect face lift" he whispered, "just a little but" he paused as James, with soft probing fingers undid Mike's shirt.

Simon was speechless and stared in wonder. He looked at James with a million questions hovering on his tongue. James answered with a tearful smile, "Apollo came, Si. I heard him speak through the flames and he asked if he could possess me and I said yes. He asked Mike what he would want if he could be given anything and you know what Mike said? He asked if I could be happy. Si, out of all the things he could have asked for and Mike wished for my happiness" he smiled, bleary-eyed with lack of sleep and too many tears. "And Apollo answered the prayer. He gave me my Mike back."

Mike lifted his index finger and slowly, gently, wiped the track of James' tears down his cheek. "I didn't expect this" he said, "never in a million years did I expect this. What I wanted was for you to be able to get over your grief after I'd gone, perhaps meet someone else. I wanted him to change the `single partner' rule for you, that's what I thought he'd do, give you someone new to spend your life with, someone who could enjoy it with you."

"But Mike, that's just what he's done" Si said. "You haven't looked in a mirror, have you? Apollo's made you new and granted your request in the only way he could."

"Michael, you're spartan now, not human. You've got our health and longevity" Paul said with a soft smile. "And our partner bond too, I think that's probably what's overwhelming you at the moment. Just think of how you feel for James" he said. "Mike, James has felt that for you since the moment you met. That's what our partner bond is like, that's why, when we find our life partner we never go to anyone else ever again. There's no way Apollo would be so cruel as to take it away from James, you've been his reason for living for all these years and that time couldn't ever be erased. So the only way he could grant your request and allow James to be happy in his life was to make you able to share his life, all of it. Mike, you're going to live as long as James does, that's what James has been given, what you've been given."

Mike looked at James, still overwhelmed and awe-struck. "I don't know what to say, I can't think beyond you" he said softly. "I want to hold you and touch you, I don't want to move away from you. The rest may be true but I can't think beyond you, James." He suddenly smiled, a very ordinary grin, one James knew well, a grin that was one hundred percent Mike. "Did I ever tell you how very much I love you?" he chuckled.

"Did I ever tell you how very much I love you too?" James laughed back.

"Come on then, love birds, you two need showers before you're using my bed linen" Paul laughed. "Do you want to use the ordinary bathroom upstairs or the wet room down here?" he continued, "you'd have to go in the bathroom one at a time but you can use the wet room together" he grinned suggestively. Mike and James looked at each other with a spark in their eyes. "The wet room" they said together and Si laughed. "Did you really have to ask, dad?" he chortled. "I'm glad you're both okay, anyway, I'm too tired to stay up for much longer, I'll talk to you in the morning" he said, "night guys."

"Night, Si" James and Mike replied. "And I'm going to bed too" Paul said, "don't make too much noise, will you?" and with a sparkle in his eyes and a spring in his step he left Mike and James alone.

They went to the wet room, armed with a load of towels which they placed on the rack near the door. The shower had several jets and presently both were stood under the steaming hot water as the bull's blood was slowly washed away. Both were encrusted with the dry, sticky residue, James from the sacrifice, Mike from later embracing James and becoming smothered in it himself. "It's in my hair too" James complained. Mike took the bottle of shampoo out of James' hands, poured a little into his palms and reached up and began to massage James' scalp. "How's that, honey?" he whispered as James reached up and his own hands covered Mike's.

James didn't answer in words but lifted Mike's soap covered hands down so that they looped his neck, leaned in under the hot spray and kissed him long and hard. They grabbed shower gel and began to soap each other, lathering the parts each could reach as they embraced. Presently James leaned back slightly. "There's something different" he smiled, "not bad, honey" he gave a quick reassurance, "just different. You feel firmer under my hands" he whispered as he rubbed Mike's arms, "and your lips are a little fuller and you're a little touch taller, I think. And" he paused, his hands beginning to caress Mike's swelling organ, "oh my, there's something different alright, have you seen this big boy" he said with a twinkle in his eye and a grin on his lips, realising that Mike's erection was a full three inches longer than it had been previously.

Mike gasped. "Wow, that's new" he grinned, "but I'm still me" he continued, "aren't I?" he asked for reassurance.

"Of course you're you!" James smiled. "You're just a little fitter, a little more youthful, I'd say, or a little more spartan and less human, perhaps." Mike indicated the barely visible filaments. "I'd say that says I'm spartan" he replied softly, the first time he'd spoken out loud what he had been told. "You're body's changing too, honey" James said, "not so much as anyone who doesn't know you well would notice, I don't think but you're changing. That's what being spartan means, Apollo's given you our physique or the nearest approximation he can." He began moving his soapy hands again, "but you're still covered in blood" he said, "let me get that for you."

They washed and later made love, finally falling asleep on towards dawn snuggled together in bed wrapped in each other's arms. It was almost lunchtime when they woke to Simon banging on their bedroom door. "If you two are able to take your eyes off each other long enough to get dressed" he said through the closed door, "we'll get off back home to your boys. You remember you've got three sons being looked after by granddad Phil, I hope?" he finished with a sarcastic edge to his humour.

"We're coming" James shouted back.

"That's what I was afraid of" Simon quipped.

It didn't take as long as Simon feared for Mike and James to dress, say goodbye to Paul and get into the car and onto the motorway heading north. Now with the partner bond becoming a little less all-consuming and the heights of arousal having been very successfully scaled the previous night, Mike found suddenly that the filaments were sore enough to cause a great deal of discomfort on the journey home and he wriggled in his seat, wincing, for most of the way.

It was supper time by the time they pulled up outside their cottage and Phil was cradling Andrew and watching at the window with obvious concern. "I was expecting you about three hours ago" he began as they came inside but then stopped and stared at Mike's subtly altered appearance and the not so subtle open shirt and low slung trousers that displayed the newest part of his anatomy visibly to anyone who knew what they were looking at.

"What the" he began.

"Don't swear dad, remember David'll copy you" James interrupted quickly as the small boy ran over. "Daddy James, daddy Mike, you're back!" he giggled as James swept him up into a twizzer, spinning him around by his armpits as he squealed in delight. "Where's George?" Mike asked as he carefully took Andrew out of Phil's arms.

"I'm here" a voice piped up, "I made you some supper all by myself" George announced proudly, "I got it out of the fridge when Phil said you'd arrived" he explained, carrying a dish in and putting it on the coffee table. "Eton mess" Phil said, "and he made the meringue by himself and everything." He grinned a little apologetically, "I had to suggest something to distract him or he would have been on the telephone by nine o'clock this morning. Anyway" he continued, shaking his head, "what on earth has happened? Mike, am I seeing things or is there something about your mother you never told us?" he joked.

"Dad, Apollo came during my ordination rite" James said. "I'm not ordained, by the way but he came and possessed me and basically he changed Mike, made him spartan" he explained, "just like he did our ancestors, one minute Mike was human, the next" he stopped talking and indicated with is hand in a half-hearted wave, "well, you can see what came next. Look, I guess you're tired and Si knows the whole story anyway. Why don't we relieve you and look after these little monsters and you two can get home?"

"You sure?" he asked, clearly anxious to know more. "Phil, we're not going to get them into bed while you're here, they'll be too excited" Mike said. "How about we get together this weekend? Si can explain it all to you and we'll talk more then?"

Phil and Si both nodded. "But if I may give you a little advice before we leave?" Si asked. "Mike, you need to stoop or something and wrap up and wear a cap or something when you go out or else you're going to have the whole world asking for the name of your surgeon" he grinned. James frowned. "Will it be that obvious, do you think?" he asked. Si and Phil both nodded. "It's subtle but I reckon most people who know you in any way at all will know something's different about you" Phil said. He shook his head. "You'll have to be careful to begin with, let people get used to the changes a bit at a time" he suggested.

They said goodnight and Si and Phil drove off. Mike could tell Phil was asking twenty questions already and Simon was gesticulating animatedly from the passenger seat. "Come on" Mike said to David and George who had joined their fathers at the garden gate, "inside, bedtime" he told them.

"But I want to try the mess" David whined. "Come on!" James laughed, "let's go get some supper, it looks good Georgie-boy!" They went inside and George served up bowls of the berry-meringue-sweetened cream mixture, which actually tasted really nice. Andrew sucked on a bit of meringue and seemed to love the crystallised sugar, so much so that he lunged for Mike's bowl and put his hand in the mixture and laughed delightedly as he pulled out big sticky globs of fruit and cream. "Messy creature" Mike chided him with a smile.

"Dad Mike you look different" George said in between mouthfuls. "Good-different, dad but different" he continued. Mike looked at James with amusement. "No one will notice, eh? I somehow think I'm going to have a few problems" he observed, then turned to his eldest son and said, "George, sweetheart, something happened to me last night that made me a bit more like James and your granddads and you. It's nothing to worry about sweetheart, I just needed to get better and I was changed a little bit in the process. Okay?"

"Okay" George replied placidly, going back to his desert and helping himself to large spoonfuls of it. "Come on you lot" James said, sweeping a very sticky Andrew up into a hug and giving the toddler a kiss, "bath time and bed time, I think" he said, "you too, George, you can have a bath too, you don't need to go to sleep straight away but you need to get clean!" He smiled tolerantly at the grubby boy. "I hope you didn't put those dirty fingers in the desert?" he asked with raised eyebrows. George frowned and shook his head, "no, dad James, I didn't. Granddad Phil made me use a nailbrush and everything before he even let me in the kitchen" he complained. "You mean this is just half a day's muck?" James laughed, "I dread to think how black your hands would have been if you hadn't been cooking today" he said.

George stood up from the table, James followed him with Andrew and Mike chivvied a contented and sleepy David up the stairs. "I'll just clear the table and I'll be up to read you a bedtime story" he called. George turned around. "I'm glad you've changed, dad Mike" he said, "you don't look as old as you did" he continued innocently. "It's good" he finished before climbing the stairs. James, behind the boys, shared a quick glance with Mike before following them into the bathroom.

Half an hour, a bottle of bubble bath and a very wet bathroom later three marginally cleaner children were helped into pyjamas. Andrew was put into his cot and David into his bed. George was allowed to stay awake a little later, reading in bed with his bedside light on. "Turn it off in half an hour" Mike told him before kissing all the boys soundly and hugging them before whispering, "night night, sleep tight" to them and pulling the bedroom doors shut so that they were almost but not quite, closed.

James and Mike settled on the sofa, secure and relaxed in their own house once more. Mike wriggled and stretched to get comfortable. "You okay?" James asked, coming in with two glasses of wine. "Nah, they hurt" Mike said, loosening his shirt and manoeuvring the waistband of his trousers. James shook his head. "Shit, Mike you know, I almost forgot about them" he laughed. "I couldn't forget" Mike mock-growled. "Can I have that wine or is it just for decoration?" he asked, holding his hand out for a glass.

James shook his head. "That depends" he said. "On what?" Mike replied. James raised his eyebrows. "On whether you're going to do anything with those" he said, pointing at the white feathery filaments, "or if you're going to let them separate and fall out."

Mike sat, stunned, for a moment. "It never occurred to me" he admitted. "Shit, this means we could have another son" he whispered. "Shit, I don't know if I could do it" he admitted, "I don't have your patience, honey" he admitted, "and this is all so new. I don't have to decide now, do I?" he finished. James shook his head. "No, you'll probably have a week or so like the rest of us get" he said, "but I tell you something, if you do go ahead with this, I promise I'll do everything you need. You've been so good with me and the boys. It just seems right that I get to return the favour" he observed.

"That isn't a good enough reason to have a fourth child" Mike pointed out. "If we go ahead Andrew will be what, twenty months old when his new brother will be born? Can we cope with so close a gap? I don't know how easy it'd be to look after two toddlers. Not to mention there's this whole change of appearance and the fact that I'm suddenly fit as a fiddle and without any heart problems and of course we'll need to move again" he continued, "there's a whole load of stuff to consider first."

"But it's all related" James argued, "your appearance, no matter whether or not you chose to gestate a child. Just by what Phil, Si and George have said about you, you know you'll have loads of problems if you go back to work anyway and probably similar ones if you go to your doctors. It's not like you can go to go back to see any of them so gestating won't cause any more problems than you've already got. And you know we'd cope with four children, George is older and more sensible and David's getting that way and by the time you go into labour George will be more than able to help us out or he could even start school. Besides which, I'd love to see a birth certificate with the surname Michaelson on it" he admitted with a grin.

"I'm not sure" Mike admitted, "but I tell you what, just in case, you can put that wine back in the bottle" he smiled. James' expression fell into a soft smile. "Just in case" he repeated.

The family fell back into a routine over the following week of childcare and schoolwork. Mike was ostensibly still off sick after his heart attack but James returned to his employer. By Friday night, though, Mike was thoroughly uncomfortable and unable to hold Andrew any way except high over his shoulder, the filaments had stretched and hurt that much. He was still none the wiser about what to do with the dilemma they'd presented. The thought of a fourth son appealed but the knowledge he'd have to bare and gestate the child himself held him back. That evening after the children were in bed James reminded Mike of the rapidly approaching ultimatum. "Mike" he said after looking at the filaments, "if we're going to do this it needs to be tonight, they're just beginning to separate and probably by tomorrow or Sunday your chance will have passed. Sweetheart, would you like a fourth child?" he asked.

Almost despite himself Mike nodded. "Would you, James?" he replied quietly. "I would, I really would" James smiled "but I can see you're still so worried about something. What is it, Mike? What's bothering you?"

Mike snorted a half-laugh. "I'm a bloke, I was an ordinary human bloke with a mum and a dad and babies were something women did and suddenly I'm being asked if I want to get pregnant! I know spartans don't use that word" he continued, seeing James open his mouth to protest, "but honestly, pregnancy, gestation, child bearing, they all mean the same thing really. I lived my life in one way with one set of certainties for over forty years until you sprung the truth about your species onto me but even that wasn't that difficult to cope with, not really, `cos it was you and not me carrying the child. But now the tables are turned. James honey, I can't get my head around it." He shrugged apologetically.

"But you do want a fourth child?" James said. "If it was me that was emergent, not you, would you hold back or would you fertilise me?" he asked. Mike sighed. "I wouldn't hold back, James" he admitted. James leaned in and kissed him softly. "Forget your fears, I'll help you, I promise" he whispered before taking Mike by the hand and leading him to their bedroom.

The following day was a Saturday and James and Mike had invited Phil and Si around for a barbeque. "Should we invite my brothers too?" James idly wondered over breakfast. "I'm not sure" Mike immediately replied, "I'd like to see your brothers but I don't know what Winston will think and Tom's partner is only, what, a month into the whole secret species thing, I don't think it'd be right."

"You're just embarrassed" James grinned, pointing at the small white ball nestled snugly on the top of Mike's navel.

Mike sighed and shook his head. "No I'm not" he denied.

"Yes you are" James told him, "you've suddenly realised how much you've changed and you can't hide from who you are anymore. You've got a right to be embarrassed." There was a sudden yell from the sitting room where the two older boys had been sat on the carpet eating their cereals whilst watching television and David started to cry. Mike went into them. "George, what have you done?" he asked in a weary voice.

"Nothing, dad Mike, it wasn't me!" he protested. James heard Mike's voice drift back into the kitchen. "So David put crayons in his rice crispies by himself? Honestly George, you should have more sense, you're ten! Come on, the pair of you, you can sit at the table with me and James to eat, David I'll get you another bowlful right now, stop crying."

They trooped back into the kitchen and the boys sullenly sat down. Andrew was in his highchair playing with milk and weetabix and contentedly making a thorough mess. Mike got David some more cereals and George quietly ate the remainder of his breakfast. Shortly he looked at Mike again. "Dad Mike, what's that?" he asked, pointing at the white ball.

Mike opened his mouth to speak and closed it again, unsure how to answer. James came to his rescue, "daddy Mike's carrying a new baby brother for you" he said. George frowned and thought for a moment. "But I thought dad Mike was human and human men couldn't gestate like we do" he said to James. "He was human, honey but Apollo changed him, that's why he's been emergent for this last week, humans don't become emergent either" James reminded the boy with a smile. George nodded. "Does that mean dad Mike's going to do the presentation at the temple and you're going to hold my hand this time?" he asked James innocently. James and Mike exchanged a long look. "Fuck" Mike hissed, "I never considered" but the rest of his thought was obscured by David's laughter of victory.

"Daddy Mike said it this time!" he squealed, "Fu" he began but James put his hand over the gleeful boy's mouth. "Not a chance, squirt" he said with a mock frown, "grown-ups use that word when we're surprised or upset. When you're grown up you can use it too but small boys don't get upset or surprised enough to be allowed to, okay? Don't you dare" he grinned, moving his hand. "Uk" David finished with a grin of triumph. James rolled his eyes then looked at Mike. "We don't use that word, Mike, do we?" he said in a tone of voice that was all for the children. "Not even when we're really upset because it gives some people" here he mock-glared at David, "and excuse to copy us. And you don't have to do the presentation" he finished in more adult tones.

Mike shook his head. "Yes I do, James" he said, "Apollo would expect it, he didn't give me this gift only for me to refuse to honour him. Only" he continued, "someone's going to have to show me how to draw the sword, they're fu" he stopped and corrected himself, "really heavy."

"There's no rush, you've got nine months of jellyfish to endure yet" he said, grinning at the boys. "Though jellyfish Mike doesn't have the same ring as jellyfish James, does it George?" and the whole family collapsed in laughter. After they'd gotten their breath back, Mike said, "go ahead, honey, invite all your brothers, it'd be nice to get everyone together, I think it'd be good to see everyone, not to mention it won't be long before neither me nor Tom will be able to travel."

That afternoon saw a large gathering in the cottage's back garden. Luckily their neighbours were both single old ladies who generally ignored the peculiar family living between them so they could get away with being slightly more open about their relatives than other spartans perhaps were able to. Though it was late September it was still warm and pleasant enough to be sat outside in the sunshine. James had lit the big barbeque and been shopping for burgers and sausages and Mike had played with the children and kept them entertained whilst they waited for their company. He'd found a tight, waist-length teeshirt and a pair of low riding tracksuit bottoms to be the most comfortable clothes to wear. Though he didn't relish the idea of his new status and identity being on show, the thought of putting a shirt on and having it rub against the ball made him wince. In the end he put a shirt on as a jacket and fastened just a couple of the buttons, just so that he felt a little better dressed. As he sorted through his wardrobe he admired his physique. His arms and legs were far better muscled than they had been and his beer belly paunch had all but vanished, leaving firm abdominal muscles in its wake. He'd also grown perhaps an inch and a half in height and he'd noticed soft, fine new blonde hair sprouting through on his temples and bald patch. All in all, though he was still visibly and identifiably the same person he had experienced quite a few significant changes.

As the guests arrived there were the usual jokes that spartan men reserve for those occasions when one of them has clearly only recently conceived, together with admiration and not a few comments about Mike's rapid and obvious change in both appearance and species. Tom was only a month further on than Mike in his gestation and his filaments were slowly moving to weave the web across his stomach. Alex came by himself but his current partner, Daniel, whom he loved to distraction, was certainly `the one', even though Alex hadn't revealed anything about his background or family as yet. Carl and Winston had four-year old Simon in tow and just two days previously Carl had become emergent again so their second son would be conceived within the week. Winston seemed to be both thrilled and a little distracted and had a severe case of over-protection as well as a stupid grin. He was, to Mike's great surprise, both amazed and thrilled at his change in status. "Man, if anyone deserved this it's you" he grinned. "You're such an amazing couple, you deserve the chance to see your kids grow up" he said.

"It doesn't bother you that it was a pagan god that changed me?" Mike asked, curious. Winston shook his head. "Mike, whatever you call him there's only one God" he said. "Now you know I think that temple's pretty sick but at least with this happening" he pointed to Mike's stomach, "you know that God's listening there, somehow." Mike nodded. "You know, he possessed James and when he spoke to me he called me Michael son of Jehovah and he named Jehovah and Christ and the gods of Greece and Sparta separately. What do you reckon he meant?" Winston smiled. "I reckon we are not meant to understand the ways of God, my friend" he replied enigmatically.

As day drew into evening it began to get chilly so they took the gathering inside. It was then that a few of their guests, most notably Phil and Simon, started a more serious discussion than the weather, football results and babies that had dominated the day's party. "Mike" Simon began, "You're looking really well." Mike smiled. "Thanks, I'm feeling well" he admitted. "We can tell, in fact it's so obvious that Phil and I both think you're going to have some serious problems if you meet anyone that you know. So we were wondering," he continued, "Phil and I own a quite few rental properties around Manchester, if we were to sell some of them we could set you up somewhere far away from here, where you wouldn't meet anyone professionally either and give you a year's income or something to live on whilst you get through the gestation and go back to work."

"We couldn't take your money, dad" James said solemnly.

"That's why I wanted all four of you together" Simon continued, "we'd split the proceeds between you and if you put your cottage on the market you and Mike will have plenty to get a house with as well as money to live on until you get new jobs. Look" he sighed, "you know you'll have to move during the gestation anyway, you can't stay here. And all around here, being a lawyer, you'd risk having to work in Manchester so you can't even stay in the area. If someone sees you, Mike, even in passing it'd only be a matter of time before any lies you told would trip you up and then we'd all be up shit street. I've spoken about this with your granddad Paul, James" he continued, "and he's in agreement, in fact he's offered to sell up his place in London and buy this cottage from you and add the surplus to your funds."

Mike shook his head. "We can't do this, it's too much money, it'd be too difficult, not to mention it's not fair on Carl or Alex or Tom" he protested. "Mike" Tom said, "Phil and Si both asked us about this first. You're going to have to move anyway and pretty soon. You know that as well as the rest of us. If you don't, I'm sure I don't have to point out that the ultimate risk is that the existence of spartans becomes public knowledge and you and your son will be kept in a laboratory for the rest of your lives. If you want to live anything like a normal life you're going to have to swallow your pride, Mike. It's not for your sake you need to take this money, it's for ours, if the connection is made from you to James then James to us we'll all be on show. I don't want my son to grow up a freak" he said, a tear leaking from one eye and dripping down his cheek as his hand went to and hovered a bare millimetre above the sensitive white-grey bubble he bore.

"How do we do this?" James asked softly. Winston cleared his throat. "I might not be as experienced as you, Mike and I'm not a full solicitor yet but I'm good enough to get this started. Leave the paperwork to me" he said with a grin, "I'll see this works out okay."

"There is one more thing" Phil said softly. "What?" James asked. "Very soon you're going to be unable to travel and the process of selling and buying property takes months so we've taken the liberty of purchasing of a small house for you using some of our properties as collateral for a loan. It was a vacant property and because it's cash we're going to be able to sign over and get the keys next week. You don't need to stay there permanently but we needed to get this done sooner rather than later."

