Spartan

Readers, please note that Spartan part 5 does not follow on from the previous parts, nor is it a continuous story in itself. There are five distinct stories, set at different time periods in history.

Prequel -- James' family and his early life

This chapter of the Spartan saga does not follow from the previous books -- instead it goes back in time, it starts in the late 1940's, homosexuality is still illegal in the UK, the country is still recovering from the bleakness & hardship of the second world war, no one knows anything about the existence of Spartans and James Phillipson's fathers have just moved in together.

Characters/historical timeline:

James (Spartan) -- born 1954 Phillip (Spartan) -- James' birth father -- born 1921 Simon (Spartan) -- James' siring father -- born 1923 Thomas (Spartan) -- Phil's birth father -- born 1898 Cliff (human) -- Phil's human/siring father -- born 1900, died 1974 (old age) Paul (Spartan) -- Simon's birth father -- born 1895, killed 1992 in the riots that destroyed the temple Jim (human) -- Simon's human/siring father -- born 1903, died 1987 (old age) David (Spartan) -- Phil's brother -- born 1927 William (Spartan) -- Simon's brother -- born 1930, died 1961 (suicide) Andrew (human) -- William's human partner Carl (Spartan) -- Phil's granddad/Thomas' birth father born 1870, died 1985 (old age)

1946

"You sure this'll work, Cliff?" Phil asked his dad, eyeing the big house with suspicion. Cliff sighed. "Phillip, I promise you, this'll work. There's such a housing shortage that no one'll care. As far as they're concerned, you're just a pair of bachelors who are sharing because you can't find digs of your own. Don't be so concerned."

"Don't be so concerned? Dad," Phil began but Cliff hissed at him, "quiet!"

"Cliff" Phil said, then sighed. "See? I should be able to call you dad, or father at least but I can't. I'm sure people'll notice and report us" he said sceptically.

"People have more on their minds than who's sharing with who at the moment. Boy, you know as well as I do that your neighbours will be more concerned with making sure they have enough ration coupons and when the rubble from the next street over'll be cleared. As far as they are concerned you two are simply sharing the flat since you can't afford your own and you know that as well as I do. Now stop panicking and relax!" Cliff said sternly, his accent still betraying his Home Counties origins despite having lived for many years in the northern town.

"Yes father" Phil replied softly, only slightly mollified by his human father's words. He knew just as well as all Spartans that they'd be considered an illegal relationship by the rest of society and would be imprisoned for indecency or something if they were caught. But his panic subsided when he saw his young partner, Simon, walking down the road, still in uniform, kit bag on his shoulder and he smiled despite himself.

"Hello!" he said, resisting the impulse to hug him. He'd been discharged a couple of months earlier and the separation had been hard, but not nearly so bad as knowing that the love of your life was fighting alongside you and just as likely as you were to take a stray bullet and die on foreign soil. It'd been torture for them both but finally, safely back in Blighty, they were setting up home together. It was only a small flat, the basement in a three-storey tenement building, perfectly suited for two army buddies whose services were no longer required, to rent together. A large kitchen- cum-sitting room and a rather damp, sparsely furnished bedroom was all the space they needed.

They'd met in '44, when they were a pair of thousands herded onto ships to cross the channel ready for the D-day landings. Phil and Simon had been in different units but fate seemed to draw them to the same quiet corner of the crowded vessel at the same moment and that, as one might say, was that. Their first words to each other were spoken by Simon, who leaned in and whispered, "stick close by me, yeah?"

"Okay but why?" Phil managed to make himself reply, turned on and aroused by the breath in his ear. "'Cos I'd prefer it if we either both lived or both died" Simon admitted, smiling apologetically. It was at that point that Phil realised it was his partner bond and that this unknown soldier in front of him was going to feature heavily in the rest of his life. He wanted to exchange a kiss but they settled for a brief interlacing of fingers as they swapped a few woodbine cigarettes.

And so, on a dreary February morning early in `46, with the remains of the previous week's thick, oily smog still lingering on the cold air, a pair of handsome ex-soldiers moved in together. Cliff, Phil's human father, was there to give his older son some moral support and Simon was accompanied by his human father, Jim. Both of the humans had managed to avoid the call up by virtue of partial deafness for one and a deformed foot for the other. Unfortunately their Spartan fathers were both still in the forces, their maturity and fitness awarding them more senior posts, hence more responsibility and the necessity of staying in the army for longer than their sons.

"Jim" Cliff said, offering his hand to the smaller, older of the two men approaching them as they waited on the cold pavement. "Cliff" Jim nodded, limping over and accepting the handshake. "Well, shall we?" Cliff said, fumbling in his coat pocket for a key. He'd moved his son's belongings in the previous day, not permitting him to see the flat until this moment so it was as much a surprise and gift for Phil as it was for Simon.

They trundled down the concrete staircase to the basement door. It had a separate front door which afforded the couple a little more privacy than the shared one of the upstairs flats. They let themselves in and Cliff began, "we've managed to scrounge bed frames and some other furniture but as soon as you can you might want to look into a new mattress for the one bed. There's a week's worth of coal in the bunker back in the yard, yours is the one with `b' marked on the lid and I've bought a bucket in but you'll have to lay the fire. Paper and kindling in the box, you've got electric lights, the meter's here, there's a new gas cooker and a wireless. Oh, by the way, the landlord said something about converting the scullery back there into a bathroom with an indoor toilet so that might happen soon" he smiled, gesturing to the back of the kitchen. "I've put tea and dried milk in the cupboard and we've even got a spot of sugar for you but go sparing with it, okay boys? Spuds and carrots and some veg from the allotment is all under the sink and a bit of mince, some cheese and some flour and a few other staples in the larder and that's you boys set, okay?"

"You didn't need to get us food, dad, you've used your own ration coupons for it haven't you?" Phil asked, smiling gratefully. Cliff just shrugged. "It's the least I could do. Not like I've got a wedding to save up for is it?" he snorted and his face broke into a brief smile.

"You're not going to go hungry this week are you Mr Davis?" Simon asked, concerned.

"Now now, none of this Mr Davis rubbish, you call me Cliff in public and father in private, you hear, son?" Cliff smiled and Simon nodded. "Yes, father" he grinned. "Now are you going to go hungry this week?" he pressed.

"No, course not, I've got loads in" Cliff lied cheerfully, keen to do what he could to help his son and his son's lover out. "Don't worry about me, I'll be fine and Tom's hoping to have some leave at the end of the month or even get discharged if we're lucky so we might get some time together. Oh, and one last thing" he said and fished in his pocket, pulling out a small block of lard wrapped in greaseproof paper.

"What's this for?" Phil said, taking the lard and frowning at it. "Shouldn't it be in the pantry?"

Cliff cleared his throat and blushed a little. "No, son, you've got some in your pantry already, this is for your bedroom" he grinned, then raised his eyebrows and wiggled them suggestively.

"Eh?" Simon asked.

Jim, Simon's dad leaned over to his son and mock-whispered in his thick Yorkshire accent, "ter grease yer oles. Yer can't go stickin' yer Johnnys up each other's arse without a bit o grease."

Simon and Phil both blushed scarlet and Jim and Cliff laughed. "Come on boys, give your dads hugs and then we'll be leaving you to it" Cliff said. Phil and Simon hugged both of the older gents soundly, kissed them on the cheek, then with a final wave goodbye and an adjust of their cloth caps the older pair left and the younger were alone, together in their new flat, in privacy for their first time ever.

"Wow" Phil smiled, looking at Simon. Simon finally dropped his kit bag on the floor and began to undo his jacket buttons.

"Let me" Phil smiled, walking over to his very new lover and life partner. He undid the jacket buttons and helped him out of the woollen coat, then Simon dragged Phil's pullover off and both were dressed similarly, in trousers with black braces and string vests stretched over tight, well developed, muscular chests. "Mmm" Phil murmured appreciatively, gazing at his partner. "Like what you see?" Simon laughed and they hugged and exchanged a kiss. "We need to get ourselves sorted out, it's bloody freezing in here" Phil said presently and smiling, they began to work together to make the flat more homely.

They laid the fire in the grate and Simon tuned the wireless in to a radio show as Phil lit the cooker and got some water boiling for tea. Potatoes, a couple of carrots, a swede, some parsnips and an onion were put into a casserole to cook along with the mince and a pinch of salt and whilst their dinner stewed they put their meagre belongings away and tidied the flat up to their liking. Later, they ate their fill of the stew, left some for the following day and then sat together on the sofa, listening to the wireless as they cuddled in front of the fire by the light of an electric lamp.

"This is nice" Simon whispered after a while. "It is rather" Phil replied, snuggling deeper into his partner's strong arms. Simon started kissing Phil's ear and neck and Phil turned his face and they smooched some more. "Me' dad Jim's the crassest, dirtiest old sod ever, in't he?" Simon mumbled shortly, laughing gently to himself.

Phil chuckled softly. "I don't know, though, sounds interesting" he replied. "But I must admit, using lard like that never occurred to me."

"You wanna go `av a go?" Simon asked shortly. There was a distinct tremble in his voice as he invited his partner, but as yet not lover, to consummate their relationship. Phil could feel the tremble as he lay against Simon's strong chest. "You don't have to, Si" he whispered, "we can wait if you're scared."

"If D-day din't scare me this won't" Simon replied somewhat haughtily.

"I can feel you shaking" Phil whispered gently. He sat up, turned around and knelt over Simon's knees so that they were facing, chest to chest, face to face, lips to lips. They kissed passionately and Phil could feel Simon's organ rising at the same rate as his own, both straining against the woollen trousers they wore. "Relax, don't be afraid to tell me you're nervous, this'll be new for both of us, remember?" Phil whispered.

"I just can't help feeling that someone's going to come bargin' in on us and we'll be arrested an' carted off ta' clink" Simon whispered.

"The door's locked and we'll be quiet. And the wireless is on so that'll drown us out anyway. And there's still blackout drapes up at the windows since we've not got proper curtains yet, so no one'll see us. We'll be fine, promise" Phil assured his lover as they kissed some more.

"I'll need ter go an' find work tomorrow" Simon said.

"Si" Phil sighed softly, "stop worrying, my job's secure on the buses and you can go ask around some of the building sites about labouring jobs, nothing to it. Now stop worrying and relax" he smiled.

"You sure we're safe?" Simon asked again.

"Shut up and kiss me" Phil replied, leaning in for another smooch. He could feel Simon smiling as their lips met and tongues battled for the first time.

They kissed for a while, whilst rubbing rough, callused hands over strong muscular chests and shoulders. It was Simon, surprisingly, who first ventured to Phil's trouser waistband and unbuttoned the fly to let his thick meaty organ bounce out from its confines. "Oh!" Phil gasped softly as his cock met the cool air, the moisture at the tip making the air feel colder as it evaporated.

He clambered off the settee and in a mad flurry he pulled his braces off and kicked his trousers out of the way, watching as Simon scrambled to do the same thing. Trousers and underwear discarded, both men pulled at the other's vests as they kissed passionately, a hint of desperation, violence almost, hidden under their lustful smooching. "By eck, I've waited a long time fer this" Simon mumbled around Phil's tongue.

"You're telling me" Phil replied with a chuckle as they each clasped the other's hot, hard organ in a gentle grip. "Oh my, oh, oh" Simon started to gasp softly as Phil began to stroke. In his lust-fuelled haze he initially didn't think to reciprocate but Phil cradled Simon's caressing hand in his free one and began to move it on his own cock. Simon soon got the message and began to stroke in the same rhythm as Phil maintained.

Their first orgasms came within moments of each other, only a minute or so after they'd began fondling each other, the urgency of need taking precedence over any more romantic notions. But now partially sated, yet both still hard, they began to take things just a little easier, a little slower. Still in their kitchen/living room, in front of the warm fire and with the wireless playing, they first kissed and sucked, then gently worked their fingers backwards, inwards, softly probing each other's secret entrances. Phil broke first. "Come on, Si, I need it, enter me" he begged, gasped almost.

"You sure? It'll `urt, you know it will" Simon asked, managing, with some difficulty, to restrain himself from jumping in, only the knowledge that he'd potentially hurt his life partner enabling him to hold back. "Do it Si" Phil said, grabbing at the block of grease that they'd left on the table. Si took the offer and after some preparation, which took far too long in Phil's opinion, slowly began easing himself inside his lover.

"Oh bloody hell that hurts" Phil gasped as the invader slowly entered. "Surely yer dads warned yer it'd `urt?" Simon managed to make himself gasp, amazed at the tight, hot, velvety grip of his lover's anus. Phil just groaned, half in pain, half in ecstasy, unable to get coherent words out.

"Should I go on?" Simon whispered into Phil's ear. "Yessssssss" Phil hissed as his eyes rolled into his head and an expression showing a peculiar mix of torture and bliss passed over his face. Simon laughed gently and began the dance.

By the end of the night Phil had reciprocated and as the fire had died back to mere embers they had adjourned to the cold bedroom, ignoring the more beaten looking of the two single beds and sharing the better one between them, lying in a tight embrace, burrowed under the heavy woollen blankets to keep the chill off. Simon awoke next morning to find Phil lying at his back, spooning against him, his heavy, muscular arms embracing him, his lover's eleven thick inches of morning erection poking the small of his back.

In a moment of pure mischief Simon began to press back on the meaty organ and grind it between his own buttocks and Phil's stomach. Phil began moaning in his sleep but after only a few seconds the moaning ceased and Phil woke up. "Someone woke up horny this morning" he whispered as he kissed and licked Si's ear. "Yeah, like you never would believe" Si just about managed to whisper back. "I'm still greasy back there, I'm sure I am, stick it in, Phil, please" he begged.

It didn't take much begging and only a bit of manoeuvring to make that most intimate of connections. Si sighed with pleasure as he felt himself fill up and Phil began to thrust, only gently, slowly, still a little sleepy despite being turned on by Si's clear sexual need, in direct contrast to his nervousness the previous night. "I could do this all day" Phil admitted after a while, a smile in his voice. "Oh, yeah" Si responded, grinding his hips gently.

It didn't quite take them all day, or even all morning but by the time both were sated it was closer to lunch time than breakfast. They dressed, went to use the loo in the backyard and then washed in a basin of hot water that they'd boiled on the cooker before placing on the dresser in the bedroom. "I hope they get a bathroom done, that'd be a right treat" Phil said as he dried himself and pulled his vest back on. "Mmm and m'be we cud even share a bath?" Si replied, wiggling his eyebrows lecherously as he took the wash cloth and soap and began to wash himself. Phil laughed and leaned in for another kiss before adjourning to the kitchen to put the kettle on to boil, this time for tea.

They spent the rest of the day sorting their flat out and even went to the local market to pick up some curtains to replace the blackout drapes, using a few shillings of Phil's previous week's wages and Simon's army pension. Luckily Phil had already arranged to take the day off work so his employer hadn't been expecting him. The following day Phil went back to his driving job and true to his prediction, Simon easily picked up some labouring work, clearing old bomb sites ready for rebuilding. They each had two days off a week and worked twelve hour days the rest of the time, spending a few glorious hours in the privacy of their flat in each other's company, making love most evenings.

They settled into a comfortable, yet nervous, life together as the city and the country slowly rebuilt itself in the aftermath of the war. Both were happy, if wary, in their lives and their extended families were all whole, especially since within a few months of them setting up home together both of their Spartan fathers, Simon's father, Paul and Phil's father Tom, were discharged from the army and came home. There had been a party of sorts in a local pub once they all were together, a place with sawdust on the floor and warm, watery bitter in non-too-clean pint pots but it was fairly discrete and not known for gossip and thus was an excellent place for a group of rather distinctively-handsome gentlemen to gather without drawing unwanted attention.

It was eighteen months after they moved in together that they first became emergent. Though they had enough money saved to make the necessary cut-and- run so that employers and neighbours didn't notice their emergent state, they didn't have enough savings to afford to have a child. The home they moved to, after a painful ten days hiding with Phil's Spartan father, Thomas Carlson, was another flat at the opposite side of the city. Both dressed in their carefully saved army uniforms and made a simple story of army discharge to explain why they moved in together.

They both found work again and continued to save money to purchase a house and prepare for their next emergence, when they were certain they'd gestate a child. Simon had managed in the meantime to get a well paid position with the local council so he would continue to work, after a short period of what they would call "influenza", backed up by an apparent doctor's letter provided by the London legal firm that quietly took care of such things for Spartans.

1950

By the summer of 1950 their life together was happy and comfortable. They'd made some very visible alterations to the house that they now owned so that it appeared to be two separate flats for two bachelors who led apparently separate lives. And much to Simon's delight both flats had proper bathrooms and more than once the pair shared the tub and found that soap worked just as well, or better, than cooking grease.

But they didn't always have to hide away their relationship behind closed doors, especially not when in one of the few secret sanctuaries that their kind had. The sanctuary in question was in the sub-basement of a bombed-out pre-Victorian factory whose entrance had been quietly incorporated into a brand-new office block that would, in time, house an above-ground facility. It was an unusual and unnerving place, made all the more surprising by what took place there -- it was the location of a secret temple that existed in homage to a deity that the rest of the world believed to be mythical -- Apollo. Phil and Simon had been there before, not frequently but a few times and this time they were invited not to the temple itself but to a new function room in the upper offices, in order to celebrate a special occasion for Simon's father.

"So what's this party for? Did your dad Jim say?" Phil asked on the cold, pre-dawn morning as he and Simon drank an early cup of tea as they prepared to take the train to London.

"He just said we'd find out when we get there" Simon smiled. "He and dad Paul have been dead secretive lately. But it'll give us a chance to check out the new temple building, it's supposed to be really smart" he said. "And it'll give us a chance to catch up with William and quiz him about the guy he's with, he reckons this Andrew bloke is his partner."

"Has he revealed the Spartan race to him yet?" Phil wondered, knowing that though his brother in law, Will, was keen, his dad Paul had advised him to wait until he was absolutely certain the young human man he dated was his partner.

"I dunno" Simon replied. "In his last letter Will said he'd been thinking how to bring the subject up. Perhaps this Andrew fella will come with `im?"

"Now that'd be a culture shock if ever there was one" Phil laughed. He checked the clock on the mantel piece. "Come on, we need to get a shift on if we're going to get to the train station on time" he said, collecting jacket, cap and bag, waiting for Simon to do the same, then stepping out into the early morning fog.

A long, mostly boring journey later, Phil and Si got off a tube train and exited the underground station in the vicinity of the building they were heading towards. They got to the building, for all intents and purposes a brand-new office block and made their way, as per their instructions, to a back door off an alley piled with refuse. Si knocked and was admitted by a Spartan neither knew.

"Are you here for Paul Sethson?" he asked and Si nodded. "Come this way" he said in a softly spoken voice and led the pair through a winding corridor, to a set of concrete stairs that were clearly the back-way in and up to a freshly painted function room.

A few family members were already there and the rest were due within the hour. Simon and Phil were greeted by Paul and Jim. "So, what's this all about, dad Paul?" Simon asked, shaking his dad's hand and leaning in for a familial kiss. "And why on earth have you got that daft red robe on? You look ridiculous."

"The answer to both questions is the same thing and I'll tell you in a bit" Phil smiled.

Presently everyone was there - including William, Simon's brother, Paul's brother and his family and a few other friends and relatives. Some of Phil's relatives were there too, since he was Spartan and his family were privy to the temple's secrets. None of Jim's family were there since they were all human and as such were ignorant of the species that shared their towns and cities and were so much a part of their relative's life.

"Hello, everyone, thank you for coming" Paul called the gathering to order. People turned and listened as they sipped beer or nibbled some of the roast beef sandwiches that were on offer.

"You going to tell us why you're in that red dressing gown now?" Simon asked with a chuckle.

"Less of the cheek, son" Paul said gently, in a way that was far more of a rebuke than an angry voice would have been. "You need to show a little respect for the customs of the temple." He met Simon's eyes with a steady gaze. "Sorry, dad Paul" Simon said after an age.

"As I was saying, thank you all for coming and sharing this celebration. I know that the letters and in some cases telephone calls were mostly unexpected when you got them last week but it's nice to see so many drop their previous commitments to share this day with me. You see, this time last week, at the rise of the full moon, I was ordained a priest of Apollo and the meal we eat is in celebration of that."

"Dad? Priest?" William, Simon's younger brother, gasped. "Yep" Paul smiled.

"I always knew you were devout, you would spend ages in the cellar practising with a sword and praying when we were kids but I never thought you'd be ordained, dad" Simon commented, going and giving his dad a hug, "I'm pleased for you" he smiled.

"So why the red robe?" Phil asked the burning question. "It's symbolic of the blood I spilled in order to gain the status Apollo has bestowed on me" Paul replied.

"You mean you sacrificed an animal?" Phil asked and Paul nodded. "Both my sons and I have attended sacrifices in the past, have you never been to a worship service?"

"I've been to presentations but nothing else" Phil admitted and Paul nodded. "As do most Spartans but I am not most" he smiled softly at his son in law.

"How do you feel, dad Jim?" Simon asked.

Jim looked at Paul who nodded almost imperceptibly. "I'm proper proud" he grinned, "and I got ter' see in yer temple, I wos impressed and if Apollo'd let me, I'd worship im' too" the old Yorkshire man explained.

"And to that end I want to make a second announcement, Jim and I are going to start a campaign to get permission for the human partners of Spartans to come into the temple" Paul said. "There's parts of an ordination that the new priest's life partner has to be there for so Jim's already seen inside. It just doesn't seem fair that he could help me with that but wasn't able to see you two being presented" he explained.

"So with that let me propose a toast to my lover and partner, Priest Paul Sethson" Jim shouted and everyone drank to the new priest. "And now, let's eat" Paul smiled and as beer, whisky, sandwiches and cigars all flowed the group celebrated with the new priest.

Phil and Simon had a lot of conversations including one with William, who they quizzed about Andrew. "Hey brother" Simon smiled, giving the younger man a hug.

"Si" William returned.

"How's life?" he asked. William smiled goofily. "Life is good" he said.

