Welcome to Gaia! ::

I awoke before dawn. The only noise that I could hear was Valentine’s steady, deep breathing. His arm was draped over my waist, his head resting against my shoulder. I lay there for a moment, looking at the wall, I sighed.
“What’s wrong?” I jumped slightly. I turned onto my other side, so that I was facing Valentine. His dark grey eyes studied my face intently. I shook my head.
“Nothing. Don’t worry about it, I’m sorry I woke you.”
“No, there’s something wrong. Tell me, amant,” he said. I knew it was impossible to pretend.
“Well...I’ve been thinking...I want a baby,” I blurted. Valentine smiled.
“You know that if I could, I would give that to you. But it’s not biologically possible, Luke.”
“I know, but what about adoption?” I said. “I mean, all those straight couples have babies and a lot of them have to give those babies to adoption...wouldn’t it be great to give an orphan baby a family?” Valentine thought for a moment.
“I suppose,” he said slowly. “But do you really think a kid would want two dads? What would they call us?”
“I don’t know. It was just a thought,” I snapped, turning my back to him. There was a long silence, then Valentine propped himself up on his elbow and looked down at me.
“Okay. If you can come up with something for a child to call you or me besides ‘Dad’ or ‘Daddy’, then we’ll start looking for a baby to adopt. Deal?”
“Deal,” I said, smiling, and he leaned down and kissed me.

“So, if you come up with something, you can adopt a baby?” Kim asked, intrigued. I nodded, stirring sweetener into my coffee. “Well, Val is French, right?”
“Yup. It's part of what made me like him so much. His accent is absolutely gorgeous. I've always liked French culture and people, anyway. Why do you think I speak the language so fluently?" Kim laughed.
“Why don’t you find out the French word for father?” she said.
“I never thought about that. I’ll look it up now,” I said, pulling out my Blackberry. Kim waited patiently while I looked it up. “Here it is. Père.”
“I think that’ll work. Run that by him tonight. Preferably in English," she added, smiling.

That night, Valentine announced he was taking me out to dinner.
“What’s the occasion?” I asked, as I pulled on my jeans and started searching for a shirt. He wrapped his arms around my waist and rested his chin on my shoulder.
“None, really. Just that Je aimer vou,” he said, and I smiled.
“Je aimer vou,” I replied.

As we waited for the check, Valentine and I discussed repainting the entire house.
“We could start this weekend, since we both have Monday off,” I suggested. “We can get the paint on Friday.”
“But we promised the Junipers that we would be at their annual barbecue,” he reminded me.
“Oh yeah! I’d love to see their daughter’s baby. That reminds me…” I leaned forward and smiled. “Remember the deal we made this morning?”
“Yes…” he said, eyeing me curiously.
“Well, I found a name that the child could call you or me!” I said.
“Already? Wow. Well, what is it?” he asked expectantly.
“Père. I think it would be better for you, since you’re French,” I said, as the waitress brought the check over. Valentine smiled.
“I thought you might come up with that. I just didn’t think you’d get it so fast,” he said. He paid the check and we left, walking down the sidewalk.
“So, we start looking?” I asked.
“I’ve already found,” he said. I stopped, and he turned to look at me.
“You’re serious?” I demanded. He nodded, grinning. I stood there for a moment, and I think he thought I was upset, because his smile began to fade. Then, I grabbed the front of his jacket, pulled him down so that his face was centimeters from mine, and kissed him. Oblivious to the stares of passerby, he held me close, and I was filled with pure joy. I loved him so much, and I was so happy that I had him. When we finally broke apart, I noticed that several people had stopped dead in their tracks when they saw us, and I couldn’t help blushing. Valentine, however, smiled, took my hand, and we went back home.

One year later

“She’s wonderful,” I said as we drove home from the orphanage. The baby looked up at me with a bright interest, her bright green eyes sparkling.
“Remember to blink, cheri. We wouldn’t those lovely blue eyes of yours to dry out, now would we?” Valentine said, smiling.
“Oh, be quiet,” I said, pretending to mad. “If my eyes dried out, then I wouldn’t be able to watch little Stephanie grow up, and I wouldn’t miss that for the world.”

Sixteen years later

“Stephanie, you have to tell me what’s wrong. Why do you keep getting into fights with the other students?” I asked. She didn’t look at me, didn’t speak. I sighed. “Come on, Steph. Maybe I can help you.”
“You can’t help me,” she snapped.
“I was a teenager once, I think I know how it feels.”
“No you don’t. You never will.”
“Then at least tell me why you’re constantly getting into fights,” I persisted.
“You wouldn’t understand!”
“Even if I didn’t, maybe I could help put a stop to it.”
“No, you couldn’t! You can’t magically reverse time and let me be adopted by a normal couple!” she said angrily. I was taken aback.
“Is that what it is? You’re upset that Père and I are both men?” I asked quietly. She glared at me, her lips tightening. “And other students are making fun of you because of that? Sweetheart, why didn’t you tell us?”
“Because that would just make it worse. They’d all add ‘tattle-tale’ to their list of names. They wouldn’t care that using the word tattle-tale makes them sound like they’re five years old.”
“Stephanie, if you had told us before, you wouldn’t be getting into so much trouble. Tomorrow I’ll go talk to the principal and-”
“No!” she said, jumping to her feet.
“Why not?” I asked. “Is there another reason you don’t me to talk to Mr. Lane?” She looked furiously at me, her lips trembling.
“I hate you!” she yelled, just as Valentine came in.
“Hey! What’s going on?” he said, taking off his jacket and hanging it on the back of one of the chairs. Stephanie glared from him to me, then ran to her room, black hair flying. I stood up, my vision blurred by tears. Valentine looked confused. “What happened?” I opened my mouth to tell him, but a sob escaped my throat instead. He immediately took me in his arms, and I pressed my face against his chest and sobbed. “Shh, shh, cheri. I’m here,” he murmured, holding me close to him. We stood like that for quite a while, until my sobs subsided and I pulled back a little.
“S-sorry,” I said, hiccuping slightly. I hated it when he saw me like this. I wanted to curl into a ball and hide, but he shook his head.
“Don’t be sorry, mon cher Luke. There’s nothing to be sorry about,” he said gently, wiping my tears away and laying his hand along my cheek. “Now, what happened?”
“She’s angry 'cause we’re-well, you know-and other students are making fun of her for it. She doesn’t want me to tell Mr. Lane, though,” I explained. Valentine frowned.
“Is that why she’s been getting into so many fights?” he asked. I nodded. He sighed. “Teenagers these days. They think they’re so independent. Just let her be alone for a while. She’ll cool down. Did you two already eat?”
“She did, but I wanted to wait for you,” I said, gesturing to the oven, where two steaks had been keeping warm. “I followed the directions on the package to the letter. I hope they turn out okay.” He smiled.
“I’m sure they’re fine.”