"Where are you sending us?" Mike wondered. "St Ives in Cornwall" Alex said, "I went down with Si to check it out, it's actually a really nice house. Just get your removal van booked and you can be down there in a week."

"What about work?" Mike demanded. "I can't just up and leave." Winston cleared his throat. "I've taken the liberty of drafting some letters for you" he said. "A few signatures and you're perfectly able to up and leave" he assured Mike. "And within three months, maximum, the rest of the money will come through and Si can pay off the loan and you'll have money to live on."

"You've got me over a fucking barrel" Mike muttered, "but I know you're right." He grinned wryly. "Thanks guys" he said softly. He reached for James' hand and grasped it tightly. "I know this is the right thing to do but it just seems to be happening so fast, my head's a mess."

"Anyway, it's getting late" Carl said, "and we need to get Simon to bed. As long as you're agreed, you'll do this, we'll leave you to it?"

"Yeah, we're agreed" Mike said with a smile.

Ten days, a few dozen letters and phone calls and one removal van later, Mike and James found themselves on the way to Cornwall and though the drive was long and the journey tiring they arrived in the small seaside town in good spirits. Their new house was a Victorian terrace up a steeply inclined hill from the famous little fishing harbour and it boasted three good bedrooms and a small, stepped garden. Phil had travelled with James, the children and the removal van and was helping to set the house up. Mike and Si dawdled some miles behind and waited in Newquay until darkness fell and they could come to the house unseen by neighbours, since Mike was, of course, going to hide completely until after his child was born.

David and Andrew settled in easily but George was miserable. "I didn't want to move" he complained over supper the following day. "We didn't have any choice, Georgie-boy, you know that" James said, ruffling his hair and giving him a hug. He looked at Mike. "Me and Mike have been thinking of a something that might make it up to you" he said. "George, you can keep our secrets, right?" he asked and the boy solemnly nodded. "And that includes saying anything about Mike being here until after your new brother is born?" he continued and George nodded again. "As long as you're certain you can keep those promises and never, ever tell other people our secrets, do you fancy joining school in January?"

His eyes lit up. "You mean it?" he gasped. "School, really?" He flung his arms around James' neck, "I promise I promise I'll never tell anyone anything, I really promise!" he exclaimed. "Alright, calm down" Mike said as George ran over to him. "No hugs, George, remember?" he said with a smile. "And before you go to school we're going to have some special classes so you know how to answer all the awkward questions and you need to concentrate more than you've ever done, ever, okay? No complaining you want to play out or go on the beach, if we say you need to study, you need to study, understand?" George nodded but looked a little glum.

"Georgie, honey, if you're going to go to a real school with other kids there's things that you need to know" James said. "If we're going to let you do this we're going to be treating you as a grown-up and you're going to have grown-up responsibilities. Do you think you're up to that?" He looked thoughtful. "I'm a grown up, then?" he asked. James chuckled. "Kind of, George" he said.

"You know that people think we're ordinary human but we're not, right?" he asked and George nodded. "That's the biggest secret that we keep and if you end up letting it slip and people find out that you're spartan you're going to be exposing the rest of us. Thousands of spartans across the world will be totally relying on you being able to keep this secret, just like we rely on them keeping it secret. Some of the people you'll never meet but for their sake and yours and your brothers, humans must not find out that we're different. So what it means if we let you go to school is that Mike and I won't be able to make you stay quiet or explain things for you, you've got to be able to do it all by yourself and that's a very grown up thing to have to do and that's why you've got to have some special lessons. Okay?"

"Okay dad James" he nodded seriously as he tucked into his meal.

The next day James continued to unpack and sort the house, then took David and Andrew for a walk into town to get some shopping. Mike stayed inside, hidden in from the outside world by window blinds and thick nets so that no one in the town even knew he was there. What this meant of course was that James would have to appear to be a single parent. George would be allowed to stay at home with Mike but unless someone else, Phil or Si, perhaps, was there, neither of the other boys could be left in Mike's care for appearance's sake. So it was on this morning that George stayed at home to pretend to play on his computer but in reality to have his first lesson in concealment from Mike.

"Okay" Mike began. "The first question you'll probably be asked is, who do you live with?" George thought for a moment. "I know how to answer this one" he said, "I live with my dad and my brothers" he replied.

"Very good" Mike replied. "Now the next one is a bit more difficult. What would you say if someone asked you, where's your mum, George?"

George frowned. "I've heard you answer this one. You tell them that she died when Andrew was born, don't you?"

Mike nodded. "But honey, you'll need to be able to describe her" Mike explained. "People will think you are old enough to have memories of her because Andy isn't one until next week and that means she only died a year ago. So you should tell people that she had long blonde hair and blue eyes and soft hands and you loved her very much, then, this is the difficult bit George, you need to pretend to cry but do it in such a way that people actually believe you're actually crying. Can you do that?"

"That's hard Mike. People will guess that I'm pretending" the boy complained. Mike smiled. "I find it helps if I imagine someone I know dying. If people ask, how about imagining that either James or me are dead? Imagine never seeing us again, that might make your tears look real."

George's lip quivered and a tear formed in his eye. "I don't want to think that, it's horrible, it reminds me of your heart attack" he whispered, tears falling.

"But honey, you look properly upset, as if you're crying for your mum who died" Mike pointed out. "That's exactly what you're supposed to look like. So let's try that from the beginning. "Who do you live with, George?"

"I live with my dad and my brothers."

"No mum? Where's your mum, George?"

"My mum died when my littlest brother was born" the boy said softly and after a second a tear fell down his cheek

"Excellent!" Mike said, taking hold of the boy's hand. "You don't have to do this, honey" he said as George continued to cry, "but if you want to go to school you need to be able to lie convincingly. No one must guess that you never had a mum, they must think she died, okay?"

"Okay" the boy sniffled.

"You want to continue?" Mike asked him and he nodded solemnly, wiping his face on his sleeve.

"Okay, then the next question is a bit different. What are your parent's names, George?"

"Mike and James" he said promptly.

Mike shook his head. "Honey, you can't ever say that. You need to say my dad is called James and my mum's name was Joanne. That's the name of the imaginary lady on your birth certificate. Okay?"

"Why can't I say that you're my dad?" George asked petulantly. "Cos you are, aren't you?"

Mike smiled a conciliatory smile. "Son, Georgie, of course I am" he whispered, taking him into his arms and hugging him tightly. "Your dad James could never have a baby with anyone else except me, spartans don't work that way. But no one must ever know or else everyone will know you're not human and people could be mean and cruel to us all. It's important honey, I know it's not nice, having to lie but it's important. Okay?"

"Okay" George said solemnly.

Mike continued with similar lessons, explaining more about the differences between spartans and humans and helping George to learn answers to the questions he might be asked. Over the next few weeks, for about an hour each day, George was made to practise answers to all sorts of questions so that he memorised them.

"Do your brothers have the same mum as you?" "Yes but they don't really remember her as much as I do."

"Why isn't your brother at school?" "Because my dad teaches him at home"

"Who was that man in your house the other day?" "it was my uncle, he came down for a bit but he works in Manchester."

"Why have you got so many muscles?" "I just like sports"

"Why are you so tall?" "I just am"

"Do you have a photo of your mum?" "Dad put them all away `cos we all get too upset looking at them but I know he'd give me one if I really wanted it."

October saw Andrew's first birthday and in November David turned five. As the autumn progressed, James phoned the local primary school and registered ten-year-old George to start the following term. He explained to the school a little about George's family, that he was a widower and George's mother had died following complications after the birth of George's youngest brother and also told them that the boy had been homeschooled but that he had decided he should come to school now they were in a new town. He specifically asked the school to keep an eye on children who were asking questions about his mother, "as George doesn't like talking about her, it upsets him too much."

Soon December approached and along with Christmas came a school uniform for George, escalating pain for Mike, three months into the gestation and the first instalment of money for the family, from James' granddad, Paul, whose house had been sold and completed and who had moved in to their old cottage in the Pennines. The money was most welcome and served as a comfortable buffer to pay bills and enable James to stay at home and be a full time carer both for the children and an increasingly uncomfortable Mike.

Mike and James were incredibly nervous as George was picked up by the school bus and taken to school on the first day of the January term, worrying about the questions he'd be asked and the things he'd have to face. They were anxious as home time approached and the bus pulled up outside their home, concerned about how he would have coped but in their wildest dreams they never could have imagined George's experience.

The boy came in, flush faced, amazement obvious in his childlike features. "Dad Mike, dad James, there was a boy in my class called Greg" he blurted as soon as he was through the door. "He was just beautiful, I've never seen anyone like him!" he gushed, "and I didn't want to come home, what time's school tomorrow, I want to see him!" he exclaimed, collapsing onto the sofa with a melodramatic roll of his eyes.

James and Mike exchanged a long glance. "It's not" Mike muttered, "it can't be, he's too young" he continued as he regarded his completely love-struck son. James shook his head. "There's no lower age limit, honey, the only thing that would have overwhelmed him like this is a partner bond."

"He's ten years old" Mike protested again. James sighed. "You think I don't know that? Honey" he then said to George, "we need to have a long talk this evening, okay? Not now" he continued, noting how curiously five-year-old David followed the conversation, "later on. You can stay up for a bit. There's some things you need to know" he finished.

Mike grinned. "Is it the birds and the bees or the birds and the birds?" he asked James in a hushed whisper. "Shut your mouth or I'll make you do it" James whispered back, also grinning, as he headed to the kitchen to make supper.

Mike sat on the settee watching television and half-listening as his partner and eldest son sat at the kitchen table after his younger brothers were in bed. "George" James began, "you know how spartans have babies, right?" he asked.

George nodded. "If you love someone very much and they love you back you can grow fila" he stuttered, "fila, fila" "filaments" James prompted, "yeah, filaments that will make a bubble for a baby to grow in, like dad Mike's got now" the ten year old finished.

"That's right" James said. "Now we're going to take this one bit at a time. Let's start off with the baby. You need two bits to make a baby, one from each of your dads. For example, the bit I gave you made you have dark hair and strong muscles and the bit your dad Mike gave you caused you to have pale skin and blue eyes, does that make sense?" George nodded.

"But when you're first made, like you saw Mike's bubble at the beginning and you remember mine when I first began to gestate Andrew, the bits are very, very small. One bit comes out of the opening in the centre of the filaments in the dad that's going to gestate the baby and that's called an egg. It's the egg that makes us different to humans because in humans only ladies have eggs, men don't. The other bit is called sperm and that comes from your other dad. They get put together and a new baby boy is made and then he begins to grow inside the bubble and filaments, the bit that looks like a jellyfish" he said, making the boy smile.

"So you know where the egg comes from and how it gets into the baby? It comes from inside one of your dad's tummies and travels up the filaments till it reaches the air. But the sperm comes from your other dad and it comes out of his penis. Okay?"

"Dad James, I'm not sure I understand" George admitted. "George, honey, human men and spartans can all make something called sperm once they're old enough, usually from being between ten and thirteen years old though spartans can be a bit younger and humans a bit older. It's a gooey liquid that can be half a baby if it's put onto the top of your filaments. It doesn't have to be put there but if it does you'll make a baby. If you really love someone and they touch you on your penis it starts to feel all hard and funny and then sperm comes out. It happens to all human men and all spartans in exactly the same way and it's nothing to worry about or be frightened of, it's just your body's way of making you feel good or helping you to make a baby, okay?"

"It feels good?" George asked innocently. James grinned. "Yeah, George, it feels good but only if you're with someone you love very much. Which is why I wanted to talk to you tonight - you know this Greg you've met at school?"

"Yeah?"

"You love him very much don't you?" George blushed and nodded.

"What might happen first of all is that your penis goes hard and feels funny and sperm comes out all by itself when you think of Greg and it might happen at night when you're asleep too if you dream of Greg. It's nothing to worry about but it might feel strange. But it might also happen if you touch your penis or if Greg touches it, okay? And it might happen to Greg too, if he loves you back, his penis might do the same thing. Does that make sense?" George nodded again.

"But here's the really important bit, George" James continued. "You're too young, far too young to gestate and have your own baby. But if you ever touch Greg's penis and his sperm comes out of it and goes on your skin then your body might make filaments. It might happen if you kiss him too or even if you just put your hands on his bare skin too much, so honey, I know you really love him but you can't kiss him and you can't touch his penis or his sperm and you can't let him touch yours and you absolutely can't touch each other if either of you take your clothes off, okay? I know you might want to one day but you've got to say no, okay George? Otherwise your insides might think that you want to have a baby and your filaments might come out. They'll really hurt and you'll have to stay off school and then you won't be able to see Greg at all until they've fallen out and gone away."

"I won't see Greg till they're gone?" he asked, suddenly tearful.

"No, you won't want to go outside because your filaments will hurt too much" James told him, "but if you don't kiss him and don't touch his penis or his sperm then you should be okay. Just sit near him and talk to him and joke with him or play sports with him or give him a hug over his coat or jumper. But no kissing, no penises, no sperm and absolutely no getting naked, you're too young and even if it feels good to begin with it'll hurt you too much later on, okay? You understand, squirt?" he finished with a grin.

"I understand dad James" he smiled back.

He went to bed a short while later and James sat down next to Mike, half-heartedly watching television. "That went well," Mike grinned. "I couldn't have explained it better myself" he said.

"Do you think he took it in, have we dodged the bullet on this one?" James asked with a frown. Mike nodded. "Yeah, I reckon so, especially when you told him he wouldn't see Greg, I think that made him take notice. God, I thought he'd at least be twelve or thirteen before we had to have that conversation with him, not ten fucking years old" he laughed then winced. "Fuck that hurts" he said, hands going to his sides.

James covered Mike's hands with his own and cradled him softly. "Shh, calm, gentle breaths" he whispered, "easy now, honey" he continued as Mike slowly relaxed again. "You're doing so well, it's easy to forget how strange your body must feel to you right now" he continued. "I grew up seeing my dads, knowing I'd be able to carry a child, it must be so new for you. I'd love to know what you're thinking right now."

Mike smiled softly. "It's kind of magical, thinking that there's a new life right here" he said, indicating the bubble, "and then there's all the other changes, my hair, my height, it's all kind of strange. I look in the mirror and I sometimes feel I don't know the person looking back. And I've got so much energy, even with this" he pointed to the bump again, "that it's like I'm twenty or thirty years younger. What do you think, honey?" he asked James, "am I still enough like the Mike you knew?"

"Mike" James said, "it's not what you looked like that ever attracted me, not before and not now, it's the whole of you. You were meant to be the other part of me, like an organ or limb I'd been missing. There's not a single thing that's ever or could ever happen that would change that. Perhaps the only difference is that I'm not grieving anymore or panicking about being on my own. It's not really like you've changed, honey, not really."

"You know, it's odd" Mike smiled. "Even with the bump and the baby I feel somehow more of a man than I ever have, what with the jaw line and the muscles and," he grinned, "the dick and the sex drive, it's like divine Viagra or something." James laughed. "You want?" he asked. Mike raised his eyebrows. "Do you?"

James narrowed his eyes and with a sparkling lilt in his voice said, "oh, yeah, I want." He smiled, stood up, turned the television and the lights off and they walked hand in hand upstairs.

Mike lay carefully on his back as James massaged him with oils and kissed him. They made love gently, ever aware of the bubble and filaments. Because of the ever-present pain and the danger of stillbirth Mike couldn't really do much and had to rely almost totally on James. On this particular evening James seemed to primarily want to tease and there was very little Mike could do except complain, quietly of course for fear of waking the children. Presently a tired and satisfied James came and rested his head on the pillow next to where Mike lay. "Have I ever told you I love you?" he smiled. "Except for when you're teasing me beyond endurance which doesn't count, have I ever told you I love you too?" Mike grinned back as they fell asleep in each other's arms.

The weeks and months passed and spring approached. George got more and more used to school and increasingly obsessed with Greg and Mike experienced more and more agonising pain, ending up bed bound shortly after Easter, which was when Paul, James' granddad, moved in to help. Neither Si nor Phil could come as they were both busy helping Tom and Carl respectively, both of whom were also gestating, Tom a month ahead of Mike, Carl only a week behind.

Mike remained surprisingly placid, especially compared to James who all three times had developed a vile temper. As his time approached, Tom's first son, Matthew, was born, coached by Simon, marking Mike's steady progression towards his own labour. One morning Mike asked James' opinion on something he'd been considering for a while. "Honey, we were talking about a birthing coach the other day" he began. "What do you think of getting George to do it, with your or Paul's help and only if he wants to, of course?" he asked.

"You serious?" James asked and Mike nodded. "Yeah, he seems to be desperate to tell Greg stuff and he's starting to get really anxious about losing him and wanting to kiss him and what have you. I thought if perhaps he saw what a birth was really like he might understand why he has to be careful but I'd also actually quite like it if it was him, it feels right somehow." James smiled. "We have to ask and discuss it with him properly but if it's what you want, he can be there at least. He'll have to have probably Paul's help, if I'm holding you up I won't be able to direct him."

"Yeah but you've coached before and have been through it three times, it's not like you'll need much reminding" Mike said. James laughed. "Don't you believe it, even when we've been there we still freak a little. Think about it, even having delivered George you still panicked when you had to tear David and Andrew out. Besides which, I'll be busy cradling the baby, you need someone with a steady hand to cut the umbilical and stop you from smashing your head open when you pass out."

"Fuck, I'd forgotten about that" Mike muttered. "I thought you had" James replied. "You're so placid, I know how much it hurts, I was in agony the whole bloody time but you seem just to be coping so well."

"It's the new life, every time the pain gets too much I just think of my, of our, new son growing there, it just amazes me every time. I can't get angry no matter how much it hurts, it's all just too special" Mike replied. "Though I know you passed out all three times when your umbilical was cut and you said that Carl did too. I don't know whether George will manage that bit knowing it'll knock me out. Perhaps we'd better ask Paul if he'll cut the cord at least." James nodded in agreement. "It's settled then and about time, you're due in less than two weeks. Has it started to lose any sensitivity yet?" Mike shook his head, "not really, or at least not so as I've noticed. I still can't breathe very well and I can't move without feeling like something's sunk huge fucking teeth into my sides and is biting down very slowly. God, it hurts, James" he sighed. "Not long now" James replied, wiping Mike's brow with a soft cloth.

Mike's labour started one afternoon. Paul was sat with him as James had walked with the two younger boys to town to get a few groceries before George arrived home from school. A tiny split appeared in the base of the bubble and as the fluid started to drip ever so slowly Mike drew a hissed breath. "Argh, oh god!" he muttered. Paul stood up, moved the sheets slightly and looked. "Ah, you're going into labour, it's just beginning to tear" he said. "If you can cope with the pain you can stay lying down for a bit" he continued, "James and I will get you up when he gets back."

"What about David and Andrew" Mike managed to gasp. Paul smiled. "It's amazing what crisps and chocolate and a DVD can achieve" he said, "besides which, if George is going to be doing most of your coaching I can nip up and down the stairs and make sure them two are okay and not wrecking the place" he smiled. Mike hissed again as he tried to shift his weight slightly and pulled on the tear. "Shh, nice and still, deep breaths" he counselled, "they'll all be home soon."

George arrived home first though James and the younger boys were only a few minutes behind. James came bounding up the stairs as soon as he realised what was happening, leaving George to watch his brothers for a few moments whilst he and Paul used all their strength to drag Mike off the bed and onto the prepared wad of towels on the carpet. He was left leaning against James panting softly as Paul said, "I'll go and get George and send him up."

The ten year old crept into the bedroom warily and his first reaction was embarrassment and discomfort at seeing Mike naked – throughout his gestation Mike had ensured he was covered with the sheet and duvet whenever the boys had come into the bedroom. George stood frozen in the doorway until James said, "George, honey, come around here and stand next to me. There's nothing to panic about, honest" he smiled softly, still holding up the trembling, sweating, gasping Mike whose bubble was ripping along its length. Paul presently followed George into the bedroom and began to speak. "Okay, George, you first need to look and see how far the bubble has torn. First all the filaments will snap away leaving it smooth and clear in a long line up the middle, then it'll all start to drip as the skin tears. When there's a gap of about three or four centimetres you can tell James to begin to work his fingers inside and tear it open and get hold of your brother. Go on, have a look, lad" he said, "what does the tear look like?"

"It's kind of arrow shaped" he said, "and there's some clear skin where it's dripping but the filaments are still connected higher up" he finished. Paul nodded. "That means that your dad isn't leaning over far enough" he said. "James, you need to lower him down a bit more, pull him over a little further," James followed his grandfather's instructions, manoeuvring Mike's trembling torso until the baby pushed a little harder on the upper part of the bubble. "Now what's it look like, George?" Paul asked. "The filaments are snapping and twanging one by one" he answered a little more confidently.

"Okay, now you know what you're waiting for? There needs to be a smooth, clear gap about three or four centimetres wide and it needs to be dripping along the whole length. Have a look every five minutes or so and when you think it's ready tell James" Paul instructed. "I'm just going to nip downstairs and check on your brothers, I'll be back up in a bit. And relax, lad, you're doing fine" he smiled at George before leaving the room.

The nervous ten-year-old knelt down beside his fathers. "What's the tear look like, George?" James prompted. He knelt down and looked. "It's about two centimetres wide and really smooth but only the bottom bit is dripping" he reported. James cradled Mike who whimpered a little with the pain. "Shh, it won't be long" he said softly. Without prompting George had another look. "A bit wider and more is dripping but not all of it yet" he said.

Long minutes passed and George continued to look and report on what the split was like. Unnoticed by the ten year old Paul had slipped back into the doorway and watched calmly. Finally George said, "it looks like granddad Paul said it should, it's wide enough and dripping the whole length. I think you need to start pulling it open, James" he finished.

With soft, warm fingertips James gently found the slippery, stretching tear and began to work his hand inside. The splits were very small, not wide enough for even one finger so as he pushed he tore it further and Mike began to hyperventilate. Without prompting or being asked George said to him, "Mike, you probably shouldn't breathe like that. Try taking big breaths really slowly." Mike managed a brief nod to his eldest son before taking his advice.

"James, can you touch my brother yet?" he asked. "Almost" James answered. "Hurry up James" Paul then spoke from the doorway, "you're making this last longer than it needs to. Rip it open already" and with a wrench he pulled and lifted his fourth son away from Mike's white, torn, painful torso. Paul was there with his hands on Mike's shoulders. He said to George, "help me help your dad to sit up."