"And you managed to get your end away with Andrew yet or still bidin' your time?" Simon laughed.

"We've snuck a few kisses, by `eck he's a good kisser" William sighed with a far- away look on his face.

"So he's your life partner for sure then?" Phil asked and Will nodded. "For sure, I've never felt like anyone like I feel now" he said. "I'm goin' to tell him real soon and we'll sort out how we're goin' to set up house together."

"I'm pleased for you bro, really I am" Simon smiled. "And maybe sons on the way soon too?"

"Absolutely bro" William smiled, rubbing his stomach anxiously, "absolutely."

The party finished quite late and the gathering scattered to hostels and guest houses around the city before departing for their homes on the train the next morning. It was three weeks later when Simon and Phil got a letter from William.

Simon had been to collect the post and also the milk from the doorstep so that he could make some tea and porridge. "Hey, this one's from William!" he smiled to Phil.

"Read it out" Phil asked and Simon did so. It was quite short and sweet and was clearly written by a man in love.

"Dear Simon" it began, "I did it! I took Andrew out for a walk in the park and when we were quite alone I told him about Spartans and amazons too and said that I was Spartan and asked him if he'd father my children for me. He almost collapsed in shock but I held him up and promised him I was telling the truth and told him I loved him more than my own life. He admitted he loved me too and as soon as he's worked his notice we're moving away and going to live together up in Kendal in Cumbria, we've already been up there on the train and seen a nice house we can split. I'm in love and Andrew's brilliant and we're so happy! You'll have to come and visit once we've set up house together. I'm looking forward to introducing you to Andrew, your loving brother, Will."

"I'm glad he's happy" Phil smiled. "Now all we need to do is to find my brother David a partner."

Simon laughed. "He's young yet, give him time" he said and they finished their breakfast and went about their day.

1953

It was three years after Paul's ordination when Phil and Si's filaments reappeared one autumn morning. The pre-prepared cover story of influenza easily permitted Simon to take the required time off work. Phil's letter to his employer stated his desire to head back to London to be with his family and a very visible walk to the train station, with painful filaments rubbing against his shirt, the loosest he could get away with, backed up the story. No one in the town knew that his father, Tom, picked him up in his new motor car from the very next station and drove him home again under the cover of darkness.

Laid down together on the new, comfortable bed that was to be Phil's world for the next nine months, they smiled and kissed each other gently, careful of the stretched circles of filaments they both sported. "You ready for this?" Simon asked after an age. Phil chuckled. "No" he smiled, "but do it anyway."

Simon carefully masturbated himself and presently came all over the feathery circle of filaments that Phil sported. After an hour of agonising pains Phil finally managed to relax and breathe properly again. "I love you" were the first words he said once he managed to speak.

"I love you too" Simon said, kissing him.

As gestating made it very obvious to all that the man with the womb wasn't human, it was standard practise to hide away for the full duration. This didn't only mean not going outside but also not going too near to any windows in case they were spotted. For this reason Phil's bed was in the converted cellar, which had been cleaned up and had a few rugs and pieces of furniture added and made into a passable bedroom. Phil would only be allowed upstairs under the cover of darkness and would otherwise have to hide so as to convince all the neighbours he was no longer there.

But this posed problems in itself -- firstly, Simon would have to work and so would be unable to provide all the care his gestating partner required, and secondly, how would he explain to observers the quantity of food he purchased, which was far more than a single man would need. Thankfully the family had an answer and only three weeks after conception a group of visitors arrived at the house.

"Hi, dad Tom, dad Cliff" Phil smiled to his family. "Brother" he said to David, then finally turned to the oldest man in the quartet of visitors. "Granddad Carl" he said softly.

"Yeah, a great-granddad at last" Carl laughed.

"So what's this great plan of yours, then?" Simon asked. It was Tom and Cliff who'd assured their son in law that they had things under control.

"Well, it's quite simple, since your most recent lodger has moved away" Tom grinned, pointing at Phil, "Carl's going to take the empty flat." The old man nodded.

"And the story?"

"Widower whose daughters both went to Canada. I'm left here to fend for myself" Carl said nonchalantly. "I've got a pension thanks to the welfare state and the railways didn't leave me badly off either so I won't be a financial burden and I'll help out as much as I can" he said. He'd been a steam engine train driver and now past eighty qualified for a state pension too, even though his official papers registered him as being ten years younger than his actual age -- a common practise for elderly Spartans so that their longevity didn't become too suspicious.

"Granddad" Phil said softly and Carl looked at him. "Don't take it for granted, please? You're not a great granddad yet, I've got eight months to endure" he reminded the older man.

"I know, Phil, lad, I know" Carl said soberly, "but I'll do all I can to help you through it, okay?"

"Okay" Phil said, then winced as he shifted his weight and pain shot through him as the newly grown filaments stretched against his skin.

"Is it really that sore, Phil?" David asked his older brother. Phil looked at his younger sibling with amusement at his apprehension, which came over loud and clear even though he spoke with what was commonly known as BBC English, befitting his post as a secretary on Whitehall.

"Like you'd never believe" Phil told the youngest man in the room.

"When you taking to bed?" Cliff asked. Phil frowned. "I'm not sure dad Cliff, not immediately as I'm hoping to at least be able to use the potty for a while yet" he chuckled, nodding towards the offending bucket lurking in the corner of the former- cellar turned bedroom. "And help out with household chores and stuff wherever possible, plus it's nice to go to the back door at night and get some fresh air. You know, I miss the sun the most."

Tom laughed. "At least you've got a nice, large room. Cliff and I were in a two up, two down and I was stuck in a glorified broom cupboard when I had you! We learned and I got the attic converted ready for David's gestation" he smiled at his younger son.

The gestation continued on normal lines and in nine months Phil was delivered of a beautiful boy whom they named James after one of his grandfathers, James' of course being Jim's true name. Under the cover of darkness Phil and the baby were moved from the house and taken to a new home by the now proud grandfathers, Tom and Cliff. Simon stayed in the flat with Carl for a few days before leaving Carl to live in the flat himself and moving away.

He went to the train station and once there slipped into a toilet stall just before the train was due to leave and changed from his suit into his army uniform, before taking the train to join his lover and child.

"Hey, where's these lodgings?" Simon asked the shop keeper, having picked the small card from the door. He knew exactly where they were, of course, as well as where to find the card, having been thoroughly briefed by Tom and Cliff.

"Just down the street, number thirty seven" the man said. "Tragic business, single man with a babe, his wife died in childbirth, tragic" he muttered.

Simon picked up his kit bag and adjusted his old uniform jacket, glad that they'd kept it and pleased that it had become useful yet again. Idly wondering how long they could continue to use the just-discharged-soldier disguise, he went to the house, where he knew his lover and baby son were waiting and had been for the past week and eagerly knocked on the door.

"Hi, I picked up your card in the corner shop, I believe you're looking for a lodger?" he said to Phil, fairly loudly so that the neighbours could hear. Phil's joy at being reunited with Simon, even only having had a week apart, was palpable but he restrained the impulse to hug him and said, "yeah, there's a room available, 15 shillings a week plus half the cost of grocery and utility bills" Phil tried to say nonchalantly.

"Can I come in and see it?" Simon asked and Phil beckoned him in and closed the front door. As soon as they were in private they hugged fiercely and exchanged a deep, long kiss. "We've missed you" Phil whispered.

"This last week's been torture" Simon replied, "the number of times I wanted to come down earlier than we'd planned but I knew I couldn't, we had to get our story straight" he admitted.

"So you want to see the room I've got for rent?" Phil asked, amusement twinkling in his eyes.

"Shut up and kiss me" Simon replied with a smile.

Phil leaned in for a kiss only to be interrupted by the crying of a small baby. "Sounds like someone else missed you too" Phil whispered softly as he went to pick the small child out of his cradle. "Say hello to daddy Simon, James" he whispered. James just gurgled and as he was taken into his siring father's arms he fell fast asleep.

1956

Life continued, as it does and baby James grew into a mischievous and excitable toddler. It wasn't long after the boy's second birthday that the family received a letter that they never would have wanted ever to get.

"What is it hon?" Phil asked over breakfast as Simon opened the mail, went white and collapsed into his chair.

"It's Will" he said. "He's miscarried" Simon gasped.

"Oh, Simon" Phil said, cradling his partner, tears threatening to fall. "Will there be a funeral?" he asked.

Simon scanned the letter. "Dad Paul said he doesn't know" he said, it was Paul who'd written the letter. "He said it'll be an undercover one since the baby is covered in filaments and can't be shown to anyone. Maybe they'll just bury him and we'll go and visit the graveside" Simon managed to say after getting his emotions under control.

Phil cuddled his lover and sighed, his tears trickling down his cheeks. "Never mind, Simon, he'll have another egg and another go, at least. The next one'll be fine, I'm sure" he said softly.

1961

It was three in the morning when the newly installed telephone rang in Simon and Phil's house.

"Yes?" Simon said sleepily when he finally got to the hallway and picked the receiver up.

"Son, it's your dad Jim" came a voice, obviously breaking with pain and gruff with unshed tears.

"Dad, what's happened?" Simon gasped, still sleepy but grasping straight away that something was terribly wrong.

"It's your brother" Jim said, "he miscarried again yesterday and" Jim's voice broke and his sobbed, "Si, he killed himself" the old man finally managed to make himself say.

"We'll be there on the first train" Simon said tersely, hanging up, going back to bed and sobbing into an almost-equally heartbroken Phil's shoulder until daybreak.

They must have slept for a couple of hours for both Phil and Simon awoke in some discomfort. "Ow, urgh" Simon groaned as he woke.

Phil nudged him awake. "Honey, we're emergent again" he said softly. Simon's face split into a smile until he remembered why they were up so early, where they were going on the train that very morning.

"Oh damn, damn, damn, no!" he groaned, both from the pain of his tiny bunch of filaments growing from his belly button and from the memory of his brother's actions and his father's phone call.

"Not today, please not today" he begged but the truth was obvious -- he'd become emergent and ready to carry his own child just as the news of his brother's and unborn nephew's deaths had reached him. "Talk about fucking bad timing" he swore vehemently.

"One step at a time, hon" Phil counselled. "Let's get James up and dressed and find loose shirts and we'll get on the train. Your dads need you Si" he said softly.

A few hours later and a mid-morning walk from where they'd gotten off the train saw them at the front door of the house that William and Andrew had shared. Jim opened it when they knocked and ushered them in quietly. They saw Andrew sat motionless on the floor and noticed Paul through the kitchen doorway

"Oh dad!" Simon gasped, crying. Paul looked up from the kitchen table. "Son" he said softly, "he left you a letter" With shaking hands Simon took the offered paper.

"Dearest Brother, I'm sorry for the pain this will cause you but I couldn't continue. You know both my babies were big enough for me to cuddle? I held them and kissed them and promised that daddy would see them soon. I pray Apollo permits me to talk with them, to see them playing and running around and laughing happily, just once. For them my life has to end. Enjoy the time with your son, or maybe sons -- never take Apollo's miracle of parenthood for granted. Bury me and my boys together if you can. Will"

Simon finished reading the letter out and gently knelt down on the floor, crying softly to himself. "What'll happen to Andrew?" Phil asked Jim, the pair stood slightly out of earshot of the man in question, who was cuddling his seven-year-old nephew. James was being surprisingly cooperative -- normally he avoided hugs.

"He's moving in with Paul and me" he said in a gruff voice that barely hid his emotions. "For the moment, anyway. If he wants to follow Will, though, we won't stop him, that'd just be cruel. But while he lets us we're going to make sure he eats well, has clean clothes, that sort of thing."

"And his funeral?"

"Well it'll be away from here, the lawyers are sorting it all out now. They're even exhuming his first son, the three of them will be buried together. But it'll be a Christian funeral, Simon, I just don't think I can cope with that, it's just not fair" Paul sobbed. Simon hugged his birth father, silently agreeing but saying nothing -- words were unnecessary.

In the end, neither Phil nor Si could attend the funeral as they were both too obviously emergent. "It is the will of Apollo. Life comes and life goes, the cycle continues" Paul said with a smile peeking through his veil of sadness. "Just be careful, won't you?" he asked. Simon was careful and nine months later baby Thomas Simonson was born. It was only then that he finally could visit the graveside of his brother and nephews.

It was a simple plot in a cemetery in Sheffield, just giving the names of each person buried there, along with the inscription, "in the arms of the Lord." Simon knew that the Lord the stone spoke of wasn't the Christian god of his brother's funeral but Lord Apollo. "Care for them, Lord, please?" he prayed softly as he put three white roses on the grave. "Care for them." He turned, wiped his tears away and pushed baby Thomas' buggy back down the path towards Phil, James and their new car. Life would go on.

Race is more than a skin colour

This chapter of the Spartan story starts during the imprisonments when James is in his late thirties. It begins in Strangeways prison, going to the island and finishes with the restoration of the temple and of Apolline worship.

Main characters: James Phillipson's brother, Carl, who is 17 years James' junior (Spartan) Carl's partner, Winston, Jamaican by birth, met Carl when he was 19 and Carl was 17 (human) Their sons: Simon jnr, born when Carl was 18 Hugh, 3 years younger than Simon, the same age as James' and Mike's son, Gabriel

Death

"You swear you're Spartan?" the officer asked me for what felt like the millionth time.

"Yeah, I swear" I lied.

"Why d'you look and sound like you're from the West Indies then?" he pressed with a suspicious frown. "'Cos one of my dads was Jamaican and I grew up in Moss Side" I said. This wasn't a lie -- my dad, my only dad, was from Kingston and my mum, bless her, still lived on Claremont Road.

"You know if you're human you can get out" he said, softer now. I think he knew, to be honest but simply couldn't understand why I continued to lie.

"I know but I'm not" I lied again. He shrugged and nodded to one of the other officers, who took me out of the private interview room and escorted me back to the wing where Carl and our children waited nervously.

Carl was loitering right near the gate, with baby Hugh in his arms suckling noisily. The prison officer noticed my love feeding our youngest son and a faint expression of distaste passed over his face as he unlocked the door to let me back into the wing that had become our home. As the gate was locked, Simon, who'd been playing a game with his cousin David that seemed to have involved lots of running around and giggling, saw me. "Daddy Winston, you're back" he yelled, running over to me. He slammed into my leg and hugged me tightly.

"Yeah, I'm back" I assured him, hugging him back even as Carl leaned into me and I gave him a deep kiss, holding him around the waist with my free hand.

"Was it the same as before?" he asked. I nodded. "They seem convinced that I'm human for some reason" I said. "I mean, if I was I'd tell them" I lied, knowing they were listening, "but I'm not, I'm Spartan and if I go out there I'll end up dead. No thank you."

Carl kissed me again, first on my mouth, then my cheek, then my ear, then he whispered, "every time they do this I'm terrified I'll never see you again". I kissed him in a similar manner and whispered back, "yeah, me too. I'm glad we managed to smuggle that letter out to my mam to beg her to disown me if she was approached" I said, feeling my emotions rise. Carl just nodded and kissed me again before Simon interrupted us.

"Ewww, daddies! Stop kissing, it's all sloppy" he giggled before trying to run away. I chased him and tickled him until he couldn't breathe properly for laughing. "Me and your daddy Carl like to kiss, Simon" I said gently once I'd let him up to get his breath. "Be nice, it's the way we show we love each other" I explained in a soft voice. He nodded and ran off towards where his granddad Phil was telling a group of children a story. I listened to the start of a masculinised version of an otherwise familiar fairy story as Phil began to speak.

"Once upon a time there was a little boy called Goldy. Goldy was a naughty, nosy little boy and one day he came upon a cottage in the woods. His daddies had both told him not to go wandering but naughty Goldy wanted to see what was in the cottage so he crept inside and found a table with three bowls of porridge on it. He was hungry so he tasted the first, biggest bowl and it was too salty. Then he tasted the second bowl and it was too sweet. Then he tasted the smallest bowl and it was just right and he ate it all up."

I moved away from the gathering of children and joined Carl on the sofa. Hugh had finished feeding, though he was being weaned and didn't need that much milk anymore. I think it was more a comfort thing, for Carl as well as the baby. I took him into my arms, kissing him on his forehead and noticing that he, like his brother, was also going to have tight afro curls just like mine. I rubbed his head gently, smoothing the tiny, just-growing ringlets with my hand. "My boy, my beautiful boy" I whispered gently. I felt a stir of helpless rage within me as I realised how vulnerable we still were, even with the success of the lawsuit and I prayed with every fibre of my being that we'd get to leave the prison and go to this supposed safe community the government were organising.

"Lord Jesus Christ, hear me in my hour of need" I whispered under my breath as I cradled my son. "I beg you, Lord, give me the strength to protect my sons and keep my family safe, Lord I pray" I finished, my voice breaking. Carl, though he'd never actually prayed to God, heard my whispered prayer and hugged me, showing me that I had his support even though he didn't share my Christianity. "Hey, hon, don't worry" he said gently. "Between them, I'm sure Jesus and Apollo will keep us safe" he smiled. My love for him helped me ignore the blasphemy as I knew that the closest he could come to the true faith was by believing in his pagan god, Apollo, and my Lord, Jesus Christ, side by side. "I'm sure too" I replied, "but you'll forgive me if I continue to pray" I smiled.

"Would it help if I said the Lord's prayer with you?" he asked me in a quiet but serious voice. He'd done this more than once and much as I knew he couldn't be genuine in his words it meant a lot that he'd say it with me and I nodded, wordlessly. Still cradling little Hugh, who was sleepy now that he had been fed, I took Carl's offered hand in my free one and we recited together, "Our father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name."

As we finished praying we heard Phil growling and the children running away, squealing with laughter as the older man finished his story, "and the three bears chased Goldy right out of the forest and away and he never disobeyed his daddies again."

It was only a week later that we finally had some notice that we were to be moved from the prison. We didn't have much information about where we were going and some were scared but I was glad. Anything was better for my sons than growing up without ever seeing the sky and the sun and the beauty of creation. Even if, as some of the more sceptical Spartans claimed, they were taking us to our deaths, I was glad in a way that my children would at least see the outdoors once more.

Carl was scared as we boarded the buses but he managed to hide it from his family and our children. I could tell, though, that he'd been swayed by the detractors, the ones who were being dragged, screaming and handcuffed, to an armoured truck. I turned so Simon couldn't see the men's fear and tried to talk in a jolly voice about the adventure we were embarking on. A tiny part of my mind made me remember the tale of the Jewish man trying to hide from his son the horrors they were heading towards as they were herded onto a train in Nazi Germany and even as I grinned and joked with my little boy I prayed that we would be treated with compassion at least.

The journey took forever and since not even the most stressed person can stay in an adrenalin-fuelled stated for very long, I managed to relax a little. It was the end of a very long day and the sun was setting behind the hills as we pulled up at a small concrete jetty, looking across a stretch of water to an idyllic looking island. I knew that the officials were talking to my brother in law, Mike but my mind turned more towards prayer as it dawned on me that we were near the end of our journey, in one way at least.

I tried to psych myself up for whatever was to come but then noticed that we were being directed onto the ferry boat with our luggage and the guards were just smiling and waving us off. "What's happening?" I managed to make myself ask Mike.

"We're being housed over on the island, there" he explained. "Our room and house allocations are on a notice board, we just need to get over there and find where we're staying. Supplies will be delivered regularly and the first lot are already there and there'll be a security boat on the water but basically we've been given the island to make our own" he smiled. He looked at me with surprisingly wise eyes, a piercing gaze that tore through my defences. "You didn't believe we'd be freed, did you?" he said.

"No, I" I began, then felt a tear trail down my face. "Sh" Mike said, "wipe it away, don't let the children see" he whispered softly. "Come on, let's go find our new home, eh?"

Life

The island was beautiful. I'd never really thought of the UK being so green, having so much wide open space but then growing up in the inner city, you don't get to experience it too often. We had some nice rooms, one for Carl and I to share and one for Simon and Hugh and their cousin, Matthew. Simon was a bit put out, sharing with two toddlers but I don't think he minded too much since it was more space than we had in prison. We had plenty of food and plenty of space and even, to my surprise, a number of bibles and books about Christianity.

It turned out that a number of the buildings on the island had been owned by a Christian organisation of some sort, an organisation I'd never personally heard of but whose members had left lots of their books in their properties. I appreciated the books and in between caring for the children and helping Mike and the others with some legal work I spent a few hours each week reading the theology books and enjoying studying my faith once more -- for obvious reasons I'd felt the need to hide my Christianity whilst in prison, since many Spartans weren't Christian. I didn't want the authorities to use it as a lever -- or perhaps an excuse -- to prise me away from my family.

One afternoon I'd been to collect some groceries from the delivery boat and I heard a commotion from the beach. I could see Simon stood there with some other boys his age -- his ethnicity made him quite distinctive in the crowd, as did his piercing voice and slight Jamaican twang that he'd picked up from me.

"Shut yer mouf!" I heard him shout. A mumbled response from the surrounding boys made Simon shout again, "am too Spartan, I wos grown by daddy Carl and everyfink" he said. I put the groceries down on the tarmac road, keeping the box out of the puddles left by a recent rainstorm and walked slowly over to the crowd of children.

As I got closer I heard one of the other boys say, "but Simon, you can't be Spartan, Spartans are white and you're black." He was one of the older children in the group and he sounded quite apologetic.

"But I am, really I am" I heard my oldest son cry out and I knew he was on the verge of tears.

"Hey, boys, what's hap'nin?" I called once I was close enough. The children all looked up at me guiltily, except for Simon who grinned and ran over.

"Daddy Winston!" he shouted and I could hear the relief in his voice. "Tell them I'm Spartan, they don't believe me" he pleaded. I looked at the group of children. Apart from a handful they were mostly unfamiliar to me and must have been incarcerated at a gaol other than Strangeways.

"How many of you have one human and one Spartan dad?" I asked. A few put their hands up sheepishly. "And how many of you have a human granddad or a human uncle?" As I'd guessed they would, the rest put their hands up.

