I have the right to this 10

Chapter 10: Reactions 2

Summary:

    "They can't reverse the Termination of Parental Rights, but they can cause problems. It's procedural to contact biological parents. They'll inform them that California gives them the right to challenge the adoption. I don't want to risk this dragging on, or worse, leaking."
    Tiffany lets out an incredulous snort.
    "I'm with our blonde on this one, Sah," Dustin says. "Did the Lennoxes look like innocent little doves to you?"
    "No."
    "No," he repeats. "They're a couple of bastards who got rid of their son because he didn't fit the role they assigned him in their perfect family. They're the ones who have the greatest interest in this being resolved quickly and quietly."

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Part 6 of: The Lies We Told Each Other

Fandoms: Top Gun (Movies), Thunderheart (1992), Suits (US TV 2011)

Relationships: Brigham "Harvard" Lennox/Jake "Hangman" Seresin, Sarah Kazansky/Tom "Iceman" Kazansky/Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, Rick "Hollywood" Neven/Leonard "Wolfman" Wolfe

Characters: Brigham "Harvard" Lennox, Jake "Hangman" Seresin, Sarah Kazansky, Tom "Iceman" Kazansky, Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, Leonard "Wolfman" Wolfe, Rick "Hollywood" Neven, Ray Levoi, Harvey Specter, Mike Ross, Original Adult Character(s), Original Child Character(s) 

Additional Tags: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Trans Male Character, Asexual Character, Transphobia, Polyamory, Phone Sex, Adoption 

INDEX: https://palabraspulsares.blogspot.com/p/i-have-right-to-this-lies-we-told-each.html

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Monday, April 6, 2020

Black Lane Law Offices, Los Angeles

 

Tiffany knocks formally twice to announce her presence. Sahara briefly raises her eyes, gestures for her to enter, and goes back to typing on her computer. Her face has that peculiar crease across her chin that forms when she's upset.

The visitor sits down in one of the comfortable seats, crosses one leg over the other, and arranges her long blond hair, which she wears loose today.

"From your face, I can see you've already read the memo."

Sahara nods and answers without stopping typing.

"When we got the case, I thought it was a gift. This is a piece of cake, I thought. Visiting our clients will be like taking a vacation. You know, going down the coast, strolling along the seaside in San Diego, even going to SeaWorld. I should have known everything would go to hell!"

Tiffany smiles, a little sad. The hours in the legal business are incredibly demanding, and disguising rest as work is a typical strategy. Yes, when she saw they'd been assigned the case, she too thought it was Black and Lane's way of rewarding them. It would be almost like before, when they shared that shoebox in Chinatown thanks to the Zhao family's benevolence and escaped to look at the ocean, because that was all they could afford on their assistant salaries. Five years have passed, and Dustin, Sahara, and she are rising stars in the always torrid world of celebrity family feuds. Now they have the money to go on a real vacation, but there's never enough time.

"Look on the bright side," she rests her elbows on the armrests of the chair and joins her fingertips, "this time it's about uniting a family, not tearing it apart with as little bloodshed as possible."

Sahara's mouth curls up in a gesture of reluctant acceptance. The phone rings, and she connects the call on the speakerphone.

"Hello colleagues."

Dustin sounds jovial, but there's shouting in the background.

"Where are you calling from?" Tiffany asks.

"The mediation session I told you about. My client and her ex are" a crash of broken wood, "expressing their feelings physically."

The two women exchange an intrigued glance.

"Can you elaborate on that?"

"It's not that complicated, attorney Twaines," their friend replies mockingly. "We're in a destructive therapy session. My client, her ex, the court-appointed therapist, her legal representative, and I are in a rage room. With the therapist's help, they take turns breaking things while listing all the grudges they hold against each other."

Sahara looks at Tiffany skeptically, and she nods, albeit a little hesitantly. She's always been more of an intellectual woman than a physical one. Still, Dustin is in the midst of a divorce between two bodybuilders who provide personalized fitness training to wealthy individuals and have created a health food brand. It makes sense that... Another crash is heard.

"But do you have to be there?" she asks, not hiding his anguish.

"Oh! Definitely. My client and her ex demanded that their legal teams be present, so they'd have witnesses since they can't film it." He snorts. "They've lost all sense of privacy after so many Instagram reels. We had to fill out a ton of paperwork, for insurance. But the helmet looks cool on me. What? Uh!"

"What's wrong?" Tiffany demands when the silence stretches for almost a minute.

"They're kissing. The therapist looks very pleased. She seems to have known what was going to happen. Well, that's her job, not mine."

Dustin's voice changes pitch and volume, as if he's moved the phone away to speak to someone across the room.

"Do you think…? No? But… Okay, okay. Hey, I have to go to..., for another case. Thanks."