The little baby started to scream with cold and shock and the wad of towels was sodden but George was transfixed and stared in joy-filled amazement. "Right George" Paul took over, "we need to tie the umbilical ready to cut it but this will hurt Mike a lot. Take this string" he handed one strand over, "and tie the umbilical as tight as you can right near your new brother's tummy. Good, now tie this second piece up close to your daddy Mike's tummy. Okay, you stand back a little and get ready to help your daddy James with your new brother and I'll cut the cord and catch Mike when he falls. Ready? Close your eyes, Mike" he finished, then silently moved the sharp knife closer and with one swift cut father and son were separate.

Mike, as predicted, passed out and Paul caught him and laid him carefully on his side on the carpet. James dressed the new baby and George helped his great-grandfather, doing the second cut himself to remove the umbilical and pulling the bubble and filaments away. Mike was relatively clean by the time he opened his eyes and together Paul and George helped him onto the bed and James handed the baby to him. James helped him to get the baby in the right place to feed and George, again without prompting, went to find a pair of soft boxer shorts and handed them to James so he could help Mike put some clothes on. Finally Mike looked at his partner, oldest and youngest sons with a tired smile. "You okay, Georgie?" he asked. "Yeah" he answered with a grin, "thanks dad Mike, it was nice to help you."

"Come on, George, let's leave them alone for a bit, shall we" Paul said and he led the ten-year old out of the room and down the stairs, back to where David and Andrew were still watching cartoons.

"We need a name" James said. Mike gazed at the baby softly, tears of amazement standing unshed in his eyes. "Gabriel" he said. "What about Gabriel, Gabe for short?" he asked James. "Gabriel Michaelson" James tried the name out in his mouth. "Yeah, I like it" he smiled. And it was almost like the baby knew he was being discussed for his face moved into the semblance of a small, tired smile before he started drinking once more.

They ordered the usual paperwork for the boy as they had for their other three sons, a fake marriage certificate for Mike, a birth certificate for the child and a death certificate for the imaginary woman who was supposed to be his mother. It was, of course, a different woman to the other three boys as she was supposed to be Mike's wife, not James'. Three weeks after the birth, Mike pretended to arrive there from Manchester, grieving for his wife and turning to his cousin for support.

As the excitement and stress of the gestation faded and the baby settled into the family life, George began to become even more obsessive about Greg than he had been before, talking and crying about him constantly. Finally, one evening as June merged into July, Mike and James sat down and talked with him. Mike started by saying, "George, honey, you saw how Gabe was born, you know how much it hurt me and how I was stuck in bed for weeks before. Do you really want to go through all that, not seeing anyone, being in pain all the time, then having a baby to feed and nurse and change? Gabe wakes me up two or three times every night and I have to feed him and change him. You'd have to leave school for ever and you've only just got there."

"I know dad Mike, I don't want a baby yet but Greg keeps trying to kiss me and hold my hand and its horrible having to tell him no and then when I do he gets all upset and seems really scared that I don't really love him when all I'm trying to do is follow your rules" George explained tearfully.

Mike and James exchanged a look. "I tell you what, honey," James said, "why don't you let him kiss you, kiss him back and touch him and everything? Then if your filaments come out and you're writhing in agony you'll wish you followed our advice."

"But Greg's filaments will come out too, won't they?" he asked. James shook his head. "The chances are he's ordinary human, he won't have filaments. He could probably kiss you and touch you as much as he wanted with no problems at all but you, squirt, will suffer for it. But it's up to you. No restrictions anymore, as long as you're careful not to do anything where you might get caught, it's up to you, I'm tired of hearing you cry when you ask if you can kiss him."

"You mean that?" the boy asked between his tears.

James sighed. "George, you need to be sensible, honey. You two get caught by anyone and your school and probably Greg's mum and dad will be furious. Then we'll probably have to keep you off school because you'll be emergent. Then Greg will wonder why you're avoiding him when all you're trying to do is keep the fact that you're not human from becoming obvious. But I'm sick of telling you that you can't when you're clearly not taking in the reason why."

He sat sniffling sullenly. "Greg doesn't have a mum" he muttered. "He lives with his dad and his uncle, his mum died when he was a baby" he said. "And he's dead tall and strong like me. And he gets upset like I do when we have to say goodbye, I think he's spartan like us."

"But you don't know that, you can't say anything until you're older and you know he'd keep the secret" Mike counselled. "I knew James for a whole year before I found out he was spartan, before that I thought he was human like I was. Look, if you two do end up touching and kissing and you do become emergent we'll telephone Greg's dad and speak to him, though god knows what we'll actually say. But you've got to promise to be really careful" Mike finished.

"I will" George replied. "Can he come over after school one day next week?"

James flung his hands up into the air. "I give up!" he exclaimed. "Yes, George, as long as his dad agrees, he can come over after school. I'll write a note for you to pass to Greg that he can give to his dad and we'll sort something out."

"I can just tell him" George protested but James shook his head. "No, let's do this the proper way and make sure his dad's okay with it first. Okay?"

"Okay" George grinned happily.

It was actually nearer ten days time, on a weekend morning only a couple of weeks before the start of the summer holidays, when Greg was driven over to Mike and James' house by his dad and his uncle. The three got out of the car and were greeted at the door by an excitable George who had been watching at the window. "You're here!" he squealed and the pair ran and hugged each other tightly.

"Erm, yes" James muttered, reaching over the embracing boys to shake Greg's father's hand. "Come in, if you can get past" he laughed, continuing, "George, break it up sweetheart, you don't need to cling to Greg quite so tightly, I'm sure."

"I'm James and this is my cousin, Mike. And these are my boys, David, Andrew and of course George, and the baby is Gabriel, Mike's son" he introduced the family once they'd managed to close the front door. "I'm Stuart, Greg's dad and this is my brother, Pete" the younger of the two men responded, "and you've figured out who Greg is, I'm sure" he said, indicating where the boys sat on the bottom step of the staircase, fingertips on each other's cheeks, staring deeply into each other's eyes with an incredibly pure intensity of passion.

"God, I'm sorry George is like this" Mike said, "he's usually not quite so" he paused, unsure how to finish.

"Obviously head over heels in love?" Pete finished with a laugh. "I'm afraid Greg's just as bad, he's driven us insane since George started at school."

Mike looked at the two men stood in their sitting room and glanced at the ten year-olds sat on the staircase. They all either spent inordinate amounts of time exercising, it seemed, from their physique, or else had another reason for being so statuesque. James had obviously come to the same conclusion for he said softly, "you remind me of someone I knew once. Have either of you got any Greek blood in you?"

Pete spoke, looking at Mike and James with a suggestive smile. "Both our ancestors came from Greece, from the area around where the ancient city of Sparta once was."

Mike let out an explosive breath. "Shit, I thought so from the moment I saw you. Even George figured it out!"

"You're both spartan?" Stuart asked with a combination of surprise and relief evident in his voice. Mike nodded. "Yeah, you two?" Stuart nodded back. "Then you know we've probably got a problem here?" Mike continued, indicating with his head back to the hallway. "If they continue the way they are they'll both become emergent."

"We know but Greg's doesn't understand, I don't think. He's an only child but we've both gestated twice. I lost one son and bore Greg but Pete's lost both" Stuart said softly. "Greg would have been our youngest boy, he's never seen us gestating, I think he's so obsessed with having his own son he hasn't stopped and thought about what it'd mean. And it's like nothing we say goes in, he doesn't listen to anything."

"I guess George is the opposite but he's just terrified of losing Greg" Mike replied. "He's our oldest and he agreed to be my coach for Gabe's birth so he knows exactly what he's letting himself in for. But even that didn't made him take any notice of anything we've tried to tell him" he raised his eyebrows and shrugged.

James shook his head in apparent exasperation. "We've got two choices I guess, we either forcibly keep them apart or we let them just go for it and deal with whatever consequences as they happen. I mean, from the way they're acting it's pretty clear it's a partner bond so they'll end up in each other's pants sooner or later" he concluded, making Mike, Stuart and Pete all laugh.

"Shit, honey, they're ten years old, they're far too young" Mike said. "You sure about this?"

"You want go to and separate them?" James asked, nodding towards the hallway where the two boys were locked in an embrace, kissing each other passionately. He went to the doorway. "George, honey" he spoke softly and the boys sprang apart, blushing. "You've got a bedroom for that sort of thing, don't you?"

The boys' jaws both hung open in shock at the suggestion that hung openly behind James' apparently innocuous remark. Behind James, Stuart came over. "Don't look so surprised" he said to his son, "you've wanted this for months. Oh, yeah and Greg, you were right" he continued. "Right about what, dad?" the boy asked. "George is spartan" he confirmed softly. He and Pete walked to the front door, turning once more to their son and George, still sat, shocked, on the staircase.

"Be careful" Pete said to the pair and it seemed to Mike that his eyes had unshed tears in them. "And I want you both to promise me" he continued, "if you don't want to do something or if it scares you or hurts you you'll tell each other and you'll stop straight away?" Greg blushed and nodded "I promise dad Pete" he mumbled. "And so do I" George answered as Pete's gaze turned to him.

"We'll be back later on" Stuart then said, "say about six o'clock?"

"Yeah, you can have supper with us if you like" Mike offered and they nodded. "Cheers, see you later" they said, nodding once more to their son before walking down the path.

James closed the front door and turned back to where Greg and George still sat. "George, before you run upstairs" he began, "there's just a couple of things. Take it slowly" he instructed, "and you might find your bottle of baby oil useful in more ways than one." He grinned and George went scarlet and scowled.

"Don't look at me like that" James said to his grimacing son, "if you try anything and you're skin is dry then it'll hurt. Trust me, use the oil" he grinned. "Now scram" he said softly, pointing up the stairs, "and remember to draw your bedroom curtains and put some music on, we don't want to listen and the neighbours definitely don't want to watch". They needed no more encouragement and ran, giggling, upstairs and into George's bedroom, slamming the door behind them.

James and Mike retreated into the living room with their three younger sons. "I can't believe we've just allowed that" Mike muttered in stunned disbelief, nodding towards the door.

"Like they gave us any choice?" James returned. "Once we knew Greg was spartan it was obvious it was a partner bond and I think Greg's dads could see it as clearly as we could. At least this way, horrified teachers won't walk in on them and they won't end up being watched by paedophiles or perverts or anything."

"Yeah but they're ten" Mike repeated again, shaking his head.

Upstairs George and Gabe had fallen onto each other, kissing with mad passion. They began to eat each other's faces with unrestrained lust, until George pulled back a little and, sensibly, said, "Greg, we don't need to rush. This'll be our first time together, I want it to be special, okay?"

Greg nodded. "Sorry George, I got carried away" he said. "I just want you."

George laughed. "You've got me, baby" he smiled.

They carefully closed the bedroom curtains and George shoved the rubbish off his bed onto the floor and kicked the dirty clothes that were pre-requisite in a young boy's bedroom into a pile. Greg looked through George's music collection and eventually picked a CD of soft rock. As the music started to play they looped each other's arms around their partner's necks and shoulders and danced a slow dance as their tongues took up a gentle probing into each other's mouths.

Then it was Greg who pulled his face back a bare inch and giggled. "What is it, baby?" George whispered. "I wanted to fall through the floor when our dads agreed we could do this" he explained, "I was so embarrassed, it was awful and the four of them were just standing around looking at us. And then dad Pete going all tearful and protective on me, that was just," he closed his eyes and shuddered wordlessly.

George shuddered and grinned simultaneously. "My dads are only downstairs and they know exactly what we're planning to do, how do you think I feel?"

"Yeah but they seem pretty cool" Greg said, "they seemed really concerned for us both, I know they're just grown-ups but they seem to understand."

"I still don't want them to hear us. That'd just be, like, so embarrassing to know they'd listened" George whispered and that was it for conversation as they kissed and danced some more.

After half an hour spent simply kissing, they broke for air. "I feel like I'm tingling all over" Greg whispered. "Me too" George replied, his eyes closed, leaning into Greg's arms. "Would you be okay to take your clothes off, George?" Greg asked suddenly. "I think I'd like to see all of you." And it was a mark both of their love and the trust that they felt that George was able to unselfconsciously pull away from the embrace, pull his teeshirt off, kick off his sandals and peel his shorts and boxers slowly to the ground. He stood bare naked in front of the boy he loved and smiled. A gentle pink glow spread over his face but he wasn't embarrassed or uncomfortable, just happy to be able to do as Greg had asked.

"Can I touch you?" Greg asked, his eyes wide with amazement. George nodded. Greg reached forward and placed his palm on George's smooth chest and sighed with longing. "You feel so good" he exhaled, adding a second hand and placing them on George's sides, just above his waist and simply holding him.

"Should I get undressed now?" Greg whispered shortly. "That'd be nice but only if you want to" George replied, "I'm enjoying you just touching me."

"I want you to touch me too" Greg explained, dropping his hands, dragging his teeshirt over his head and shimmying out of his shorts and underwear. His trainers and socks were dragged off with his shorts and then he, too, was in his altogether. "Should I touch you now?" George asked and Greg nodded. George didn't reach out with his hands, he simply stepped forwards and leaned against Greg and it seemed like electricity suddenly danced between the length of their bodies. Greg gasped and stumbled and George tried to hold him up but they ended up falling into George's bookcase, making an almighty crashing noise that would have been much worse and infinitely more painful had George not managed to grab the case and steady both himself and his lover.

"My dad's definitely heard that" he whispered, giggling, as they righted themselves and kicked the fallen books to one side. "Come on," he continued, "let's sit on my bed, we're not going to make as much noise when we fall over again" and Greg, also laughing, agreed.

"You already planning on us falling over again?" he asked George between giggles.

George grinned. "Of course" he replied, pulling Greg so that they lay down facing each other. "Just, lets try and be really quiet if we can." Greg nodded. "Okay" he said as they started kissing once more.

Presently Greg asked, "why did your dad mention baby oil, do you think?"

George started giggling. "I normally use it to rub on my skin when I get sunburned, it makes it feel nice and not so dry and crunchy. But I think dad James meant to use it if we decide to have, er" he blushed scarlet and mumbled something.

"What was that?" Greg asked. He was grinning and enjoying watching George squirm.

"You know already!" George said, noticing Greg's grin.

"What?" Greg asked innocently.

"You know" George said, taking a deep breath, "sex!" and they both fell apart in helpless giggles again. "You want to?" Greg asked presently, after they'd recovered from the laughing fit. George frowned. "I'm not sure but I'd like to touch you all over, you know, like a massage? I think that'd be nice. I'm not sure about the sex thing, I don't really know what to do."

Greg seemed to breathe a huge sigh of relief. George looked at him and said softly, "you don't need to worry about telling me what you want, I need you to tell me if something makes you uncomfortable. I don't want to have sex yet, I just want to touch you and I'd like you to touch me, okay?"

"That'd be nice" Greg smiled, "thanks." He looked up at George, gazing bashfully between his eyelashes. "I love you, you know."

"I love you too Greg" he said as they lay back on the bed and kissed some more.

Downstairs, Mike was still stressed and distracted. "Mike, sit down and feed Gabe and relax" James instructed for the dozenth time, "You're still looking at this from a human point of view and they're not human, they're spartan with a partner bond. Their age is irrelevant, honey, they're completely, totally obsessed with each other and their obsession will last the rest of their lives. At least by meeting so young they'll avoid the sleeping around and one night stands that most teenage spartans end up getting involved in. Our Tom had a different boyfriend every weekend from being sixteen right up until the day he met Clive, he drove our dads insane. At least this way" he said, nodding towards the hall, "we're avoiding all that."

"Yeah, I guess" Mike replied as he held Gabriel up to be fed. He didn't look convinced. "But what do we do when they become emergent?"

"Keep them off school until the filaments separate and fall out. Don't worry, hon, it's not as brutal as it sounds, the egg will simply retreat back inside and will return again in a few years time, they'll still both have two eggs. George might even have three, I did."

"But what if their filaments emerge in the middle of a school day? Or if they decide to have another go at the horizontal gymnastics" he indicated upstairs, "and a teacher catches them or they're spotted on the beach or something? And what if . . ."

"Enough with the, `what ifs' already!" James laughed. "Honey, chill out, you'll give yourself a migraine. Filaments normally emerge overnight as we're asleep. Hopefully allowing them to explore at home will keep their obsession at bay at school and in public. And we'll overcome anything else as it happens" he counselled. Mike wasn't convinced and it showed on his face. It was at that point that Greg and George fell into the bookcase and a crashing noise echoed through the house as George's books fell to the floor. Mike winced and an expression peculiarly close to pain flashed across his face.

"If you can't stand it you can take the boys for a walk" James suggested, seeing his lover's anguish. "David especially, he's far too curious, he needs to be taken out of the way for a bit. I can feed Gabe, unlike Andrew at least this little one will take a bottle" he finished, prising the small child away from Mike.

Mike went down to the old harbour for the morning, returning at lunch time with a tired Andrew and a thoroughly distracted David who'd been bought a new story book and wanted to sit and read. They ate sandwiches and drank home-made lemonade whilst sat at the patio table in the sunshine. "No signs of the boys? Aren't they hungry?" Mike asked James presently.

James just grinned. "It depends what you mean by signs" he said and Mike winced again, "but if you mean, have they come downstairs for food the answer's no. And no, before you ask, I'm not going up there to interrupt them" he finished.

Mid-afternoon saw Andrew and Gabe both go down for their afternoon nap and after he'd finished his book, David played in the garden and was going to plant some seeds, closely supervised by James, of course. Mike had been planning on doing a bit of work in reviewing documents for the spartan law firm who'd started outsourcing some work to him but he found the giggles, squeals and occasional spates of rhythmic banging echoing from upstairs to be profoundly disturbing and even a little sickening. "I'm sorry honey, I'm going to have to go out again" he said to James in the end, "I can't stand it."

James looked sympathetic. "Why is it upsetting you so much, Mike?" he asked.

Mike looked at James with raised eyebrows. "Do you really have to ask, James?" he said, irritation plain in his voice. "Our little boy is up there doing god knows what, I don't what him getting hurt or doing something he'd regret. He's just a little boy" and a little of Mike's pain slipped out as his words caught at the end.

James sighed. "Sit down, Mike" he said in a tone that brooked no opposition and reluctantly Mike joined his partner at the patio table. "Mike, you remember that night at the temple when you became spartan and first felt the full impact of our partner bond?" Mike nodded, frowning slightly, not sure what that had to do with anything. "And also back at the beginning when we first met?" and Mike nodded again.

James' face was serious and his voice soft. "Mike, honey, would you have ever done something or even suggested something that might have hurt me? Especially when the partner bond was brand new and overwhelming you?" he asked simply.

Mike quickly shook his head, "god, no, I'd never, ever want to hurt you James, even at the beginning you meant too much for me to even consider," he paused and met James' eyes, eyes that now flashed with amusement as Mike provided the answer to his own worries. "And do you really think Greg'll be any different than you were?" he asked. "They won't hurt each other, they're incapable of it. Their partner bond won't let them."

"But the noises, they're making my stomach churn, I can't stand it" Mike admitted. James shrugged. "Whatever they're doing it'll be consensual. George won't get hurt, I promise. I wouldn't have allowed it had I thought otherwise and nor would any spartan, our children are far too precious to us."

Mike sighed and sat quietly for a long minute. "Thanks honey" he said eventually, "I guess my imagination's doing me no favours. I just want to protect him, that's all."

"And the best way we can do that is to give them somewhere safe to explore their feelings" James replied with a soft smile. "Look, if you want to go out, that's fine. We'll all still be here when you get back. Go on, see if you can buy something for desert or something, I'll start on a ragu sauce and you can make lasagne later."

"Okay" Mike grinned, "I think I can manage that."

If Mike had known what his son and Greg were actually doing, he probably wouldn't have been nearly as disturbed as he was and his and James' conversation would have been unnecessary. Neither of them had bothered to find clothes as they were both still covered in greasy baby oil from where they'd splashed too much of it around when massaging each other, however when the noises that so disturbed Mike echoed through the house the boys weren't doing anything more erotic than playing computer games. The banging was Greg doing yet another victory dance and jumping up and down on George's bed as he beat him for the fifth time in a row. The squeals and giggling were when George knocked Greg's legs from under him and tickled him until he apologised for gloating. When the pair finally lay down together and kissed some more they were careful and quiet and the noise subsided, except for the occasional gasp when gentle fingers ran over the other's most sensitive spots.

It was mid-afternoon before the pair of exploring boys tried something overtly sexual. They were kissing and running fingers over each other's bodies and George touched Greg's penis, making him gasp. George decided to move his hand on Greg's willy in the same way he moved it on his own, up and down, to see if Greg could make sperms yet. George had, in the fashion of boys in puberty throughout history, experimented with his own body and he wanted to see if his boyfriend was the same or different. "Oh!" Greg gasped. "Oh, I'm gonna wee myself" he gurgled. "No you're not" George assured him, leaning in for a kiss. "You're probably gonna make sperms" he said. Greg's back arched and a tiny drop of watery, slightly white gooey liquid squirted out as the boy yelped. When he got his breath back George lifted his hand up to show the goo strung between his fingers. "See?" he said.

"My dad told me about sperms but I didn't think I'd make them yet" Greg said, stunned. "It's probably `cos you're with me" George said, "I've kinda started making sperms since I began dreaming of you" he blushed. "You do it too?" Greg whispered and George nodded. "If you rub my willy like I rubbed yours then you can see them" he explained and Greg grinned, pushed George flat on the bed and began rubbing.

Mike didn't get home until gone five o'clock and Greg and George were already in the bathroom taking showers when he arrived, washing off the baby oil as well as the evidence of three orgasms apiece. He headed straight for the kitchen to finish supper and the boys finally came downstairs, flush-faced and grinning ear-to-ear, only a few minutes before Greg's fathers arrived. "Finally decided to grace us with your presence?" James teased. "But before you get too comfortable, I've put clean bed linen on the landing, just in case you get the urge to change your sheets and put some washing in the machine." They retreated back upstairs and much merriment could be heard as they tided George's room. Stuart and Pete arrived just as the boys were walking downstairs again, George carrying an armful of sheets which he hurried through to the utility room with and shoved in the washing machine.

"Not given you any trouble or eaten you out of house and home?" Pete asked as Mike offered them coffee. James laughed. "We haven't seen them at all until just a few minutes ago. They completely missed lunch and I didn't fancy interrupting them, they obviously had something far more important than food on their minds" he finished.

"You're not veggie, I hope?" Mike interrupted. They shook their heads. "What have you cooked?" Stuart asked. "Lasagne," Mike replied, "and we've got chocolate cheesecake for afters so I hope you're hungry."

"Yeah!" George replied enthusiastically. "If you'd have noticed when lunchtime came you probably wouldn't be quite as hungry as you are" James laughed and George blushed. "Honey, you don't need to be embarrassed, it's not like we haven't all been there in our youth too. Just remember, humans won't be as understanding, they don't have anything like our partner bond so they won't ever be able to understand why we let today happen when you're both so young."