"And are you Spartan?" I continued and they all nodded, some shouting, "yes" and others "of course."

"Even those of you who have human dads, who have grandmothers? Are you Spartan?"

"Yes" they replied.

"Then Simon is just as much Spartan as you are" I finished. The older boy looked at me, puzzlement obvious on his handsome face. "Yes?" I asked him. "But why's he black?" he said softly.

"Spartans sometimes inherit certain characteristics from their human fathers, like eye colour, hair colour, skin colour, for instance. You've got a human dad, haven't you?" I asked, remembering that he'd put his hand up before. He nodded. "What colour hair and eyes has he got?" I asked.

"Blonde hair and blue eyes" he said softly. "So, the same as you then?" I pressed and he nodded. "And your Spartan dad, what about him?"

"Black hair and blue eyes" he said in a tiny voice.

"So you inherited your blonde hair from humans then?" I said, continuing, "and yet you ask why Simon is black. He inherited his skin colour and hair from humans. It doesn't make him any less Spartan than you are with your blonde hair."

"Sorry" he whispered to me. "It isn't me that you need to apologise to" I said. The boy looked at Simon. "Sorry Simon" he said gently.

"It's okay" Simon said happily, "As long as you know I'm not lyin, it's good. Shall we play chase?"

"Yeah!" came the cheers and the boys scattered and ran off. Shaking my head in amusement, I went and collected the groceries and walked back to our lodgings. Carl was there and it appeared he'd just had a mass nappy-changing session -- he was caring for our own son, Hugh and for his nephews, Hugh's cousins, Matthew and Gabriel -- all three boys were virtually the same age.

"Why the blazes do they feel the need to poo in unison?" he grouched cheerfully. "It was stink city in here a few minutes ago" he told me as I walked through the door. The boys were toddling around the room, bare bottomed, each giggling as they ran about on their chubby, baby legs.

Carl put the cloth nappies in a plastic bin for washing later on and then took three clean ones from the shelf in our bedroom to change the boys into. I helped, catching and dressing Matthew as Carl pinned and dressed Gabriel, then I managed to grab hold of and dress Hugh. "So how come you're on babysitting duty?" I asked as we let the boys run off again.

"Mike's working as usual" Carl began, "he never quits, that guy, how the hell he keeps going is beyond me. Erm, Clive and Tom have taken George and Greg and some of the older boys out hillwalking to try and burn some of their energy and James is talking with Alex and Daniel."

I sighed. Alex and Daniel's unborn baby had been murdered in prison and James had become a therapist almost for his brother and brother-in-law, whenever things got too much, whenever they got too anxious or upset. Carl noticed my expression. "It was a bad night for nightmares, apparently" he said softly.

"We all lost a nephew that day" I said gently, feeling the family's pain thanks to the bond of love that kept me at Carl's side. "They'll move on one day, I promise" I said.

"I know hon" Carl replied in a tired voice. "It's just hard, you know?" I nodded, pulling him into a hug that he gratefully accepted. After a few minutes Carl said, "I think Mike asked if you could join the legal people down at the pub, if you've got the time" he asked me. I chuckled. "I'm goin', I'm goin', keep my nose to the grindstone why don't ya?" He laughed too and I hugged him, then caught hold of and kissed my son and my nephews gently before heading down to the village once more.

As the weeks progressed my life fell into a comfortable routine. I'd read for a few minutes each morning and pray quietly, then help Carl get Simon and Hugh bathed and dressed for the day, then I'd head down to the offices we'd set up in the pub and continue the painstaking work of identifying and claiming property left by Spartans, helping some sell broken buildings as construction sites, helping others to get access to their bank accounts, helping yet more with their attempts to claim state benefits as a precursor to returning to their home towns and cities.

We weren't ready to return yet, Mike was looking into the whole families' properties and it seemed that all of them he'd claimed so far were derelict, burned out shells only worth selling for the land. But things were progressing, one step at a time and some people had begun to leave the island, just as others had begun to contact their human relatives.

It was one afternoon, almost three months to the day since we'd moved to the island and I sat in one of the private rooms in the pub, set up to enable people to trace and contact human or other relatives who were still free. I clutched Carl's hand as I finally plucked up the courage to dial a very familiar telephone number.

"It's ringing" I whispered. Carl gripped my hand tighter, knowing how scared I was. I just hoped that she would speak to me once she knew who I was.

"Hello?" came a voice, achingly familiar. I gulped a few times.

"Mam, it's Winston" I said, my voice breaking as I fought to hold back my tears.

"Winston? Lord in heaven, Winston, my boy, is it really you?"

"Yeah, mam, it's me" I said. "I'm just callin' to say hello and sorry."

"Child, what you sorry for?"

"Not contactin' you earlier. Askin' you to disown me and stuff" I mumbled

"You've got not'in to be sorry for, child, promise" she gushed. "Your letter was a surprise but I did as you asked. People came, asking if you was my son and just like you wanted, I said no. But why didn't you tell me before? You've lived with these people for a few years, why didn't you tell me?" she asked sadly.

"I was scared, mam" I admitted softly.

"Pull yourself together boy, this is your life, where's your pride? Where's your backbone?" she snapped. "You might love a man but I didn't raise no fairy, put some steel in your spine" she commanded.

"Yes mam" I whispered and to my surprise, she started laughing. "Mam?" I asked, bewildered at her apparent mirth.

"Boy, you'll be the death of me yet" she chortled. "First you is gay and I've got no chance of grandchildren and that hurt, Winston, finding that out. Then you write and tell me that you've got sons after all with one of these" she paused, sorting her words out, "her-maph-ro-dite people and that to keep them safe I need to say you're not mine. But son, you are mine and these boys of yours are my grandbabies. So, do I get a chance to see them?"

"Mam, you mean it, you're not mad?" I whispered, shocked.

"Winston, darlin, I'm very mad. I'm mad you didn't trust me enough to keep your life a secret before you got arrested, I'm mad I've you've not given me the chance to hug my grandbabies yet, I'm mad that I had to lie to the po-lice to keep you safe. But even though I'm mad, I understand, son. Are you comin' home?"

"Not yet, mam" I said, "it's still not completely safe. We're going to move back in a group and stick together. It shouldn't be more than a year or two, it might even only be a few months before we get back, it depends what houses we can find" I explained.

"A year or two is too long to wait" she said in her no-nonsense voice. "Is there a spare bed up there for an old lady?" she said.

"Yeah, `course mam, you can have ours but why?" I stumbled.

"You're getting a visitor, boy. Now tell me the name of this island you're on and I'll work out how to get there" she said and I could hear her smiling.

Three weeks later found me stood nervously on the jetty, pacing up and down across the damp concrete. I watched as the small ferry boat crossed the water, bringing my old life inch by inch closer to my new one. I'd spoken to my mam and gone to church with her regularly but we hadn't really gotten to know each other since I'd taken the job in the gay bar in the city centre and she'd lectured me for hours on my responsibility to the family name, telling me in no uncertain terms how disappointed she was that I wouldn't marry a woman to have some children of my own. But now it seemed like she might be accepting of my life -- only time would tell.

The boat came closer. Docked. I watched as the ferry men prepared the ship. Then she emerged. An achingly familiar face, she carried a couple of large shopping bags and pulled a floral-patterned suitcase onto the concrete jetty and looked around, taking a deep breath. Our eyes met and I gripped Carl's hand tighter as she saw us and began walking over. Simon was clinging to my knee and Hugh was being cuddled by Carl as she walked over to us and placed the bags carefully on the ground.

She stood about two feet away and looked at me for a long minute. Then to my surprise she shot her hand out and slapped my face. "That's for runnin' away and not sharing your life with your mother" she said curtly. Then she smiled, reached over again and ruffled my hair in the way she always used to before pulling me down and kissing the same slapped cheek. "And that's for being my boy and comin' back to me" she said gently.

"Mam" I said, tears in my eyes.

"Winston" she said, hugging me, her own tears flowing. "I thought I'd never see you again, I thought you were dead but praise God you're alive and you've returned to me!" she cheered. We stood together and cried for a few minutes, then she looked at the three people I was with, Carl and the two children. "Carl, isn't it?" she said, extending her hand to my lover.

"Yes ma'am" he said gently, taking the offered hand and shaking it. "Less of the ma'am, you can call me Gloria" she instructed, before kneeling down and looking at Simon. "And you can call me grandma young man" she said to the child.

"Spartans don't have grandmas" he said. This had been a familiar line for the three weeks that we'd waited for her arrival and nothing we'd said had helped him to understand.

"Your daddy Winston is human, that means he has a mum" Carl interrupted quickly, explaining yet again the concept to our little boy. "So you have a grandma. Your cousins all have grandmas too, uncle Mike had a mum and so does uncle Clive. Just because they're not around doesn't mean they're not still your cousin's grandmas. But your grandma is here for you because she still loves your daddy Winston. We've told you this before. I promise, you do have a grandma" Carl finished.

He looked at my mother. "Grandma?" he tested the word cautiously.

"Yes, child, grandma" my mother replied in a soft voice. She understood how difficult this was for Simon, I'd explained in one of our subsequent telephone calls that he was having some trouble with the concept. "An' your grandma is cookin' tonight so show me your kitchen and get out of the way" she bustled.

"What you makin', mam?" I asked. "Jerk chicken, rice an' peas, curried goat `an plantain an I'm gonna do some dumplin's too. Got enough here to feed an army" she smiled, hefting one of the very full shopping bags. "Just need the rice, you got some of that I hope?"

"Yes, mam, we've got rice and some extra chicken too" I grinned. I loved my mother's cooking and had sorely missed it. "Well then it'll be a feast indeed" she grinned. "So how many am I cookin' for?" she asked.

I looked at Carl, then back to my mother. "It's up to you, there's me and Carl and little Simon here" I began and she tut-tutted. "You told me Carl's got a few brothers and you've got a few nephews. So how many am I cookin' for?"

"You want to meet everyone?" I asked and I knew that surprise was evident in my voice. "Sure do, boy, now, show me to the kitchen" she grinned.

She promised a feast and that's what we got. Wow, was the food good. The jerk spice was hot and the curried goat creamy and we all ate too much rice and one too many dumplings, they were delicious. "That was so good" Phil exclaimed. "Mmm" Daniel replied, "but man am I stuffed!"

"Can no one eat these last bits of chicken and a few more spoons of curry?" my mother asked, waving a ladle around dangerously. "Come on, it can't go to waste. And there's three dumplings and a heap of rice left, come on" she urged.

"Mam, we're full" I explained.

"Come on, what about you two?" she turned to Greg and George. "You're hungry young men, surely you two can eat some more?" They both declined.

"Gloria" James said, and she turned to him, "the food's been wonderful, please don't take our inability to finish it the wrong way but we haven't eaten so well in a long time, we simply don't have the appetite anymore" he said softly and my mother frowned, not understanding.

"In prison" Mike said, softer still, "we got enough food but no more than that. We eat anything else tonight and we'll be sick" he told her.

"They starved you?" she asked, a lilt in her voice that would have been dangerous had it been directed at any of us. Mike shrugged. "Not really but we weren't over- fed if you know what I mean. We had sufficient" he smiled.

"That's inhuman" she exclaimed, her temper heating up. She opened her mouth again but I spoke before she could. "Mam, except for you, me, Clive and Daniel no one here is human" I reminded her. That stopped her tirade mid-tracks and she looked sheepish, apologetic. "Sorry, I forgot" she mumbled.

"Gloria, don't be sorry" James said to her, "we're not. It means a lot to us that you've come all this way to visit your son and grandchildren. A lot of humans are refusing to acknowledge their Spartan relations. I know your visit means a great deal to Winston" he smiled, nodding in my direction.

"James, he's my son. I don't care about anything else" she said warmly. "Now, this lot'll keep in the fridge and I'll cook it up for you for lunch tomorrow, how's that?" she smiled.

My mother stayed with us for a few days before it got uncomfortable. We'd given her our bed to sleep in, Carl and I struggled together in the single bed that Hugh normally used and our littlest boy shared with his brother. But she could see that it was awkward and knew that we didn't really have the space or the food to support a guest for much longer so she took her leave on a wet, windy afternoon. "Now as soon as it's safe you must all come to my flat and I'll make you a meal you'll never forget" she gushed as she shared hugs out to all my Spartan in-laws.

"We won't forget the meals we've had this week" Carl reassured her, "and we will come and visit, promise" he smiled, kissing her on her forehead. "Bye Grandma" Simon said, smiling. He'd gotten used to having her in his life and I hoped it wouldn't be too long before it was safe to go home.

We waved from the jetty as we watched the ferry take her away from our safe haven and back to the real world. "She was nice" little Simon said to me as I picked him up and hugged him. "Yeah, she's nice" I agreed, smiling.

Home

"There's definitely only the one?" I asked again. Mike sighed and nodded. "I've traced every single building we owned and I've had to put them all on the market as building sites, Winston, you know that as well as I do. Only the cottage was spared `cos Paul wasn't there when everything went to hell. It's been empty ever since."

"There won't be room, it's tiny" I protested.

"It's got three bedrooms and one's really quite big and we could use the dining room as a bedroom too," he replied, "and when we finally sell the land from the other houses we might be able to buy something else" he suggested.

"There isn't room for us all there, not even temporarily!" I retorted. "Come on, Mike, you know that. What do you expect us to do, put a tent in the garden? For godsake!" I said, exasperated.

He looked thoughtful for a moment. "Mike! That was a joke!" I told him.

Mike sighed. "Yeah, I know Win but we really do only have the one house left standing. If Si and Phil hadn't sold their all rental houses off to buy James and I the place in Cornwall then we might be better set up but we can't cry over spilt milk I guess. Now, I don't want to split the family up, we've supported each other through all this, I want us to stick together. Will you support me if we put it to a family vote, either all staying here on the island or all going and moving to Glossop?"

I sighed. Much as I protested I actually agreed with Mike. I wanted us all to stick together and I wanted off the island. I wanted familiar streets, a familiar motorway, familiar shops, familiar accents. This place wasn't home, Glossop was -- or was close enough at any rate. "I'll support you, man" I said softly and he smiled.

"I knew you would" he said.

We all agreed, of course. As much as the island was nice we all craved home -- with its busy motorways and built up suburbs. A familiar skyline was one with skyscrapers and old factory chimneys, not cliffs and hilltops. What we didn't account for was quite how impossibly small the house was with us all in it.

It was one thing to remember visiting James' and Mike's cottage when they lived there, quite something else to try and fit beds in for us all -- even with bunk beds, as I'd predicted, there simply wasn't room. Luckily it was summertime and we'd all adjourned to the garden to try and hash it out.

"Okay, first off, does anyone really want to go back to the island?" James asked us. "Be truthful" he asked, knowing that there had been some murmuring about doing exactly that. His question was met with silence and he sighed. "Then we do all want to be here, then?" he continued. We looked at each other and nodded.

"So it simply remains for us to work out how to make this work" he finished.

"Son, the house is too small and the family's too big, it's that simple" Phil sighed.

Just then we were interrupted by the doorbell and presently a lady came in clutching a tin of cakes. James introduced her as the next-door neighbour, Muriel. After a brief discussion she realised our dilemma and to my astonishment offered us not only room in her own house but said she'd ask a friend about yet more accommodation for us all. We were all touched but the Spartans seemed, as usual, slightly more tearful than the humans at her very kind offer. I looked at Carl as he wiped his eyes, trying not to let his emotions show and I subtly took his hand. "It'll all sort itself out, I'm sure" I whispered to him as James and Muriel began to dish out some very lovely scones smothered in butter.

Of course, as it worked out, Carl, myself, the kids and Carl's parents all moved in with the local vicar, Stacey. She was kind and generously opened her home to us without a second thought. It was a couple of days later that I sought her out with the express purpose of asking her to pray with me.

"You're a Christian?" she asked. She sounded surprised.

"Yeah, Pentecostal" I explained, "but because most spartan's aren't and I couldn't bear the thought of being separated from Carl and the boys I hid it quite a bit. I know Christ calls us to stand up and be counted but I just couldn't" I said, choking on my words as guilt and grief warred for supremacy.

"Winston, when it came down to it most of the disciples turned their backs and denied Christ when he was crucified, you're in good company" she said with a soft smile. "Just ask for forgiveness, that's all you need to do" she assured me. We prayed and it was comforting to hear her open, generous, non-judgemental style, very similar to the church Carl and I had once attended in the city centre back before all the arrests. It made me feel better and less guilty and I worshipped with a lighter heart afterwards.

We settled into the town, close enough to Manchester that it could easily become home but I still felt a little unsettled. My mother had visited us but we hadn't yet returned the favour as I was nervous about being away from the protection of the Spartan family and their obvious warrior instincts. Though they were more emotional they also had great physical and mental strength and could approach dangerous or awkward situations, such as being heckled and refused service in a shop -- something that happened numerous times -- with a calmness and clarity that I envied. But I couldn't avoid my mother and my old neighbourhood forever so one sunny Saturday morning found me, Carl and our children on a journey as I retraced my steps back towards the streets where I grew up.

We got off the last of the three buses that the journey involved and I suddenly felt like I'd stepped back in time and was 18 years old all over again. We walked from the bus stop on Princess Parkway around the corner onto Claremont road. Past the takeaway I always used to buy patties from. Past the old Claremont pub full of it's elderly white male drinkers. Past the Somalian café that was sited on the corner opposite the Beehive.

Carl was at my side and the boys held our hands, looking around with wide eyes as we walked. "I grew up round here" I told them, smiling.

"It's an interesting area, I'll give it that much" Carl whispered nervously. I could tell he felt way out of his depth, being the only white face visible on the street, currently crowded with Saturday afternoon shoppers going to and fro. I could almost sense his tension, the calculating air of his inner warrior that he rarely drew on but which he was using almost automatically, unconsciously working out how best to defend himself and our sons should we be attacked.

"They aren't going to attack us, hon" I whispered back, smiling and in the back of my mind hoping that I was right. "Maybe a few vulgar words but nothing else."

He looked at me, shocked, then grinned. "You know what I'm thinking" he smiled. It was a statement, not a question.

"I grew up with some of these guys, they're mostly quite cool" I explained.

Just then a shout came from across the street. "Hey, battyman!" The guy who yelled, all skinny, six foot four of him, complete with dreadlocks, a gold tooth and skin darker than mine, came over to us. He grinned and held his knuckles up and I bumped them and grinned back. "Hey King, what's hap'nin?" I asked.

His name was Kevin but he normally went by the nickname King and I'd known him from school. He launched into a long monologue, mostly in Patois but with a few bits of English sprinkled in, saying how long it'd been since he'd seen me, telling me about his wife and baby daughter and his job. Carl, I could tell, was tense, especially with the way he'd shouted over to me -- battyman wasn't normally a kind way to talk about a gay man but I'd known King forever and he used it mostly as a joke.

"So who's the dude, dude?" he asked me, nodding in Carl's direction and slipping back into regular English. Carl's tension slipped away a little as he began to be able to follow the conversation once more.

"You open-minded, man?" I asked him straight. He shrugged. "Come on, Win" he said, "even when you first was out as queer you was always a bud. Who is he?" he asked.

We'd gotten to my mother's flat by this time and she had obviously been waiting and watching for us as she opened the front door. "Hi mam" I called, "we'll be right with you" I smiled. I turned back to King. "This is Carl, my partner and our sons, Simon and Hugh" I said to him softly.

He frowned at me and I could tell he really didn't get it. "Huh?" he asked, baffled.

"Boys, come off the street an' have this conversation" my mother called, having heard what I'd said.

"You better come sit down" I said to King and he meekly followed us inside. "Grandma, do you have any fizzy pop?" Simon asked almost before the door closed. "Course I do" she smiled. "Come on, you two, come to my kitchen and leave your dads to talk with King for a bit" she said.

"Is he a real king gramma?" I heard Hugh ask and my mother laughed. Her reply, though, was mostly unintelligible as she moved out of earshot and I turned back to my old school friend.

"Grandma? Dads?" he asked, even more confused.

I took a deep breath and instinctively reached for Carl's hand. King noticed it but apart from raising his eyebrows, said nothing. "I've not been around for a while `cos we've been in prison" I began and his eyes widened. "Jesus, Win, did you get involved in a gang, I thought you knew better than that?" he asked me bluntly with a faint look of distaste at the prospect flowering across his face.

I shook my head. "No, I wasn't there for a crime I'd committed. We were all arrested and imprisoned without charge or trial. Even the children" I explained. He frowned, then as I watched, realisation slowly dawned.

"You're one of them non-humans ain't ya?" he said to Carl in a slightly accusatory voice. Carl nodded. "Yeah, I'm Spartan" he replied in a clear, calm voice that I knew was the speech of the warrior aspect of my lover. "As are our children" he continued.

"Our? As in yours and his?" King asked him, pointing at me. "Oh, man, I never" he gasped, then looked from Carl to me over and over again. I tensed myself, expecting perhaps a verbal outburst, perhaps even to be punched or spat at but to my surprise he did the one thing I never expected.

He started laughing.

A soft chuckle at first that developed into a full-blown belly laugh. "Man, those boys are your sons, ain't they Win?" he asked when he finally got his breath back and I nodded and grinned sheepishly.

"And you were pregnant with em?" he said to Carl, who replied in a soft voice, "we call it gestation, not pregnancy, but yeah, I carried them."

"Man" he gasped again, shaking his head over and over.

"King, you okay man? We still cool?" I asked uncertainly.

"I always knew you was weird, man" he grinned at me, raising his knuckles for another bump, which I returned gratefully. "Course we're cool, we're mates, bro" he said. He sighed and took a deep breath. "You movin' back round here?" he asked me.

I shook my head. "Nah, it's not safe for Carl or the kids, we're all in Glossop with the rest of Carl's family. It's better up there but I needed to visit me mam, you know?"

His face showed obvious relief. "That's cool, man, it's just some of the guys round ere aren't exactly the most understanding, I wouldn't want ya to get on the wrong side of em down a dark alley, if you catch my drift" he said a little sadly.