Footsteps, a door opening and closing.

"Update: They're kissing, but the therapist says they're still getting divorced. So, the Lennox adoption case, huge twist, huh?"

"That's a way of calling it," Sahara confirms.

"Look at it on the bright side, sister. We're bringing a family together. We usually help break them up."

Sahara gives Tiffany an exasperated look. She shrugs in a silent "I told you so."

"So," the blonde tries to get the meeting back on track, "strategy. Are we going to complete the adoption first, and then file for the legal gender change, or are we going to try for a concurrent process?"

"We're in California, and the family has money. Based on those factors alone, I'd go for concurrent. But…"

Dustin completes Sahara's idea without any problems.

"...but you're afraid that by combining both procedures, we risk the child's biological family finding out and causing problems."

"They can't," Tiffany reminds them. "They already signed the Petition for Termination of Parental Rights, and it was filed last Tuesday with the appropriate court. As far as Utah is concerned, that's rock solid. Everything else is up to California. You really think they're going to come all the way here to appeal the legitimacy of the AD 926, AD 880, and AD 924 they signed in front of a room full of lawyers? After they initiated the process? What are they going to tell the court? 'We don't want anyone to adopt him because he's trans, and we'd rather send him to a re-education camp.' Please!"

Sahara shakes her head.

"They can't reverse the Termination of Parental Rights, but they can cause problems. It's procedural to contact biological parents. They'll inform them that California gives them the right to challenge the adoption. I don't want to risk this dragging on, or worse, leaking."

Tiffany lets out an incredulous snort.

"I'm with our blonde on this one, Sah," Dustin says. "Did the Lennoxes look like innocent little doves to you?"

"No."

"No," he repeats. "They're a couple of bastards who got rid of their son because he didn't fit the role they assigned him in their perfect family. They're the ones who have the greatest interest in this being resolved quickly and quietly."

"I bet they already knew he's trans," Tiffany adds.

Sahara twists her lips, repulsed by the idea. The worst part is that it's the most logical scenario.

"Okay, let's work to make this child's wait for legal recognition as short as possible. We'll do a concurrent process."

Tiffany throws her fist in the air, victorious.

"If we hurry, we can submit the first documents by lunchtime," she says. "We should prioritize the paperwork for school."

"Since you're so excited, have your team take care of the rest of the paperwork for the legal gender change."

"With pleasure, Sah."

"Ah!" She taps her index finger on her planner a couple of times. "We should ask them if they want us to draw up a post-adoption sibling contact agreement. From what Bringham Lennox told us about that envelope full of photos the eldest gave him in secret, those children might want one."

"They're minors, and even if they want it, it would be difficult, given the position of the biological parents," the blonde says.

"Yes, but that's something they'll ask them in the Social Worker interviews and at the initial family court hearing. They need to have an answer. It will prove that, even though it was sudden, they take Pete's overall well-being seriously."

"I think we can propose addressing that requirement with a two-part plan: We'll offer to draft a standard post-adoption sibling contact agreement, which Martin and Shines would attempt to complete in Salt Lake City. If Christian and Constanza Lennox don't allow post-adoption contact between Pete and the rest of their children."

"Which its what is going to happen," Sahara growls.

"Of course, but the court will want evidence," Dustin continues. "So when the official refusal form arrives, we ask the court to record and seal a memorandum of intent for post-adoption sibling contact."

Tiffany stamps her feet on the floor.

"I like it, I like it."

"You like anything that involves punching controlling parents in the face."

"Tell me something my therapist hasn't already told me, dear."

"Can I go on?" Dustin complains.

Although Sahara has a pretty good idea of where her friend is going, she says.

"Of course, counselor. You have the floor."

"Thank you. As I was saying, a memorandum of intent. Jacob Mitchell-Seresin and Brigham Lennox will agree to keep Pete informed of his siblings' whereabouts, as long as his therapist confirms it won't harm him. They will also agree to use various means to let the siblings know about Pete at least twice a year, until Abraham Lennox turns eighteen and can decide to contact his brother himself. We'll even offer to produce evidence of these actions when the San Diego County Adoption Agency does their check-in next year."

"You love spy shit, Dustin," Sahara can't hide the amusement in her voice.

He decides it's not worth replying to the dig. So instead, he closes the meeting.

"Well, now that we're on the same page, I have to get back to my rabid bodybuilder. I'll see you in an hour at the office. Oh, and don't worry about the San Diego County Adoption Agency, Sah darling. I've got one of my interns investigating. Whoever they assign us, we'll even know who's selling them tomatoes."

 

Wednesday, April 8, 2020

University City, San Diego

 

Jake parks in front of the house, gets out of the car, and walks around to get Pete out of his car seat. The moment he hits the ground, the boy runs to the door. Jake and Brig exchange amused glances. Pete pauses to take off his shoes in the foyer, but he looks inside the house, eager to share his adventures.