"Yeah but you're my dad and you probably heard us and everything" George muttered softly, still blushing beetroot red and clinging to Greg's hand. James just looked at his son, meeting his young, embarrassed eyes with a wise, parental gaze. "We all have a good idea what you were doing, son" he said after a moment. "And all of us here had a first time once, some longer ago than others but we've all been there. You did enjoy yourself, I trust?" he finished, amusement twinkling in his eyes. Somewhat reluctantly, George nodded. "And you don't regret it, do you?" James continued and George gushed, "no, never, I love Greg too much to regret any of it!" James laughed softly. "Then why are you so embarrassed?"

George felt like his insides were squirming but made himself say, "'cos you're my dad and it's just weird that you were okay with it, you were supposed to be mad at us." James just grinned and reached over, ruffling his oldest son's hair. "Just don't make me a granddad yet or I promise I will be mad!" he laughed and the tension broke as the two families sat down to enjoy supper together.

Later on the adults sat in the lounge over coffee, David and Andrew were taken up to bed and though Gabe had already taken a full bottle, Mike offered breast milk to the perpetually hungry baby. The first time he'd moved his teeshirt and held the boy up Greg had been unable to do anything other than stare until Pete said, "Greg, it's rude to stare."

"But he's" he stuttered.

"We told you that spartans can breast feed" Stuart said. "I breast fed you when you were small" he continued. "It's part of what we are. Now stop staring."

"I can feed Gabriel somewhere else if you'd prefer" Mike offered. Pete shook his head. "Nah, if he and George continue, Greg's going to be doing the feeding himself sooner or later, he needs to realise it's no big deal."

Presently, Greg and George put a DVD on, a new Disney movie and were thoroughly enjoying it and the adults were talking quietly about inconsequential things when the telephone rang. James answered. "Mike, it's my granddad Paul" he said after a moment. "He wants to talk with you about presenting Gabe."

"Shit" Mike said with feeling. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Hand it over" he said.

"Hi Paul"

"Hi Mike, you are you?"

"Wishing I didn't have to do this, that's how I am at this precise moment."

"I'm actually phoning to see if you wanted some sword practise first, you've never drawn one before, have you?"

"No I haven't, it'd be appreciated, thanks. It'd be awful if I ended up losing my grip, after all."

"Indeed, I'd rather not have my latest great grandson skewered if I can help it. Shall we set a date? What are you doing next week?"

Mike arranged to go up to London in the week for a practise and put the receiver down with some relief. "What was that about?" Pete asked. "My grandfather" James explained, "he's an Apolline priest and really keen on us keeping the old rituals" he said briefly.

"You've presented all your boys then?" Stuart asked with surprise. James nodded. "Did you present Greg?"

"No" Pete answered. "We were both presented but we became Christians and so when Greg was born we had him baptised. He's never been into the temple, our brother's kids are all older than he is so he's never even been invited to a presentation. You're all old faith?" he asked. James nodded. "I am and my brothers all are and so far we've brought the boys up old faith too."

"What about you, Mike?"

"I was actually born human" he confessed. "Yeah, before you ask, I'm fully spartan now but my conversion was kind of a religious experience. Before it, I would have said I was catholic. Now I guess I'm still a nominal catholic but I believe in the power of Apollo. How else would I have carried Gabriel to term like spartan guy had Apollo not been divine?"

"For real? You're a modern conversion?" Stuart asked, stunned. Mike nodded. "I still generally use my birth name, Mike Hill but I was renamed Michael Apolloson."

"Why did he do it? What happened?"

"I'd had a heart attack and was old before my time and only had a few months to live at most. I'd been praying that James wouldn't grieve so badly when I died. One of the things James wanted to try was the ordination ritual, to see if he could take over from his grandfather and it was during the ritual that Apollo possessed him. He asked me what I would wish for if I could have anything and I asked for James' happiness. I guess the only way Apollo could make James happy was to make it so that I could share his life, so that's what he did. And the first time the spartan partner bond hit me I fell head over heels in love all over again" he finished with a soft smile, grasping James' fingers where his hand sat casually on the settee cushion.

Pete and Stuart looked at each other. "When they finally have kids do you reckon George'll want to present them?" they asked. James shrugged. "Ask him, I'd never force him to, the temple's freaky enough without feeling overly pressured into it."

They asked and George pondered for a moment. "Probably" he answered. "After all, Apollo gave me one of my dad's back, it'd be rude not to, wouldn't it?"

"Greg'll go ape-shit if his son's presentation is the first thing he sees" Pete said softly to James. "Why don't you come along to Gabriel's presentation then, or else take him to worship?" James replied. "Either that or get some people ready to hold him back. That's what I chose for Mike, for better or worse, when we presented George. I asked one of my dads and my eldest brother to be on hand to grab him."

They considered for a moment. "If it's okay with you, we'll bring Greg to the presentation" Stuart said after a short discussion between themselves. "When'll it be?"

"I need some practise, I've never drawn a sword, I don't want to make a mistake when I" Mike began. "Honey, you're not supposed to talk about that, remember?" James interrupted pointedly. "Oh, yeah" Mike said a little bashfully. "I need to go and practise" he repeated lamely, "I'll tell you next week, if that's okay?"

"Yeah" Pete said, "that's good. Anyway, about next week, do you want to come up to ours? Drop George off in the morning then come round for supper?"

"You sure?" James asked. "If we both come we'll have to bring the rugrats" he said. Stuart laughed. "Yeah, it's fine, we'll see you next week" he said. "You can tell us more about the temple if you would and Apollo. I have to admit I've never really taken a great deal of interest in it."

"Yeah, okay and you can tell us about church, if there's a good one nearby we might join you every so often" Mike suggested. They looked surprised but Mike shrugged. "I was born a catholic and some things don't really change that much" he pointed out. "It'd be nice."

They shook hands and said goodbyes and Pete and Stuart had to virtually prise Greg away from George before they got in their car and drove off. After waving goodbye George looked at his dads and baby brother. He yawned widely. "Is your room tidy?" James asked him. George frowned. "It is mostly but I think we broke my bookcase" he admitted, blushing and yawning again. "Your bookcase?" Mike asked incredulously. "How on earth did you manage that?"

George kept blushing but explained, "we were dancing and Greg kind of tripped over and I tried to catch him but we kind of hit the bookcase a bit and stuff went everywhere and now I can't get one of the shelves to stay on." Mike did his best to stifle his laughter. "I'll fix it in the morning" he promised, "Go on, get some sleep" he smiled, ruffling his hair.

Once George was safely tucked up in bed James and Mike sat down together with glasses of wine. "His bookcase?" Mike whispered into his glass, beginning to chuckle. James raised his eyebrows. "Yeah, that's a new one on me too" he laughed back. Presently, James put some music on and he and Mike danced together, embracing tightly in the middle of the floor as they kissed. Soon Mike started to chuckle again. "What's so funny this time?" James asked him.

"I was just thinking, George put music on earlier on and we've just put some on now and I was just thinking of my first time. God it was years ago now, the school friend I was with had some American relatives and had just been given a record player and a record and he put that on. I don't know why it's just come back to me now but I can still remember the tune. My friend was called Steve and I don't even remember what he looked like anymore but I can remember the record he played."

"What was it?" James asked. Mike shook his head. "I admit that and I'll be showing my age in more ways than one" he grinned.

"Come on, honey, I know how old you are. I want to know how old you were when you had your first time. Please?" James pleaded, grinning. "Okay, just for you but promise me you're not going to laugh" Mike whispered and James pouted. "Promise, honey" he said in a silly voice that made Mike giggle. "Come on, tell me" he continued.

"Rock around the clock by Bill Hayley and the Comets" Mike admitted. James eyes went wide. "And was it brand new, like, just released?" Sheepishly Mike nodded and met James' eyes then suddenly both fell apart in helpless giggles. "I don't know whether to complement you for starting so young or be grossed out that you're old enough to even remember that far back" James gasped through his laughter. "Shut up and dance" Mike mock-growled as he swept James into his arms and twirled him around the room.

When Mike headed to the temple to meet Paul for the first time he really struggled drawing the sword. He couldn't manage the reverse grip at all, dropping it every time he spun it in his hands ready for the downwards thrust. Paul suggested a few weeks' worth of practises and scheduled the presentation for the end of the school holidays. Both Tom and Carl scheduled their own sons' presentations for the same day so as to avoid costly and time-consuming trips to London and Pete, Stuart and Greg gladly accepted an invite to attend.

Greg and George continued their relationship at their respective houses, visiting each other over the weekends whilst school still met and then on a daily basis when the long summer holidays began. They were both young and naive and consequently learned and explored together. After overcoming his embarrassment George found he had the courage to ask his dads questions and they did their best to answer them sensitively. James and Mike gradually realised from his innocent enquiries that most of the time he and Greg didn't attempt anything more erotic than kissing and massages.

Mike also accepted that he'd been far too hasty in his judgements of the boys' first day together, especially when details of their time together began to filter out. They had been walking around the harbour together and George had asked to visit the bookshop so Mike took his eldest son while the younger boys stayed with James. To Mike's surprise, George didn't head for the children's books as normal but instead looked at the shelf of poetry books. He kept picking them up, looking at the price and sighing and after a while it seemed to Mike that the boy was on the verge of tears so he decided to ask what was up.

"It was Greg's idea" George whispered to his dad, "we sit together and read poems to each other. He said his dads read to each other all the time. But I've only got one poem book and we've almost finished it and I wanted to buy another but I've not got enough pocket money." He sniffled a bit and looked as if he wanted to cry. Mike was stunned for a second but hid his surprise and smiled. "Why don't you pick the one you'd really like and I'll buy it for you?" he offered. George's face lit up like it was Christmas morning. "Really?" he asked. "But I thought you didn't like us spending time together?"

"I just want you to be happy" Mike whispered, pulling him into a hug. "Now pick a book and we'll go and find your brothers." George picked a book and Mike paid for it and presently they rejoined the rest of the family on the harbour. James was as surprised as Mike. "Poems?" he whispered. Mike shrugged. "That's what he told me" he answered.

The boys spent many of their days swimming, surfing and enjoying the facilities offered to the many tourists that visited their town. They were both amazingly sensible and knew better than to make any overt gestures in public. It was at Greg's house over supper one evening that James said to the pair, "I hope you guys are being careful when you're outside, people can be nasty to gay boys."

"Don't worry James" Greg answered, "we know."

George nodded. "We're really careful, no one would even guess that we're," he stuttered to a halt. "You're what?" Stuart asked him. "I don't know what word to use to explain what Greg and I are to each other" George explained.

"You've got a few choices" Pete answered him, "Partners, lovers, boyfriends, it's up to you."

Greg frowned. "I think partners sounds like you should live together" he said, "and lovers sounds too grown up and old fashioned." He looked at George and they smiled, hands snaking towards each other and fingers intertwining as they sat at the dinner table. "Boyfriends" they said together.

It was later in the summer, on a sultry August evening, barely a week before they were due at the temple for Gabriel's presentation that George asked his dads something that had clearly been playing on his mind. "Greg and I were talking yesterday" he began the conversation after his brothers were all in bed one evening, "and we want to try something but we've both think it might hurt if we do it wrong so he's going to ask his dads about it and I said I'd ask you."

"What is it you want to try, Georgie?" James asked.

George blushed scarlet and twisted his fingers nervously. "Er, it's difficult to say out loud and I'm not sure I've got the words right anyway, can I whisper it to you dad James?" he asked and James nodded. The boy leaned into his dad's ear and whispered a few words and James grinned. "I know what you mean and I'd hoped you'd be sensible enough to ask me first" he said. "Grown-ups call it different things but it's mainly referred to as anal sex."

Mike choked on the mouthful of coffee he'd just taken and looked over at his partner and eldest son with something akin to shock flashing over his face but James gave him a warning glare not to interrupt. "And yes, you're right, it can really hurt if you do it wrong and you're still both a little young to try it but if you must then there's a couple of things you need. First, some special gel, Mike and I have got some in our bedroom, I'll give you a tube of it. And you need these" he wiggled his fingers. "For the first few times just use your fingers and lots of gel. You need to have been to the loo first and you also should wash properly otherwise you'll both get stinky fingers but when you're ready use lots of gel and just push one finger inside very slowly and wiggle it around. Do that for a few goes before you try two fingers or your penis. And if Greg says stop then you've got to stop straight away because it can hurt quite badly."

"Er, Greg was going to do it to me first" George whispered bashfully. "In that case he needs to know that if you tell him to stop you mean it. And I want you to promise me to stop him immediately it hurts at all, even a little bit, okay?"

"I promise dad" he assured him. The boy kissed both of his dads goodnight and went upstairs. James followed him and found him a tube of K-Y jelly. George giggled and blushed shyly but took it anyway and James went back downstairs to Mike's disapproving glare.

"He's ten" he muttered.

"He's a partnered spartan" James replied.

"But he's ten" Mike repeated, "and you're telling him the ins and outs of" he paused. "Why, James?" he asked, confusion and grief both plainly evident in his voice.

"Because the boys are going to play and I don't want them to hurt themselves by not understanding something" James said. "We're not going to be able to stop them playing so the least we can do is make sure they're safe." Mike just shook his head. He looked almost defeated, depressed even. James hugged him close. "I know, honey" he said. "He's our little boy and he's growing up. I'd rather he hadn't asked but I couldn't just refuse to tell him, that'd be cruel in the extreme and irresponsible too. I don't want Greg's dads accusing us of withholding information that could have prevented Greg from getting injured. Now come on, have a good cry, get it out of your system" he finished softly and Mike burst into tears.

It was perhaps half an hour later when the telephone rang and James went to answer it as Mike was still tearful and choked with emotions. "Hi Pete" Mike heard him say. "Yeah, George asked too" he said after a moment, continuing, "I told him to use lube and his fingers and promise me to stop as soon as it hurt at all. I know! I wish he hadn't either but I couldn't just forbid it, look how far forbidding things got us the last time we tried it. No, I didn't think I needed to, I mean, they're both virgins but if you think? Yeah, I guess, it's not like they'll ever be with anyone else, is it? Cheers, thanks, bye."

Mike listened to the conversation with surprise. When James put the receiver down he asked, "They don't mind?" he asked. James smiled. "Greg asked him almost exactly the same thing that George whispered to me. I think they've both talked about it for a long time and planned together what they were going to ask us. I suspect they're going to compare notes tomorrow."

"What exactly did he say to you?" Mike said. James leaned over and whispered and Mike started to chuckle. "I'm so glad he asked you and not me, honey, I don't think I could have kept a straight face" he admitted as James joined in the laughter.

The following day saw George and Greg meet at George's house again. As soon as they were inside they embraced and kissed passionately and began to make their way hand in hand upstairs. "George, Greg" James called from the hallway. The boys both turned around. "Please promise me you'll stop as soon as it hurts, `cos it's going to, you know that don't you?" Both nodded bashfully. "And remember what I told you last night, George, today you need to stick with fingers, okay?" They nodded again and Greg started to blush.

"No need to be embarrassed Greg, I spoke with Pete last night after you were in bed, he phoned me" James said and the boy blushed scarlet. "I reckon you probably know what you're doing but please be careful, don't hurt each other, please? Promise me?"

Greg swallowed and in a tiny voice whispered, "we promise." They both stayed frozen on the staircase, staring at James for the longest time. "Well go on then, don't you have plans for today?" he grinned in the end and the boys scampered up the stairs, laughing. James heard various doors banging and then the bathroom door lock and the shower turn on, amidst much giggling. He felt a little pensive as he turned back to where Mike and the younger children sat and played on the patio at the back of the kitchen. Mike met his eyes, nodded in understanding and pulled him into a hug. "Shh" he whispered as they both let a few silent tears fall.

The pair were quiet most of the day, with occasional snatches of music from one CD or another the only evidence that they were in the house at all. Lunchtime saw George sneak into the kitchen and get the plate of sandwiches and cans of pop that James had left out for him to take upstairs. They showered again and Greg left late in the afternoon after hugs and kisses were exchanged at the door. Once he'd gone James turned to his eldest son. "Well?" he asked. George didn't speak but instead hugged his dad tightly. "Thanks dad James" he whispered, smiling softly.

Five days later the day of Gabriel's presentation arrived and Mike was, surprisingly, quite calm. He'd become competent, if not comfortable, with the sword and the whole family was heading to London for the three presentations. Tom was to present his son, Matthew and Carl was to present Hugh. Tom had also had some practise sessions with a sword but Carl hadn't needed any as Hugh was his second son. As they drove, George was panicking. "If I don't want to watch, can I close my eyes?" he asked.

"Honey, you're going to present your own sons, you said so yourself. If you can't watch and you know what to expect, how do you think Greg'll feel? He doesn't know anything about it. He's never been in the temple, never ever. You need to be brave for him, okay?" The boy sniffled. "Okay" he replied, his voice tight with nervous anxiety. Driving behind them were Stuart and Pete with Greg in the back of their car. George had wanted to travel with them but James had firmly refused, on the grounds that he may let something slip about the presentation that he wasn't permitted to talk about outside the temple. George had thrown a tantrum but James remained firm. "No, George, you're travelling with us." Mike, on seeing how nervous his eldest son was, reflected on the wisdom of keeping tabs on him – it would have been certain that Greg would pester him for details after seeing how scared he was of going to the temple that morning.

It was a strange feeling, Mike mused, when they got to the temple and he received a sword belt. Tom's partner, Clive, Carl's partner, Winston and Alex's partner, Daniel, were all human and were refused even a plain belt. Daniel had come because Alex was newly gestating, only two weeks in but he already found it difficult to drive. "You don't need to come inside, please, wait out here?" Mike overheard Alex say to his lover. "Alex" he interrupted, "Might it not be better if he comes in today with you to hold his hand rather than having the presentation of his own son the first thing he sees?" he said, phrasing it as a question rather than a statement. Alex nodded. "You think?" he asked, "you'll have a better insight than I do" he smiled and Mike nodded. "Yeah, let him come in, if he's willing" Mike replied.

Gabriel's presentation was first since, even though he'd never done one himself, he and James were the most experienced. The two other babies, Matthew and Hugh, were kept in the foyer with Tom and Winston respectively. Winston remained outside since he would only come in for his son's presentation, Tom so that Clive could see what was about to happen and prepare himself a little. Phil and Si were on hand to grab Tom's partner and Alex kept a tight hold of Daniel's hand as Mike and James began the ritual.

It felt strange to Mike to see James lay Gabriel in the middle of the bloody altar and watch him retreat with a nervous David and a largely oblivious Andrew. George was stood to one side clinging to Greg and Greg's fathers were hovering at the back of the room as Mike scanned it in the smoky darkness, picking out all the familiar faces.

Even though he was retired and very elderly, Paul had been granted special permission to be priest for his three great-grandson's presentations and in a warbling but confident voice he asked Mike the questions that triggered a raft of painful memories. "You claim this boy to be a son of Sparta" Paul asked. In a trembling voice Mike replied, "yes, I do."

"Do you know what Apollo requires from those who take the spartan name in vain?"

"Yes I do" Mike said again.

"And should your claim be proven false do you have the strength to do what is necessary?"

Mike's hands were trembling badly and his voice was barely more than a whisper as he said for the third time, "Yes I do." Paul leaned over and whispered in his ear, "deep breath, turn the sword just like I showed you, calm now Mike, calm" and almost as if in slow motion, watching himself from one side he twisted the sword, raised it and pointed the deadly bronze weapon at little Gabriel, now crying on the altar. He half-wondered what the reaction of Greg, or Clive, or any of the others might be but he was unable to think beyond keeping tight hold of the sword blade, suddenly praying with all his strength that he and Gabriel were both properly Spartan, suddenly dreading what might happen if it was a one-time gift from Apollo and not a true change.

Before he could do anything or act on these most dreadful fears, Paul continued with the ritual, putting his hands on his own sword hilts and falling to one knee as Mike froze in the position he'd seen James assume three times and never imagined he'd have agreed to take in his worst nightmares.

"Mighty Apollo" the crowd began speaking and Mike joined in a second after the others, trying to remember the prayer he'd been forbidden to say until this moment. "We thank you for your divine intervention. We most humbly beg that you identify and claim as your own the sons of Sparta here present and accept as a sacrifice those who claim your parentage falsely." He finished the prayer and took a deep breath, wincing as his filaments began to emerge but even this pain and discomfort couldn't distract him from his son and he noticed, with immense relief that Gabriel's filaments also emerged as a tiny, thin white string. He began to relax as Paul leaned over and grasped the tendril between his thumb and forefinger and the little boy let out and ear-splitting scream and began to wail.

"Apollo you bless us with your gift and your presence, hold us in your arms we pray" Paul began to pray. "Hera your curse is our dignity and identity, look with mercy upon us we pray. Zeus we present this our brother Gabriel Michaelson as a true son of Sparta and worthy by all present to be called kin."

"Worthy by all present to be called kin" everyone repeated together. Paul then got to his feet and let go of his swords. "Son of Sparta" he said to Mike, "Lower your sword and recognise your brother" and then gave him an uncharacteristic grin before picking the baby off the altar, handing him to James and then helping Mike to sheath the sword.

He walked over to his family, meeting James' eyes for a long moment. James had tears standing in them. "You okay?" Mike asked him, taking Gabriel back and offering him milk in the hope that it would stop him crying. James shook his head. "I've never had to do anything so hard as watch you then" he whispered. "It's done now, honey" Mike smiled, kissing him, "relax, it's all over." James wiped his eyes as Mike said to little David, "and how are you, sweetie?" David sniffled. "I was scared, Mike" he whimpered, "but I didn't cut my finger this time" he continued more brightly, holding his hand up to show Mike, obviously remembering his last trip, when Andrew was presented.

"How were Greg and Clive and Daniel?" Mike asked presently. James pointed to George, cuddling Greg tightly as he sobbed and behind him Clive holding his head in his hands, muttering to himself as Phil talked to him in low whispers. Daniel appeared to be arguing with Alex in low tones near the door. Just then Paul came over. "Mike, you need to swap swords with Carl, he's going to present Hugh next." Mike handed over the heavy, ornamental blade and received an ordinary sword in return and Carl nipped out into the lobby, coming back in with Winston and Hugh. The same ritual was followed for baby Hugh and after that Matthew was presented by Tom.