"I know it wouldn't be safe most of the time, that's why we came up on a Saturday afternoon, when there are the most people around" I answered.

"Listen Win" he finished, "I need to go do some stuff but we'll stay in touch?"

"Yeah, course, man" I grinned, "let me give you our phone number, call me, yeah?" I wrote down the digit on the corner of an old newspaper and handed it to him and he pocketed the scrap gratefully. "Laters, man" he nodded as he got to his feet

Just then Simon and Hugh came back in the room carrying plastic glasses full of fizzy pop. "Laters, boys" King grinned.

"King, gramma says I need to ask if you're a real king or not" Hugh piped up in his reedy, toddler-voice.

"Course I'm a king," he chuckled, "I wouldn't let people call me king if I weren't would I? But lets make that our little secret, okay kid?" he mock-whispered, bending down and pretending to whisper into my littlest boy's ear.

"Okay King" Hugh said, giggling. King took his leave from us and let himself out of my mother's flat and I turned back to Carl. "He was my best friend at school" I explained, "and I don't think I could have had a better bud." Carl smiled. "I can tell" he said to me, then King slipped from our minds as we enjoyed my mother's company -- and cooking of course. I swear we all left several kilo's heavier by the time we managed to extricate ourselves from her clutches and head back to get to the bus home.

"I enjoyed today," Carl said later that night as we lay together in bed. The boys were fast asleep, they'd been exhausted and had passed out hours ago.

"Really? You're not just sayin' that?" I asked.

"Really" he smiled. "Perhaps you can invite King up here to meet everyone?"

"One step at a time, hon, he's still got a few rough edges" I chuckled, "how do you think your dads' would take it if he yelled `battyman' to me across the street? Or your brothers for that matter, James would have a fit."

Carl giggled. "I know but perhaps they'd have to get used to it. You've lived our life for ages now, it's only fair that you get the chance to live your own again."

I leaned in and we shared a deep, passionate kiss. "You're my life" I whispered softly as I kissed down his cheek and nibbled gently on his ear lobe. "You're my life and my love forever, you and the kids. I love you, hon" I told him. He turned and met my lips and kissed me back fiercely. "I love you too Win" he replied.

Divine

It was some weeks after our first visit back to Moss Side. We'd gone back regularly to visit my mother and to see King and a select few of my old friends and had settled down in our new homes and new routines.

But life wasn't as easy, or as calm as I think everyone had hoped. James and some of the others had become increasingly distressed at their inability to pray to their god and had arranged, with help from many others, to go back to their temple site in London. We were scheduled to go with the rest of the family the following day but I really didn't see the point -- what would my Spartan relations gain by seeing their ruined temple? But mostly for Carl's sake I kept my opinions to myself -- he was very excited and had spoken to James at length about the visit.

We lingered over breakfast that October morning -- not having much else to do of course and Carl was reading the paper.

"Hey, we've got a scientific name!" he exclaimed, chuckling

"What you talkin' about?" I asked, taking pleasure in my lover's amusement.

"You know how humans are Homo Sapiens?" he said and I nodded. "Well we've been given the name Homo Spartans and amazons are Homo Amazons. Fun, eh?"

I laughed back. "Kinda unoriginal" I observed, draining my coffee cup "and how are they explaining your evolution? Have they got that far?"

Carl scanned over the article and shook his head. "No, erm, it says, `more study into genetic diversity is needed, blah, blah, blah, no direct evolutionary evidence acquired as yet.' So it seems not. Obviously they've not talked to Lord Apollo" he grinned.

I squirmed, suddenly uncomfortable with Carl's mention of the fictional deity he worshipped. Carl noticed and patted my arm. "I'm sorry, love" he apologised quietly. "I didn't say that to upset you, it's just" his voice trailed off.

"I know, hon, I know" I smiled back, catching his hand, turning my head and laying a gentle kiss on his fingertips.

We left home very early the following day -- the journey to London is always a drag, it seems to take forever. We'd borrowed the vicar's car and Phil and Simon were with us too. I drove since there was currently some debate about giving Spartans their driving licences back -- not that they'd ever been taken away but since all Spartans had relied heavily on forged documents it seemed the DVLA wanted to confirm that all the licences held by Spartans were the real thing and not yet more forgeries. Being behind the wheel also gave me something else to think about besides what we were doing that day. I was unaccountably anxious for some reason and not thinking helped.

We met up with Mike, James, Alex, Daniel and the others at their derelict temple site. James and Mike had come down the day before to help a couple of the lawyers from the original firm -- the only two surviving lawyers as it turned out -- to take back possession of their swords from the police.

Carl and I stood at a distance and watched as first James, joined shortly after by Mike, put swords on and began a strange series of movements that Carl told me were prayers. Simon and Hugh were restless and as we watched I idly wondered how long this charade would continue -- I hoped it wouldn't be long for the children's sake.

Then before my eyes the impossible happened and the world changed.

I yelled but I couldn't have told you what I said -- I was mostly incoherent and I wasn't the only one. A perfect circle of cloud, thick and white, concealed James, Mike and a good portion of the rubble. I felt myself began to shake and fell to my knees, unable to stay standing.

"No! Impossible!" I gasped. I turned to Carl who was equally stunned but whose face showed joy rather than the fear that coursed through me.

"Apollo" he breathed in wonder. He, along with dozens of others, began to strip, kneel and pray, some with swords taken from James and Mike's car, some without. Carl had one since we'd been stood near the vehicles. I looked at the cloud, at Carl and his sword, devoutly praying to his god. And I found myself suddenly doubting every truth I once held dear.

Still kneeling, shaking, staring at the crowd, at my stunned sons, at my naked lover knelt in prayer, completely without thinking I found myself undoing my shirt.

The cold autumn air gave me goosebumps as I slipped shoes and socks off. At my trousers I hesitated, afraid of being naked -- that was one thing too far, too much for my overwhelmed mind. I bowed my head, half dressed, closed my eyes and prayed.

I prayed in hope, in thanks, in fear, in wonderment. I prayed for Mike and James, both gone, hidden from view. I prayed for my lover. I prayed for myself, begging forgiveness for being half dressed though I couldn't have said if I felt guilty for still having my pants on or for undressing at all. I prayed wordlessly, emotions overwhelming me, I wept in anguish at the pain I felt, the doubts that assailed me -- because for the first time in my life I didn't know who I prayed to.

"Daddy Winston are you okay?" Simon asked me in his wondering child's voice. I looked at my eldest son and after a few false starts I managed to speak. "I'm not sure, Simon, I'm feeling a bit odd" I told him in a quavering voice.

Carl opened his eyes and moved his forehead from the pommel of the sword and openly stared at my naked torso. "Win?" he whispered. "Carl" I replied in a broken voice. I wanted to say more but words failed me. Yet he seemed to understand and drew me and our boys into a tight embrace. "it'll be okay, Win, I'm sure" he assured me softly.

Then the cloud lifted to reveal my blood-splattered brothers in law, a perfect circle of white marble and a beautiful statue of bronze. Some people seemed more shocked at this but I couldn't be -- I don't think I had any capacity for shock left in me. James commanded us all to kneel and pray and I did so willingly, even going so far as to help Hugh take his teeshirt off when he began dragging at it.

We knelt and I felt, through James' hand, a powerful touch, simultaneously both loving and terrifying. "Winston" a silent voice acknowledged me.

"My Lord" I choked in reply. No questions -- they would come later. No hesitation -- not after a deity's touch. No names -- they felt irrelevant and would only serve to make me panic. I worshipped without doubt -- I'd felt -- and seen -- the divine.

Growing up different

This chapter explores Spartan attitudes to family and children. This chapter starts about three years after the temple to Apollo in London has finally been rebuilt, when Gabriel is about 8 years old.

Main characters:

James Philipson's brother, Thomas, `Tom' who is 9 years James' junior (Spartan) Tom's partner, Clive (human) Their sons:

Matthew, who is the same age as Gabriel Sebastian, who is 7 years Matthew's junior. Their neighbours: William Peterson, a Spartan man Christopher Watts, William's human partner

Foster parents

William Peterson and his partner, Christopher Watts, walked out of the clinic with leaden footsteps. Neither was able, yet, to cry, both were numb from the heart wrenching revelation the doctor had delivered at their appointment.

Will was spartan and had recently miscarried and due to the way it happened -- his filaments simply disintegrating -- they'd both asked to be tested for SRV, spartan reproductive virus. And both were positive.

It wasn't clear which partner had passed it onto the other -- though they'd met when they were 19 and 20 years old respectively both had had sex before being bonded. Will had, when in prison as a teenager during the Incarcerations, played the sorts of games that spartan boys long to play -- much to the amusement of their fathers and the mild disgust of the prison guards and officials at the institution where he, his fathers and brother had been held. Chris hadn't ever considered the possibility of being joined in a spartan partner bond since the species had only been forced into the open only three years before they'd met and he'd taken the typical path of young gay men -- slept with as many people as he could.

Though Will had become emergent within a year of the pair meeting, he'd let that opportunity pass as both were still young and didn't feel able to be fathers yet. But he'd attempted to carry a child on his second emergence at age 25 and the spontaneous abortion of their son just two weeks in had prompted the visit to the GUM clinic.

They were lucky, in one respect -- with the newly developing field of spartan medicine the SRV virus was at last diagnosable. So they now knew what the problem was and Will knew he'd never carry a child to term no matter how many times his filaments emerged.

"Hon, I'll still love you, promise" Chris said softly as they walked through the cold October drizzle. Their footfalls were slow and plodding as they made their way through the city centre streets towards the bus stop so they could go home. In reply, Will just let out a quavering breath, as if he wanted to speak but wasn't able to find any words to express what was on his mind. A single tear dripped down his face, becoming lost in his shadowed stubble and goatee beard.

They got home to their flat just a couple of miles outside the city centre of Glasgow, where Chris sat Will in the living room and proceeded to make a pot of chamomile tea to help calm his love down. He walked through the flat, a large, well appointed dwelling, with the steaming pot and two mugs, only to see Will sat, almost catatonic, where he'd left him on the sofa. "Here, drink, it'll help" Chris urged, pouring the tea.

Will sipped it and all at once his facade of calmness and clarity crumbled and he let out a gut wrenching sob, spilling the tea as he broke down in tears. Chris took the mug and enveloped his love in a tight hug, kissing the top of his head as Will sobbed into the human's shoulder. "I love you, Will. I'll always love you. So what if we can't have children? We've got each other. Come on, shh, we've always got each other" Chris whispered softly, repeating the speech over and over in a gentle voice, his own heart breaking at his partner's pain.

"I've always wanted to be a dad, Chris" Will eventually managed to say, the first words he'd spoken for hours. "I know, hon, I know" Chris replied, finally letting his own grief show. They held each other and cried until the tea was cold and it was dark outside, finally dragging themselves to bed where they fell into a troubled sleep.

The next few weeks were hard, though both tried not to let their grief overwhelm them too much. Will had a job as a linguistics lecturer at Glasgow University and after a fortnight's sick leave he decided for his own sanity to return to work. Chris was a dentist and had only taken three days away from work after the diagnosis.

They both poured themselves into their work and had they not been joined by the partner bond would probably have grown apart, however their love was as strong and undeniable as ever and both found themselves willing and able to talk about their feelings with their lover, as well as being a supportive shoulder for the other to cry on. So it was that by Christmas both had come to terms with the death of their son. They'd helped each other through their grief at learning of their diagnosis and they were in a surprisingly healthy place, all things considered.

One mid-December evening after they'd been out to brave the crowds at the shops in order to get some groceries, Will brought up something that had obviously been on his mind for a while. "Chris?" he said as they sipped glasses of wine, sat at the kitchen table after supper.

"Mm-hm?" Chris replied as he savoured his own glass of chardonnay.

"I know we can't have kids of our own but I was thinking. What do you think of us approaching social services and asking if we can be foster parents or perhaps even adopt a kid?"

Chris put his glass down and thought for a moment. "You serious?" he asked. Will nodded. "There's got to be kids out there who need a loving home. I'm not replacing our own sons, honey, it's just I really think we've got something to offer" he explained with an earnest expression on his face.

"I'm not being nasty here but would they really accept us?" Chris asked. "You know how hard it is for a lot of spartans and amazons to find a job and it's almost as difficult for humans joined in a partner bond. We're lucky with our jobs that I'm a partner in the practice and the university's a really liberal employer but you think work's bad, adopting or fostering kids would be almost impossible, I'm sure. Do you really think we'd have any chance of being accepted by them?"

"If there were amazon or spartan kids who needed foster parents, I'm sure they would" Will replied. "Can we look into it at least?"

"Of course, as long as you're sure then yes, we can look into it" Chris smiled. He was excited at the prospect but at the same time realistic, knowing that the likelihood of them being accepted was very slim indeed.

January brought the first in a series of interviews with social services, police checks, medical checks, training courses and innumerable forms to fill in. Finally in early spring, they had a meeting with the local head of social services. "Mr Peterson, Mr Watts, please come in" the woman said with a calm but stern voice. They followed her from the waiting room into the office, where she had a thick file of papers on her desk. "We've reviewed your application and I'm pleased to say that you are approved licensed foster parents" she began.

Will and Chris let out a huge gasp of relief and started to smile. The lady held up her hand. "However" she said, "there are some objections as to placing human children with you but our policy of trying to place children with parents of the same race also applies to species. Just as we'd try and place Indian children with Indian foster parents for example, we will try and place spartan children with spartan foster parents. Because of how tightly bound most spartan families seem to be it would be rare that a spartan child would need fostering but should it ever be the case, anywhere in the UK, you would be called upon."

She smiled now. "You're the first spartan bonded couple that's registered" she explained, "and though your medical history as well as species caused some concerns we firmly believe in having foster families that represent the diversity of the UK population so we cannot in good conscience refuse you. Congratulations gentlemen, if we need you we'll be in touch."

They left the social services office in high spirits and treated themselves to a special meal to celebrate. Both knew that the social worker was correct in her assessment of the closeness of spartan families but they were jubilant nevertheless at being accepted, even theoretically, as foster carers. "I wonder if we will ever get any kids to care for?" Chris said later on that evening, musing over the day's events.

"I doubt it" Will said, "at least not right away. But we're a step closer at least" he smiled. "We'll just have to see what happens."

Three weeks passed and one Friday morning the country woke up to the news of a fatal train derailment that had resulted in twenty seven passengers being killed. Will and Chris caught the report on the breakfast news and though saddened thought no more about it. Work passed as normal, as did a Friday night out, having a Chinese meal followed by a visit to the cinema to see a newly released film.

Kissing and holding each other passionately later that night in bed, they made love, using no protection and not feeling guilty, trusting each other without hesitation despite the knowledge that one must have infected the other with the virus that proved fatal to their desire to be genetic fathers to a son. They slept peacefully, in a warm embrace, only to be awoken at 7am by the piercing ring of the telephone.

"Is that Mr Peterson or Mr Watts?" a tired female voice said over the telephone. "Mr Peterson, Will Peterson" Will replied sleepily, "who's this?"

"I'm Sarah McDonald from Glasgow social services" the lady replied, "and I'm calling to activate your and Mr Watts' foster care placement, we have two children who desperately need somewhere to live" she said.

"Uh?" Will said sleepily, not hearing properly. To his surprise the lady laughed. "I'll be at your house in an hour and will have the children with me" she said. "I trust that'll give you both time to wake up?"

"What? Uh, yeah, okay, see you in an hour" Will said, rubbing his face in shock. He hung up the phone and Chris looked at his stunned face. "What hon? What is it?"

"It was social services. They're activating our foster placement and bringing two children to us in an hour's time" he said groggily.

"What?" Chris exclaimed. A mixture of shock and joy blossomed on his face. "You sure?"

"That's what it sounded like" Will replied. "Come on, we need to clean up, sort the house and make the kid's beds up" he urged his partner, clambering out of bed, "and we'll make the cot up too since the social worker never said how old they kids were."

They showered, dressed, cleaned up and sorted the children's bedroom virtually on autopilot, both still very sleepy and not quite believing that this was happening. They made coffee and cereals and Will was just stacking the pots in the dishwasher when the doorbell rang. The couple looked at each other, exchanged a nervous smile and went to the door together.

There on the doorstep was a white female social worker, human, with long blonde hair and bags under her eyes. In her arms she held a tiny, dark-skinned baby and stood at her side was a small child, also dark skinned, who seemed to be about five years old. "Hi, I'm Sarah McDonald, Glasgow social services, I believe you're expecting me" the lady introduced herself.

"Come in, come in" Chris urged the trio, who followed the men into the sitting room. "And who do we have here?" He asked the child gently once the front door was closed and they were comfortable. "I'm Alisha and this is my sister Sophia" the girl said in a surprisingly mature voice which broke with emotion. Confusion passed over Will's face and he looked at the social worker with a puzzled frown. "We didn't want to put amazon children with human parents and since we don't have any amazon couples on the foster carer's register you were deemed the next best thing" she said in a weary voice.

"Oh" was all Will could say. Chris, meanwhile, had taken the little girl into his arms and was cuddling her. "And how old are you Alisha?" he asked, already mentally raising her age from five human years upwards somewhat. "I'm eight" she said softly.

"What happened?" Will asked, recovering his shock and taking baby Sophia into his arms.

"I trust you heard about the train crash on the news yesterday?" the social worker said and the two men nodded. "Alisha, Sophia, their mummies and their grandmas were all on the train" she said simply. Alisha wailed. "Mummy Stephanie and mummy Petra both died" she cried, heartbroken. She sniffled and seemed to be trying to hold her tears back.

"Shh, shh, let your tears out sweetie, tears are good" Chris said softly to the small girl. Will also knelt down next to where his partner and the eight year old were cuddling, still holding Sophia in one arm. He put his other arm around the girl and his partner. "We're here for you now, petal" he whispered. "I know it'll be strange, having to live with us instead of your mummies but we'll do our best, okay?" he said gently.

The social worker cleared her throat and the men looked up from where they'd been comforting the children. "We're getting a team down to their house and we'll bring the children's personal affects together with some family photos" she explained, "and the rest will be put in storage. The girls are going to be placed with you long term since as far as we've been able to establish there are no other blood relatives in the UK. I'm sorry we couldn't give you any notice but the children come first, I hope you understand" she finished.

Chris and Will got to their feet and shook her hand. "Thanks, we'll do what we can" Chris said. The lady smiled. "I know" was all she said before giving both girls a cuddle and letting herself out of the flat.

Both men immediately contacted their managers, having home phone numbers for this very reason, explaining that their foster license had been activated and that they would need some time off work. The managers, close friends of both men, were pleased for them and they were immediately granted a fortnight's leave, following which they would both work part time so as to both spend time with the children. The rest of the day was spent cuddling, giving Sophia some pureed baby food and milk and helping Alisha to eat a little. The girls were tucked up in the same room at bedtime, one in a single bed and the other in the cot and because of a tiring, stressful day both children fell asleep almost immediately.

Finally Will and Chris were able to sit down and relax together and talk for the first time at length about the two additions to their family. "I expected a lot of things but never daughters" Chris said first, breaking the ice. Will laughed. "I know what you mean, hon, I know what you mean" he replied, leaning into a gentle embrace and kissing his partner lightly. "You reckon we're going to cope?" he asked shortly.

"Those two poor little girls need someone, for their sake I reckon we'll cope" Chris smiled, returning the kiss.

The next few days were chaotic for the four. Social services delivered a number of boxes of the girls' possessions to the house together with some photographs. There was yet more paperwork to fill in and multiple signatures were given. The baby, Sophia, seemed relatively calm, though she didn't sleep very well but Alisha alternated between grief and anger and the new foster fathers found her temper difficult to deal with. One afternoon after a particularly violent outburst had left Chris with a beautiful purple bruise on his jaw and Alisha lying on her bed, finally asleep having pushed herself into nervous exhaustion, the doorbell rang. Will was tempted to ignore the bell but it was pressed insistently and eventually he went to answer, planning to give whoever was at the door a piece of his mind.

Will pulled the door open with an irritated comment on the tip of his tongue, a comment which died in his mouth as he took in the appearance of his visitor. She was a very tall, dark skinned woman with hair shaved short. She was dressed in a long flowing cloak-type coat of multiple colours, deep reds, greens and purples, together with a shawl around her head and on her shoulder she had a large canvas bag. Her coat seemed to perhaps have been expensive at one point but had been worn for so long that it was mostly ragged and tattered. "Who?" Will managed to stutter after a second.

"Hmm" the woman replied, "not what I was expecting either but we work where we're sent. You have amazons here? Children perhaps?" she said cryptically. Before Will could answer, Chris came out of the kitchen, holding Sophia. The woman's face split with a small smile. "I understand, Spartan and human and the children are, what? Fostered or adopted?"

"Erm, who are you?" Will repeated again.

"My name is Zodwar" she said, "and I'm here to give you a crash course in caring for amazon children" she said, then paused, "I think" she finished, looking quizzical.

"Erm, come in" Will stuttered, still not quite sure who or what the woman was, opening the door wider. The lady followed the couple into their flat and once safely inside she shucked off her cloak and shawl to reveal a long, white dress, woven of fine wool, warm enough to be comfortable in the Scottish climes but elegant nevertheless. It had a turquoise silk strip sewn around the neckline and the hem and she wore an Egyptian-style medallion around her neck, shaped vaguely like a crescent moon.

"Who, what are you?" Will asked again. "I'm a priestess of the goddess of the amazons and I think she's sent me here to offer you some lessons and help in caring for her daughters" the woman said in a soft but firm voice. She caught Chris' eye and her gaze strayed down to the purple bruise he sported. "You don't have to accept my help but by the looks of it I think you might need some assistance" she smiled.

"I didn't know that the amazons had a goddess" Will said, recovering first. "Yes" Zodwar replied, "but she's quite a secretive goddess, she doesn't want the worship the Apollo requires, it's not necessary for her. But those of us who form her priestesshood offer worship and go where she leads us in order to carry out her will in the world. And unless I am mistaken you could use her help, I think?" Zodwar finished.