"Iná, Mavdad," he shouts, "where are you?"

"In the kitchen," Maverick replies.

Pete puts his shoes in the rack with clumsy fingers and runs again. His grandpa rounds the kitchen counter to get away from the stove, crouches, and opens his arms. Pete throws himself at him, and only years of training keep the shove from knocking Maverick off balance.

"Mavdad, mavdad, you won't believe it!" he announces excitedly.

Maverick laughs as he stands up with the child in his arms and places him on one of the stools.

"Let's see, tell me."

"Say hello first, Pete," Brig warns, arriving at the kitchen with a more relaxed pace, followed by Jake.

The boy pouts and lowers his eyes, suddenly embarrassed.

"Good afternoon, Grandpa Maverick," he says tensely.

Jake twists his lips in frustration. Why is he reacting so strongly to a small comment? He looks questioningly at Brig, who makes a reassuring gesture. Yes, it's true, they must be patient. Pete has been with the family for less than a week.

Maverick, as usual, solves it with action.

"Good afternoon, Pete. Did you have a good time with your dad and daddy? Please tell me."

The boy raises his eyes, happy again, but looks at his father first.

"Go ahead," Brig encourages him, "tell him."

Pete turns to his grandfather.

"I'm going to go to a new school!"

Maverick feigns surprise perfectly.

"Really?"

"Yes! My new school is called Marie Curie. Marie Curie was a really cool lady from…" he turns to Jake.

"Polish, darling, Polish," his dad tells him, smiling.

"Yeah, that's right, a Polish lady who was a scientist. Spiderman was born thanks to her. He isn't as cool as Blue Beetle, but he's okay."

"Of course," Maverick has already learned that few things are better than Blue Beetle. "And did you like school?"

Pete nods exaggeratedly, brimming with enthusiasm.

"Yes, it's very nice. It has a big playground and it's just for little boys and girls, because it's an elementary school. The principal's name is Mrs. Duren, and my teacher's name is Mrs. Monastero. I saw the class through a window. They don't wear uniforms! And they also have an after-school art program. And my dad said I can join to learn how to make comics. And…" He stops short, wrinkles his nose. "…and I have to pee."

Jake grabs him under the armpits and lowers him to the ground.

"Then let's go up to your room. While you're at it, you can take a bath before dining, okay?"

Pete nods and heads upstairs with his daddy via the kitchen stairs. Brig watches them go, entranced. Maverick returns to the stove but keeps an eye on his son-in-law.

"So, everything went well?"

Brig shakes his head, as if waking from a dream. He sits down on the stool his son left and nods.

"Yes, the documents were all correct, and the legal team's instructions were spot on. There were no problems at the clinic, the school district, or the school."

"Will he finally be in Coyote's little girl's classroom?"

"Yeah."

"Then you have to tell them."

Brig grimaces in discomfort. Maverick sighs, puts the wooden spoon on the stove, and faces him.

"I know you want to keep him within the family, that you feel you're protecting him that way, but we can't put it off any longer. Pete needs to integrate into a broader social group. Not just because it'll be good for him to already know someone at school. Remember, the Social Services interviews are coming up soon. We have to tell the squad to maintain control of the narrative."

"You talk like you're a PR executive."

Maverick ignores the tone between whining and accusing.

"I've had to be a lot of things in my life, Brig. Do you think this house and these secrets stood on their own? And yes, not everything worked out, but we survived. Now we can do better. You need the Daggers' support, not just Simpson's. So the sooner they find out about Pete, the sooner we'll know who to trust and who," he pauses briefly, says the next word with a decidedly menacing tone, "needs to be given new assignments."

Brig stares at him, torn between admiration and fear. Being a grandfather has made Maverick lose what little restraint he had. He's ready to turn the Navy upside down to protect Pete. Although it's also possible that he was never close enough to notice? It could be. After all, he had known them as a child, but the rift between Jake and his family meant Brig had missed out on seeing them through adult eyes.

He decides that the past is not worth pondering.

"Okay. We'll have the usual Saturday barbecue for the squad."

His father-in-law nods.

"I'll tell you tomorrow."

"And when is Ice coming back?"

Maverick grimaces in disgust.

"He has to go to DC first, to schmooze some politicians who want to do some shit in Japan. He'll stop here on the way back. So, next week."

Brig nods. He figures Ice's visit to DC won't be solely for Pacific Fleet matters. His divorce from Sarah must have leaked out, and he needs to control the narrative as well. The story they'll be spreading will confirm Leonard and Rick's worst opinions about Kazansky, but he can't do anything about that. If his father-in-law is finally elected Secretary of the Navy, they'll move to Virginia, but that won't be until next year. He has more pressing matters, like learning to read bedtime stories and drilling for the investigation by the San Diego County Adoption Agency. His legal team sent them a rather thick dossier, with instructions on how to answer the questions, local resources for Pete, and a profile of the social worker assigned to them: Steve Torrens.