Later, upstairs in one of the large meeting rooms a lovely hot buffet lunch had been prepared for the large family gathering. There was a selection of vegetarian food and snacks but most of the dishes seemed to be meat-based, specifically beef, taken from the temple's sacrificial offerings. You could tell, Mike, realised, who accepted Apolline worship and who struggled with it by the food they took from the table. James, his brothers and parents had all eagerly ladled themselves large portions of the tasty-looking beef stew that was on offer. Winston, on the other hand, had a plate containing nothing but salad and potato crisps and Pete and Stuart's plates were still empty. As he browsed the food himself, Mike got the chance to talk to Stuart and Pete who hovered near the table somewhat nervously, inspecting everything but not taking any of it. "You guys okay?" he asked as he picked up the ladle for the stew.

"I'd forgotten quite how" Stuart paused, lowering his still-empty plate, "primal it was. You came and did this, even though you were a catholic, even though you knew what would happen?" He seemed baffled that Mike had voluntarily presented his son. "Apollo changed me, Stuart, he gave me the ability to bear Gabriel, what was I supposed to do, refuse to honour him? He's my god. Shit, did I just say that?" he asked, stunned at himself, reeling at what he'd just confessed.

James was stood not far away hoping for a second helping of stew and he heard the conversation. "Yep" he said, "you're a true believer alright" he smiled. "Stuart, it's not that difficult to understand, not really. If you accept that Apollo's real and still exists and is divine then you're going to do whatever you need to do to revere and thank him."

"But what does that mean for Christians? I've always believed there's only one God" Pete protested from nearby. "James, I can't accept Apollo is divine, if he exists at all. And I'm reluctant even to eat any of this stuff, I mean, the bible has quite a lot to say about eating food offered to idols, I just can't bring myself to touch it."

Mike shrugged. "I really do believe that Apollo exists and that he changed me. I was really honestly truly human, with a mum and dad and yet I became emergent and carried Gabriel to term, so there's only two options – either there's more than one God and Christ and Apollo are both divine or else there are different ways in which God manifests Himself. Either Apollo's divine in his own right or he's an aspect of the one God, there's no other option, at least not one that I can see. And as for the food, whichever way we get it, the animals still have to be killed. I know it's important to some people but for me, I can't see that it's a big deal" he finished.

"I can see what you're saying but shit, Mike, could you really have killed Gabriel in cold blood if he'd turned out to be ordinarily human?" Stuart said, shaking his head in horror-struck disbelief. Mike drew a sharp intake of breath and looked away. "If Gabriel hadn't been spartan it'd mean I wasn't either" he began, speaking softly, "and I shouldn't have been permitted to wear the sword belt. If we'd both been human then I would have to kill him and then myself." Stuart took a step back and looked at Mike with a sick expression.

James, catching his horror, interrupted, "Stuart, that wouldn't have happened, Apollo granted my happiness, how could he have gotten my hope up and then in a split second robbed me of my life partner and youngest son? He wouldn't have done that, Stuart" he said with an awe-inspiring confidence blossoming on his face. "He's our god and he may ask a lot but he wouldn't have agreed to make me happy if he knew he'd end up taking that happiness away, he wouldn't have done that to us."

Greg and George were still holding hands and as the conversation between their parents dwindled they came over. "Dad James," George asked, "do filaments normally feel like that when they come out?" James shrugged. "No, mostly if they come out properly and not just through the ritual they're sorer. And of course, in the ritual they're only out a few minutes. When you're emergent they're there for a week growing, then either about ten days whilst they fall out or nine months if you get them fertilised. The ritual's nothing compared to that" he finished, looking at his son with amusement. "Why, has it put you both off?"

"I really don't want to become emergent" George answered, shaking his head. Stuart laughed. "Well if you don't fancy contending with your filaments just yet then you know what you have to do" he said to his son and George. "Stop exchanging bodily fluids and you might be spared, for the moment at least but if you insist on having sex then it's going to happen sooner rather than later."

George and Greg blushed furiously. "It might not" Greg said.

Mike then laughed. "Just don't complain when we tell you we told you so" he finished.

Mike, Pete and Stuart talked at some length about the ritual and Apolline faith, eventually agreeing to disagree. "We'll come to any of your family do's and we'll come to any presentations of Greg and George's sons but I can't accept the need for sacrifice" Stuart said. "Apollo's been worshipped like this since ancient times, Stuart" Mike answered, "and who am I to argue with so much history? But let's not let it spoil our friendship, eh?"

The trip to London had been a long one and had taken up most of the school-holiday Friday that the presentations had been scheduled for. After a brief discussion the families agreed that Greg would travel back with Mike and James and their family and Stuart and Pete decided to spend the weekend in the capital.

"We'll see you on Sunday" James said as they made ready to leave mid-afternoon, hoping to miss the worst of the rush-hour traffic. "Yeah, thanks for agreeing to look after Greg" Pete smiled. James raised his eyebrows and looked over at Greg and George who were smooching in a corner. "I don't think he'll take that much looking after if I'm truthful" he grinned. Pete laughed. "No, I guess not! See you. Bye Greg" he finished, raising his voice. His son looked up, flush-faced. "Bye Pete" he said before turning back to George again, licking his lips before going in for more. "We won't have to worry about him missing us, at least there's that" he laughed again before they all got into cars and went their various ways.

Religious issues notwithstanding, Mike, James, Stuart and Pete ended up quite good friends and laughed about becoming each others' in-laws as well as having in depth discussions on the evenings after George and Greg had spent the day at one house or the other. The school holidays finished and the boys went back to spending just Saturdays together as they went into their final year in primary school. They celebrated their eleventh birthdays just a week apart in early September, throwing a joint party and disco and inviting all their classmates. They enjoyed themselves tremendously but both had to be careful not to show their feelings for each other and instead pretend to just be best friends. To Mike's surprise they actually managed it quite well. "We knew we'd end up being bullied and all sorts if our friends found out" George explained later in the evening after they'd arrived home from the leisure centre hall they'd booked.

It wasn't long after their birthdays that the morning everyone had dreaded finally arrived. The alarm clocks woke the household at the normal time that October morning shortly after Andrew's second birthday, George to go to school, James to work in a small cafe on the sea front and so that Mike could get Gabe and Andrew dressed and fed in time to give David a sufficiently long day's schooling. But as everyone was waking up and dressing and generally going about their morning routine a howl of agony echoed from George's room.

"Honey, what is it?" James asked, rushing in. George pulled the waist of his pyjama bottoms down to the bottom of his stomach to show the feathery ends of newly emerged filaments. James sighed. "It's no use crying, I told you this would happen" he said.

"But they hurt!" George exclaimed through his tears. "I know they do but you'll have to grit your teeth and bare it." James would have said more but just then the phone rang. He ran to get it and his voice could be heard echoing up the stairs.

"Hi Pete. I guessed they might have, George has too, just this morning. Yeah, I think he really didn't realise what they'd feel like, he let out a right howl. A tummy bug, probably. It helps that next week's half term. I remember you saying. Well no matter how big a tantrum George throws, he's way too young, there's no way we'll allow him to do it. I don't care what he says, I'm not being a granddad at forty bloody years old. Yeah, okay, if I can get him to move I guess he'll speak to Greg later. Bye"

He came back upstairs. By this time Mike was up and had seen George and had heard most of James' conversation. "Who was that?" George sniffled.

"Do you really have to ask?" James asked, "it was one of Greg's dads, guess what's emerged from his belly button this morning?"

"Him too?" George asked, suddenly so excited that he stopped crying. "Can I see him?"

"Not a chance! You're staying apart and you're staying off school until they separate and fall out. You two being together would be so not-wise right now and Pete agrees. Greg wants to see you but Pete reckons he'd persuade you to fertilise him and you two are not becoming parents only weeks after your eleventh birthdays, that'd be insane."

"What if we stay with you, not do anything, just talk? Can't we at least telephone each other?" George asked, bursting into tears again.

"Yeah, Pete already suggested you two talk on the phone. You can compare notes on how much pain you're in if nothing else. He's going to ring later on, once he manages to find something Greg can wear and persuade him to get dressed."

George didn't initially want to get dressed either. Mike persuaded him to put on tracksuit bottoms and throw an unfastened shirt around his shoulders but he whimpered with every step he took as the newly emerged, feathery ended filaments wafted in the breeze. "I've got no sympathy, you knew this'd happen" James said.

"Don't be too hard on him, James" Mike interrupted, "don't you remember how sore yours were?"

"He knew what'd trigger them, Mike, he didn't have to go and have sex."

"Yes he did, James" Mike answered. "You said yourself, they're spartan with a partner bond, it was inevitable."

"You've changed your tune. What happened to all the protesting you've done every time they've disappeared upstairs together?" James asked. "Look" he continued, "we can't discuss this now, I'll be late for work. Don't forget to call in sick for him, say it's a tummy bug or something" he reminded Mike, "and I'll see you later."

Mike called the school and informed them and the secretary was gracious and quite sweet. "Aw, poor dear, he's the second one we've had this morning, I hope it's nothing catching" she said. "I'm sure he'll be fine" Mike said, stifling the urge not to laugh, "he just needs to rest at home, I think."

That afternoon a tearful George telephoned Greg. "Hi baby" he sniffled when Greg answered the phone. "George!" Greg greeted him enthusiastically, then whimpered.

"What's up?"

"I sat down wrong and my teeshirt touched the ends where they're sticking out. They feel horrible and they look all odd and feathery."

"I'm stood up, I don't think I could sit down, it would squash them too much. But every time someone walks past the air makes them move and that hurts too."

"I want to see you"

"I want to see you but dad James said no. He said he thought you'd make me fertilise you."

"Don't you want to be a dad?"

"Course I do, Greg but I want to finish school first. And I want us to live together first and be able to do whatever we like whenever we like without worrying that someone would catch us or hear us."

"Will you tell me what you'd like to do, George?" Greg suddenly asked, a smile in his voice.

"Greg, don't be rude!" George giggled. "I can't say it, one of my dads might be listening!"

"Come on, George, whisper."

"Actually, I'd like to kiss you, I think. That's mostly what I want to do today anyway."

"I was going to say kissing's no fun but it is. I think I want to kiss you too"

"I'm missing you lots, baby"

"I'm missing you too George"

They sat and held the phone and just cried with each other for a while, then Greg said, "Pete says I've got to hang up the phone."

"Will you phone me tomorrow?"

"Course I will. Love you George"

"Love you too, baby" George finished, sobbing again as he placed the receiver back on the cradle.

Mike was there and he put gentle arms around George's shoulder and held him as he cried. "Your hormones are probably getting to you" he said, "it's not just missing Greg, you know, that's making you want to cry. James got really tearful when he was emergent and I did too. It's okay to cry, Georgie, I bet your mind's all full of stuff and you're all confused too, isn't it?" George nodded silently. "Listen" Mike said, "let me rearrange the settee cushions, I bet I can make it so you're comfortable sitting down. And do you think you'd like a hot chocolate or something?"

George smiled a brief, watery grin. "Thanks, dad Mike" he said softly.

Mike kissed him gently on the forehead. "I don't like it when one of my boys is hurting, sweetheart. Neither of us do, it hurts us a bit when we see any of you cry. That's part of what being a dad means, you know."

"Dad James wasn't hurt, he just seemed mad this morning" George sniffled.

Mike shook his head. "He's not mad, he's just a bit surprised and he really doesn't want you to miss out on your childhood. If you became a dad now you'd have to grow up properly and I think also James thinks he's too young to be a granddad – that bothers him more than anything. He's not mad, he's upset but he doesn't want to cry so he's being a little bit angry instead. He's not really angry at you, sweetheart, I think he's more angry at himself. Come on, sit down and I'll make you that hot chocolate" he finished, ruffling George's hair and making him smile before rearranging the cushions and helping him to carefully rest on the settee.

It was three days of `tummy bug' later that George's school phoned the family home. "We wondered if you or George's father could come in to a meeting?" a stern-sounding headmistress asked. "Of course, why?" Mike wondered. "There have been some revelations concerning your nephew and another boy but it'd be best if we discussed it in person, please? Can you come this afternoon?"

"Of course" Mike sighed dejectedly, replacing the phone. Mike, of course, was looking after all four boys and had to wait until James was home from work, so it was nearly three o'clock when he got to the school. He went into the head's study and found her sat there with an official looking woman in a dark suit and the school secretary.

"We're waiting for one other person, Mr Hill, if you could take a seat please?" she said. Only a few minutes passed until Stuart, Greg's father, was ushered into the room. Mike's eyebrows rose. "What are you doing here?" he exclaimed.

"You know each other then?" the head asked, continuing, "good, that makes this slightly easier. Greg and George have been causing staff a little concern for a while now but since you both phoned in sick for them and took them out of school two of their friends have had the courage to come forward and report some very disturbing activities."

She paused, took her glasses off and sighed. "Mr Hill, Mr Davidson, first of all it seems to be fairly common knowledge amongst their classmates that they are very close but we have reason to believe that their activities are more disturbing than simply a friendship. We believe that George and Greg might be engaging in some sort of sexual activity together," she stated.

Silence descended over the office. Mike sighed and Stuart rubbed his eyes. "You knew!" the secretary exclaimed before a stern glance from the head teacher silenced her. Stuart looked at Mike who nodded, then said, "yeah, we knew. The boys have actually been really honest with us." He shrugged. "We tried to stop them but short of physical restraints there was no way we could keep them from each other, they're head over heels in love."

The head teacher shook her head. "They're breaking the law and committing a crime and you could be charged with aiding and abetting child abuse. In love? They're children, they don't know what that means. I don't have to emphasise, I hope, how serious this is? And now a mysterious illness that they've contracted simultaneously, just as these horrific revelations have come to light? Now I don't care what excuses you have, we've arranged social services" here the so-far silent, suited woman nodded, "to interview each of the boys. You'll have visits in the morning."

"But you can't!" Mike exclaimed, jumping up. "If you want to be arrested for affray, please feel free to continue" the head said implacably. "I'm a solicitor" Mike said, "you can't do this."

"Gay sex and child abuse, Mr Hill? Oh, I think we can. We'll see you tomorrow at your respective homes."

"We're legally entitled to forty eight hours notice" Mike said, "and we can specify the venue. It's not like you're charging us with anything yet."

"Where do you want to meet? The school?" she asked. Mike shook his head. "I'll need to make some calls. Let me get back to you." He and Stuart left the school together. "What do you have in mind?" he asked Mike, obviously panicking. "The temple building and the London law firm that represents spartan interests" Mike replied, "I've had a few dealings with them, mainly for the boy's paperwork but also over some work they've outsourced to me, they're quite good. We need them involved, if they meet the boys at the moment they'll see their filaments and spartans will be outed and all hell will break loose. Shit this is a mess."

"How's George?" Stuart asked. Mike relaxed slightly, happy to talk about other subjects, if only for a second. "Tearful, mostly. He's pining for Greg and in a lot of discomfort. What about Greg?" Stuart shrugged. "The same. He's furious we're keeping them apart."

"Listen, I need to start making some calls" Mike sighed. "I'll let you know what's going on later. Would London be okay for you?"

Stuart nodded. "Better than home" he sighed. "They're not going to be exposed, are they? Photos all over the fucking tabloids?"

"God I hope not. Speak to you later" Mike said exasperatedly.

The school were surprised to be invited to a London legal firm, more surprised still to be faced with a team of hot-shot lawyers. The whole family had rallied around and had gotten together a couple of hours before the meeting to discuss what they'd do. Tom, his partner and baby son were there, as were Carl, Winston and their children. Alex was already a month into gestating and wasn't expected to come but to everyone's surprise he'd also shown up with Daniel. "If they're outed I thought it'd be useful for the authorities to see this" he said bravely. "I don't want them to think it's only children."

"You come out and the rest of us'll be exposed" Tom said bluntly. "I know" Alex replied, "but George is our nephew, Tom, if we don't stand up and defend him who the hell will? If they insist on seeing the boys I'm going to join them."

"Do you think they'll want to see us?" Greg asked. He and George had cried floods of tears when they'd found out what was going on but were both acting incredibly bravely and maturely. And, of course, the trip to London had meant that they could see each other and the joy of being together almost obscured the pain they felt from sitting in the car for the long journey from Cornwall to the capital. They hugged and kissed almost constantly from the moment that George joined Greg in his father's car for the drive and were still apparently welded together when the lawyers spoke to them.

"I'm sure they will" one of the senior lawyers said. "We're going to start by myself, Winston and one of our legal secretaries meeting them alone. None of us will be blood relatives so they can't claim that particular bias. We'll try initially to persuade them we have your best interests at heart and you're safe and we'll also give them the statements that you wrote. If they don't accept that then we'll get your fathers all to join us. If they still insist on seeing you then Alex has volunteered to come in with you" he explained to the boys.

George grinned a watery smile. "Thanks Uncle Alex" he whispered. "You think we'd let you go through this alone?" he replied back. "There's no way I'd let that happen, not a chance."

The meeting with the legal team seemed to last forever. After an hour or so the secretary emerged. "They want to see the parents" he said and James, Mike, Pete and Stuart nervously trooped after him. George and Greg were sat with the rest of the family, fretting and crying. They were both dressed in tracksuit bottoms, tight teeshirts tied at their waists and loose shirts. Their filaments were stretched wide, almost at their limit and both were in a lot of discomfort. After another hour the secretary emerged again and came to where the family waited. "I'm so sorry" he said, "Greg, George, they're insisting on seeing you."

Alex stood up carefully, his bump visible under his unbuttoned shirt. He too also wore tracksuit bottoms but apart from the loose shirt was bare-chested. He held his hands out to the boys. Greg stood up and grasped it but George started to shake and wail. "I can't do this, they'll know we're not human!" he cried.

"Shh, there's nothing we can do about that, that's why your uncle Alex is going with you" Phil said softly. "Come on, calm down. Your dads are all there already and they'll be more interested in Alex than you, I can almost guarantee it. George, sweetheart, you've got to be brave. You've got the best lawyers and they're going to do their best to protect you."

"Come on, they're waiting for you" the secretary said and slowly, with the air of leading people to the gallows he led the two nervous boys and an almost-as-nervous young man to the main meeting chamber.

It was actually quite a pleasant space. Bright sunshine streamed in and it was decorated in a modern style with muted blues and greens making the primary colour scheme. A long, pinewood boardroom style table dominated the room. At one end sat the social services delegation, two social workers and a local authority legal representative. At the other, George saw his and Greg's parents and their legal team.

As the social workers saw them their faces initially showed relief but that soon switched to puzzlement and defensiveness. "Who are you, what's that?" they said to Alex. Then they looked closely at the boys and noticed their filaments, "and what the hell are they, what have you done to them?" they demanded of no one in particular, continuing to stare at the three standing in the doorway.

The senior lawyer spoke. "I'm going to be blunt" he began. "No more dancing, I'm going to tell you the truth. You were right, by the way, we are trying to conceal something. We're not human. All of us here, with the exception of yourselves and one of my colleagues, are members of a hermaphroditic species called spartan. We didn't want you to see Greg and George today because they've just become emergent, which means they're ready to breed and carry their first child. Alex, with the boys, is George's uncle and he's one month into gestating his first son. The organ you can see protruding from Greg and George's navels is our female reproductive organ before fertilisation. The organ grafted onto Alex's stomach is the same organ once fertilised, In Alex's case it contains a one-month old foetus. Your insistence in pursuing this absurd case has resulted in the exposure of our species and the potential divulgence of a race that has managed to live in secret since our creation twenty five centuries ago. I hope you're happy."

One of the social workers fainted. The other ran, wild-eyed from the room, leaving the nervous legal representative sat alone. The lawyer looked at his secretary. "Go and get some medical help for our friend there" he instructed. He looked at the remaining lady sat at the table. "You seem braver than your colleagues. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine" she stuttered. "Shit, how the hell do we write this one up?" Alex shrugged and spoke, still stood near the doorway. "You insisted on seeing the boys and we knew as soon as you did we'd be outed."

"Your whole race is hermaphroditic?" she asked. The lawyer nodded and answered for the group. "I've gestated twice, carried two sons in a temporary womb like Alex bears. I've also fertilised my life partner twice. One of my sons was stillborn but I have three living children."

"And when you give birth you're like the baby's mother?" she asked softly. "You can feed them, I mean? Sorry, I didn't mean to ask something so personal" she hurried on, blushing, "it's just." Mike took a deep breath. "I'm still breastfeeding my youngest son" he replied to the woman, equally softly, meeting her eyes. She gasped.

George then spoke, still frozen to the same spot he'd been stood in when the social workers had first seen them. "You're not going to take me away from my dads and my Greg, are you?" he sniffled. The woman shrugged non-committally. "I don't know what'll happen. You are having underage sex, after all."

The senior lawyer cleared his throat. "I think you'll find that particular law applies only to humans" he said. "And even if it wasn't limited in that way, it still can't be used to assess spartan partnerships. Our species has what we call a partner bond, a unique genetic connection with one person only and though George and Greg have discovered their bond at an unusually young age it's completely valid. They rely totally on each other and their reliance, their obsession if you will, is totally consuming and life-long. We're not going to let them become parents yet, that wouldn't be fair on either of them, they've got a lot of childhood to experience but we can't separate them, that'd be cruel beyond measure."

The woman shook her head. "God, this is just too much to take in" she said. She looked at the young man who'd been sent to help her friend, who was holding a cold compress to her forehead and helping the zoned-out social worker to sip a glass of water. "I don't know what to say, where to start" she admitted. She sat quietly, shaking her head over and over.

"Look, I hate to rush you but can we finish here?" Mike asked. "Our youngest is only four months old and he's due for a feed."

"You're going to feed him?" the woman repeated back. "Why are you telling me this?" Mike shrugged. "You know about our species. I can't see any point in keeping anything secret, not anymore. You know my oldest son is emergent, you know we're a separate species, and I'm sure you've guessed that James and I are George's biological parents and not just cousins. To be honest with you, I think admitting that Gabriel is still breastfeeding is kind of mild in comparison."

The almost-recovered social worker was helped to her feet and back to her chair. "You're all hermaphrodites?" she began in a soft voice, getting louder as she continued, "you have babies like women as well as fathering them like men? You breast feed your kids, yet you're all gay and you allow sex between your sons when they're barely out of nappies. You're sick the lot of you! I swear to god you're not going to get away with this, you're sick!" she repeated.

The legal representative looked at her. "Try and look at it from their point of view" she said reasonably. "You're sounding like you want to persecute their whole race." She looked at her colleague, met her eyes for a long minute. "No" she said. "Whatever you've got in mind, don't do it, it's not worth it, they're good people."

"But they're not people. They're not human, they're no better than animals!" the social worker exclaimed, getting to her feet, "and I don't want to be in this godforsaken building another second!" She stormed out, following her hysterical colleague. The last woman, the calm one, the legal representative, sighed. "I can't promise what'll happen" she said softly. "I can't promise I can keep this out of the media. I'm so sorry, I really am" and gathering her paperwork she too left the building.