Will nodded and put his arm around Chris' shoulders, his human partner still cradling the baby Sophia. "We would appreciate your advice" he said gently, "but may I ask, can we know the name of your goddess?" he said.

The woman looked distant for a second, then nodded, as if to herself. "As long as you don't go shouting from the rooftops that she exists and keep the information to yourselves and your close family, you may know. Her name is Hathor" Zodwar answered. "Now, I think I need your names and I'd like some hot tea if you've got any, I'm parched" she said and the serious mood was broken when she grinned widely.

Will nodded and smiled. "I'm Will and I'm spartan, my partner's Chris and he's human" he said. He led their guest into the living room and went to put the kettle on. Chris offered her a seat and sat opposite, holding Sophia in his arms. The baby wriggled restlessly and the priestess said, "she wants to go down on the floor, she needs to learn how to use her muscles."

"I thought she was too young" Chris admitted, carefully lying the little girl down on her back on the baby's playmat they had. The priestess stood up and turned the baby onto her face and laid her on the rough carpet instead, folding the playmat away and laying it over the back of her chair before sitting down again. "She's about eight to ten months old I'd say" she replied, "and though she's more delicate than human babies of the same age she needs to start working on her strength. You'll see, she'll be far more relaxed if you force her to move rather than coddling her too much."

Chris watched, ever so slightly uncomfortable, as the baby tossed back and forth, not quite getting herself rolled over but trying. She seemed to be getting frustrated at the beginning but shortly he could hear her gurgling and making happy noises as she tossed herself around.

Will came in at that point and saw the baby and seemed automatically go over to pick her up. "Leave her, she's enjoying herself" Zodwar answered softly. Will looked at the priestess and then at his partner. "She needs to do strengthening exercises, apparently" Chris offered his lover and the woman nodded.

"But she isn't the only amazon here, she wasn't strong enough to give you that bruise" Zodwar observed after a second. Will gave her a mug of tea that she accepted gratefully. "She's got an eight year old sister, she's in bed, she got herself completely worked up earlier" he explained. Zodwar nodded. "Grief for her mothers, turning into violence, I'm not surprised. She needs to be woken" she stated flatly and shrugging, Chris stood up. Zodwar stood to follow him and then turned to Will. "Come on" she said.

Will made to pick up Sophia and Zodwar shook her head. "No, leave her alone, she needs to work on her independence" she explained. On seeing Chris and Will's suspicious faces Zodwar smiled. "Trust me, please, she'll be a lot happier if you give her space, I promise."

The three adults left the baby on the floor, still struggling to roll over and went to the children's room. Zodwar walked over to the sleeping girl and rubbed her forehead in a warm, parental gesture. "Child, beloved daughter of Hathor, rise and listen" she whispered and Alisha's eyes fluttered open. "Zodwar!" she exclaimed in pleasure, jumping out of bed.

"You've met, I guess?" Will asked. The priestess nodded. "I recognised her immediately" she admitted, explaining that, "Alisha's siring mother, Petra, was a worshipper and she and I prayed together at least once a month and I was a frequent visitor at their house when I needed somewhere to stay" she smiled to the men, then turned to the girl. "Alisha Mbali, it's nice to see you again" she said, "but a certain someone needs to work on their temper. What did your mothers teach you about control?"

"I must remember to control my emotions or they'll control me" Alisha recited, as if she'd learned by rote memory. "I must show as much respect for others as I would like them to show to me. I must never" she paused and looked to her toes, bashfully. "Go on, child, finish what you were going to say" Zodwar urged. "I must never hurt another without true provocation" she finished.

"So I think you owe the human, Chris, an apology" Zodwar said sternly. Alisha looked at Chris. "I'm sorry, I didn't intend to hurt you" she said. Chris couldn't resist but going over to the little girl, kneeling down and offering a hug. "I know, precious, I know. You miss your mummies, I understand" he whispered softly.

"Your temper will get the better of you again and again, Alisha, until you recover from losing your mothers" Zodwar said softly to the little girl as Chris cuddled her. "You will hurt Chris and Will again but you will hurt yourself more. You need to permit yourself to move on, to let your mothers go or else your emotions will take control again and again. How much exercise have you done?" she asked.

"None really" Alisha whispered and Zodwar shook her head, then turned to Will. "Do you have a home gym, some weights, a skipping rope, anything?" she asked.

"We've got a rowing machine" he said, "but we don't use it much, it collects dust mainly" he admitted. "Bring it up here to the children's bedroom," the priestess instructed, "and Alisha, I'd like you to work on it for at least one hour every day and use it as a meditation. Work until you are too tired to shout anymore and use that state to pray to Hathor and ask her to make you strong in mind and in body. Ask her to help you build all that inner strength up that you need. Ask her to help you listen to your foster parents and ask her to help you direct your violence towards the rowing machine and not onto someone's jawbone, okay?"

Alisha giggled a bit bashfully and replied, "I will ask, thank you Zodwar."

The woman now spoke to the two men. "Go and get the rowing machine and set it up and Alisha can get started whilst we talk" she suggested. It only took about 10 minutes for the men to lift the machine into the children's bedroom and show Alisha how it worked, then she was left alone and the three adults went back to the living room.

Sophia was exactly where she'd been left, fast asleep. "She never sleeps during the day" Chris exclaimed softly, surprised. "That's because she's had too much energy to burn. Pick her up, put her in her cot and she'll be fine" Zodwar smiled and Chris did as he was bid, lying the little girl gently in the cot and smiling to Alisha, who was exercising in the same room. He returned to his lover's side and they cuddled as they looked at Zodwar, who was finishing her now cooled tea whilst sat on the opposite sofa.

"Both of the girls need a lot of exercise to work out their emotions and their stresses" Zodwar explained. "They may look very small and delicate but they aren't. If you can't get them to calm down, you will need to restrain them and I'm sorry Chris but unless you're lucky you won't be strong enough to restrain an eight year old, most humans just can't manage it unless the child is already lying on the floor. Will, you should be able to, Spartan strength is sufficiently similar to amazon."

"Is she really that strong? She looks so little" Chris asked, frowning. Zodwar laughed and nodded. "She is very strong indeed, only an amazon her age or older, or a fully matured Spartan man or teenager will surpass her, strength-wise. But because of her experiences, all that strength is coupled with overwhelming bitterness, a tendency to throw a punch first and ask questions later and an almost complete inability to cry or show any of the softer emotions. If you don't channel all that strength properly she'll get into fights at school and I guarantee she'll put her classmates in hospital if she punches them."

"How do we channel her strength? What can we do to help her?" Will wondered.

"She needs a combination of gentle hugs and fierce exercise. She needs you to make her do two or more hours work on the rowing machine or running or other exercise, followed by a gentle hug and a story, sat on your knee whilst she is all tired and sweaty. If she asks to pray, help her to light a candle and burn some incense, it doesn't matter what scent but she must have exercised first. Martial arts would also be good for her if you can find a good teacher" Zodwar explained.

"I saw some Tai Chi classes advertised in the paper shop, what about that?" Chris asked and Zodwar nodded approvingly. "Perfect!" she exclaimed, "but only after she's worn herself out on the rowing machine. That's a very good idea" she said.

"Will we be able to talk her down if she gets angry?" Chris then asked and Zodwar shrugged. "That depends on how much she respects you. If she thinks you deserve to be listened to even through her anger you may be able to talk her down. But be careful" she grinned, "the best way to approach her when she's in a bad mood would be the way you'd approach an angry tiger. Give yourself plenty of running room" she chuckled and Will and Chris smiled back.

"I'm going to leave you now" Zodwar said, "but I'll be back should you need me. You're actually a good substitute, I can see why Hathor approves" she finished, then wearing an enigmatic expression she stood up, walked into the hallway where she picked her cloak and shawl off the coat rack and let herself out of the flat without so much as a goodbye.

Will and Chris looked at each other and chuckled. "That was an interesting visit" Will said and Chris nodded. "Have you heard of Hathor before?" he asked and Will shook his head. "Never" he said, "but I've got no reason to doubt her, especially taking Alisha's reaction into account." They smiled and leaned in to share a gentle kiss. "You think we can make this work, then?" Will asked, gently caressing Chris' bruised jaw with a soft fingertip. Chris turned his head quickly so that the fingertip was at his lips and placed a soft butterfly kiss on his lover's hand. "I know we can" he smiled.

Glasgow

"But dad Tom, I don't want to move, my cousins are all here at the same school and uncle James uncle Mike and Granddads Phil and Si and everyone, it's not fair!" Matthew exclaimed.

Tom looked up from where he was packing dishes into a box and met his son's eyes. "You know why we have to move" he said softly but sternly. "We haven't been able to get proper jobs anywhere around here and your dad Clive's just been offered a post by Glasgow University. We can't afford to turn it down, it's too great an opportunity" he said.

"Yeah, he's gonna be a doorman, how great an opportunity is that?" the eight -year old sneered and Tom sighed. "Matty, they're paying all the rent and bills on a lovely flat for us that we're getting completely free and your dad Clive isn't going to be a doorman, he's going to be the campus security manager. And there's a great school right near where we're going to live that already has non-human children attending. You'll like Glasgow, I promise" he tried to reassure the angry child.

He turned back to the kitchen cupboard that he'd been trying to empty for the last ten minutes, only to hear his younger son, Sebastian, begin to cry -- the baby had obviously just woken up from his sleep, probably by his brother's raised voice. Sighing, Tom pushed the box to the back of the counter and went to collect the baby from his cot in the small bedroom he shared with his brother.

He returned to the kitchen to find Clive, his partner, coming through the door. "That's all our clothes in the car" he said, "you finished emptying our kitchen stuff?" he asked. They only had one cupboard of their own kitchen possessions, largely relying on Muriel's facilities when they wanted to cook -- she was the old lady who owned the house next door to James, Mike and the others, who had invited Tom, Clive and their children to take some rooms in her home when they'd first moved back to the town.

"I'm not even half way there" Tom replied, "Matty wanted an argument and Seb's just woken up" he explained, quite unnecessarily since Seb was still crying restlessly and Matthew had anger and resentment written all over his otherwise handsome features.

"What's up Matthew, really?" Clive asked his oldest son softly as he sat down at the kitchen table. "I don't know" the boy replied in a soft mumble, joining his human dad. Clive put his arm around the boy's waist and pulled him into a hug. "Why you so dead set against us moving?" he asked. Matthew shed a brief tear which he hastily wiped away. "I don't know" he repeated. "You understand we have no choice, don't you son?" Clive finished. Matthew couldn't hold his emotions in anymore, he turned to Clive, buried his face in his shoulder and cried.

After a good ten minutes of sobbing, he was all cried out. Clive had, by this time, pulled the boy onto his lap. "Come on, talk to me" he whispered.

"Am I going to have all these problems too, with people hating me and everything just `cos I'm not human?" the boy asked in a very soft voice, so quiet Clive could only just hear him.

Clive sighed. "By the time you're grown up things might be easier" he answered, "but I'm not going to lie, Matty, you'll probably have a hard time. After all, people only learned that Spartans existed when you were a baby. You took your first steps in prison and at the time we didn't know if you would ever be permitted ever to walk as a free person, you could have been in prison your whole life and never known what it means to be free. So I know it's not nice but son, if not getting a job is the only problem we have then we're lucky, okay?"

"It's not fair!" the boy wailed, starting to cry again. Seb, surprised by his big brother's outburst, started to cry again and both dads comforted their children until the tears calmed down.

It was another hour before the remainder of the packing had been done and stowed in the vehicle they'd hired for the trip. Luckily the suburb of Glasgow they were heading for was to the south of the city and they expected the drive to only take four hours or so, even with rush hour traffic. As they were preparing to leave, Phil and Simon, Tom's dads and Matthew's granddads arrived to wave them off, as did a good proportion of their cousins and uncles. Uncle Mike came up and gave Matt a hug. "You be good, you hear?" he asked.

"Yes uncle Mike" Matthew answered, "but where's uncle James and Gabriel?" He was quite close to his cousin Gabriel since they were the same age and up until two days ago had been in the same class at school. "They've had to go to the temple in London, Matty, it's the full moon tomorrow" Mike told his nephew softly, who looked like he wanted to cry at the news.

"Come on, no more tears" granddad Phil said, taking the boy into a cuddle of his own. "Me and your granddad Si will be up very soon to visit and I'm sure if you ask nicely, your uncles Mike and James and Carl and Winston and Alex and Daniel will come and visit, and all your cousins too. And I bet you'll make some nice friends in your new school, you just watch."

At this Matt cried even harder into Phil's shoulder. "What is it, Matty?" he asked.

"I won't make friends!" he yelled, "they'll all hate me `cos I'm Spartan and not human, it's not fair!" he cried out between huge sobs and floods of tears.

"Come on, come on" Clive came over. "We need to go, Matty, son, please?" he said softly. The boy wailed all the louder and his fingers tightened in a vice-like grip around his granddad Phil's back. Clive prised the fingers apart and picked the boy up, ignoring the sudden flurry of fists on his shoulder. "Let me go, let me go, I don't want to leave!" Matthew shouted as his human father struggled to keep hold of his very strong, very stubborn son.

"Matty, hey" came another voice, a new voice. The boy looked up to see his oldest cousin, George, who was standing there, with his own son, baby Stuart, in a buggy. It was Greg, George's partner, who was standing next to his lover, who'd spoken.

Matthew sniffled and Clive carefully lowered the boy to the ground, seeing that his attention was on his cousin and not on running away or fighting. "Hi uncle Greg" he said. Greg wasn't technically his uncle, just his cousin but he'd naturally begun to call the much older boy `uncle' from being very small.

"You know how my dads died?" Greg said and Matthew's tears dried up as he nodded affirmatively. He'd heard the story from his own dads but Greg had never spoken about it himself before. "They stood up for me and for you and for your family and because of that they were murdered. They knew it'd be dangerous but they did it anyway because they refused to let their fear get the better of them." He reached over and took Matthew's chin into his gentle hand. "Because they knew that to live in fear is a terrible way to have to live. Don't run from who and what you are, Matty. Now, go, start your new life with a smile on your face and pride in yourself. And Matt?" he finished.

"Mm-hm?" Matthew mumbled. "Don't be afraid" he finished with a gentle smile.

Matthew permitted his dad Clive to finally steer him into the car and fasten his safety belt. He didn't like the way the belt chaffed against his neck but didn't argue as both his fathers were sticklers for abiding by the laws and keeping both their sons safe -- neither wished to see the inside of a gaol again, nor go through the pain of loss that their brother and brother in law, Alex and Daniel, suffered when their unborn son was killed. After some final goodbyes the family were off, driving first towards the M60, Manchester's orbital motorway, then joining the M61, the M6, crossing the Scottish border and joining the M74 and finally reaching the city of Glasgow that evening.

They'd stopped a few times for toilet breaks and to eat and of course to change Seb's nappy. So it was quite late and already dark when they pulled up outside a three storey sandstone townhouse. "You sure this is the right address?" Tom wondered. Clive pulled the paper out of the glove box that his new employer had sent to him. "Yep" he said, "this is the house."

"But it's gorgeous" Tom breathed, smiling with amazement.

Clive nodded. "It is rather, isn't it? Apparently the flat they've rented for us is the one upstairs and it's fully furnished, they've even installed a cot for Sebastian. Anyway, we'll know soon enough if these keys fit the lock or not" he smiled back at his partner, pulling the set of keys they'd been posted from another envelope -- they had, of course, been sent separately from the flat's address for security reasons.

The keys did fit and the family entered their flat for the first time. Immediately in front of them was a staircase which they followed upstairs, to find a kitchen, a living room, a big bathroom and a study on the first floor, and then a second staircase revealed three nice bedrooms. In the kitchen they found a letter addressed to them sat next to the kettle. It was short and simple, welcoming them to the flat and explaining that some basic groceries had already been put in the fridge and the cupboards.

Clive took the bag of sheets and duvets, which had been placed in the car in an easy-to-find spot and quickly made up Matthew's bed and Sebastian's cot and the two boys were tucked up. "Me and your dad Tom are going to finish unpacking the car and then call the car hire place and they're going to come and pick it up" Clive explained to a sleepy, still tearful Matthew. "And tomorrow you can help get your room all nice and we'll unpack everything else, okay? But you have a good sleep, night night son" he finished.

"Night night daddy Clive" Matthew mumbled sleepily, calling his dad by the more babyish form of address simply because he was a little scared and very tired. Clive kissed him gently on the forehead then left the room, leaving the door slightly ajar and the hallway light on so that there was a little bit of a glow in the bedroom.

He and Tom began to unpack their belongings and compile a list of the things they'd have to buy to finish their home. Luckily, as well as the flat, Clive had been given a moving home package, not much money but enough to get some essentials -- like pans and teaspoons, two of the things they quickly realised they didn't have. The hire company came just after eleven pm to collect the car and finally Clive and Tom fell into their freshly made bed, both weary after their long drive and longer evening.

The following day dawned bright, a little chilly and with the threat of drizzle hanging in the air but that was only to be expected from a spring morning in Scotland. Tom and Clive awoke to the sensation of a half-grown person wriggling his way under the duvet. "Your feet are cold, Matty" Tom mumbled to the boy, who cuddled in between his dads.

"They're getting warmer now" he smiled.

Tom tickled him, making him giggle. "That's `cos you've got them on my belly you little stinker" he said, smiling to hear his son's happy laughter.

Just then both men heard their youngest son, Seb, shout from his cot so Clive got out of bed, quickly collected him and the four, parents and children, cuddled together as they woke up. Presently Matthew's feet were warm enough so with more giggles he allowed his dad Tom to get up and go make a pot of coffee. Soon Tom was back with two steaming mugs of coffee, a cup of warmed milk for Matt and a bottle of the same for Seb and the four relaxed together.

"It's nice being able to cuddle up like this" Matt said after a while.

Tom looked at his eldest son. "You've always come and cuddled up to us, things aren't going to change that much just `cos we're living somewhere new" he said softly. Matt's smile slipped and his lip seemed to quiver.

"Hey now, what's up?" Tom asked.

"I don't know, I thought I needed to be grown up and stuff now we've moved and grown-ups don't cuddle their dads" he said tearfully. Tom swept him up into a tight hug. "I still cuddled my dads, remember? Your granddads Phil and Si, I always gave them a big hug whenever I could. I didn't go sleep with them cos I've got Clive to cuddle up to in bed but we hugged a lot and that doesn't need to change, Matty, just cos you're growing up or getting older, not unless you want it to. Okay?"

Matt gave his dad a beaming smile and a big hug in return and lay there, happily, for a few minutes longer. Presently Clive said, "Seb's nappy desperately needs changing so come on, lets get up." The four climbed out of bed and Clive took Seb to get bathed and dressed whilst Tom helped Matt out of his pyjamas and into some clean clothes. Then the boy was sent downstairs to watch television whilst Tom and Clive laid Seb safely back in his cot and got out of their own sleep shorts and into decent clothes, ready for the day.

They had a filling breakfast of porridge and honey, after which they agreed that they would spend the morning finishing sorting the house out, then the afternoon shopping for the things that they were missing. The following day was Clive's first day at work and an appointment had also been made at the local junior school, where Tom was to take Matt mid-morning to meet his teachers and enrol. But for this day, they could spend it together as a family, sorting out their new home together.

The unpacking went quickly since Tom and Clive had mostly done their bedroom and the kitchen the previous night. The only things that needed to be put away were some spare linens and towels, the living room stuff and the things from Matt and Seb's bedroom. Seb had a great time digging into the big box of stuffed toys that were all his and scattering them all over the floor but even with the help of the overly-enthusiastic littlest family member, who wasn't even quite a toddler yet, the unpacking was soon finished.

After a quick lunch of toast with marmalade since they had nothing else in, the four walked from their new home to the bus stop, a necessity since they didn't have their own vehicle. They soon were on their way to the city centre and toured the shops, purchasing all the things they'd overlooked. They didn't spend much money, still wary of losing it and not used to having much anyway but they got the things they needed along with some much-needed groceries. They got home, put their purchases away and sat and cuddled whilst listening to the radio and playing a board-game together, another necessity since they couldn't afford a television yet, until Clive had received his first pay packet.

That evening as Matthew snuggled into bed, his dad Tom read him a bedtime story then kissed his son softly on the forehead. "We're going to visit your new school tomorrow, are you excited?" he asked.

Matthew shook his head. "I'm scared, daddy Tom" he admitted, again slipping back into a babyish form of address out of shear nervousness.

"I'll be with you tomorrow and we can check the school out together, how does that sound?" Tom replied and Matt smiled, though it didn't take a genius to tell that the grin was mostly forced. "And I'll tell you something else" Tom said, whispering conspiratorially.

"What dad Tom?"

"I reckon you're beginning your growth spurt already" he said. "You'll already be taller than everyone in your class, I guarantee" he whispered. Matt's eyes went wide. "Really?" he asked.

"I think so" Tom smiled. "I reckon it's not just fear that's made you so tearful, I think it's your hormones going wild too" he told the still-little boy. "Now sleep" he said, "you've got a big day tomorrow. Night night Matty" he whispered, kissing him once more.

"Night dad" Matthew smiled, closing his eyes.

Clive was up and out of the house early the next morning, though not too early to go into the boy's bedroom and give them a kiss, a hug and a "see you tonight." Breakfast was quite leisurely since they'd all woken up at seven am and they didn't need to be at school until ten. Tom bathed and dressed Seb whilst Matt had a shower and pulled on some clothes -- he didn't yet have a new school uniform as Tom had to wait until the day's appointment to get uniform vouchers.

Before long the three were at the junior school gates, Seb being pushed in his buggy and Matt walking dejectedly at his dad Tom's side. They went in through the main door and introduced themselves to the school secretary and shortly were beckoned into the head teacher's office.

The head teacher, Mrs Cox, seemed nice and had a very friendly smile. "Hello Matthew, or is it Matt?" she asked first.