He drums his fingers on the countertop.

"Don't you think we should invite Sam and Elia before the squad?" he asks cautiously.

His father-in-law presses his lips together in annoyance, but doesn't say no immediately, so he considers it a victory. After a few seconds, Pete grunts and returns to the stove.

"Yes, you're right," he says without looking at him, gripping the wooden spoon a little more tightly than necessary. "We'll ask them to come here from work on Friday and stay until Sunday."

"Pete, I'm sorry that…"

"You have nothing to apologize for, Harvard," he cuts him off. "My failures with my kids are my own doing." He laughs, but it's a forced, bitter sound. "Get used to the idea that no matter how hard you try, you're going to screw up. Very few people are as lucky as Rick and Leonard."

 

Friday, April 10, 2020

Navy Assigned Housing, MCAS Miramar

 

Natasha and Bob are just arranging the sofa cushions when the laptop announces the call. She accepts.

"Hello Rooster."

Their friend smiles. Behind him, they see a nondescript wall, probably a hotel near the base. They don't know why, but he told them he'd be leaving MCAS Iwakuni to talk to them. That's why they're talking now, since the time difference means it's already Saturday morning in Japan.

"Hello little birds."

"Is everything okay in Japan?"

"As good as could be expected. We haven't had any problems with the weather. Honestly, I have more work to do with wedding planning than with my squad."

This causes them to make mocking expressions.

"Oh! Did you hear that, Bob? Bradley's complaining that he's going to marry a king. Poor thing!"

"Yes, yes. I can imagine how you struggle with the budget and finding a venue for the date you chose."

Bradshaw pouts, slightly offended.

"I don't even know why I have friends like you. No one understands that this is an important moment in my life, and I want to maintain some control over what will happen."

She rolls her eyes.

"Keep control with your hips, Casanova. And focus on having something to do after you get married. You don't have the character to be a harem ornament. I mean, is it called a harem?"

"I don't know how it's going to be a harem if it's just me and their cousin, the wife they saddled us with to ensure heirs. She's as interested in me as I am in her, by the way."

"You can always go together to the Monaco Grand Prix or Paris Fashion Week while the Royal Majesty rules," Bob suggests.

"I can't believe you're saying that with a straight face," Natasha admits.

He shrugs and smiles sideways.

"Lorne Michaels have no idea of what he lost."

This does elicit a brief laugh from Bradley.

"So, how is the night over there?"

Bob gives his girlfriend a brief glance and then looks back at the screen.

"Maverick has us running so many simulations that our idea of a good night its now getting home, showering, eating, and going to sleep."

Natasha nods, puts an arm around her WSO's shoulders, and adds.

"We thought last week without Brig had been tough, ha! Jake wasn't there this week either, and now he's really going crazy. He's redesigning all our maneuvers. The worst part is, whatever it is, Simpson's in it too."

Seeing her friend's face on the screen, smiling but not surprised, Natasha realizes.

"And that's why you called, right? You know what's going on."

"Tomorrow, at the barbecue at the house in University City."

The couple nods simultaneously. They were overjoyed by Maverick's invitation the previous day. They took it as a sign that whatever he was worried about wasn't life-threatening. Their captain isn't the type to party when there are storm clouds on the horizon.

"The barbecue is for an announcement. I thought it best to warn you all; I don't want you to lose it in public."

Phoenix and Bob exchange an intrigued look but immediately return their attention to Bradley.

"Well," she urges him, "what is it?"

"You know Brig had to run to Utah." The couple nods. "Well, I can't get into specifics, and I don't think it's necessary. The fact is, he came back with custody of his seven-year-old nephew. He and Jake are in the process of adopting him. His name is Pete, and after the paperwork is completed, he'll be Pete Mitchell-Lennox."

Natasha stares at the screen, waiting. At any moment, Bradley will raise his hands, fingers extended, eyes wide, and shout, "Ha ha ha. Innocents! How could you believe that?" But no. Her friend remains serious, looking at her with some concern.

"Wait! Are you serious?"

His face goes from concern to annoyance in an instant.

"Do you think I can joke about something like that?"

Natasha opens her mouth, but feels Bob's hand on her thigh and closes it before she can say anything inconvenient. Bradley was adopted, she remembers, and for him, this isn't something that can be taken lightly. She raises her hands in surrender.

"No, no, not at all. It's just that…"

"It's just that everything is very sudden," Bob intervenes.