"Fuck" Winston exclaimed. "Jesus, Mary and Joseph, this is a mess."

"If it hits the papers it'll turn into a fucking witch hunt" Alex observed. "Shit, I need to sit down, my stomach's in agony" he continued, lowering himself carefully into a chair.

"Mike, James, what's going to happen?" George asked, walking over to them and carefully hugging them around their shoulders. Greg had gone to his dads and hugged them similarly. Mike leaned over and kissed him on his cheek. "I don't know, son" he admitted. "I really don't."

It didn't take long to find out what was going to happen. The various families had returned to their homes and enjoyed several days of peace and quiet until the Sunday newspapers came out. Several of them had photographs of the office block that held both the temple and the legal offices where the ill-fated meeting had been held. They all had interviews with the two social workers. Others had photographs of the lawyers and one even had an artist's impression of what Alex's bubble and George and Greg's filaments looked like. Mike purchased several different papers, grateful that there weren't any photographs or sketches of him or his family on the front covers but anxious to see how it was being reported.

He and James browsed through the papers dejectedly, worrying what would happen, hoping no concrete evidence would come to light. As they ate their Sunday brunch the telephone rang. It was Phil, one of James' dads and he was blunt. "Put BBC1 on" was all he said.

Mike fumbled with the remote and in seconds the channel came up. Flickering over the screen were images of a young man none of them knew being mobbed by a flock of reporters. He held the hand of his partner, both of whom were in tears and he was clearly emergent. James sat down heavily on the settee, trembling. "Oh fuck" he said, closing his eyes and trying not to hyperventilate. David giggled and began swearing in a sing song voice and neither Mike nor James had the strength to stop him.

The school was closed the following week for a half-term holiday but George didn't feel like enjoying himself. His filaments had almost completely separated and were beginning to fall out and he was morose and irritable. "Not long now, Georgie-boy" Mike tried to cheer him up. "You'll be able to go to school on Monday and see Greg and your other friends just like normal, you'll see." But Mike was a little premature in his prediction of normalcy. Newspapers and the media jumped at the story following the pictures of the emergent young man on the television and late on the Thursday afternoon of that week the school telephoned.

"We've held an emergency staff meeting" the head reported, "and we're telephoning to ask if you would keep George off school for the moment, just until the current situation calms down" she stuttered. Mike was incensed. "You're excluding him from school because we're spartan aren't you?" he snapped.

"So you admit it, you are spartan?" the head retorted. "Of course I fucking admit it," Mike spat, "you know as well as anyone this whole fucking thing only started when you set social services on to us."

"In that case George is permanently expelled. The United Kingdom Education Act only applies to human children. Good day to you" she finished and put the phone down.

Stuart phoned the house not half an hour later. "Greg's been expelled" he said, "have they been in touch with you yet?" James, who'd answered the phone, sighed. "Yeah, they've been in touch. So's George. I don't know what to do, I really don't." Later Tom phoned up. "They've reported Alex's name and ours as being at the meeting, god knows how they got them but they've just read them out on the news" he said, clearly in a flat panic. "Shit James, keep your door locked, there's a fucking riot." After that the phone never stopped. Carl, crying, on a mobile phone as Winston drove furiously, trying to evade the media who pursued them, "if we can lose the cameras we're heading your way, our house was firebombed" he said.

Phil and Si called to say they'd also been driven out of their house after their address was reported on the television. The worst affected was the temple building. Paul called after riot police had surrounded the place. It seemed that the police didn't know whether to stop protesters or help them and were only half-hearted in holding them back. "They're going to be in the temple before the end of the day, I'm sure" he said. "I'm only here to help out, they're short-handed and I'm stuck here, there's no way I can go outside, I'd be lynched."

James and Mike had the television on and were watching the late news, following the events as they unfolded, like some macabre horror story. The cameras showed the riots Paul had told them about, along with one of the senior lawyers James recognised from the ill-fated meeting with social services. He appeared on the steps of the building in an attempt to release a statement. He tried to address the assembled news cameras but his voice was drowned out by chants of "Monster, monster, monster, monster," from the crowd. Then gunshots were heard and the camera shook and the picture was lost as the television station cut back to the studio.

"Shit, granddad!" James hissed, trying to hold his panic together but failing. He dialled the number for the temple but just got an engaged tone. He turned to Mike, who was on his mobile phone to Tom when a shouting started to echo from the street. James went to look through the front window. "Out, out, out!" came the chant. "Shit!" he hissed, tears falling and fear flashing across his face. Fists began to bang on their front door. Then a voice yelled, "Mike, James, hurry, we've got perhaps thirty seconds before they get here!" It was Pete, Greg's dad. Mike flung open the door and ran upstairs to grab the children out of bed. He cradled Andrew and Gabriel, one under each arm and James shepherded George and David as they fled their house, piling into the car Stuart had pulled up outside their front gate. "For godsake, drive!" Mike yelled as soon as they were all in the vehicle. Protesters had started to run up the street and threw stones and bottles at the back of the car.

It was a five-seater vehicle and they were cramped and unable to get safety belts on, squashed in as they were but they were safer on the road than at home. Mike fished his mobile phone out. "We need to tell Carl he can't come to Cornwall" he said, "and we need to find out what's happened to the others."

"And we need to figure out where we can go, we can't just drive in circles" Stuart said. "I thought we'd better come and get you as soon as the riots hit the news. It looks like we just arrived in time." Just then Mike managed to get through to Carl. "Don't come to Cornwall, we've just left a fucking riot behind" he said tersely.

"I haven't the faintest idea" he said next. "Shit, Carl, I don't fucking know, God, let me think a second." There was another pause. "You reckon we'd be okay there? It's better than anything I can think of, God this is a mess." Another pause. "At least it's secluded and we can decide what to do when we get there. Bye."

"What's he suggested?" James asked. "A motorway service station" Mike replied. "It'll be the early hours when we get there. We can rendezvous and decide from there where to go."

"Where am I heading?" Stuart asked from the driver's seat. "Head up the A30 out of Cornwall, towards the motorway" Mike said, "the rest of James' family will meet us at a service station on the motorway. And let us know if you want a break from driving, won't you? You don't have to do the whole trip by yourself."

They met in a dark car park, illuminated only by a faint orange glow from streetlights on a nearby road. Tom, his partner Clive and baby son Matthew were there, as were Phil and Si, Carl, Winston and their children, the older, Simon and new baby, Hugh and a gestating Alex with his partner, Daniel. "Anyone heard from granddad Paul?" James asked as soon as they arrived.

"Shit, didn't you have the radio on?" Tom asked shakily. "Fuck, James, I'm so sorry."

"What? What's happened?" James said.

"The temple was stormed and the police tried to arrest all the priests. Granddad Paul and the others refused to leave and a shouting match ended up with them drawing their swords. And armed police or the army or something had marksmen there, they opened fire and" he stalled, stuttering, his eyes filling up with tears, "shit, James, granddad's dead!" he sobbed.

"Are any of your homes safe?" Mike asked. Phil snorted a half-laugh that held no humour. "Would we be in a fucking car park in the middle of nowhere in the early hours of the fucking morning if we had anywhere else to go?" he asked. "Shit, Mike, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bark at you" he quickly continued with the apology, "but fuck, this is a mess. I don't know what to do."

George shivered sleepily as he hugged Greg, the pain of their remaining few filaments forgotten in the stress and anguish of the situation. "I'm cold, Mike" he complained softly. Mike looked at the service station. "The coffee shop's open twenty four hours. Do you reckon we'd be safe risking it?"

"We're not safe anywhere but I'm so cold and so thirsty I almost don't care" Carl said. "Come on, let's at least sit down for a bit. Kind of a last meal?" he tried to joke but it fell flat.

"Fuck, Carl, after what happened to granddad Paul that really isn't funny" Alex admonished him.

"Sorry" he said contritely.

They trooped into the melamine-decked restaurant and purchased hot chocolates, coffees and various packets of yesterday's cakes and sandwiches before pulling a handful of tables together and sitting down as a group. Andrew and Gabriel were both fast asleep in James' and Mike's arms respectively. Carl's youngest also slept but Tom's son, six-month old Matthew, was awake, restless and hungry.

"Did you bring any bottles?" Phil asked. "No" Tom replied tersely, "we didn't even grab nappies, we've had to stop at a supermarket and Clive's risked going in to buy some stuff but we didn't even think about milk" he explained. Matthew started to wail. "You need to feed him, son" Si said, "either here or in the car, there's nowhere you can hide and we're not safe no matter what we do."

"Someone sit in front of me, shield what I'm doing, at least" Tom asked plaintively before cautiously adjusting his shirt, undoing just a couple of buttons and lifting Matthew up. The child stopped wailing and began slurping noisily, contented. "At least one of us is easily comforted" James observed. Mike snorted softly. "We need a plan, we need somewhere to sleep at least" he said.

"What about the minister of our church? She'd put us up" Winston said suddenly. "Who?" Stuart asked. "Carl and I go to a church where the minister's amazon. I know she'd give us somewhere to stay." He smiled briefly. "If nothing else she might be able to suggest somewhere we could go and claim sanctuary" he said with amusement.

It was dawn when the convoy of vehicles pulled up in central Manchester, on a quiet street perhaps two miles or so from the university building where the metropolitan community church met. A few vehicles were around but people were scarce and largely disinterested in the group of men and children gathering together on the pavement. "It's this house here" Winston said, indicating a large dwelling. They crept up the garden path and rang the doorbell.

Presently, footsteps could be heard and a sleepy woman wearing a dressing gown came to the door. It was Sarah, the minister and it was obvious that they'd woken her up. "What?" she said, bleary-eyed, before registering who it was stood on her doorstep. She took in the group with a glance and said, "What are you doing here? Come in, I don't want anyone to see you" she whispered, hurriedly ushering them inside.

"Did anyone follow you?" she asked, casting her eyes around the group once they were assembled in her kitchen. She put the kettle on as they all gratefully took chairs. "No, we've driven to Birmingham and back" Carl said, "no one knows we're here."

"I don't mean to be rude or anything but why on earth have you come here?" she continued.

Mike shrugged. "Mobs and riots have driven us out of our homes. We've nowhere left to go. We were hoping" he faltered, shook his head and rubbed his bloodshot, sleep-deprived eyes. "We just need somewhere to sleep, please?" he finished, almost crying with exhaustion.

She looked at the group with a critical, though not unsympathetic eyes. "You need food and drink too. Why don't you take the children into the lounge and settle them on the sofas? I'll bring down some blankets and then I'll make you all breakfast."

"If you're caught with us here you'll be as much a target as us" Alex pointed out. He was in a lot of pain and discomfort and winced with every movement. Sarah looked at him, now with sorrow flashing over her face. "You shouldn't be out" she said softly. "If you're seen" she left the thought unfinished.

"Shit, you think I don't know that?" Alex snapped, weary with pain and lack of sleep. "You think I'd have voluntarily have driven all the miles I have tonight if I thought I had a choice?"

"You're going to miscarry if you're not careful" she said in an even quieter voice. "We know" Daniel replied tersely, taking hold of Alex's shoulder and cutting the discussion short as he pulled his gestating lover into a gentle embrace and held him as he cried.

The small children were presently snuggled up in the minister's front room, except for Gabriel who had woken and was hungry. Most were fast asleep on chairs and sofas but Greg and George had sat on the floor in one corner and were locked in an embrace even though they slept. Tom, who'd crept in to check on them, came back and said, "I don't think there's room even for a sliver of paper or something between Greg and George, I've never seen anyone cling to someone else so tightly and still manage to fall asleep." Mike, cradling a thirsty Gabriel, shrugged. "They're in love and terrified" he said, "it'd be odd if they slept apart, if I'm truthful."

Sarah's partner, Gemma, had gotten up by this time. "Grace is still asleep" she said, "but I couldn't stay in bed." At the confusion on the assembled male faces she explained, "our daughter, she's five. We were going to have another but Sarah's not become emergent since that first time, we think she may have only had one tube."

"You're human?" Phil asked. Gemma nodded. "Yeah, I'm one of the bad guys" she joked, "but my daughter's amazon and I'd do anything to protect her" she finished fiercely.

"I'm sorry if I'm being dumb here but I don't know how it works, one tube?" Daniel asked. "As I understand it" Phil began, "though I'm sure Gemma and Sarah will correct me if I get this wrong," he continued, smiling and nodding to the two women, "amazon's become emergent much the same as spartans but instead of a fan of filaments the organ develops into a long thin tube that carries a single male sperm cell up into a woman's womb." He looked at Gemma, who nodded. "Yeah, it's a bit more complicated than that but you've got it, more or less. It's much more discrete than you guys, at any rate" she said, having just noticed Alex's womb. "You have to hide away the whole time?" she asked.

"Yeah" Mike answered, "and you end up climbing the walls, for about three months solid we're just stuck in bed and if we even just try and sit up properly the chances are gravity will split the womb and cause us to miscarry."

"But it's worth it" James said, stroking Gabriel's hair. The baby ignored James' hand and continued to suckle noisily.

"A thirsty little boy" Sarah smiled, looking at Mike closely. "Mike, as far as I remember, when you came to church the first time around you were human but it's clear you're not now. What happened?"

"A heart attack and months to live, shortly followed by Apollo. You could say it was divine intervention" he joked. "I was renamed when I was changed, Mike Apolloson" he finished.

"A modern conversion?" Sarah asked and Mike nodded.

"Not that this isn't fascinating" Tom interrupted, "but I'm dropping on my feet. Do you mind if I crash on your floor?" he asked.

"No, of course not!" Sarah said, "you can have the spare bed if you want." Tom shook his head and looked at his younger, gestating brother, still sobbing into Daniel's shoulder. "Thanks all the same but I think Alex needs the bed" he said quietly. Gemma cleared her throat. "Before you do, we really need to shift your cars. It's too obvious, them all sat outside our house. Is it okay if I pinch your car keys and move them to the back streets?"

"Yeah, carry on" Simon said, fishing the keys out of his pocket, "we wouldn't want to cause any more problems than we already have, it's kind of you to do this" he finished, yawning widely.

Within half an hour parents and children were all fast asleep and cars safely hidden on back streets, away from the house. Sarah, Gemma and little Grace went about their daily routine as normal, the only concession to their visitors was to keep the living room and spare bedroom doors firmly closed. It wasn't until mid-afternoon that the children woke up and Mike began cooking a loaf-full of toast to share out.

"You okay?" Sarah asked as she came in to see Mike carrying a tray with a plate full of toast and half a dozen mugs of tea.

"Yeah, thanks" Mike smiled. "It's good of you to do this, god, it's been hard."

Sarah looked forlorn. "I'm so sorry to be the one to break the news to you but I think it's going to get harder." She picked the Daily Telegraph from her breakfast table and handed it to Mike. The headline stood out starkly. "Spartan's to be taken into protective custody" it read, continuing in smaller print, "mobs and riots across the country and thirty seven deaths have prompted the government to agree to the unprecedented action of taking all spartans into custody for their own protection. All spartans, together with any human men suspected of being spartan, will be kept in government secured locations in order to quell the violence that has spread nationwide over the last twenty four hours. Government ministers have expressed regret at having to take such action though it appears there are plans to integrate spartan children into the foster care system in an attempt to keep the youngsters out of prison. All spartans are asked to report to their local police stations as soon as possible. Members of the public are asked not to take any direct action but instead to telephone the police on 999 if they wish to report any spartans or suspected spartans who do not come forward."

"Oh shit, god, no, shit, shit" Mike gasped. "Fuck they can't do this, what about human rights?" he continued.

"Read on, there's more" Sarah urged him and sickened, Mike did as he was bid. "Amnesty International have already condemned the protective custody route, branding it inhuman and barbaric but in response, government ministers quoted a statement in which the spartan community admitted that they `were not human'. The government spokesperson in a brief statement pointed out that human rights legislation only applied to humans, not spartans, therefore no law will be broken in instigating protective custody of spartan individuals. It was also pointed out that France, Italy and the United States have also brought in similar protective custody arrangements. On the issue of any humans who may be detained in error, the government said that once a definitive scientific test became available that would prove someone's humanity, they would be immediately released and compensated for the inconvenience and embarrassment."

Mike had to sit down. He was shaking uncontrollably.

"We need to leave" he said softly. Sarah shook her head. "Winston mentioned you'd be willing to claim sanctuary in a Christian church" she replied. Mike nodded. "But your church meets in a lecture theatre, we can't go there, where are you suggesting?"

"There's an Anglican church nearby, St Chrysostom's and I know the vicar quite well. He'd permit you to claim sanctuary there, I know he would. I can phone him now if you like?"

Mike paused, trying to hold back his tears, trying to swallow his fear. "Yes please" he managed to say.

The vicar was willing and the church was very close, so it was less than an hour later that they found themselves sat on a collection of comfortable chairs in the area behind the high altar of the big gothic church. Sarah was with them, as were Gemma, Grace and the human priest who was vicar of the church. "I hope you know what you're doing, Sarah" he said. "So do I" she smiled tersely.

It wasn't long after they'd arrived in the church that armed police and an angry mob surrounded the building. It seemed that one of the neighbours had seen them and reported their presence. "Come out with your hands up!" came the shout on a megaphone. Mike looked at Sarah. "I'll go and speak with them" she said. She had her white cassock on, so that she could be undeniably identified as a minister. The vicar, the human priest joined her and Mike heard Sarah shout from the doorway. "They've claimed sanctuary! There are small babies and children here, please, restrain yourselves!" she cried out in a loud voice.

A number of unintelligible, though obviously angry, shouts rose up from the crowd. "Please!" the vicar shouted this time, "they may not be human but they are people and Christ came so that all people may be blessed. If they believe in Christ and claim sanctuary in His name who are we to deny it?" He paused for a moment as something else was said by a police spokesperson, then the vicar continued in a quieter voice. "All are welcome in God's house."

They stepped from the doorway and were followed by a senior police officer whose eyes scanned the church's interior. Mike, sat on a comfortable chair in one corner of the chancel and cradling Gabriel, met his eyes and nodded slowly. "Officer" he said.

"You can't hide here forever, it's not safe" the police officer said, taking in Mike's presence along with the other adults and children all huddled together near the altar, some on chairs, some sat on the floor, others standing up. "There's a danger the church will be attacked by arsonists or worse if you insist on staying in here. Come on, sirs, please."

"I'm a lawyer and this is illegal, under every bit of human rights legislation and democratic process this is illegal" Mike stated flatly. The police officer sighed. "We're just doing as ordered, sir. Now will you come quietly?"

"Let me feed my son" Mike said, "and I'll think about it," and pointedly staring at the officer the whole time as he unbuttoned his shirt and lifted Gabriel up. The baby began drinking the offered milk and the police officer just stared, dumbfounded. "Was there anything else?" Mike asked.

The officer stuttered a few times and seemed to have momentarily forgotten how to talk but presently he found his voice. "Shit, you're really not human, are you?" he hissed. Mike didn't immediately speak but just continued to stare. After a long, painful pause he answered the officer's question. "I'm an intelligent individual, I'm a passport-holding British citizen and I've paid my taxes all my life. Whether or not I breastfeed my son shouldn't be anything to do with you. But no, for the record, I'm not human."

The police officer seemed to shake his stupor off and stood tall, raising himself to his full height. "You can stay here for as long as we deem it safe. If it appears the mob outside intend to cause either property damage or inflict injury on you or your children then we will have no choice but to remove you by force. I'm very sorry, sirs but I'll have no choice. Sirs," he finished, nodding before heading back outside.

The crowd continued to grow and presently television news cameras arrived to report on the tense stand-off. Riot police held the mob back and the senior officer who'd come into the church seemed quite sensitive to the spartan cause. Inside the church the group were overwrought, stress making tempers frayed and children anxious. David and Simon were both in tears, Greg and George were both cradling each other for support and the younger children and babies had all picked up on their parent's anxiety and were fretful and restless.

As the afternoon wore on and faded into evening the mood of the crowd changed subtly from the combination of curiosity and anger to a more violent, bitter atmosphere. Bottles began to be thrown along with vile insults and the police struggled to hold the rioters back. In the end the senior officer, accompanied by a group of constables and three social workers, made their way into the church. "I'm really sorry" he began and his voice held real sympathy. "But we're going to have to take you from here, things are degenerating outside, it's getting to the stage where we can't guarantee your safety anymore. Please" he finished, "come voluntarily? I don't want to have to force the issue."

"Can't we have the chance to live a normal life?" Stuart said, irritation plain in his tone of voice. "It isn't much to ask, surely? I've paid my taxes and lived normally for forty-odd years, what's changed now? I've a good mind to go out there and."

"Stu, please" Pete pleaded. "Come on, don't do anything stupid" he begged. Greg watched the stand-off between his fathers with tears in his eyes and made to say something but the police officer beat him to it. "Sir, we can't guarantee your safety if you go outside. The crowd's getting ugly, they really, really don't want you here" he said with the same note of apology in his voice.

Just then a shout rose up from the police officers and the mob outside. Each second seemed an hour long as in apparent slow-motion a surge of people flooded past the riot police and into the church. Sarah was pushed roughly aside as they ran towards the men and children clustered in the chancel. Stuart separated out from the group and strode forward down the large, wide aisle of the church. "Stop, for godsake" he began, "please, think for a moment."

A thug with a shaved head, scarred cheek and a broken bottle in his hand leapt on Stuart and stabbed him, reducing Stuart's words to a strangled cry. With a wail of horror Pete flew to Stuart's defence and he, too, was stabbed. And then as quickly as it began the fight was over, the police regained control of the crowd and dragged the weapon-wielders away in handcuffs. Paramedics came to tend Stuart and Pete as George and James together cradled a hysterical Greg, stopping him from running over to his father's still forms. A doctor came and joined the paramedics after just a few minutes and presently stopped their resuscitation attempts. "I'm sorry" he said, "there's nothing more we can do." Greg's agonised wail filled the church as his father's bodies were wheeled away.

"We can't stay here" Tom observed presently, speaking out loud what everyone else was already thinking. "We've got no choice anymore" he continued, "this has gone too far." With silent nods from the rest of the family he gestured to the police officer, "I hope you've got a good idea how you can get us out of here safely."

"You'll leave?" the officer asked, relief in his voice. "Only if we're not going to be cut down by the rioters" he replied. The police officer thought for a moment. "If we back the van right up to the doorway and then block the open spaces with riot shields. That should protect you enough to get you out of here." The van moved in and police surrounded it, stopping the crowds from attacking the vehicle. The doors were opened and secured and the group of adults and children, accompanied by the three social workers and two police constables all bundled into the back of the van. After a few tense moments when it seemed like the mob weren't going to let them leave they were speeding their way down the main road and away. "Where are we going?" Mike asked presently. "Initially to the local police station" the constable said, "then you'll be transferred once we've processed paperwork."