“Dad?” I looked up to see Stephanie standing in the doorway of our room. She took a deep breath. “I’m sorry about what I said earlier. I don’t hate you. You and Père are the best parents I could ever hope for.” I smiled.
“Come here.” She walked over to the bed and laid down next to me. I put down my book and wrapped my arms around her shoulders. She pressed her head against my shoulder, and I saw a tear roll down her cheek.
“You can talk to Mr. Lane tomorrow if you want,” she said shakily.
“Nah, I think you’ll be able to handle this on your own. Promise me that you won’t get into anymore fights?”
“I promise.”
Three years later

“There. You’re all unpacked,” I said, smoothing her bedspread and straightening up. Stephanie smiled and looked around.
“I can’t believe I’m going to be living here most of the time,” she said. “I’m going to miss you guys so much.” Valentine smiled and put his arm around her.
“We’ll see you at Thanksgiving and Christmas,” I told her. “And you’ll know a lot of interesting new stuff that you can tell us all about, and new friends. Okay?”
“Okay,” she said, nodding. I hugged her tightly, and Valentine hugged both of us. When we broke apart, her eyes were wet.
“I found it!” We all turned to see a tall, pretty black girl with bouncy black curls and big brown eyes. Her parents were close behind her; a tall, sturdy man and a short, plump woman. Her parents stopped when they saw us, but their daughter walked right in and dropped the large box she’d been carrying onto the other bed. She smiled. “Hi. I’m Talaya Mackey.”
“I’m Stephanie L’encour. Nice to meet you,” Stephanie replied, returned Talaya’s smile.
“I guess we’re roommates, huh?” said Talaya, as her parents walked in.
“Yup.” Stephanie smiled at Mr. and Mrs. Mackey. “Hello.”
“Hello,” said Mrs. Mackey, smiling. “I’m Diamond, pleased to meet you,” she added, addressing Valentine and I. “This is my husband, Xavier.” Mr. Mackey nodded.
“I’m Valentine, and this is my husband, Luke.” Valentine put his arm around Stephanie again. “I hope our daughters get along.”
“It would be kind of bad if they didn’t,” Diamond said. We stood there for moment, until Valentine said,
“Well, we’ll let you get settled in. Je aimer vou, Steph.” He kissed Stephanie on the forehead and walked to the doorway. I hugged Stephanie again.
“Je aimer vou,” I said.
“Je aimer vou always, Dad. See you at Thanksgiving.” I smiled and went to the doorway. Valentine put his arm around me, and we turned to leave. “Oh, and Dad?” I looked back at Stephanie, who was grinning.
“Hm?”
“Je faire pas penser le Mackeys comme vou,” she said, laughing. I shrugged.
“Son choix,” Valentine replied, and then we walked away. As we did, I heard Talaya say,
“What’s je aimer vou mean?”
“It means ‘I love you’.” I looked up at Valentine to see him smiling.
“What?” I asked.
“I think that we were the first gay married couple they’ve ever encountered,” he said, ignoring the stares of students and their parents.
“Probably,” I said, laughing.

Seven years later

“Good morning, Valentine,” I said softly, pressing my forehead against his. He smiled.
“Bonjour. To what do I owe this early morning closeness?”
“Do I have to have a reason?”
“I guess not.” We lay there for a moment, our eyes closed.
“So how does it feel to be fifty years old?” I asked.
“I feel just the same as I did yesterday,” he replied, laughing.
“Would you like to do anything special?” He thought for a moment, then shook his head.
“Just lying here with you is special.” I smiled.

One week later

I held his head in my lap, my tears mingling with his blood.
“Please don’t leave me, Valentine,” I whispered. His eyes fluttered open and locked onto me.
“Luke,” he murmured, and I managed a shaky smile. He smiled gently, and closed his eyes again. “Je aimer vou, Luke.” My tears fell faster and thicker, and a quiet sob escaped my lips.
“Je aimer vou. I love you, Valentine. More than anything in the world.” I leaned down and kissed him gently, and his breathing slowed, then ceased. It was amazing how my tears suddenly subsided, disappearing along with his life. Maybe I was at peace, or maybe I was just completely and totally crazy. As I looked down at him, I marveled at how he didn’t look fifty. His face was barely lined, and his hair was as thick and dark as it always had been. I couldn’t help smiling. Hoping he could hear me, wherever he was, I repeated myself.
“Je aimer vou.”

ah....I was using an eletronic translator, translating 'I', 'love' and 'you' one at a time...sorry!

It would technically be Je Vous Aimez, sorry, I am a bit of a language freak if you haven't noticed sweatdrop but my French teacher has had the congegations drilled into me...quite sucessfully I would hope to think.