"Mostly Matt but some people call me Matthew" the boy answered softly and the head teacher nodded. "Okay then, Matt, welcome to your new school" she smiled. "I hope you're happy here, we don't have any other Spartan children at the school but there's an amazon girl who is in your year, we've put you in her class, I hope that's okay?"

Matt looked at his dad nervously and Tom spoke up. "Matt's a bit scared of being picked on by the human children" he said softly. "At his old school he was in the same class as two of his cousins and my whole extended family lived in a very small area so everyone knew us. But here, I think he's worried `cos he'll be alone. But thanks for putting him in the same class as the amazon girl, that'll help. What's her name?" he finished.

"Alisha" the head teacher answered.

School

"Alisha, come on, time to get up" Will nudged the little girl. "Exercise then breakfast before school, please" he said gently.

"Two more minutes" the little girl replied in a sleepy voice. Will pulled the duvet down and tickled her and she giggled. "Now, young lady" he said, smiling. She smiled back and climbed out of bed and went over to the rowing machine still in her pyjamas. She began her exercise and Will lifted her baby sister, Sophia, out of the cot and laid her on the bedroom floor so she could also exercise. She'd progressed to being able to roll from her front to her back but still couldn't roll any further, though it didn't stop her trying.

He left the room and went into the hallway to find his lover, Chris, exiting the bathroom, freshly shaved, teeth brushed and with trousers on, awaiting only a shirt, tie, socks and shoes before he was as decently attired as a dentist should be. "Are the girls up?" he asked and Will nodded. "I've set them up for their exercises and I'm going to get in the shower" he said. "Can you make me some coffee, honey, then go and watch over Sophia? If she moves too fast she might get her fingers trapped in the rowing machine and that wouldn't be fun" he observed and Chris nodded. "Sure thing" he agreed and they went about their regular morning routine.

An hour and a half later and Chris had already left for work. It was his turn to do a full day at the dental surgery and Will to spend it taking Alisha to and from school, caring for Sophia and doing some household chores. They took it in turns, Monday to Saturday, doing turns about with their work days, Will working Monday, Wednesday and Friday as a lecturer and Chris Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday as a dentist, them both having Sunday off to spend together as a family. Will was helping the girls on with their coats and getting Sophia's buggy out of the house ready to walk to school. Alisha talked animatedly as they walked. "Miss Campbell said there's a Spartan boy starting at school today" she told her foster dad.

"Oh?" Will replied, "I didn't know of any Spartan families who lived near here" he observed. "He's just moved house Miss Campbell says" Alisha replied, "so he's really new, he only got here yesterday."

They presently got to the school gates and Will scanned the crowd of parents for someone who looked new and appeared to be Spartan. He soon spotted a likely man and wove his way over to him with Alisha at his side and Sophia in the buggy. The man had a sullen-looking boy with him who plainly didn't want to be there and also pushed a baby in a buggy. "Hi, you new?" Will asked, by way of introduction.

Tom nodded, taking in the man in front of him. He looked Spartan but couldn't be since the children with him were female. "Yeah, my name's Tom and this is Matt" he replied, placing his hand on the child's head.

"Dad Tom, don't" Matt whined and Will knew by the child's use of both the title dad along with the name that he had certainly grown up in a Spartan family. "I didn't know there were any other Spartans living nearby, I'm Will Peterson" he smiled, holding his hand out for a shake. Tom took it and shook graciously but still eyed the children by Will's side.

Will noticed the looks directed at the girls' way and pre-empted the question. "And these are my foster-daughters, Sophia and Alisha, both amazon" he introduced the girls. At this the little boy's sullen face was split with a smile. "So you're the amazon girl in my class?" he asked Alisha and she nodded. "I hope you don't mind me saying but you look very little. How old are you?" he asked.

"I'm eight" Alisha said in a proud voice and Will was at once glad that she'd exercised so thoroughly that morning, otherwise she could have gotten angry with her new classmate. As it was, Matt didn't seem to notice Alisha's attitude. "That's cool, so am I!" he replied. "What's our teacher like, the head teacher said I was going to be in the same class as you."

"She's nice but very strict" Alisha smiled. The children continued their conversation as their dads wished them both a good day. Will just laid a parental hand lightly on Alisha's head, Tom on the other hand cuddled and kissed Matthew tightly. "Be good" he admonished the boy before the bell rang and the children all filed into the playground.

"Which way d'you walk?" Will asked once the children were all safely in school. "That way" Tom said, pointing. Will nodded. "I walk the same way, let's stroll together" he suggested and the two walked side-by-side, pushing buggies and talking.

"So what's brought you to Glasgow?" Will asked presently. "My partner's finally got a job" Tom explained, "and we couldn't turn it down. He's working for Glasgow University and they've paid for a nice flat too so we can finally get off benefits and earn our own way again."

"I work part time at Glasgow uni as a lecturer, they're a really good employer" Will offered. "So where are you from originally?"

"Glossop, near Manchester. My dads and brothers and nephews all still live there, it's a nice little town" Tom supplied. Will's eyes went wide. "That's where his holiness James Phillipson is supposed to live, did you know him by any chance?" he asked reverently. To his surprise Tom laughed. "He's my brother" he answered with a grin, "so yeah, I know him."

Will almost tripped over his own feet in surprise. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean" he began to mumble. Tom stopped him. "He's just an ordinary guy most of the time but we all know that when Apollo's with him we need to be just as respectful as everyone else. James is my brother but my lord Apollo isn't, after all. But I bet I could tell you stories about James that'd make you blush every time you saw him ever again" he laughed.

Will's eyes went wide. "Really?" he asked. Tom laughed all the harder. "'Course" he said, "what are little brothers for?" Will laughed at this and his discomfort evaporated as he relaxed in Tom's company.

They discovered that their flats were only around the corner from each other, less than five minutes walk. Tom and Seb went to Will's place and sat and drank coffee whilst the babies played together. Tom was initially worried that Seb would be too rough for the little amazon baby but Will assured him that she would be fine. "She's tougher and stronger than she looks, trust me" he smiled.

They had an enjoyable morning, as did the children but household chores and lunch were beckoning so they excused each other, agreeing to meet up at three o'clock to walk back up to the school. With that Tom and Seb headed home and Tom began to prepare a casserole for supper -- they'd only been able to afford a very cheap cut of meat so it'd have to stew for at least three hours to be anything like edible. It was mixed with some water, salt, pepper, some barley, carrots and an onion and left in a large pot to boil. Tom peeled some potatoes that he'd boil and mash later on to have with it.

He put the children's clothes into the washing machine, then hung them on a rack in the bathroom once they were clean and suddenly it was five to three and he had to leave to go pick Matthew up from school. Hoping that his reluctant son had had a good day he got Sebastian into his buggy, locked the front door securely and set off to meet up with Will and walk to the school gates.

Bully

"Come on, our classroom's this way" Alisha said to Matt, dragging him by the hand through the playground and into school. For such a little girl, she had a surprisingly strong grip that astonished the Spartan boy. He allowed himself to be pulled into a nice airy classroom, full of pictures on the walls and circular tables that had five chairs around each of them. "Ah, are you our new pupil?" a lady asked. Matt nodded.

"I'm Miss Campbell, what's your name?" the teacher asked. "Matthew Thomasson" Matt replied in a soft voice.

"And you've already met Alisha, I gather?" she continued and Matt nodded.

"So, we'll let you sit next to each other to begin with. Alisha's fairly new too, Matt but she can show you around and help you get settled down. Okay now class" she shouted over the din of chattering eight year olds, "we've got another new student today, please all say hello to Matthew."

"Hello Matthew" the class chorused.

"Now, let's all settle down" Miss Campbell said, "and please get your reading books out, we're going to start with reading this morning. Matt, do you remember the last book you read?"

Matt couldn't remember so the teacher gave him a quick reading test and found a book at his level. He took his seat next to Alisha and began to read quietly along with the rest of the class.

The morning passed quietly and Matt found he liked the lessons and his teacher. At lunchtime he sat at the same table as Alisha to eat his meal and then they went and played hopscotch in the playground. Matt idly noticed that no one else would play with them but he decided that he didn't mind too much as Alisha was nice and was fast becoming a good friend.

After dinner they went back to their classroom and Miss Campbell had given out some sheets with sums on them. They began to work and the boy sat on the other side of Matt from Alisha poked him to get his attention.

"Yeah?" Matt whispered, looking over

"So why you friends with the weirdo then?" the boy asked Matt.

"Huh?" Matt replied, confused. The boy nodded in Alisha's direction. "The weirdo" he repeated, as if that explained everything. "She's not a real person, she's just weird" he grinned.

"I'm not weird, I'm amazon, you take that back!" Alisha yelled at the top of her voice, having heard the conversation. Luckily her exercise had helped her to rein her temper in so she managed to resist jumping across the desk and punching the offending boy.

"Alisha Mblai, what's up?" Miss Campbell called out as she hadn't heard the first part of the conversation but the boy sat at Matt's side ignored the teacher and kept talking. "My dad says you all should have been left to rot in prison" he replied, then his eyes went wide. "Oh my god, that's why you're friends with the weirdo, you're one too aren't you?" he exclaimed, pushing his chair away. "I'm not sitting here Miss Campbell, he might try and touch me or something."

"That's enough!" Miss Campbell exclaimed. "Darren! If I hear another word from you, you're going straight to the head mistress, do you hear me? You do not, ever, call someone names just because they're a different species to you. That's cruel and incredibly rude and I will not stand for it, do you understand?"

"He is a weirdo, isn't he? I knew it, I'm not sitting next to him" Darren yelled back at his teacher, standing up from his chair and leaving an increasingly infuriated Matt staring at him in shock.

"Sit back down this instant and be quiet" Miss Campbell said in a dangerously soft voice. Darren seemed to be complying and sauntered back to his seat but then leaned into Matt and said in a clear voice, "I don't sit next to weirdos."

Matt lost it at that point, stood up and punched his tormentor firmly on the nose. His fist packed a good blow and Darren's nose suddenly started to bleed as he wailed and sobbed. Matt, furious, went for another punch but to his surprise little Alisha held him back. "Matt, no, it's not worth it" she yelled. Matt struggled against her grip but by this point Miss Campbell was stood between the two boys. "Class, please work in silence" she said. "Matt, Alisha, Darren, please come with me" she said firmly and marched the trio from the room.

They got to Mrs Cox's office and the head teacher took one look at the fury mirrored on each face and beckoned them into the room. The school secretary was despatched to the classroom where they'd come from to sit with the remainder of the pupils whilst Miss Campbell and Mrs Cox dealt with the problem.

"I've done nothing wrong and he hit me" Darren shouted as soon as he saw the head teacher.

"You called me and Matt weird and accused us of wanting to touch you, like how's that not wrong?" Alisha spat back.

"Silence!" Mrs Cox shouted and the children's angry retorts died on their lips. "Now one at a time, what happened? Alisha?"

The little girl cleared her throat. "Mrs Cox, Darren asked Matt why he was sitting with me and he called me a weirdo so I told him I wasn't weird, I was amazon, then Miss Campbell told Darren off for saying nasty things and Darren said something to Matt like, `you're one too' or something. Then he refused to sit next to him and he was acting all horrible and then Matt got so mad that he punched him on the nose" she reported, "and I wanted to punch him too but I knew I was strong enough to make him have to go to hospital and that Matt would be too so instead I held Matt back and stopped him punching Darren again and hurting him too much."

"Matt, did you punch Darren?" Mrs Cox asked. "Yes" he said in a clear voice, "'cos he was saying horrible things about people who weren't human and he said he thought we should still be in prison and I just got so mad with him `cos I did some of my growing up in prison and I still get nightmares that one day I might end up being locked up again and he just was horrible" he said, beginning to cry as he spoke.

"Darren, why did you call your friends names?" Mrs Cox then asked.

"They're no friends of mine" he spat back, his temper still showing, "and they're liars, they wanted to make me like them and touch me and stuff and they just gave me the creeps and I couldn't stay near them" he yelled, hatred colouring his words and his face.

"That's enough!" Mrs Cox cut off his tirade. "You, young man, are suspended for three days for bullying. We'll call your parents now to come and collect you. Matt and Alisha, you shouldn't have reacted like you did but instead should have gone and stood near Miss Campbell and let her sort Darren out for you. Punching anyone is wrong, no matter how much they upset you. But I know you're both stressed and very hurt by what Darren said so for punishment all I want you to do is to write me two pages about what you should have done differently today, okay? Give it to Miss Campbell in the morning. Now, are you both going to be okay?"

"I was mad at Darren but I'm not now" Alisha offered. "And I'm upset but I'll be fine" Matt said. "Very well, back to your class. Darren, stay there and be quiet" she finished.

They returned to their classroom and worked quietly, the rest of the children completely ignored them. But soon it was home time and they left the school to meet their dads. Matt seemed to be delaying putting his jacket on and Alisha noticed. "What's up?" she asked.

"I promised my dads I'd be good and I don't think they'll think that punching someone is very good" he admitted sheepishly. Alisha grinned. "My dads will be dead proud of me that all I did was yell and not punch him though I really wanted to too. It's just `cos we're both stronger than humans, that's why it's better to yell and not hit otherwise they could end up really badly hurt" she said.

Matt looked horrified. "Darren's nose was bleeding, do you think he was hurt?" he asked. Alisha shrugged. "I don't know and even if he was there's nothing you can do about it now" she pointed out philosophically. "Now come on, let's go find your dads and my foster dads" and with that she dragged a reluctant Matt out into the playground and across to the gate.

Tom noticed Matt's dejection as soon as he saw him. "Hi buddy, what's up?" he asked. Matt burst into tears so Alisha replied, "a human boy was bullying us both and saying we were weird cos we're not human and Matt's upset cos he punched him."

Tom was grieved but sadly unsurprised. "You didn't hurt him too badly did you?" he asked. Matt nodded. "I made his nose bleed and he was wailing and crying and everything" he sniffled.

"At least it was only the one punch" Tom said, continuing, "it was only one punch wasn't it?"

Matt shrugged. "I wanted to punch him over and over but Alisha held me back" he admitted. Tom looked at the little girl, who seemed to be half Matt's height and weight. "I'm strong but Matt was almost too strong for me. I think we're about the same with our muscles and stuff but I don't think Matt really wanted to hit Darren more than once or else he would have forced me to let go" she explained.

"What about you Alisha?" Will asked. "Did you punch anyone?"

"No" she said proudly. "I remembered what my mummies taught me and what you've said and all I did was yell, I didn't punch or even kick" she smiled.

"Well come on, let's walk home. Did you get any punishment?" Tom asked. Matt and Alisha both nodded. "We've got to write two full pages about the things we should have done differently and give it to Miss Campbell tomorrow" Matt replied sheepishly. They began to walk home quietly, both fathers concerned for their children and hoping nothing more would come of the incident. They went to separate flats, did homework, ate supper and after a warm bath, went to bed. Though Matt was a little restless in his sleep he nevertheless didn't wake up until the alarm clock went off the next morning.

Matt left the flat reluctantly but cheered up when he saw Alisha walking towards him. Her baby sister was in a buggy but it was now being pushed by a different man. "This is my other foster daddy, Chris" she said as soon as they caught up to each other. Chris and Tom shook hands and the walk to school proceeded without incident. The morning in lessons passed pretty much the same as the previous morning, some reading, some maths and of course the other children in the class all ignored their non-human classmates. The only real difference was that Darren wasn't present, something both Alisha and Matt were grateful for.

Mid-morning and Alisha and Matt were working quietly when the school secretary came into the room and whispered something to the teacher. "Matt, will you come here please?" she called out and he went to the front of the room nervously. "You need to go to the office, Matt" he was told. "Don't worry, your dads have been called too" Miss Campbell assured him when he started to panic.

He was in Mrs Cox's office for only a few minutes when Tom came in pushing Seb in his buggy. He looked tired and worried. "What's happened?" he asked.

The head teacher nodded to Tom who said, "Matt, promise me you won't panic?"

The boy nodded apprehensively. "What's happened, dad Tom?" he asked.

Tom sighed with a quavering voice. "You know Darren, who you punched? His mum has asked the police and the courts to prove that you're as grown-up and sensible as a human adult, honey. And if they manage that, they want you to be arrested for that punch -- it's called assault and if they can prove that you think like a human adult they'll send you back to gaol for it."

"But, but, but" Matt stuttered, shocked beyond words.

"Matt, don't worry, we're going to sort this out. I'm going to call your uncle Mike and ask for some lawyers to come up and help, okay? Now, because this is a horrible shock Mrs Cox has already agreed that you can have as much time off school as you want, okay?"

"Daddy!" Matt burst into floods of tears and hugged Tom tightly. "Let's get you home" he sighed.

By nightfall Matt's uncle Mike and another lawyer, a human female called Angela Golding, were in Glasgow Matt was tearful and afraid and as his uncle Mike cuddled him Angela spoke calmingly. "Matt, there's been plenty of studies done already, the authorities wouldn't have let spartans continue in school with humans the same age had they not been convinced that any differences were only minor. You're eight, right? Well there's dozens of studies that show that an eight year old Spartan's mind and thoughts aren't any more mature than a nine or ten year old human's at the most, no matter what your body looks like `cos you're developed more like a twelve year old human. So don't panic, don't worry, they've not got a case, I promise."

"Will he have to go to court?" Clive asked, cuddling his oldest son. He was enjoying working again, that was certain, but never wanted his sensitive little boy to have suffered like he patently was. "No" Angela was adamant, "we can settle this easily without you being present, this is a legal challenge only, I promise."

The case was due for a preliminary hearing the following week, which gave Angela the chance to prepare her case -- she called on the main office and Mike's expertise a couple of times but she mostly worked alone. "It's an open and shut case, I promise" she assured Matt and his family.

The court date arrived and despite being told that he didn't have to be there, Matt wanted to go along and was sat with Angela and his dad Tom -- little Seb was being looked after by Chris who offered to babysit the boy so that he and little Sophia could play together and Clive, of course, being at work.

After the formalities and introductions were made the judge nodded to Angela and said, "okay, you claim to have sufficient evidence to get this case closed now?"

"Yes, your honour" Angela said confidently, "I wish to draw the court's attention to the studies done by the Royal Institute of Psychology and Psychiatry, specifically page seventy four, paragraph three, the point is marked in the copies of the report distributed to the court" she said, "if you would permit, I will read, `despite differences in appearance it is clear to the institute that based on all the studies a Spartan child's brain function and development progresses only at a rate between five and fifteen percent more rapidly than the average human child's brain function, i.e. a ten year old Spartan child would have a brain function approximately similar to a human child of no older than ten years, six months to 11 years, six months. For this reason the institute recommends that they are treated and educated at no more than one year older than their birth age.'"

Angela put the document down on the table. "Your honour, according to this study, accepted by the National Health Service and the United Kingdom Education Service and authored by no less than thirty respected psychologists and psychiatrists, the child at the centre of this case, master Matthew Thomasson, cannot be treated or regarded as being any more than fifteen percent older than his age by birth, which at the outside calculation still puts him under ten human years old and under the legal minimum age of criminal responsibility. I therefore call for this case to be dismissed" she finished with a flourish.

The judge turned to the prosecutors. "Were you not aware of these studies?" he asked incredulously. "Er, no your honour" the poor man had to admit.

"In the light of this report and unless you have any similarly documented proof that casts doubt on the capabilities and reliability of the aforementioned Royal Institute then I am moved to dismiss this case. Any objections?"

"Your honour, he's a disgusting animal who assaulted our beautiful boy!" Darren's mother wailed out, "you cannot allow" she paused and pulled a face of disgust, "that sort" she spat, "to walk the streets!" she hollered.

"Enough! Sit down and be quiet before you are charged with contempt of court!" the judge replied sternly.

Darren's mother was furious. "That child is the spawn of Satan, I will see to it that he does not live!" she cried.

"Okay, contempt of court and abusive language and threatening to kill a child. I think we've heard enough, bailiff if you please?"

The court bailiff stepped forward and arrested the woman and dragged her kicking and screaming out of the court room. "Someone call social services and get her poor son into foster care" the judge said and one of the court officials disappeared to do just that.

"Okay, where were we?" the judge smiled, "oh yes, case dismissed" he said, banging his gavel.

"That's it?" Matt asked, stunned. The whole charade had only taken an hour. Angela smiled. "Yep, thanks be to Apollo, that's it. You're free of this whole thing" she told the boy, who promptly burst into tears. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" he sobbed.

"Matthew" Angela said softly. He looked up and met her eyes.

"It isn't all my doing, Matthew. You know I'm also a priest of Apollo?" she asked and he wiped his eyes. "I didn't know that" he said. She nodded. "Well I am and it isn't me that needs the thanks, it's your god. Pray to him and thank him for your freedom" she finished in a bare whisper.

She left the court and Matt went home and returned to school the following day -- he hadn't felt able to go with the court case hanging over him but now he was able to enjoy being a child again. Alisha was glad to see her friend and they sat together, worked together, played together and even made friends with some of the more open-minded human children. Darren didn't return to that school -- apparently the foster family he'd been placed with lived some distance away and he had to move schools accordingly.

Will and Chris had become very close friends with Tom and Clive not least because they babysat little Sebastian during the court hearing. One evening when both families were sat together eating supper, something they'd begun to do at least once a week, Tom said, "Matt here is still really keen to go to the temple in London and pray to Apollo properly to thank him. Would you like to come with us?"

"I've never been to your temple" Chris admitted, "but I'd like to, if you're keen honey?" he turned to Will and asked.

"That'd be good, it's ages since I worshipped properly" Will admitted, "and it'd be nice to get a personal introduction to the high priest" he finished, grinning at Tom who laughed.

"I'll call James and sort it out, he might be able to arrange somewhere for us to stay too" Tom offered and so, almost a month after the case against Matt was dismissed, both families found themselves at the temple in London.

"It's huge" Alisha gasped. Matt smiled proudly. "My uncle James made it happen, he and my uncle Mike got Lord Apollo to come back" he said to his friend.