She nods vigorously and gives him a grateful look. Being Bob's partner, both on the air and in bed, is the best thing that could have happened to her. Aware that she could still say something she will regret, he continues the conversation.

"So they're going to get married? They'd kick one of them off the squad."

"No. They're walking the line on this: as long as they don't get married, there's no official reason to separate them. The Daggers have already proven their worth, haven't they? Also, the DoD has no interest in fixing what isn't broken. All Cyclone wants is for all missions from now on to be planned with only one of them in the air at a time."

"That's sensible," Phoenix agrees.

Bradley smiles at her again, something like fear once again coloring his eyes.

"Nat, I wish I could be there for Jake, but I can't. I need you to..."

She raises an eyebrow, skeptical.

"Come on, Brad, you said he's seven, he's already potty trained, right? Jake's just going to have to learn to live without going to the Hard Deck whenever he wants to win every damn time at darts. How exactly do you expect me to comfort him for that?"

His friend closes his eyes, rubs the bridge of his nose, and sighs. Bob smacks his lips disapprovingly.

She looks at them alternately, a confused expression on her face.

"What? What?"

"Nat, love, have you ever heard Brig talk about his family in Utah?"

She wrinkles her forehead.

"No?" she answers doubtfully.

Bob nods.

"No. Because he always says he grew up in Arizona with his adoptive parents. However, suddenly his biological family calls him and he returns with a child. It's clear something bad happened in Utah. Little Pete must be traumatized by the loss."

"Oh!"

She turns to the screen, contrite.

"I'm so sorry, Brad, I didn't think..." She throws up her hands, frustrated. "It's Hangman, okay? We're on the same team now, and he's not such a jerk to the squad anymore, but he's still the same ruthless guy to everyone else. You should have seen him three weekends ago at the Hard Deck, when a Marine tried to flirt with Brig. He made her cry with two sentences."

Bradley lets out a short, amused chuckle.

"Yeah, Jake is territorial. It's in his blood." His lips curl to give his face a sly expression.

Like someone who knows more than everyone else, Natasha thinks. But she doesn't say anything, because Maverick invited them to his house, the house he shares with Admiral Kazansky, but that doesn't mean they know all his secrets. Instead, she says.

"Okay, really. I have no experience with traumatized children, but I know how to listen. Not because I'm a girl!" she warns him before he can repeat the old joke about her feminine nature. "I know how to listen because I have a bunch of sisters."

Her mind immediately goes to her nieces and nephews and the strategies she uses to maintain her cool aunt status.

"Should we bring him a gift?"

"No, you'll make the rest of the squad look bad. Is your Wonder Woman T-shirt clean?"

She stares at him, bewildered. How can she possibly know which of her T-shirts are clean all of a sudden?

"Yes," her wonderful Bob answers, "it's clean."

Bradley nods.

"Wear it. Then let Bob be a nerd with Pete, and you'll be cool by transitive relation."

"Hey!" the WSO protests.

She silences him with a finger to his lips.

"You're a nerd, baby. The hottest nerd in the US Navy."

Bob sticks the tip of his tongue out between his lips and touches her finger. The wet touch makes her whole body shiver.

"And that's my cue. See you soon!"

"Yes, see you soon, Rooster," she answers distractedly.

She barely hears the sound of the video call disconnecting, focused as she is on the feel of her finger sliding in and out of Bob's mouth.

It's he who closes the laptop and puts it away, who proposes, his voice hoarse with excitement, but still reasonable.

"Shall we go up?"

 

Saturday, April 11, 2020

University City, San Diego

 

Coyote is the first to arrive, almost at eleven. He and María Celeste tried to delay it as long as possible, but their daughters are enthralled by the Kazanstky-Mitchell family home. Specifically, by the backyard with monkey bars and the spectacular video game room. This morning at eight, they were dressed and hair done—in their own way, of course—with the statement that their homework had been done and their beds made, so, please, "When are we going to Uncle Jake's?"

Jackie and Celeste, like any pair of seven-year-olds, can be incredibly persistent. So at ten, Javier gave in to their pleas and called Jake to see if it was okay to arrive a little early, like, right now, man, because these girls are going to kill me with their sad faces. To his surprise, his friend seemed delighted by the idea. So here they are, with a bowl of potato salad and two excited little girls in the backseat.

Luckily, their seat belts have a safety feature that prevents them from undoing until the car's engine is off. Even so, they manage to get out before Javier and his wife and run to the front door. Since they can't reach the bell, they bang on the wood.

"Uncle Jake!"

"Mr. Maverick!"

"Mrs. Sarah!"

"Uncle Brig!"

They call out with their high-pitched, cheerful voices.

María Celeste gives her husband an amused look as he strides forward. At least the girls have enough respect for Kazansky not to include him in their shouting. No matter what their friend Jake says, the admiral still seems too taciturn to them to be intimate with him.