"Do you know where we'll end up?" Alex asked. He breathed in short gasps, trying to reduce the pressure on his womb and was obviously in a lot of pain. "I think some adult spartans are being held in Strangeways" one of the officers said, "but I don't know about people with children, our team haven't had to pick up any spartans so young before."

Greg spoke up in a shaky voice, breaking with grief. "What did they do with my dads?" he asked. The talkative police constable looked confused and James explained, "the two men who" he choked, "were stabbed, they were Greg's dads."

"God, I'm sorry, son" the police officer said, "no kid should have to have seen that. I don't know what they've done but I'll find out, I promise" he said.

Presently they arrived at a non-descript police station and taken in to the custody sergeant. The man took one look at the group and dropped a bombshell. "You need to surrender the children to social services, only spartans over sixteen are being kept in police custody."

"No!" Carl yelled, holding Hugh tightly. Tom locked his arms in a protective embrace around his baby son, Matthew and Mike did the same with Gabriel. Andrew and David clung to James' leg and Simon to Winston's. "You can't take the children away, please, no" Winston said. "You can't separate us, the babies are still breastfeeding, that's cruel. Please, don't!"

"They'll be cared for by foster parents" one of the social workers said in a placating tone of voice. Come on, prison's no place for children."

"It's no place for law-abiding citizens either" Mike shot back, angry, afraid and desperate. "We shouldn't be arrested without charge, without reason, you're breaking every bit of human rights law and democratic process in doing this and now denying us our families, that's not just cruel, that's evil!"

"Now calm down, we're just doing our jobs" the sergeant replied. "And I'd have thought you'd be pleased your children weren't going to be gaoled. Now pass the babies over or we'll have to forcibly take them from you."

Eleven-year old George seemed torn between hugging a grieving, terrified Greg and hugging his fathers but he suddenly seemed to take a decision and raised himself up, squared his shoulders and said to Mike, "dad Mike, come on, I don't want to lose you like we've already lost Stuart and Pete. Let me take Gabe, please?" And with anguish plain on his face Mike did as his eldest son requested and relinquished hold of his youngest. The two middle brothers, David and Andrew, clung to their oldest brother's legs. Greg beckoned Simon, Carl and Winston's eldest, to his side and took Hugh, Simon's baby brother into his arms. Finally they looked at Tom, who was the only adult still clinging onto his child. "Uncle Tom" George said, "you don't want Matthew to grow up without a dad at all, do you? If you don't let him come with us then they'll end up taking him from you. Please?" and finally Tom handed his son to one of the social workers, collapsing into Clive's arms and sobbing as all the youngsters were shepherded away.

The adults were searched and herded into cells in groups. The sergeant seemed to take a perverse pleasure in splitting the couples up; Mike found himself in a cell with Tom, Winston, Alex and Si. James was with Clive, Carl, Daniel and Phil. Mike guided an exhausted, suffering Alex over to the single hard bunk bed the cell offered and helped him to lie down. "Shh, relax, deep breaths" he counselled. "Lie down flat, it'll take the pressure off a bit, come on." Alex did as he was bid, settling down and was very quickly asleep, pain and fatigue rapidly overcoming him. In one corner Si was cradling and rocking a heart-broken Tom who sobbed at losing baby Matthew. "He'll be better cared for with social services than he would in prison, Tom" Mike could hear him whisper, "you know that."

Mike sank down onto the floor, leaning on the wall next to Winston, the young human man who was Carl's partner. "You know" Mike said after a while, "all you need is a signed testimony and a blood test from your mum and you'll be proved human, you could be free" he said.

Winston snorted. "And leave Carl and the kids alone, are you mad? Nah, man, I'm staying with you, solidarity and all that. They didn't defeat apartheid and segregation by running and deserting each other." He grinned a small smile and Mike couldn't help but smile back. "That means a lot, thanks" he replied softly.

Cups of lukewarm tea and a plate of cold toast were presently brought to the cells and they all ate and drank gratefully, settling down into a fitful sleep as evening faded into night and the lights were dimmed. The next morning saw the ten, along with four other spartans the police had picked up who were unknown to Mike, all bundled into another police van and driven to Strangeways prison. A full wing of the prison had been emptied of normal prisoners and made ready for the spartan population it was to house. Spartans from all over the north of England were being housed there and within a couple of days of Mike and the others' arrival about one hundred and eighty spartans were locked up in the facility with numbers still steadily rising.

They'd actually been given quite a lot of freedoms – apart from, of course, not being permitted to leave the prison. They were able to choose their own rooms and roommates, watch television, listen to the radio and help themselves to food and cook whenever they wanted. Most of the spartans seemed to either be struggling with shock and depression, or else were angry and tearful. To his surprise Mike observed that no one seemed especially violent or combative. Many had had children taken away and most knew someone who had either been killed or severely injured in the riots and subsequent arrests. The prison officers and managers generally seemed sympathetic to their plight and quite openly stated that they believed the incarceration was illegal. But the fact remained that within a week of the announcements the UK prison population had increased by two and a half thousand people as all spartans or suspected spartans were imprisoned.

They hadn't had any news of the children and no one seemed able to confirm where they were living, who was looking after them. Mike and James had written a long letter to George but three days after writing it the prison officer they'd given it to for posting brought it back. "I'm really sorry, no one seems to know where the children are. I've tried so hard but I don't know where to find your son, I don't know what address would reach him. I'm sorry." It was nine days after they'd arrived at the prison that they found out what their children had suffered.

A dull afternoon found Mike & James sitting on some of the comfortable chairs that had been brought into the centre of the wing and talking softly. James had been very depressed and had missed the children terribly and Mike had found it difficult to comfort him. Others were also sitting and talking, some were cooking or eating and in the distance the noise from a couple of radios and a television filtered through to the main floor. Just then, the wing door buzzed and clinked open and people looked up, largely disinterested, to see how many men were joining them this time but the gasps of horror soon drew everyone's attention. There, being herded through the gates by prison officers and social workers, were their children, all looking mournful, dirty and malnourished.

"George!" James cried, recognising their eldest son. "George, David, oh Andrew, honey, what have they done to you?" he sobbed. A social worker walked over and handed Gabriel to Mike. "I'm sorry" she said, her voice breaking. "We tried but" she paused and struggled to talk. "People were so cruel, they're just children" she continued before breaking down and running out of the gate and away from the wing.

"It wasn't so bad, Greg and I looked after my brothers and my cousins" George was saying to James. "I made sure that everyone had stuff to eat and drink, only Gabriel and Matthew both found it difficult to swallow milk from a teacup so they didn't always have enough, I don't think. And I changed their nappies too, whenever we were given clean ones" he said proudly, continuing "and the last two nights we all slept properly `cos we had mattresses to sleep on and blankets too." James let out a horrified wail and pulled the three boys he'd birthed into a tight embrace.

"What happened?" Mike asked another social worker, even as he shifted his shirt and lifted Gabriel up for milk – he'd expressed milk the whole time since they'd been separated in the hope that he would be reunited with his son before too long. As Gabriel began to suckle noisily the woman said, "we couldn't get any foster carers to take them, the staff in the council homes went on strike when we tried to house them there, same thing for the hospitals we went to and our own colleagues too. We used our own money to buy them food and nappies and stuff, the department wouldn't even give us a budget for baby food. And after they all ended up sleeping in our offices the last two nights we knew we had no choice but to bring them here back to you, we knew you'd look after them."

There were forty or so children who'd been brought in and were quickly reunited with their families. Only Greg stood apart, having been brought back along with George and his brothers but whose fathers both were dead. Mike looked over. "Greg, come on" he said, smiling sympathetically and beckoning with his free hand. The boy came over, buried his face in Mike's shoulder and cried.

Over the next few days the families settled together. The children were carefully and lovingly bathed by their parents, their dirty clothes were washed or replaced, they all began to eat normal food again and were tucked into warm beds. The prison authorities were sympathetic and supportive and brought clothes, toys, nappies, baby food and formula milk in so that they could be cared for properly. James and Mike had moved their children into their cell, which contained six bunk beds anyway and obtained a cot for Gabriel too. Greg and George, though they had separate beds, stayed virtually glued to each other's sides and slept together. Mike didn't really blame them, the trauma they'd all gone through had made everyone more touchy-feely, more in need of comforting arms.

As the boys calmed down and started to adjust to life behind bars, George asked Mike, "Mike, do you think they'd allow us to have a poem book? Greg and I'd like to read to each other again." Mike nodded. "Yeah, we can ask them for some poetry books" he said, "but you won't get any privacy, you know, there's not enough room." George nodded. "We know, we just want to read, that's all." And after that it was a common sight to see the boys sat close together on their bed with a book on their laps between them, whispering to each other, reading one line at a time, occasionally blushing if they noticed someone watching but otherwise quite relaxed.

One evening, David, Andrew and Gabriel were asleep already and people were drifting towards bedtime and Greg, George, James and Mike had been playing cards in a more secluded circle of chairs. As the game drew to a close James stood up and stretched theatrically. "I'm tired" he said, "coming honey?" Mike looked at him, frowning – they usually didn't head to bed until after Greg and George had fallen to sleep. James met his eyes, subtly indicated the two boys and winked and Mike got it. "Yeah" he said, "night boys" he finished, turning to Greg and George. "Don't stay up too late, will you?" and with that they left their son and Greg alone.

"What was all that about?" George whispered. He was sleepy and hadn't picked up on what his dads were doing. "They want to give us a bit of alone time, baby" Greg explained, putting his arms around George's neck. George followed suit and they kissed. "How are you feeling?" George asked Greg. "Just sad that my dads aren't here" he replied. "I miss them loads. But it's great of Alex and Daniel to put in papers to try and adopt me, it means I won't be alone" he choked and started to cry. George kissed him over his eyes and licked the tears away. "You'll never be alone, Greg" he whispered. "Don't cry, baby, I'll always be here for you, no matter what, I promise." He ran gentle fingers around Greg's face and then tickled his neck and his ears, making him smile and giggle. "Your dads loved you so much" George said. "They would have wanted you to be happy, baby, you know that."

Shortly, Greg said, "should we go and get a poetry book?" George shook his head. "I want to dance with you like we used to." Greg frowned. "But there's no music" he objected. George smiled softly, dragged him to his feet, picked up his lover's hand and placed it over his own chest and Greg smiled to feel George's heartbeat. George reached out in the same way and felt Greg's heart pounding through his ribcage. As they stood there, feeling each other's pulse, a strange sensation came over them and their hearts began pounding as one. "We've got music, baby" George whispered. "Whenever we're together we carry music inside" and slowly, in time with their synchronised heartbeats they began to dance. And later, when they could no longer keep their eyes open they crept to the bed they shared, undressed in the semi-darkness and slid under the covers, lying skin against skin and relaxed and slept.

Mike and a few others began school lessons when what seemed like a whole children's library was delivered and installed on the wing and an upstairs corner was turned into a classroom for the school age children. Greg and George enjoyed learning and David, too, enjoyed lessons alongside his peers rather than alone at home. After some telephones were installed they began calling other prisons and contacting other incarcerated spartans both in Britain and worldwide by telephone and letter. Many had experienced similar things, separation of fathers from children, imprisonment and worse. It was a telephone call to Wormwood Scrubs that opened up the possibility of a legal campaign. "Hi Charles, how's it going?" Mike said once he got through to one of the lawyers held in the London prison.

"Hi, Mike. Wormwood isn't too bad, I guess but it still has locks on the doors. How about you lot?"

"Better now the children are back with us. God, it seemed like Gabe had lost two or three pounds in weight and Tom's lad, Matthew, had lost even more. I wish they'd anticipated . . . but we can't cry over spilt milk I guess"

"By the time I arrived the kids were already here. I managed to evade capture for a fortnight but they found my name and photo on the personnel files at the office and that was that"

"Any indication how long we're staying in gaol? We've heard nothing"

"Us neither. It's not like they've done this legally so they've got no reason to give us a release date. After all they've made up this `for you own protection' nonsense and they could end up riding that tired old horse for months, even years, if they've a mind to"

"We can't let them do that. It's illegal and they know it as well as we do"

"Well we can't use human rights legislation, that's for sure, they've already put a stop to that one and that'd be the most obvious law they're breaking"

"Charles, are there many lawyers or solicitors there with you? I'm going to ask around here but I think I might need a lot of help."

"I don't know, I'll ask around. There's more people being held at Dartmoor and at half a dozen other places too, we'll have to see whose contact details we've got. What's your plan, Mike?"

"There was some legislation brought in about war crimes and stuff after the Second World War. If we can make a legal case against the government that their actions are an act of war against our race then we might be able to get them at the Hague war crimes tribunal."

"But how do you prove something's an act of war if neither side have actually declared war? There's a fairly big hole in your plan, Mike"

"I know but it's all I can think of at the moment. Damn it, Tim, I'm mostly involved in property and family law, I'm no expert at the finer points of human rights and war crimes. I'm groping in the dark here but they can't keep us locked up forever. There'll be something we can challenge them on, I'm sure."

Three days, conversations on the wing and a number of telephone calls later a group of six people sat with Mike one afternoon. "Thank you for joining me gentleman, I trust you know what we're here for?"

An elderly spartan man nodded. "A legal campaign, I don't know what we can do but I'm willing to try anything."

Mike grinned. "Let's start by pooling our knowledge, letting each other know our backgrounds, especially if we've got any human rights or war crimes or other experience. I'll go first, I'm Mike, I'm mostly involved in family law and property, at university I was quite interested in legal history but I haven't really read much about it for years."

The elderly man nodded. "I'm John and I'm a retired high court judge" he said and the rest of the men went around the table, "I'm Mark and I'm a criminal lawyer." The next spoke, "I'm Winston and I'm Mike's brother in law and I'm also involved in family law." A portly human man spoke next, "Jim, I'm a historian, mainly Royal and modern British history." Then the final two introduced themselves, "I'm Steve and I'm involved in property law and this is my partner Dave, he's a legal secretary." Dave said, "hi" and the meeting got down to business.

"Thanks everyone" Mike said. "Now some of you might feel you've not got much to contribute but we here, I believe, represent the best source of legal knowledge here in Strangeways. There are similar meetings being held in Wormwood and Dartmoor this afternoon and we're going to telephone and compare notes later on. Now my initial idea was to use war crimes legislation, like I've already explained to you, anyone got any thoughts on that or any other ideas that might be better?"

Jim, the historian, cleared his throat. "I'm not sure how well it'll work but I've been thinking, we're being held by Her Majesty's prison service and even if we're released tomorrow the simple fact is that they've incarcerated us without charge or trial and held us in facilities administered on behalf of the crown. Why don't we sue Her Majesty for breach of the Magna Carta?"

"You can't be serious!" Steve exclaimed.

"I've never been more serious in my life" Jim smiled. "Our monarch has breached the Magna Carta by imprisoning her citizens without charge or trial. We bring this lawsuit and they'll have no choice but to release us."

"Wouldn't the war crimes thing wouldn't work?" Mark asked. "Yeah, I thought it was a good idea" Dave said.

John, the high court judge spoke. "Unfortunately you have to be a sovereign state in order for a declaration of war to be recognised. If a group of people could declare war on their own nation the troubles in Northern Ireland would be a very different affair."

"I'm not sure about the Magna Carta either" Mike said, "how do we prove we're citizens?"

"Shit I hadn't thought of that" Jim groaned. "That's another good idea down the toilet."

"What about the race relations act, would that help us?" Winston wondered.

"It might" John said, frowning, "but we're going to have the same problem, convincing them it applies to us. We're not a separate country, we never were so the war thing would be difficult, we know we can't use human rights law, we don't know if we can prove our citizenship and we're a different species and I don't know if they'd accept that as a separate race or not."

Mike sniggered softly. "That's about the long and the short of it, yeah. Listen, have a think about anything else that might help. All we need is one loophole and we've got them. I'll contact Wormwood and Dartmoor and see if anything's been suggested there. Can you guys speak to everyone here on the wing, an intelligent layman may give us some good suggestions too."

"We'll get right on it, thanks for the ideas" Winston smiled. Mike shook his head. "Don't thank me just yet."

After the news of the aim to mount a legal challenge began to spread via whispered conversations in the prisons the mood gradually changed from one dominated by depression to one of faint hope. There were fewer tears, less grief, more determination to make the best of their situations. Quite a few people had ideas and suggestions, which Mike and Winston began to collate.

Alex and four others in the prison were all gestating and had all begun to relax after the trauma of the arrests. None of them were particularly happy at their predicament but they weren't at the mercy of mobs and riots and they could rest sufficiently to remove the threat of stillbirth. The hope of eventual freedom, too, helped them to settle and eat properly and the five foetuses grew at the expected rate.

The prison guards and managers were apparently quite curious about spartan gestation and frequently asked Alex and the others questions about what was happening. After they'd been imprisoned for a month or so, two doctors arrived on the wing one afternoon. One was a university research fellow and the other an obstetrician. "How can we help you, gentlemen?" Alex asked after they gathered with the five who were gestating.

"We were hoping we could help you with whatever medical care you need" the obstetrician said, "and also learn something more about spartan gestation, there's nothing in the current medical text books, you understand." He leaned forwards to try and touch Alex's womb and Alex automatically flinched away. "You can't touch it" he said.

"Don't be silly, boy, women are examined month on month when they're expecting. We just want to feel what size the baby is, perhaps get a sample of fluid, that's all."

Alex shook his head. "No, you don't understand. It can't be touched, not by anyone, not until we're ready to give birth. The pain's too much, it's woven from open nerve fibres. If you touch it we're likely to miscarry."

"That's absurd, no species would have ever evolved with such limitations" the university doctor said. "We need this information, it'll be less than an hour." He turned and raised his voice. "Officer" he shouted to the man on the gate, "admit our colleagues, please."

Alex and the others had gotten to their feet by this time and watched with dread as perhaps twenty burly security guards trooped in. "Come on, if you're worried about the pain we'll drug you, you won't feel a thing" the obstetrician said with a soft expression on his face, as if he were trying to be kind. Alex shook his head violently. "No, that also causes us to miscarry. No!" he yelled as his arms were grabbed, "you're going to kill my baby, you can't do this!" The others all yelled similar protestations but to no avail, all five were firmly escorted away and the rest of the wings' inmates were held back by prison officers and the remaining security.

"They'll all be back in a couple of hours at most, no harm done," the obstetrician said, trying to appease the angry crowd, before backing out of the wing and indicating to the guard to lock the door behind him.

"Shit, they can't do this!" Daniel wailed, running over and clinging onto the bars of the door. Mike went over to him but there was nothing he could say – both of them could clearly distinguish Alex's howls of pain and protest echoing down the now-deserted corridor.

It was the following day when the five returned. The two doctors were nowhere in sight and it was a group of sickened and horrified-looking prison officers who escorted them.

All were in wheelchairs, all possibly drugged or else comatose and numb from too much screaming, too many emotions. Only one still bore an intact womb. Daniel collapsed, shrieking a high-pitched scream as he noticed Alex's too flat, womb-less stomach. Mike, seeing Alex wouldn't be able to give any details, beckoned to one of the officers. "What happened?" he asked.

"The two doctor Frankenstein's who visited you yesterday only gave up their quest after four babies were already dead" he spat bitterly. "The first one howled when his womb was touched and when they tried to insert a hypodermic the whole thing split open. Alex was next and they gave him an anaesthetic and even as he fell unconscious it was like his womb unravelled before their eyes and just fell apart. The third they gave a different drug but it had the same effect and fourth they tried just gently touching with gloved hands but even that was too much, he screamed and his womb split open."

"How did you know?" Mike asked.

"It was in the prison medical wing, I was made to stand guard, I watched the whole damn thing. God, it was sick."

"And the babies?" Mike asked. "What's happened to them?"

The officer shrugged. "I don't know, I didn't think" he said.

"Listen, find out what's happened to them, don't let anyone use them for medical science or throw them away with the rubbish or anything, tell them we want the bodies preserved. Then if you would, call this number" he scribbled it on a scrap of paper, "it's the church minister who helped us, ask her if she'll do a funeral for the four."

"Of course, sir" the officer promised, turning away, tears still visible in his bloodshot eyes.

Mike found the men's partners and told them what he'd asked. All of them appreciated it and thanked Mike for his quick thinking. The men who'd actually been carrying the babies were all in a deep shock and Mike worried for their health. "Have they eaten or drank anything?" he asked one of the prison officers and the man shrugged. "I don't know but I can find out if you wish" he offered. "Do that" Mike said tersely, "and if you can, get a GP in here, someone sympathetic if possible, not one of those two monsters."

"I'll see to it" the officer said, leaving the wing quietly and heading towards the office so he could make some phone calls.

Finally Mike turned his attention to Alex. He went over to where he was huddled in the wheelchair, apparently unable to move. Daniel was still sobbing and Phil had been trying to get a response from his son to no avail. "Alex" Mike whispered, kneeling down. "Alex, Daniel needs you" he said. No response. "Alex, please, just move your hand or nod your head or something if you can hear me." Still no response. "Would you like your baby's funeral to be held in the prison chapel so you can attend?" Mike said in an even softer voice and finally Alex stirred. "We'll need to tell the minister his name" Mike continued. "Had you and Daniel decided on anything?"

Alex took a deep breath and opened his mouth. Daniel, on seeing his lover respond to something, came over and grasped his hand. Finally, in the quietest of whispers Alex said, "Philip, Philip Alexanderson. That was his name." A single tear leaked from the corner of his eye and made a sparkling track down his pale face.

James joined the group huddled around Alex's chair. Just as Daniel had taken one hand, James took the other and stroked it gently. "If we can arrange it we'll see if you'll be able to hold him for a bit" he offered. "Say goodbye" he choked. Tears overwhelmed him and he leant onto his brother's knee and cried and Alex reached out and stroked his hair, ironically trying to comfort his older brother who'd attempted to be the comforter himself. "That'd be good" Alex said, "thanks James." James just continued to cry.

The authorities were apparently sickened and horrified at what had taken place and were keen to do everything possible to respect the families' wishes. The fathers of the four stillborn babies each were given private time to say goodbye to their sons. Funeral services were held under tight security at Southern Cemetery and though they were accompanied by armed guard to the chapel in the early hours of the morning any of the spartans who wished to attend the services were permitted to do so.

Sarah had agreed to conduct the funerals and was present with Gemma and Grace. Her manner was professional and her voice clear but it was obvious that she was just as sickened by the cause of the baby's deaths as the spartan attendees were. Before they were whisked off back to prison, Sarah hugged each person tightly and sat and prayed with the eight whose children had been killed. "I promise, I'll do everything I can to try and bring some justice here" she assured Mike in on the telephone later on. "It can't just be forgotten."