"Tom!" James greeted his brother a few steps away from where the children hovered, "glad you could make it, how's things?"

"Couldn't be better, Clive's got a good job and all's worked out well for Matt so we're here to pray. You said you had somewhere we could all stay?" he asked. Mike, who'd been hovering in the background, nodded. "You can stay with us and your friends have got the flat for the visiting priests" he said.

"Oh, sorry, I'm being rude, "Will Peterson, Chris Watts, meet my brother in law Mike and my brother James" Tom said, gesturing the couples together.

"Nice to meet you" Mike smiled, shaking both the offered hands.

"And these are their foster daughters, Alisha and Sophia" Tom continued.

"Hello girls, how are you?" James asked, kneeling down so that he could talk to Alisha properly.

"I'm excited, I've never been here before" Alisha said, "but I'm not sure about going into the temple" she said.

Chris frowned slightly and bent down to his foster daughter. "Why not, Alisha? You've been excited the whole way, why are you nervous now?" he asked.

She shook her head. "I'm not nervous, it's just I don't think I'd be able to get undressed and get my sword fastened and undress my baby sister too" she explained.

"Then I will do it for you" a deep, resonant female voice spoke from the doorway and everyone span round. "Zodwar!" Alisha grinned and ran over to the woman. "She's a family friend" Chris explained to the others at their quizzical expressions.

"Well, nice as it is to stand around talking I need to go and prepare for worship" James said. "Leave your bags with security and we'll collect them later, service starts in fifteen minutes" he said, before nodding to the group and disappearing down a side corridor.

"I need to go get our boys" Mike said, "we'll see you inside, okay?"

"Okay" Tom nodded and they headed to the changing rooms, Zodwar taking Sophia and Alisha to the women's change as their foster fathers headed to the men's change.

They all met in the temple proper a few minutes later, baby Sophia the only one without a sword as she was deemed too small and too innocent to require one. Alisha had a tiny blade, though, on a strap around her back and pointing over one shoulder. She walked over to where her daddies were waiting and Zodwar, armed similarly to Alisha, handed Sophia to Chris.

"Thank you for keeping my identity secret, it is appreciated" she said softly.

"We didn't want to advertise, you clearly didn't want people to know who you were otherwise you would have introduced yourself or warned us you were coming" Will told the lady who nodded and smiled. "But it surprised me a bit" Will continued, "that you'd come here at all, never mind worshipping Apollo" he said, nodding towards her nude form and sword.

"Apollo and Hathor don't actually mind me worshipping here" Zodwar explained, "but Hathor's something of a secretive goddess and she finds worship here a little ostentatious for her tastes but, like she says, she isn't the same sort of deity as Apollo. She prefers to remain in the background until she's needed. As do I, of course, however I was obviously needed today."

"But nay I ask, why are you keeping your identity a secret, even from our friends?" Chris wondered, shifting Sophia from one arm to the other as she wriggled and giggled slightly.

"Because James is a stickler for etiquette and he'll insist on giving me the same status as himself and then others will notice and Hathor's priestesshood will be pushed into the limelight, something neither us nor our goddess want" she explained softly.

As Chris, Will, Zodwar and the two little girls waited for worship to begin, in another part of the temple Apollo addressed his high priest. "James," came the voice of the god.

"My lord?" James replied silently as he buckled his harness tight in order to stop the swords slipping. He lifted the first blade out of the case as the god's voice came back. "There's going to be another deity here today" the god explained silently, "she won't make herself known to anyone and doesn't expect worship or sacrifice but since you're so sensitive to my presence you might sense her too. I'm just warning you so that you don't get too surprised" Apollo said and James could hear the faintest sense of amusement in his voice.

"Lord? Another deity? Who?" James managed to say after getting his surprise under control. "She's asked me not to tell you her name" he said, "since you'll never be in a position to worship her or feed her in the way she requires, suffice to say she's going to watch over two very young, very new visitors" Apollo explained and a picture of the two small amazon girls who'd been fostered by the Glaswegian couple his brother had introduced to him flashed into his mind.

"She's the goddess of the amazons" James said. It was a statement, not a question and the high priest felt his god answer to the affirmative. "Yes" he said, "but please, remember, don't acknowledge her, she doesn't want your acknowledgement. That's why she asked me to warn you of her presence" he finished softly.

James nodded in acquiescence to his god's presence and command and sheathed his first sword, that he'd held in his hand for the last few minutes, before taking the second sword and fitting it safely in its scabbard. He took a steadying breath, feeling Apollo's strength gather around him, then opened the door from the preparation room and headed out into the temple proper to lead the worship.

Matt stood near the back holding Alisha's hand as his uncle James began the service, reassuring her that everything was okay. Sophia was cradled in Zodwar's arms again and the lady observed the service with interest.

Finally the time came to draw the swords and pray with them. Matt and Alisha were helped to get into the right position and hold their swords correctly by one of the other priests and as he knelt Matt found himself praying, "thank you Lord Apollo for my family and my friends and for helping me to keep going even though I was scared" and it may have been his imagination but Matt thought he felt the brief touch of a hand on his head and a brief whisper through his mind. "You're welcome" the voice seemed to say, "you're welcome."

*** Joshusite worship***

This story is specifically about the worship of Joshua, Apollo's immortal son who becomes a deity of worship and healing. It takes place shortly after the deity's encounter with his twin nephews at the end of book 4, when the young god has achieved omnipresence and has established his own temples.

An approximate timeline of the major events in the Spartan world: Riots/outing of the Spartan race -- 1992 London Temple re-founded -- 1995 New York temple founded -- 2006 Birth of Joshua -- 2016 Joshua becomes divine -- 2027 Joshua's first centre for healing opens his father's temple in London -- 2029 Joshua achieves omnipresence -- 2040 Joshua's true temples dedicated to him and his worship begin to open -- 2042

Main characters in this story: Stuart & Colin, human brothers, one gay, one bisexual (not featured in any other story) Joshua

"Please?" my brother begged me for what felt like the millionth time. I looked up at the handsome building in front of me and back to my brother, sat crookedly in his wheelchair, struggling to sit comfortably, wracked with the illness that very soon would kill him.

"Colin" I pleaded though I wasn't sure what I was asking of him.

"Stuart, you've come this far. Please, I beg you, just take me inside" he said.

I took a deep breath, cursing myself for a fool then with an audible sigh of relief from my brother I began to walk towards the main entrance.

I pushed Colin's wheelchair into the foyer of the building, looking around apprehensively, not knowing what to expect. Surprisingly to my naive and judgemental eyes, it was light, airy and spacious. A reception desk was in front of us, with a beautiful floral display in a glass vase taking up most of the desk space. Behind the desk and to one side of the flowers sat a young man wearing plain white shorts and a white tee shirt. Faint orchestral music played in the background through unseen speakers and there was incense and various floral and other sweet scents lingering in the air.

"Hello, my name is Thomas and I'm one of the temple hosts today. How can I help you?" the young man asked softly, smiling at us.

I initially felt lost for words and didn't know what to say. The only things that came to mind were either rude or insulting so in retrospect silence was probably my best course of action. Luckily for both of us, Colin had rehearsed this moment in his mind several times. "I've got bone cancer and it's terminal" he said in a gruff voice. "Stuart" he nodded in my direction, "wasn't convinced but I hoped" his voice trailed off into silence.

"Let me show you into the worship space and you can get comfortable" Thomas said, standing up and smiling. He came from behind the desk and I noticed absently that his feet were bare. He beckoned me to follow him through a pair of doors into a huge room filled with light and laughter. Sunlight streamed in through the glass- roofed ceiling and the incense and floral scents were strong on the warm air but not so strong as to be overpowering. Voices came from all directions but the room was filled with gauze and silk curtains arranged in an apparently haphazard manner, making it hard to discern how many people were in the room and where they were.

Thomas led us both down a narrow pathway between the silken tents and presently lifted up one of the gauze curtains and the lilac silk curtain underneath it to reveal a small private space. It was dominated by a large mattress upholstered with creamy coloured satin and covered in loose cushions in various colours. To one side was a low stone table made of white marble. "Do you need assistance to get out of your chair in order to lie down together?" Thomas asked and Colin shook his head nervously.

"I'm not, that is I can't" he mumbled.

Thomas smiled at us. "Nothing's going to happen if you're too nervous to even get out of your wheelchair" he told us both with amusement.

"It's not that, Stuart's my brother, not" Colin finally blurted after a lengthy silence during which I, too, was completely tongue-tied, shocked at the young man's assumptions.

To my surprise Thomas blushed. "Oh!" he said, "I'm so sorry, I assumed you were lovers. Would you like Stuart's assistance during the healing, Colin, or would you prefer someone else help you today?"

My brother was suddenly overcome with embarrassment. "Someone else please," he whispered in a tiny voice.

Thomas nodded. "Would you prefer a male or a female host?" he asked. He opened his mouth and I interrupted, "be honest, Tom" I told him, knowing that his normal instinct was to lie about his sexuality, something I'd never understood.

"Male please" he whispered, blushing furiously.

Thomas just smiled calmly and nodded, then to my surprise he turned to me. "And you, Stuart, are you going to offer worship or would you prefer to sit in the foyer and wait? We have a good library if you want to read something, these things can take some time" he asked me.

"I've never worshipped Joshua or Apollo" I told him. "I'm actually a Christian but I couldn't bare my brother suffering so if I can help him, then" I trailed off, finding it difficult to admit that I would willingly worship a god other than Christ. I was still finding it hard to admit to myself that I had willingly entered the building at all.

"You don't have to do anything or observe anything that makes you uncomfortable" Thomas assured me. He turned to my brother. "I'll send in a host to help you shortly, is that okay?" he asked and my brother blushed again and nodded. He then led me out of the booth, or tent, or whatever it was and we went back to the foyer. "Just give me a moment" he said to me and then briefly disappeared through a side door. I could hear voices murmuring and then a tall, handsome man who appeared a few years older than Thomas and who was also dressed in white shorts and tee shirt, came out, nodded to me and went through the double doors, presumably to help my brother.

"And now you, Stuart, would you prefer a male or female host or would you prefer to be alone? Since you're not specifically requesting healing but are here only to worship the choice is yours."

"Either gender's fine" I said. "I'm not actually fussy" I grinned sheepishly.

Thomas smiled. "In that case I will be your host. Come with me" he beckoned. We went through the doors and I noticed that a young woman dressed in the same attire took Thomas' place at the reception desk.

We went in a different direction, to another booth that was furnished in the same way as the one my brother and I had been led to although the silk curtains were pale green rather than lilac. Thomas laid himself down in a fluid motion, propping himself up on one elbow as he smiled at me gracefully. "Join me" he asked.

"What will happen? How does one worship Joshua?" I asked nervously, unable to permit myself to lie on the mattress. I didn't want to have sex with a stranger but suddenly I was in the middle of a brothel apparently preparing to do just that.

"I help you prepare and relax and when you're ready I leave and Joshua comes and joins you. Then you do as you wish. Most people just hug and kiss Him but some are willing to bring Him to orgasm in all manner of ways. It depends on you and how far you are willing to go, however most people in monogamous relationships and most lesbians and amazons limit themselves to kissing" Thomas said frankly.

"And the preparation?" I asked. I knew I was sounding suspicious but I couldn't help it.

Thomas laughed. "We take shoes and socks off and loosen any tight belts or buttons so you aren't uncomfortable when you lie down" he said, "nothing sinister, I promise! And some people light incense and candles or ask their hosts to give them a massage or reflexology. Literally, whatever helps you relax and calm yourself so that you are ready to meet with Joshua. That's all we do" he told me.

"And Joshua really comes to everyone in person?" I asked sceptically.

"Yes" he said softly, "but you'll have proof for yourself in a few minutes. Now come, relax" he urged me.

He got to his knees on the silken mattress and reaching up he took my hand and pulled gently. With some reluctance I knelt down and he urged me to sit. Reaching over with deft fingers he undid my laces and removed my shoes and socks before urging me to scoot further on to the mattress and lie down. He lounged back into the propped-up position he'd first assumed and reaching over, he undid the top button of my shirt and the button on the waistband of my jeans. "Just so it doesn't constrict you too much" he whispered when I opened my mouth to protest.

"How do you relax when you're at home?" he then asked me.

"Erm" I mumbled, "I read" I said, "or sing."

He laughed a gentle giggle. "Okay then, that's not really going to work here, so why don't you tell me how do you relax with your lovers?"

"I don't know," I blushed, feeling all awkward and embarrassed, not knowing what to say.

"Do you want me to take the lead then?" he asked and I nodded. He got up from where he lounged and crawled on his knees over to the small stone marble table. Underneath the table was a box of ornately carved wood and he pulled it out, reached into it and picked some incense in a burner, some candles and a lighter out and proceeded to light candles and set the incense alight. A sweet-smelling smoke began to rise, mingling with the tiny, flickering orange flames. He put the lighter away and took out another item, a small glass bottle, then turned back to me.

"Slip your shirt off and lie down I'll give you a back massage" he offered.

All in a daze I complied with his request, not really sure why I didn't argue, though I had to admit that I genuinely wanted to try and relax so that I could try and connect with the god who I hoped would heal my brother. He began to work the oil into my shoulders and for the first time in a long time I realised how much tension I carried.

"You've been so worried for your brother, haven't you?" Thomas asked and I mumbled an affirmative. "No more worries, if he is willing he will be healed today" I was assured as the strong, warm hands kneaded my back.

I lay there for quite some time, allowing myself to relax and I almost drifted off to sleep under the gentle pressure of the excellent massage. After a while, I couldn't have said how long, I gradually became aware that the feel of the hands was different. I sleepily turned my head and opened my eyes and suddenly realised that the masseur was no longer Thomas, the young temple host but was a man whose face was both infinitely comforting and overwhelmingly awe inspiring. It was Joshua.

"Lord?" I whispered.

"Mm-hm" He whispered back, continuing to gently knead my shoulders.

I rolled and turned around to look at Him and His hands dropped away from me. "Lord" I said and my voice trembled as I took in His beauty, His calmness, the sheer clarity of His eyes and the innocence of His smile. He reached for me and drew me into a sitting position and acting on instinct I threw my arms around Him and pulled the god into a passionate embrace.

Suddenly all my fears were groundless as I came face to face with the immortal deity and as I put all my passion and love into the embrace I found myself murmuring to Him, "heal my brother, make him well, I beg you."

"He is already healed and is resting" He assured me, whispering into my ear in an intimate, erotic fashion. "Your brother is healed" He repeated.

My joy at the news coupled with the warm breath on my ear and the closeness of the perfect, immortal body made me suddenly aware of my own body, specifically my erection that had without me realising swelled into full hardness. My loose, unbuttoned jeans had slipped down my hips and my organ was bare moments away from escaping from the confines of my boxer shorts.

For some reason I was neither concerned nor embarrassed, rather I was filled with an overwhelming desire for the deity in whose arms I found myself cradled. I leaned up and kissed Him, all in a daze and He kissed me back, putting a depth of passion I'd never before felt into His kiss.

The kiss lasted for uncounted minutes and as we pulled away it was the most natural thing in the world to let my drooping shorts and jeans slip right off, pulled away by my immortal lover. He lay down with me and His divine light flared briefly before sinking back to a gentle glow that revealed a perfect, naked body that simultaneously glistened in the candlelight and glittered with its own inner flame.

He ran His hands down my torso and I mimicked Him, caressing each of His perfect muscles, gliding gentle fingertips over His nipples. I kissed Him again and my memory brought me back, ironically, to my last girlfriend and the sex we'd had together. Seeming to know the way my thoughts were running, seeming to know that I was always the one `on top' when I had sex, suddenly the god and I were manoeuvred so that I would be able to penetrate Him, so that I would be the one in control. I kneaded and kissed the granite-like muscles that curved over his hip and thigh before pulling myself up to my knees and allowing Him to lead my rock-hard organ into His back passage. I had hazy glimpses of my ex, Pamela, as I made love to Joshua, me on my knees, Him lying on his side looking up at me and as I orgasmed deep inside Him, I felt Him spasm and cum along with me.

He pulled me down from my knees into His arms and we kissed deeply. As I embraced Him I became covered in His seed, which had erupted at the same time as my own. We were both covered in His bodily fluids and I didn't care, nothing mattered as long as I was in the arms of the god. I felt my love for Him burst from me and then the sensation of tickling deep inside my soul as He held me tight in His strong arms.

"Thank you" He said, the first words spoken in what seemed like a lifetime. He got to his knees and I followed, mirroring His movements, feeling suddenly bereft without Him.

"Your love has fed me well" He said solemnly. He leaned and kissed me and my heartache at losing Him was replaced with a sense of honour and privilege that I'd been given the opportunity to worship Him properly. "Thank you" He whispered again before slipping through curtains and away.

I fell back onto the cushions and laid there, half dozing, half sleeping as I basked in the sensations and memories. I knew He had consumed my love for Him, indeed I could feel Him still feeding on it as I lay still on the cushions, enjoying the scented incense, the faint music and the sounds of others' pleasure echoing around me.

Presently I heard the curtains rustle and opening my eyes and propping myself up on one elbow I saw my young host, Thomas, come back into the room. I was embarrassed at my nakedness but he was unperturbed and knelt beside me with a small smile playing on his lips. He put a basin of warm water, some cloths and soap and a towel down next to where he knelt.

"I'm here to help you clean up" he whispered.

"I can get it" I protested, sitting up but he put a gentle hand on my chest and eased me back down into a lying position. "Let me, it is my honour to serve my god" he whispered and began to gently, reverently, clean Joshua's seed from my torso before drying me with a soft white towel.

"I'll leave you to get dressed and I'll be back in a few minutes to show you out" he said softly, raising himself to standing and taking the basin, the cloths and the towel away with him.

It didn't take me long to make myself presentable again though I was filled with doubts about my own faith. I claimed to be a Christian but here I was, in a brothel- temple that had been raised to a strange deity. I turned and looked at the bed where I'd both lost and found my spirituality and couldn't help but kneel and cry. I felt a hand on my head though when I looked up no one was there. Do not cry came a voice, spoken inside my head and I knew it was Joshua. There is nothing to fear, love is not a crime nor is it a sin, it is simply an expression of the emotions that rule all of our lives. You have done nothing wrong, I promise He told me and with His words came a gentle reassurance that they were true, a reassurance that filled my heart with the warmth of His love.

I wiped my tears away and saw Thomas, kneeling beside me as if waiting for me to finish, or perhaps in worship alongside me. He met my tear-filled eyes and smiled. "We welcome all, we always have and we always will" he said enigmatically. "If you need us, please come" he told me gently. "Now, are you ready?"

I nodded and got to my feet and he showed me the way through the many veils and curtains back to the main door. I was only stood there a moment before my brother joined me, to my astonishment walking out unaided.

"Colin?!" I gasped. Though I'd been told that he'd been healed, seeing him so well, so healthy, standing on both feet unaided and without any pain stunned me. I suddenly found it hard to breathe and hugging my brother tightly, unable to control my tears.

"I'm healed! All the pain, all the stiffness in my joints, my headaches, everything has gone! It's a miracle!" he laughed as we hugged.

"It is indeed" he smiled to me before we walked together out of the temple and into the sunlight. As we walked towards where I'd parked the car I glanced back at the building that had changed my perspective and changed my life and at that point I knew I would be back.

*** The will of the gods***

This chapter takes place many years after the end of Spartan book 4 and relates directly to the two deities Apollo and Joshua. Readers please note that this chapter includes a section about human sacrifice and probably shouldn't be read by those of a squeamish disposition.

Main characters: Apollo Gabriel Joshua

Somewhere in orbit . . .

"Hey, son, what you doing up here?" Apollo thought silently.

"Just drifting" Joshua replied, sending the idea of a gentle smile along with his words. He enjoyed his father's company for a while as the pair looked down at the planet slowly turning below them. "I can see why people get so excited about coming into space. It's pretty magical" he admitted.

"What's up?" Apollo asked, perceiving that Joshua was bothered about something and hiding it.

"Ahmed's at the doctor's again, his blood pressure's through the roof" Joshua replied. "Oh, dad Apollo, what do I do if he dies?" the younger deity cried suddenly.

Apollo let his mind surround his son's -- since neither of them had a coherent form, drifting as thought alone through the upper atmosphere of the planet, he couldn't give him a hug. But the sensation was remarkably similar. "Shh. He's mortal, you're not. Josh, honey, you know he's going to die. I dread your dad Gabriel's death with just as heavy a heart and it was a heavy blow to us all when your grandfathers James and Mike died even though they were both old and ready to rest. But just as I dread it I cannot deny that it'll come, far too soon, he's already elderly" Apollo whispered, comforting his son.

"What will happen, when they're gone?" Joshua said. Apollo could hear his son's grief. "I mean, we're partner-bound to them, will we be able to love another?" It was a question he'd wanted to ask his father and the creator of the Spartan partner bond for a very long time.

"Part of you will always grieve for them" Apollo said simply. "If you hadn't already developed omnipresence then the death of your first love would have almost certainly triggered it. Part of you will stay at Tina and Ahmed's gravesides for the rest of your existence. Just as I stay at the gravesides of the mortals I've loved in the past, so you will for your lovers. And your partner bond, Joshua, will stay with them. You will stay and you will leave. You will grieve and you will move on. Part of you will fall head over heels for another mortal and will learn to love once more. And you will move on in your life and remember the joy you brought to the lives you touched."

Apollo held his son tightly and allowed him to feel some of the past grief he'd borne. "I've loved hundreds of mortals before your dad Gabriel. Loved them equally, totally, unconditionally and I will continue to do so for as long as my life lasts. None of my loves is diminished by my love of another -- that is one of the benefits of divine will, divine concentration, divine presence. So when Ahmed dies and when Tina dies you will be hit by grief that never ends but rest assured that it will never cripple you, you will move on as well, I promise."

Joshua's mind cried, cradled by his strong, loving father, as they drifted. After a time, in the manner of making conversation, Apollo said, "so, what are you up to today?"