"Who is it?"

"It's us, Mrs. Kazansky," Jackie replies. "We came to play."

The door finally opens, and Sarah Kazansky bends down to face them.

"So, you come to play?"

"Yes," Celeste repeats. "My dad called Uncle Jake, and he said we could play in the backyard. Can we?"

She looks at them, smiling, and briefly raises her eyes to María Celeste and Javier. The mother gives the tiniest nod, and only then does Sarah replies.

"Of course you can come in. Be careful when you go down to the backyard."

The girls barely pay attention to her. She stands up and makes an inviting gesture to the couple.

"Is that potato salad?"

"Yeah."

"Excellent. You have no idea how much Elia loves your recipe."

They walk to the back of the house. In the kitchen, they find Sam and her girlfriend chopping tomatoes and cabbage for the salad.

"Good morning. Are we too early?"

"Not at all," Sam replies, without stopping the cutting. "The more, the merrier."

But the comment doesn't come across as jovial, but somewhat sarcastic. Javier and his wife exchange a puzzled look.

"Elia, Maria Celeste brought the potato salad you like so much."

"Great!" She puts down her knife and walks over to grab the container. "You brought enough for a battalion! I'm sure there's plenty, and we can take some home with us." She stops next to her girlfriend on the way to the fridge on the terrace. "Wouldn't that be great, Sam?"

Samantha Kazansky raises her face, her lips pressed into a line and her eyes hard, and swallows before finally saying, reluctantly.

"Yes, that would be great." She pauses, looks doubtfully at the Machados, and adds, "Thank you very much, María Celeste. We really like your salad."

"Thanks, Sam, I like yours…"

"No! There's no need. I know what my strengths are, and cooking isn't one of them."

María Celeste doesn't say anything, because it's true.

Elia breaks the awkward silence that follows by returning with a bottle of beer and another of apple cider.

"Who will drive back?"

She beats her husband by a second. She takes a sip of beer and sighs with satisfaction.

"Him, of course," she proclaims.

Javier's gaze moves from the cider bottle to his wife, as if he still can't understand what happened.

"You took too long to shoot, Coyote."

Brig's mocking comment is accompanied by a pat on the shoulder.

"Look who's talking," he replies as he turns away, but the rest dies on his lips.

Brig has a blond boy leaning on his hip, looking at him out of the corner of his eye, half his face pressed against the aviator's broad chest. Harvard smiles at him, but the tension in his posture is evident. Jake appears behind his boyfriend.

"Hey! Javi, María Celeste. Are the girls in the backyard?"

"Yes, of course," he answers automatically.

Who is this boy? His gray eyes and hair color remind him of... but that can't be right? He's a very calculating man; he wouldn't make a mistake like that. Besides, he has his wife, Maverick, and the Pacific Fleet. At what time...? Although it would explain Samantha Kazansky's bad mood. He looks at his friend, anxious.

"Pete," Jake is saying, "I want you to meet Javier and María Celeste Machado. Javier is an aviator, like your dad and me."

That catches the boy's attention enough for him to straighten up and face them. He blinks several times, his expression curious and cautious.

"You fly planes?"

"Yeah."

"You fly planes?"

María Celeste lets out a laugh.

"Better, I built them," she answers proudly.

Pete's eyes sparkle with admiration.

"Wow." He shakes his legs a couple of times to get Brig to put him down and walks over to her, completely ignoring Coyote. "Can you show me?"

María Celeste laughs again, takes the boy by the hand, and, after a brief glance at Sarah, walks with him toward the terrace. Sam and Elia look happy, Sarah is proud, and Brig and Jake are surprised and amused.

It's the first time Javier has been displaced by his wife in coolness. He watches Pete and María Celeste's chatter with something close to panic. What can he say? Nothing that won't put him in danger of sleeping on the couch for a couple of days. So, he'd better deal with the gossip. He approaches Brig.

"So, your son?" he asks softly.

"Yes, he is my biological nephew, and we just adopted him."

"We…?

"You don't think I'd let him be a single father, do you?" Jake chimes in and smiles proudly.

"And his name is Pete?"

Harvard shrugs.

"He came with that name. That he is now called Pete Mitchell is just a coincidence."

Javier's eyes widen. Pete Mitchell? A blond, gray-eyed Pete Mitchell. He can already imagine the earthquake, the gossip, the bets, the conspiracy theories.

"By the way," Jake continues, "he will be in your daughters' classroom starting Monday."

He wants to slap himself in the face. Why didn't he grab the beer?

Pete is a seven-year-old boy, so his focus on aerodynamic mechanics doesn't last long. Maria Celeste takes him to where her twins play, makes a customary introduction, and leaves. She lets them have their own fun, running and screaming between the monkey bars.