Some days after the funerals, a team of coroners and sympathetic doctors came to interview many of the spartan population at the prison to try and build a picture of what had happened and in the process they made detailed notes about spartan gestation and the dangers it presented. "What used to happen to the stillborn babies when you lived in hiding?" one asked her spartan audience. "We've got a lot of legal and other contacts" Mike explained, "it was quite simple, really, to arrange for death certificates and funerals and what have you. As long as the paperwork's all in place people tend not to ask too many questions."

The woman frowned and admitted, "I'm not quite clear what you mean." Mike sighed. "If you want me to spell it out for you then I will. Some of our professionals, including myself and others in the legal profession, are forgers. We create false records so that our true background isn't on record. As an example, everyone here will have a birth certificate that claims he's got a mother, whether he does or not. I've got four sons and for each of them their mother is a non-existent woman who's supposed to be either my wife or my partners' wife. We've got marriage certificates too, no one would guess from the paper records we were anything other than straight human."

The coroner who'd asked the questions nodded but one of her colleagues frowned. "You said something odd, then, Mike" he said. "You told us you've all got birth certificates that claim you have mothers whether you do or not. I thought none of you would have had mothers?" Mike grinned. "Some of us were born human. Some of us here still are but you won't get them admitting that or me identifying them for that matter. Spartans have a partner bond that creates a bond of love so strong that we don't want anything to come between us and we'll do anything, even endure false imprisonment, if it means we can stay together."

"How many of you have a real mother, were born human?" the man pressed. Mike looked around the wing as he considered. "Possibly a third of the adults, maybe more" he said, "though that really isn't a foolproof way of proving someone is human, I had a mum, she died years ago, god bless her but I was changed and became spartan and gestated Gabriel." The baby was on his knee and as if he knew he was being discussed he opened his eyes and wriggled, rooting for food. Mike calmly began to feed his son to the obvious discomfort of the visitors. "Yeah, as you can tell I'm fully and completely spartan now but I wasn't when I was born."

"But that's impossible, humans and spartans are two separate species" one of the doctors protested, "humans don't have anything like the bubble and filaments and no human male could ever produce an egg." Mike shrugged. "In that case, Gabriel doesn't exist" he stated. The child, now six months old, continued to suckle noisily before letting Mike's nipple slip out of his mouth and grin a milky smile at his dad, his eyes sparkling as he gurgled happily. "How were you changed?" the doctor asked.

Mike's face lit with a peaceful smile. "As far as I know there's no scientific explanation. I believe it was supernatural. Most spartans worship gods from ancient Greece and I believe that the god Apollo changed me. Before, when I was human, I was old before my time, I'd had a heart attack and was given bare months to live. Now, well, look" he said, indicating his youthfulness. "I've got a baby son who I carried to term myself, a full head of hair, I'm tall and as muscled as if I do weights every day, I've got no wrinkles at all and I never seem to get tired. Would you believe I'm past fifty? Would anyone?"

"Can you prove this?" one of the doctors asked. Mike nodded. "Get my old medical records from Wythenshawe hospital and compare the man I was then with the man I am now. As long as I can stay here on the wing with other spartans as witness I'll even let you do a physical exam or a scan." The doctors agreed to get the records and bring some equipment on to the wing for Mike's examination the following week. The examination day arrived along with a team of doctors and technicians. Blood tests were taken for comparison to the ones Mike had had done in Wythenshawe, a full physical examination was performed and then the main exam, an ultrasound scan of his entire torso.

The operator set the machine up, squirted gel on Mike's stomach and began to operate the probe in the region over his belly button. "What the fuck?" she muttered, manoeuvring the probe for a better look. "Erm, that's probably his ovary" Phil said from the doorway where he'd been observing the whole procedure.

"It's like a growth coming straight off your spinal column" the operator said, continuing to probe. A couple of doctors also came and looked at the screens. "You had x-rays and ultrasounds and all sorts in Wythenshawe and nothing like this was spotted, nothing!" the doctor breathed, flicking through the records.

"I, erm, don't suppose anyone else would be willing to also have a scan?" the doctor asked. "For comparison purposes?"

Mike shook his head. "You're not getting anything to use as ammunition against us" he said sadly. "After four of our children were murdered, no, I'm sorry. I let you do this because of my special circumstances but no, you're not examining anyone else."

The doctor nodded, respecting Mike's wishes and at the end of the tests they packed up and left the wing, talking quietly amongst themselves.

"Thank you Mike" Phil said.

"For what?" Mike asked. "For defending us" Phil said softly.

"Defending my sons, you mean, Phil" Mike replied. "I don't want them to grow up behind bars, Phil but I don't want to live a lie anymore. They've taken everything from us except our identity and I'll be damned if they get that too." Mike felt his eyes burn with tears and then James was there, hugging him, whispering soft, sweet nonsense into his ear to calm him down.

Hovering near to James and Mike was John, the high court judge who'd been spearheading the investigation into a possible legal action. He looked surprisingly cheerful. "What's on your mind, John?" Mike asked.

"Mike, you're a genius" he gushed.

"Eh?" Mike muttered, confused.

"Mike, don't you get it? You've just given us the key! You told them that four of our children were murdered and they just nodded and accepted it. Mike, think about it!" he said, almost laughing with unrestrained glee. "Our way out, Mike! We can sue the state for murder! All we need is one spartan with a criminal record and we've got them!"

The resident legal experts, John, Mike, Mark, Winston, Jim, Steve and Dave sat together that evening and John explained his brainwave. "It was the stillbirths, the babies. It was authorised by the government, those doctors committed state-sanctioned murder and then the doctors that visited today did everything but give us their agreement in writing! We take a case out against them, even a civil action and we're home free!"

Mark nodded. "Why didn't I think of that? Criminal law still applies to us as much as humans! Shit, John, you're a genius!"

"Does anyone know someone who's got a criminal record?" Winston asked. Dave blushed. "Erm, I got done for drunk-driving and it's still on my licence, would that help?"

"The law's the law" John grinned. "If one law applies to us then the rest do."

Mike was thoughtful. "That explains why they were so good about the funerals and stuff" he said. "They didn't want us to kick up too much fuss."

"Are we agreed then?" John asked and the others nodded. Mike grinned fiercely. "Let's do it."

It took three weeks to get documents prepared to everyone's satisfaction and copies were submitted by post to the head of the prison service, Westminster, the High Court, the NHS, the Prime Minister and the BBC. "Now what?" Mike asked once the last one was safely away.

"Now we wait" John replied.

The following day a harried government official took a phone call. "They've done what! Shut up, I heard you the first time. Oh, God, this is a mess. Christ almighty, they'll win, no question. It won't even be contested. Fuck, let me think for a moment. Okay, we need a cabinet meeting, call the PM. Yes, now, I don't care where he is, he could be on the other side of the bloody moon for all I care, get him back here now! Don't you realise how serious this is?"

They made the ten o'clock news. Cheers rang around the wing as expert after expert explained that despite claims to the contrary the government had broken the law in imprisoning spartans and that the law applied as equally to spartans as humans.

Over the next couple of weeks there were riots and protests from right-wing humans but it was rapidly becoming clear that in sanctioning the killing of the four babies the government had begun to lose public support. A month after the lawsuit had been filed a meeting was held in Strangeways, with Mike, John and the rest of the legal team meeting politicians and legal professionals. "We are not disputing your claim or your case" Mike was told, "the government is prepared to admit that we acted irresponsibly and illegally and we will state in any forum you care to choose that the only spartans who should be incarcerated are those who have actually broken the law and been found guilty by the courts. However the fact remains that it is still not safe for you to return to your homes, even if they were still standing and the sad fact is most of them aren't. So we're offering an interim arrangement, a semi-secure, intentional community, fairly isolated to ensure your safety, guarded but with the freedom to come and go as long as you take responsibility for your personal safety outside of the area. Alternatively, you could go back into the communities you came from and accept the security risks you face?"

Mike felt emotional but steeled himself and said, "I can't speak for everyone but for me and my family, I say no security risks. We've lost too many people. I just want my sons to know what it's like to be free, that's all I want." And the murmurs of agreement echoed over the wing. The government representatives nodded. "We'll get something set up as quickly as we can" they promised.

Four months later, Strangeways, Wormwood, Dartmoor and all the other holding centres were emptied and the spartan inmates taken on a long journey by coach and ferry to what were termed the Intentional Spartan Community Projects. After an interminable journey Mike, James, Phil, Si and the rest of the family, accompanied by hundreds of others, arrived at a small dock. They looked over the water at an idyllic, green, mountainous island. "It's quite an isolated island" they were told, "the human population has left and all the houses and accommodation are solely for your use. Food and other supplies will be delivered for you and the ferry will run twice a day if you want to come and go. There'll be several police boats in the sound to stop groups of protestors from coming across but we won't stop you or any individuals from arriving or leaving."

Mike looked at the island. It was small and unfamiliar but the grass was green and the wind fresh. "Where are we, dad Mike?" George asked.

"I'm not certain, the Scottish islands somewhere but we'll have to check some maps out to figure out which one" Mike replied, "but we've got some freedom back, Georgie" he smiled. George's eyes filled with tears as Mike pulled him into a hug. "We're free, son, Mike whispered, "we're free."

It took hours to get everyone across and allocated to rooms and homes. All of James' extended family were close together, sharing two houses between them, both of which looked like they were shared houses, possibly hostels of some sort but nice enough, clean and tidy. What little luggage they had was dragged in and as the adults began sorting bedrooms out Greg and George went to James and said, "dad James, we wondered, could we go and explore? There's what looks like a big old church or something just on the hill, we want to go see what it is."

James grinned and hugged the pair of them. "Yes" he said, "Yes, yes, yes! Go, run free, explore, enjoy being outside!" he gushed. "But don't get lost and be back for supper."

George laughed. "Thanks dad!" he yelled before the pair ran off. They spent a good couple of hours exploring and were running back down the road when Phil saw them. "Greg, George, we want to ask you something!" he shouted.

"What?" they asked, holding hands, excited and breathless from running around in the clear Scottish air, enjoying their space and their freedom.

"We wondered, that is your dads, George and Alex and Daniel, Greg, wondered if, since there's enough room here you'd like to share a bedroom of your own permanently?"

The pair were speechless. "Really?" Greg asked in the end. "A whole room to ourselves?" Phil laughed. "You're a lovely couple" he said, "and I'd say that even if you both weren't my grandsons."

"What do you mean?" Greg frowned. Daniel walked over holding some official looking papers. "They were here, waiting for us" he grinned. "The adoption's come through" and he and Alex each held their hands out to the stunned boy. "Come on, come and give your uncles a hug" Alex said, tears forming in his eyes. He and Daniel had already agreed with each other that they'd be Greg's uncles – the memories of his real fathers and of their firstborn son were too real and too painful for them to even consider using the moniker `dad'. Greg ran over to them and they swept him up in a tight embrace.

George laughed, delighted at the news. "That means we're cousins" he said to Greg. Greg screwed his face up. "Urgh, imagine sleeping with your cousin, that'd be gross" and he and George fell into each other's arms, hysterical with laughter.

After they'd calmed down, Phil said, "so do you want to share a room, then?" The boys nodded simultaneously. "That'd be really great, a room of our own" George grinned. "There's a lot we've missed."

Simon raised his eyebrows and grinned back. "But remember, Phil and I will be in the bedroom on one side of you and Mike and James on the other and this building has paper walls so I hope you don't plan on making too much noise." Greg blushed scarlet and George started laughing. Alex frowned, taking in their faces. "What?" he asked dumbly. Mike, having listened to the pair cavorting in George's bedroom back in Cornwall, scowled and said shortly, "Greg squeals" and if it were possible Greg blushed even more furiously and George laughed even harder.

That night, after they'd moved in and had a meal and relaxed, Greg and George excused themselves and headed upstairs, to the door marked `4', their bedroom. Their clothes were already hanging up and the poetry books they'd collected were sat neatly on a shelf. They met each other's eyes, staring at each other for the longest time, then George said, "it's a long time since we've done this." Greg nodded. "Too long" he agreed. Then without discussing it they both slowly began to get undressed, peeling their clothes off and leaving them in a heap in the corner of the room. They began to dance, twirling around in each other's arms, pressed close to each other and as they moved they noticed their heartbeats beginning to synchronise and a sensation similar to electric sparks began to move between their skin, making them both gasp.

Presently, finally, when they were in danger of falling over, they sat down on the bed and lay back together. "I've missed looking at you, I've missed feeling you" Greg said, running his hands up and down George's sides. Both boys enjoyed and appreciated both the privacy and the intimacy that had been denied them for so long. And true to Mike's prediction and despite the boy's best efforts to stay quiet, Greg did end up squealing a couple of times.

Slowly, people began to settle in to their new, free lives. Though they were comfortable and many were considering staying on the island on a long term basis, some began investigating properties and monies left behind.

Mike, forever the solicitor, began looking into his own property. He made some phone calls to former colleagues at the legal firm in Manchester and after some conversations, assurances and updates they happily did as he asked – travelled to Glossop to check if his old cottage, the one Paul had purchased, was still standing. It was, happily, so Mike began the slow process of arranging for his family's return to familiar ground.

Legal process being what it is, it took months from first threatening the legal action to everyone's total freedom. The government insisted that every spartan re-register his birth accurately, which was done with a surprising minimum of fuss. And slowly, bank accounts were restored, houses reclaimed, state benefits awarded and people began to leave their island community and return to their proper homes.

Alongside the admission of guilt from the British government were international campaigns, championed by Amnesty International. Outside of Britain, some spartans had faired a lot worse – in parts of the Middle East and Africa more than two hundred thousand spartans and suspected spartans had been executed. In other countries spartans had suffered mass castrations, though in many Western countries the government actions had been restricted to imprisonments, as in the UK. Many times James, Mike and the others gave thanks that they were UK citizens. Phil was perhaps more anxious as his brother, David and their father lived in Amsterdam but they managed to contact each other not long after they'd moved to the island and assured each branch of the family that they were okay.

Other families fared less well and a couple came to the island severely traumatised. A couple previously unknown to James' family, David Stephenson and Peter Darrenson, had been incarcerated at separate gaols and by the time they were reunited both were in a state that could only be described as severe post-traumatic stress. Aided by John, the high-court judge, they managed to bring another lawsuit against the government proving that their precarious mental health conditions were caused as a direct result of being forcibly separated. James, Mike and the others supported the pair as much as they could and their children were cared for by their grandparents since neither father was capable even of looking after himself anymore.

It was the August before George's thirteenth birthday that James, Mike and their sons and Greg of course, along with Phil and Si, Daniel and Alex, Carl, Winston and their children and Tom, Clive and baby Matthew finally felt it was safe enough for them to make the long journey from their island retreat back to their proper home. They only had one house standing – the cottage in Glossop, but it was sufficient to enable them all to return home to their Mancunian roots. It was at once both a sad and happy occasion, leaving so many friends to rebuild their lives on the island whilst moving back to the place they considered home.

The elderly lady who was a neighbour to the Glossop house was pleased when the vehicles pulled up, glad to have the place filled as it had been empty for too long. But she got a surprise when it dawned on her that her new neighbours were spartan. She told her friend who had moved in on the telephone on the morning they'd arrived. "Oh, Muriel, will you be safe?" her friend gushed.

Muriel snorted. "Course I'm safe, they seem quite nice. There's loads of them, they're all sat in the garden. It's just I don't quite know how to approach them" she explained.

"Why on earth would you want to do that?" her friend exclaimed.

"Well, it would be the neighbourly thing to do" Muriel replied. Her friend wasn't convinced but her bigotry had only served to make Muriel more determined to make a good impression on her neighbours. After a few more minutes of strained conversation she put the phone down, washed her hands and set to making a big batch of scones. They had cooled sufficiently by lunchtime so she put them in a tin and with a rather timid smile she went next door.

At the cottage everyone still sat in the garden discussing sleeping arrangements – there were simply too many people and not enough room for each couple or family to have privacy. A discussion bordering on an argument was interrupted by the doorbell. James went through the side gate to the front of the house. "Hello?" he said gently to the white-haired old lady stood on the doorstep clutching a tin. "Hello, I'm Muriel Jones from next door" she replied in a quiet voice. "I've made you some scones to, er, welcome you back?" She said the last phrase as a question, not sure how it'd be taken.

James was touched by her friendliness but felt it dishonest to simply accept the gift. "They're a lovely gift but you know we're not human, don't you?" he said in the softest voice he could manage – he didn't want to spook her but she needed to know. To James' surprise, she nodded. "I've been a bit nervous, coming over but since we're going to be neighbours it only seemed polite" she explained.

"We're all sat through here" James said, indicating the garden, "but I'm sure you guessed that by the noise. Would you like to come in and I'll introduce you?"

"Really?" Muriel gasped.

"Well, we're going to be neighbours, it only seems polite" James grinned, returning her phrase and disarming her nerves. "Oh, you are a charmer, aren't you?" she laughed. "Go on, I'll meet your family."

James led her through to where everyone was sitting. "Everyone, this is Muriel from next door. She's brought us some cakes" he smiled. "Muriel" he turned back to the lady. "My extended family. My dads" he pointed to Phil and Si, "my brothers" he indicated Carl, Tom and Alex, "My partner and my sons" he began. "I'm James and we've got Mike, Greg, George, David, Andrew and baby Gabriel here. Then Tom, Clive and baby Matthew, Carl, Winston, Simon and Hugh, Alex, Daniel, another Simon and Phil."

"I'm never going to remember all of you!" she laughed. "Who's moving in here?"

James looked uncomfortable. "Well, you see, this is the only intact home we've got between us as the rest were firebombed but we wanted to stay together so" he left the thought unfinished.

"You poor dears, you can't all stay here, that's impossible! Some of you must stay with me, I've got plenty of room. I insist" she said when James opened his mouth to protest, "you can't all live in such a small house, it's just silly" she continued softly, then looked at James and realised he had unshed tears in his eyes. "What's up?" she asked.

"You don't know?" he said gently. "We still don't qualify for social housing or housing benefit either. We thought we had no choice. You're the first human we've met in a long time who's treated us normally."

"My boy, why wouldn't I treat you normally?" Muriel smiled back. "Now, I've got two spare bedrooms. One's tiny but the other isn't too bad so who wants it?"

The family looked at each other in silence for a long minute. Then Carl said, "if there's no objections, I think Tom, Clive and Matthew should."

"No" Tom replied, "You've got two boys, I've only got one, you need the extra space more than we do."

"Listen" Muriel interrupted, "why don't I call a friend of mine? She's alone in a big house, some of you might be able to move in there or at least sleep there temporarily."

"You think she'd agree?" Simon asked. Muriel nodded. "I'm sure she would" she smiled. "Now how about you guys find some plates and knives and butter and enjoy those scones whilst they're still a little warm?"

Later in the afternoon, Clive, Tom and Matthew moved into Muriel's house and the lady herself made a phone call. "Glossop vicarage, Stacey speaking," came a voice.

"Stacey, its Muriel" she began, "I've got rather a huge favour to ask."

It was suppertime when James' family's meal was interrupted by the doorbell. He went to the door to find Muriel back along with a young woman in tow. "Hello again, James," she smiled, "this is Stacey. She's agreed to meet with you and talk about some accommodation."

Stacey explained once they were all together, "I've got a big house with four spare bedrooms I just don't need. Muriel explained your predicament and I wondered if you'd like to stay with me?"

"You sure?" Phil asked.

She nodded. "Not all of you, of course. But some are welcome as long as you don't mind living so close to the graveyard."

"Eh?" Carl asked.

Stacey chuckled. "Didn't Muriel explain? I'm the vicar."

The family all looked and felt profoundly uncomfortable. Finally James spoke. "You know most of us aren't Christians, don't you? One of my granddads was an Apolline priest so you could say we're almost the opposite of Christian."

She nodded. "Yeah, I know that" was all she said.

After a long pause James continued, "if it's okay with everyone, perhaps my dads, Phil and Si, and Carl, Winston and their boys could come to your house?"

"Of course" she smiled. All was agreed and belongings were moved and that night all slept comfortably in their new homes. It took a surprisingly brief time for everyone to settle in and the locals soon got used to the extended spartan family who had moved into their village.

Two weeks after arriving, Mike and James went to enrol David in primary school and Carl and Winston enrolled little Simon and the small village school was keen to welcome the children and help them settle.

Greg and George were enrolled in the local secondary school which was a little further away both geographically and in terms of its connection with the villagers, nevertheless the head teacher was willing to accept the two boys. "For safety's sake we'll keep them together in the same classes" she decided. "Hopefully that'll cut down on bullying a little" she offered.

She looked at James, Mike, Daniel and Alex, who'd all attended as guardians for the two boys. "You know they are going to be the only spartans in the school, don't you?" she confirmed.

"We know" James nodded.

"Just one thing" Mike said, "I know they're only thirteen but you need to be aware that they are lovers. It's all consensual, nothing actually illegal and it was even permitted in prison. I'm just telling you because I'm not sure how well they'll hide their affection for each other."

"I'm not homophobic Mr Hill" the head said, "what boys get up to behind closed doors is up to them. But their classmates won't be so understanding, Greg and George are going to have a hard time, you know that?"

"We know" he replied, "but the boys really want to do this, they really do, it's their decision to try and come to school. If it gets too bad we'll take them out of school and teach them at home them but please, give them a chance?"

She nodded in a business-like fashion. "Term starts on the fourth of September. Have them report to my office at half past eight and we'll take it from there. You can pick up vouchers for school uniform from the secretary on your way out."

In time George and Greg settled in at secondary school. Though many of the male pupils were distrustful of the spartan pair, their early development had given them the size and build of almost full-grown human adults and they weren't bullied as much as the family had imagined, though there was a lot of verbal teasing. They also managed to make some friends with the human girls in the school and quietly studied and caught up with the education they'd missed during their incarceration.

With the help of the villagers most of James' extended family obtained jobs, generally just manual, low paid affairs but with the help of generous references from Stacey, the vicar, they were mostly able to pay their own way. Although they were comfortable in their lives, if only barely, they all knew that something was missing. "What's up honey?" Mike asked James one evening, after the younger man had gotten home from a gardening job he'd been given.

"I don't know" James admitted with a sigh. "If the temple were still intact I'd say I needed to go pray but it's been derelict since the day granddad was killed. Shit, Mike, I don't know" he said softly.

Mike pulled James into a close hug. "Honey, just because the temple's gone it doesn't mean that the need to pray will suddenly vanish. Perhaps you should pray anyway?"

"Perhaps" James admitted with a small smile. "Perhaps."