The rest of the day goes well, although with more than one surprise.

Maverick arrives loaded with burritos, almost simultaneously with Natasha and Bob. Phoenix chose a Wonder Woman T-shirt today. It fits her like a second skin. When Fitch and Garcia arrive, the latter's gaze lingers a few seconds longer than appropriate on his companion's torso.

"Eyes up here, sailor!" Nat demands, to which Fanboy reacts with an embarrassed smile.

"It's not what it looks like." She raises a mocking eyebrow, and several incredulous chuckles echo. "No, really! That's the Wonder Woman from The New 52 continuity. I had no idea you were interested in collectible T-shirts, Phoenix."

She looks at herself, slightly confused. She turns to Bob.

"You never told me…"

He shrugs and tries to hide his discomfort with an expression of disinterest.

"It's not that important. I only bought it because I thought it would look good on you, you..." he blushes a little. "You are like Diana Prince."

"Really?"

All eyes turn to Pete, who has suddenly appeared among the group of adults.

"Really what?" Natasha asks, stalling.

"Are you really like Wonder Woman?" He looks at her hands and hips. "Where's your Lasso of Truth?"

"Well…"

"Oh! She definitely has a Lasso of Truth, it's just hidden," Jake says, his eyes mocking as he picks up his son and sits him on his lap. "Phoenix just keeps staring at you. All of a sudden, your knees start to shake, your tummy starts to growl, your forehead starts to sweat, you try to keep your mouth shut until... Bum!" Pete jumps a little but doesn't take his eyes off his daddy. "You have to confess whatever you did."

The boy smiles and turns to her again.

"And you have an invisible plane?"

"Well, technically, yes," Maverick chimes in. "Natasha flies an F-18 that can fly so high and so fast it can't be seen with human eyes. Plus, it has state-of-the-art cloaking technology. It's invisible to radar."

Now Pete's gaze is rapturous. Suddenly, his brow furrows, his eyes wide open. He leans toward Jake and speaks close to his ear, his hand covering his mouth, but he forgets to turn down the volume, so the whole group can hear his failed whispering.

"Daddy?"

"Yeah?"

"What if she lassoes me?" Natasha's heart breaks as she recognizes the fear.

What can a seven-year-old hide? What terrible secrets does he imagine and fear he'll be forced to betray?

"Hey, hey, Pete, listen. You know that with great power comes great responsibility, right?"

Over the little one's head, she sees Fanboy, Bob, and Coyote's shocked expressions. Yes, she knows it's from Spiderman and there's a massive difference between DC and Marvel, but they're in a desperate situation, aren't they?

Pete looks at her, clearly torn between admiration and caution.

"Yeah."

"So you know I would never, ever force you to reveal a secret without a good reason. Besides, the Justice League is only interested in secrets that affect the safety of the planet. They have a great deal of respect for everyone's privacy."

"True," the boy confirms very seriously.

"Hey, sweetie," Sam chimes in, "do you want to have a burrito with your new friends?"

Before answering, Pete looks at Brig as if asking for permission. The Daggers don't miss the sudden expression of sadness on the faces of the Kazansky-Mitchell family at the gesture.

"Your aunt had a great idea. Those burritos are delicious. Go on," he lifts him off Jake's lap, "go find Jackie and Celeste."

"Yes," Javier agrees, "if they miss lunch, they get in a bad mood."

While the kids are at the kitchen table eating burritos and salad, Maverick starts the grill for the afternoon's steak. Soon, Hawking, Halo, and Omaha arrive. After widening their eyes upon learning of their squadmates' sudden fatherhood, they rush to congratulate them.

No one can help but notice that things are different for Emily "Hawking" Shilling. They don't hold it against her because, after all, she wasn't on the Mission, and they know she still finds her captain's leadership style, which has turned the Daggers into an extension of his family, somewhat confusing. She's more measured in her reactions, and for the rest of the afternoon, she continues to give Jake and Brig confused glances. Emily had heard the rumors about their intense codependence, of course, but seeing them like this, in this domestic setting, is still disconcerting.

The latest to join are Fritz, his wife Diane, their baby Faith, and Yale, who is reluctant to buy his own car because, after all, he lives next door to his WSO. Their reactions also testify to the fact that they've grown accustomed to the special kind of chaos that comes with being under Maverick Mitchell's command. The two men widen their eyes slightly, shake their heads, and rush over to introduce themselves to Pete.

Diane Avalon, on the other hand, looks from the baby carrier where her almost one-year-old daughter is shaking a rattle to Pete Mitchell-Lennox, standing very upright in front of her with his hand outstretched. Her face shows the signs of chronic exhaustion common in the first two years of motherhood. Growing up in the same Kentucky town as her husband, Diane was in more of a hurry than he was to escape with the help of the Navy. She has followed Billy for almost eight years, never complaining about the nomadic life, the disappearances on secret missions, the uncertainty. But that has changed since the Mission and with the creation of VFA-111, the Daggers. She has forged a bond with Callie Bassett, Natasha Trace, María Celeste Machado, Sam, and Sarah Kazansky, even with the oddball Emily Shilling. She knows she is not like them, sophisticated women, but they accepted her without trying to change her or belittle her. She doesn't want to lose this mismatched family.

"So you're from Utah?" she asks, shaking his little hand.

"Yes, Mrs. Avalon."

"Diane's fine, Pete."

"Yes, Mrs. Diane."

"You have very good manners, that's good. We're family now, because my husband flies with your parents. Do you understand?"

Pete's gray eyes flick from Dianne's face to the baby carrier. He presses his lips together, serious.

"Yes, I understand."

She just nods, stern despite the happiness fluttering in her chest. Her Faith will need an older brother, and it seems the kid Brig and Jake conjured up is at least willing to try.

"Good." She smiles at him. It's a small smile, but it spreads to her eyes. The boy smiles back shyly.

"Now go play, or you won't have an appetite when your grandfather has the barbecue ready."

That's the kind of order you don't usually have to say twice to a seven-year-old. But Pete looks over his shoulder at Jake.

"Go, son," the man approves.

Only then does the boy run back to whatever the Machado twins are up to. Diane turns to Seresin.

"Thank you."

She shrugs.

"It's nothing." She looks down at her baby. "I have to change her diaper."

And since she's already familiar with the house, she heads towards the bathroom next to the office.

She spends the afternoon studying the boy and his new parents. What happened to Brig's biological family? She's heard horror stories about Utah and the Mormons since she was a child, but they were told by her redneck, backwater, sexist relatives, so she's never been sure how much was true and how much was myth. It doesn't matter, Diane senses something in Pete that she can't define, but that makes her want to embrace him and hide him from the world. From what she can see, the rest of his family is trying to contain that same impulse.

"He likes to defy death," a wife at the previous base told her when she shared the only thing she knew about the Mission: that the instructor was the infamous Maverick. It wasn't until she came to San Diego in December that she realized Kazansky and Mitchell—always the two of them, she shouldn't forget—also liked to collect strays.

"A drink?"

María Celeste Machado stands in front of her with two bottles of beer.

She thinks about it for a bit, maybe too much, because Callie elbows her in the side.

"You're not breastfeeding, aren't you? What's the problem?"

"True," she holds out her hand.

Maria Celeste hands her the drink and pulls up a chair to sit across from the couch where Diane, Callie, and Natasha enjoy the shade and the beautiful scenery of sweaty men around the meat grill.

"Hey! Not there, you're blocking my view," Phoenix demands.

María Celeste lets out a short laugh but moves her seat until it is at a right angle to one side of the sofa.

"Better?"

"Perfect," the aviator nods, and looks back at the barbecue in rapture.

"So... Pete?" Machado asks softly.

"I swear just when I think everything's coming together, this family throws a curveball at me," Callie sighs.

"At least we don't have to worry about Brig leaving Jake for a less insufferable blonde," Natasha says.

María Celeste rolls her eyes. She's known Jake for a long time, and she's aware of his tenderness. Natasha's persistence in portraying him as insufferable is...

"So repetitive. Weren't you working on that with therapy?"

Natasha, always mature, sticks out her tongue at her.

"Ladies, please." Diane feels really old being the voice of reason. "He's a very sweet and polite boy. If we want this Daggers thing to work, children are important."

"You sound like a character from The Firm," Callie complains, because she's as nerdy as Bob and Mickey Garcia, but she only lets it show around other women.

Diane takes a sip, shrugs, and answers.

"I don't want to move again and go back to the ritual of meeting new military wives. They're generally narrow-minded and very gossipy."

"Yeah, because we're not given to gossip."

"What are you saying, Mrs. Machado?" Natasha smiles. "We just comment in detail on the community's social interactions."

"For example, the fact that Amelia Benjamin is dating Simpson's oldest grandson," a male voice says.

The man leans over the back of the sofa to offer them a platter of finely chopped meat, tomatoes, and olives. Callie quickly takes it and places it on the coffee table in front of them.

Natasha turns her head to see Jake, who is smirking.

"So you're the wife?" she snaps.

The blond pouts, glances briefly at Brig, who is helping Pete eat, and returns his eyes to the four women.

"I can be whatever I want, Phoenix. I have the right to that."

----------------------------------

THE END

INDEX: https://palabraspulsares.blogspot.com/p/i-have-right-to-this-lies-we-told-each.html