"I'm at the doctors with Ahmed" Joshua began, "'cos someone needs to remember all the diet and exercise recommendations the doctor is giving him and it won't be him. Erm, Tina's helping me to heal a pair of newborn human twins who've both got deformed hearts so I'm in Paris with her. The doctors keep interrupting us though, I don't think they're very keen on us having sex in the operating theatre" he giggled. "But they wouldn't let the parents take the babies to the Paris temple so it's their own fault" he explained.

"Erm, I'm in all my other temples, of course, that's always a given. There's quite a few people in your Santa Rosa temple at the moment, your grandson Fred is drawing a crowd, he's something of an exhibitionist."

Apollo laughed. "He's your nephew as well as my grandson" he said. Joshua joined in the laughter. "I'm trying not to think about that" he told his father with a mock shudder. He chuckled at the man's antics before continuing.

"I'm at my Sydney temple too but I'm working with just one family there and have been with them for a few hours already. A young boy managed to slice his hand open on his first sword when he went to one of your worship services yesterday and he'll lose at least three fingers if normal medicine is relied on so I've offered to have sex with his dads to get the energy to fix it but they're still debating whether they could cope with me getting in between their partner bond or not. And there are twelve people currently praying to me and offering worship in the London temple and another nineteen in Manchester. Plus the three hundred and seventy three others who are praying in private who I'm listening too" he finished with a smile.

"So, a normal day at the office then?" Apollo said with deadpan humour. Joshua burst out laughing. "You could say that" he chortled, before a sense of erotic pleasure washed through his mind towards his father. "What was that?" Apollo asked.

"I've just orgasmed in several places" Joshua gasped. "I can't help but feel it in all my forms every time, especially when a number of different people all set me off simultaneously. It's the one thing that I can't keep completely separate, it passes all my boundaries every single time" he explained with a comfortable, satisfied glow.

Apollo chuckled. "It's because it feeds you, son" he said. "Every time I'm given a life I feel it over every one of my discrete forms. Lucky really, I guess, considering how many discrete forms I maintain." Joshua nodded, recalling his father's admission only a few minutes previously that he stayed at the graveside of every mortal he'd ever loved.

They drifted in companionable silence for a time. "You staying up here with me?" Joshua asked his father after a while. Apollo sighed. "I can but actually I need to ask a favour of you" he replied.

"What, dad? I'll do anything for you?" Joshua replied sincerely.

"I need you to be my priest at a presentation and confirmation" Apollo replied. Joshua's puzzlement was clear. "Of course I will, dad, but why? We agreed years ago that people would come and worship me rather than you if I led your public worship."

"I need someone to conduct the service who wouldn't be inconvenienced by being imprisoned" Apollo said softly and Joshua could hear the tension in his voice but was confused by the statement.

"Why, dad Apollo? What's going on?"

"There's a human gay couple who've adopted a baby and basically they're lying about it and claiming to be Spartan. If they go ahead with the presentation then the baby, the father or both will end up dead and my priest will have to go to the authorities and confess to wilful murder. And without the power of the death of a person I don't have the strength to convert the species of the two" Apollo explained simply.

"Dad? That's horrible, how could someone even consider such a thing?" Joshua gasped.

"The men still don't really understand what's involved in a presentation" Apollo replied. "Your dad Gabriel has tried to explain but they're not listening. And I can't just step in, it would contravene their free will and that's something I could never do."

"What would you have me do?" Joshua asked, sickened at the thought of killing a man yet willing to do so for his father's and the temple's sake.

"Act as priest for the ritual and kill the presenting parent once his humanity is obvious" Apollo said in a sombre voice.

"And the baby?" Joshua whispered.

"With the power of a person's death I'll convert the child and he can either live with his other human parent or can be adopted or fostered by a non-human couple" Apollo said.

"When is it due to take place?" Joshua asked.

"Tomorrow afternoon" Apollo replied.

Home, London . . .

"Hey, how did it go at the doctors?" Gabriel asked when the pair entered the apartment.

Ahmed scowled with grim humour. "I'm supposed to diet and exercise. I need to quit the puddings and the chocolate. And I've got a whole pharmacy's worth of drugs to take."

"It's not that bad" Joshua replied, smiling and cuddling his partner with his free arm even as he was speaking with his other father whilst orbiting the planet. "You only have a few pounds to lose, sweetie, it won't be that hard."

Ahmed snorted and scowled at his lover. "Hang on, Mr I-Can-Pick-My-Weight-At- Will, how the blazes do you know it won't be hard?"

"'Cos you'll have me at your side and I'll always be here to look after you" Joshua said softly, caressing the smaller man's unshaven cheek. "You growing a beard or are you going with the designer stubble look?" he teased.

"I might just grow a beard" Ahmed replied. "What do you think? Will it suit me?"

"I reckon it might but you know what Tina thinks about you being clean-shaven, she reckons she gets enough stubble rash as it is" Joshua chuckled.

"Yeah, like that's my fault how?" Ahmed laughed back. "If she insists on sitting over my face and rubbing her thighs on my cheeks then what does she expect?" he asked.

"And that's just become way too much information, I'm going to make tea" Gabriel interrupted, a blush flowering on his faintly-wrinkled face as he laughed and headed towards the kitchen.

At that point Joshua groaned and shuddered and lust flowed briefly across his beautiful, immortal face. "Who's set you off this time?" Ahmed asked with amusement, knowing that he'd seen his lover's fourth orgasm of the morning.

"The Australian couple and Tina triggered it simultaneously" Joshua managed to gasp, "oh, I love her, and you too!" he said, hugging Ahmed close.

"When'll Tina be home?" Ahmed continued his conversation, unperturbed by Joshua's words. He'd long since gotten used to his lover-and-god's need for sexual fulfilment and knew that as well as staying permanently at his and Tina's sides, his god also was pleasured by many people, sometimes numbering hundreds, through his network of temples.

"Her train leaves Paris this evening. Now that the babies are healthy she'll be on her way soon. She'll be back by bedtime" Joshua replied, having regained his composure. "And one more boy will continue to have two working hands and ten digits rather than only seven" he continued with a smile.

Gabriel came back into the room and offered Ahmed a mug of tea. "Dad, you need to go pour that one out and remake it without the sugar" Joshua said before Ahmed had managed to even take the cup. Ahmed laughed and scowled simultaneously. "You're really going to make me do this?" he asked.

"Yep" Joshua replied, kissing him gently.

Gabriel made another drink and Joshua took the sugary brew and presently the three were sat together. Joshua looked over to an apparently empty seat on the settee. "You going to tell him or shall I?" he addressed the empty air. "He needs to know, needs to understand" he said.

Apollo's solid form appeared at Gabriel's side and they hugged and kissed for a few moments. "Hon, Joshua's going to be the priest for the presentation tomorrow" Apollo said softly.

"They aren't Spartan are they?" Gabriel asked, accusation and anger both evident in his voice. He'd suspected that something wasn't right in the young couple who had asked to present their baby son but they'd lied quite convincingly.

Apollo didn't answer the question, at least not directly. "I want you to take every staff member in the building out, close the place completely except for the couple, their child and Joshua" he said. "I want everyone, from you down to the kitchen porter to go out and evacuate the building. I don't care where you go but stay in public, head out to one of the parks for a spontaneous team-building day."

"Why? What for?" Ahmed asked, confused.

Gabriel answered. "To make it clear that we aren't involved" he said, his normally gentle voice harsh. "You're really going to do it, aren't you?" he spat at his partner.

Apollo's face clouded with a brief flash of anger. "Of course" he said in a level voice.

"But darling, why? I don't understand, isn't there anything anyone can do to stop this?" he begged. Apollo shook his head sadly. "Their minds are made up. To force them to change their mind would be to contravene their free will. But at least this way I can protect you all."

"I'm not sure I understand" Ahmed admitted. "I know about your presentation rite, I've been often enough as Joshua's guest but" he paused. "If they aren't Spartan, if the baby's human" he said slowly, horror dawning.

"Yes, my lover demands a death and yours is going to provide" Gabriel spat, quite unnecessarily as Ahmed had already figured it out. He looked at his son and partner with tears in his eyes. "Why? Can you give me one good reason?"

Apollo shrugged nonchalantly. "You're mortal, you wouldn't understand" he said in a surprisingly soft voice. He reached his hand out to rub Gabriel's own fingers, splayed out on the settee cushion between them but Gabriel threw him off. "Don't touch me" he hissed, "don't you dare touch me." His tears dripped in rivulets and his normally beautiful face was clouded with a combination of disgust and fury.

Apollo suddenly looked hurt. "Gabriel?" he whispered. "I love you, hon, really I do, why does my choice of food suddenly offend you so much? It never has before."

"Why?! Why?!" Gabriel shouted. "You are going to force your son, our little boy, to murder a defenceless baby and you ask me why? For fuck's sake, Apollo, why the blazes do you have to ask me why?"

"Gabriel, it's going to be okay," Apollo began.

"No! There is nothing you can say that could possibly make this okay! I swear, if I didn't love you so much" Gabriel shouted but Apollo suddenly took him into his strong arms and swallowed his horror, his anger, in a deep, passionate kiss. As he did so he spoke directly into his lover's seething mind. "The baby isn't going to die" he said firmly.

"But" Gabriel returned the thought, permitting his immortal lover to hold and kiss him, even if he didn't return the kiss quite yet.

"The baby will live. This I promise" Apollo whispered silently.

"Then why all the fuss? Why do you want Joshua to do the presentation?" Gabriel asked as the kiss finally broke, his fury waning slightly.

"Because if things go as I expect them to, there will still be a human death and Joshua is the only ordained priest I have who won't be inconvenienced by imprisonment. He has agreed to help me in this, though it grieves him. We can't take away a person's will or a person's choice, that more than anything else forces us onto this path." Apollo showed a faint trickle of grief as he explained this.

"If the baby is human yet he is still presented, how will he survive?" Gabriel asked.

"Dad Gabriel, please? Don't ask, I beg you. Just by saying what we have could make it seem that you have helped us plan this. You don't want to be imprisoned dad, please, leave it?" Joshua begged.

Gabriel gulped and tried to control his roiling stomach, his disgust, his fury and the sudden fear he felt as the distance between mortals and immortals seemed to stretch to an almost infinite degree of separation. "Of course, son" he said softly, a tendril of acceptance seeping in to his breaking voice.

"My sweet, sweet Gabriel, I am so sorry that this hurts you" Apollo said gently, as he kept hold of his lover in his soft, warm arms and began murmuring sweet nothings as he kissed and nibbled Gabriel's ear gently. Joshua turned to give his parents some privacy and looked at a sickened yet quieter Ahmed. "You okay?"

"No" he said honestly. "But I will be" and he too cuddled up to his lover and tried, for a few moments, to forget what he'd learned and to ignore the things his imagination was conjuring up about what the events of the following day would contain.

The temple, next morning . . .

After morning prayers a reluctant and still-angry Gabriel began the temple's evacuation. Aided by the security guards and the rest of the priesthood including the High-Priest-in-waiting, Ryan, the temple was completely emptied of mortals a full hour before the human couple were due to arrive. Joshua was sat in the security guard's chair at the front desk, watching, waiting and hoping that the events of the day wouldn't turn out as either of his fathers had predicted.

Fifteen minutes before the service was due to start the couple arrived. Both were tall and well muscled but a passing glance by the healing deity told him that neither them nor the baby were Spartan. They were alone, with no witnesses and were surprised when they arrived to find the door locked. Joshua went to open it and invited them in with a small smile that did nothing to hide his grief.

"Where is everyone?" one of the men asked.

"They've all gone out for an impromptu team-building day" Joshua replied. That was the story that had been told to all the staff. "They're on Hyde Park, there's no one here except for myself and my father."

The other man looked at Joshua curiously. "Your face is familiar" he said, "do I know you?"

"Does this help?" Joshua said, dropping the mortal shell and allowing his divine light to shine on the pair. "My lord" the speaker said, bowing, shaking slightly.

"What's going to happen with our baby's presentation?" the first man spoke again. Joshua looked at him for a long minute. "You're sure you want to present him to my father Apollo?" Joshua asked. Both men nodded. They smiled at each other and kissed, then kissed the baby and Joshua could feel the love they shared.

"We do" they said together.

Joshua sighed. "And you know what it involves?" he asked. They nodded again.

"And you know what'll happen in the rite?" he asked. "Yes, of course, lord Joshua, your father, High Priest Gabriel, explained in detail" they said earnestly.

"And you understand exactly what will happen when the prayers begin and you ask Apollo to identify the sons of Sparta present in the temple? And what you have to do if it is proven that the baby isn't Spartan?"

"Yes but we trust in Apollo" they said genuinely.

Joshua felt grieved and sickened. They were both true believers and he could tell that they were convinced that taking part in the rite would make their baby Spartan. "Dad! I've got to say something!" he said silently to his father.

"Whatever you say you cannot force them to change their minds, the ritual will still go ahead and they are fixed on this path. Nothing you could do or say will alter that fact but talk as you wish" Apollo replied and Joshua detected a faint hint of anticipatory pleasure in his father's words.

"Dad, just because you're going to get a full meal for the first time in ages, it doesn't give you licence to be pleased about it" he admonished silently. "A man will die today and to be the one to deliver his life to you is a terrible duty" he reminded his immortal father.

"I'm sorry son" Apollo replied contritely and his remorse at having to pursue this terrible path became apparent to the younger deity.

Joshua re-locked the front door and led the men into the deserted changing room. "Leave your clothes here" he said, then waited for them to undress. Once all three were naked he walked over to the desk where the public-use swords were issued and picked blades up, an ordinary full size one and the sword of confirmation. "Which one of you is to present the baby?" he asked.

"I am" one answered with apparent unshakable confidence. Joshua fastened the belt and the shoulder strap, then fitted the other sword to the second man, then led the family out to the altar. On the way he absorbed his clothes into his body and using thought alone obtained and donned his paired swords.

He stopped at the altar, then turned to face the pair. "Let me tell you something" he began. "Both my father and I know something that you're trying to hide. We know that all three of you are human" he said softly. "And though neither of you believe it will happen, we both know that should you go through with the rite your son will die and you will be in prison for murder and conspiracy to murder respectively. That's why the temple is deserted, so no one can be party to the crime you are about to commit" he said, almost whispered. "But we cannot stop you, neither me nor my father, we are unable to interfere with mortal free will. So for the last time, I ask you, do you want to present your baby to Apollo? Either turn and leave or lay him on the altar and prepare to say your goodbyes" Joshua said, openly weeping.

Both men trembled and looked sick. "You know?" one gasped. Joshua nodded.

"Yet you will not stop us if we choose to go ahead?" he asked.

"I cannot. To do so would rob you of your free will" Joshua said between his tears.

"Why are you so upset?" the other man asked.

"Because I don't want a baby to die this day, I don't want to have to watch you kill the child that I know you love dearly. But neither do I want this gruesome duty to land on any mortal priest and nor does my father Apollo so I am prepared to go through with the rite for his sake and yours should you request it."

One of the human couple looked at the other. "Ben, I can't do it" he gasped.

"Tony, we agreed, this would be our only chance" Ben argued back. "And what of Jamie? He deserves a good life, this will give him a great life."

"Ben, didn't you hear what Joshua's just said? If we go ahead then Jamie will have no life at all! I can't!" Tony wailed.

"What is it that makes you want to continue, Ben?" Joshua asked, addressing one of the humans by name for the first time. He looked at the god and started to weep. "Gay men have no life anymore!" He cried. "We're expected to bond with a Spartan and when we don't we're consigned to second place, second best. You guys are accepted so freely now, our only chance of living a respected life is if our son becomes Spartan. We would have a life once more rather than a lie!"

"My patience is growing thin" Joshua heard his father say. His voice had a hint of anger and frustration at the human's continued inability to truly understand what they were getting into. "Tell them either to offer or leave" he instructed.

"Apollo requires you to offer or leave" Joshua repeated the command to the men.

"Can't we have some time?" Tony begged. Joshua felt his father's irritation. "You don't want to make my father angry. Offer now or leave now. The time for debate is over" he said softly. He hated having to give this ultimatum for it was against his nature, though he had to respect the necessity. Though he had the limitless compassion and care as dictated by his role as a god of love and healing, his father Apollo was a god of war and death. Though Apollo was able as much or more than a mortal man to love and show compassion he was still quick to anger and was still a deity that fed on the deaths given to him and taken in his name. And today Joshua was at the temple in his capacity as his father's priest.

Tony turned away, weeping, though he didn't leave the room. He'd been the one with the plain sword and it was Ben with the sword of presentation. Ben looked at Joshua. "I still believe" he said softly and to Joshua's horror he laid the baby down on the obsidian slab. Joshua's heart felt like stone as he began the rite.

He skipped most of it, knowing that the men weren't Spartan, knowing that they had no right to say the prayers, knowing it would be fruitless for them to pray to deities that would not hear their words. "You claim this boy to be a son of Sparta" Joshua confirmed and Ben said, "yes, I do."

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

"Yes I do" Ben said again.

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

Ben's hands were trembling and his tears flowed freely as he said "yes I do."

His hands had frozen stiff. "Draw the sword, turn it and point it at your baby's heart" Joshua instructed in a quiet but stern voice. Ben remained frozen. Joshua, feeling his father's frustration, repeated the command. "Draw the sword, now, turn it around and point it at Jamie" he whispered. Ben finally began to move and with a hesitant motion the sword was slowly brought to the correct place, above the tiny human baby who was apparently destined to die.

"Mighty Apollo" Joshua whispered, "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."

As he expected, his own filaments came out. Even though he was divine the body he wore was a Spartan one. But of course nothing happened to either the baby or to the man with the sword.

"He is not Spartan. He must be sacrificed" Joshua said, his hands going to his twin swords.

Ben froze. "This isn't meant to be like this. Come on, do something" he whispered.

"I cannot. The child must die for you have claimed Spartan blood falsely" Joshua replied, trying to keep his voice level, trying not to show his tears, his anguish. In his head he felt Apollo's silent anticipation as the death that would feed him came closer.

Ben twitched and seemed to be trying to move the sword. Long minutes passed as he stood there, sweating, watching for something that wouldn't happen. Joshua's own filaments writhed obviously against his perfect skin, as if taunting the human man. In the end Ben collapsed to his knees. "I cannot" he cried.

Joshua drew his twin swords with a hiss of cold steel. Ben started to tremble. "You know you've left me no choice?" Joshua asked Ben. He nodded. "I'm sorry" he whispered. "My life is forfeit. Do it" he breathed, then closed his eyes.

"For you, father" Joshua breathed and with a fluid motion only possessed by someone of divine strength he cut the man down. Human blood flowed as he died by Joshua's hand and the young deity crumpled under the grief and the sorrow of having to take the man's life as he had.

In contrast to his own pain Joshua felt his father's satisfaction as he feasted on the meal he had been given. Apollo celebrated the death but Joshua couldn't stomach his father's happiness and contentment and let his own extreme distaste show. He felt his father's apology, not in words but rather in how the older deity purposely distanced himself and his thoughts from those of his tortured son.

"No!" Tony wailed from the back of the room, running over, staring incredulously at the pool of blood and at his former lover's lifeless form. He looked at Joshua with unveiled hatred. "How could you?" he demanded.

"Ben understood. He was willing, in the end" Joshua managed to speak. "And look" he said, a brief smile flickering through his pain. Emerging from the human baby's belly button was a tiny, white feathery strand. Joshua leaned over and pinched it and the child let out a piercing shriek. "Let us welcome Jamie Apolloson as a true son of Sparta" he said gently, his eyes meeting Tony's.

He got to his feet, still covered in the man's blood. "Pick your son off the altar, I don't want to get him messy" Joshua instructed and with trembling hands Tony did as he was bid. He cradled the child, then looked at the bloody deity and the lifeless corpse. He turned away and began to retch, bringing back whatever he'd eaten over the last few hours. Luckily he kept tight hold of the child and directed his vomit to the side so the child remained clean, though he continued to scream because of the shock of pain through the tiny, brand-new filaments.

"Be careful of the child's filaments, they'll still be out for another few minutes and they're causing him agony" Joshua instructed, seeing that the human man was pressing the baby's torso against his own, crushing the delicate strands. "O god, I'm sorry" Tony managed to gasp. He held the child more carefully, wiping his mouth against the back of his hand and stepping away from the mess he'd made. "What now?" he asked in a hissed whisper.

"I call the police and confess to murder" Joshua said, equally sickened. "Come on, let's leave" he said. With a single thought he shed all the blood into a puddle on the floor and, freshly clean, led Tony and the shrieking baby back to the changing rooms. Tony dressed the child carefully, watching for a few minutes until the filaments finally retreated before fastening the nappy and buttoning the baby's vest back up and fixing his jumper, shorts and bootees. Joshua took the child into his arms whilst the man dressed, then the three went to the security desk.

Joshua used the number that had been provided by the metropolitan police many years previously so that the security guards could report people, usually thieves or sex offenders, who had tried and failed to get into the temple under false pretences. But this call was a lot more serious and complex than any that had been put through before. "I'm calling from Apollo's temple" he began in a quiet voice.

"Oh, hello, I don't recognise you, are you new on security?" the blonde-haired lady asked cheerfully from the screen. She didn't give Joshua the chance to reply before continuing, "what have you got for us this time?"

"Murder" Joshua said shortly. There was silence and a shocked expression. "Erm, excuse me?" the lady asked after an age.

"I'm not security, I'm Joshua, deity of love and healing and priest of my father Apollo and I'm calling because I have just sacrificed a person, a human, in the temple. His corpse is lying at the altar. I'm calling to confess to murder" he explained in a slow voice, ensuring the woman understood.

"O god" she breathed, then continued, "I didn't mean you, I just mean, I don't know what the fuck I mean, what the blazes do we do?" she gasped, turning white as the importance of the call became clear.

"I don't know, that's why I'm calling you" Joshua replied to the rhetorical question.

"Okay, I guess we treat this like a normal murder, okay" she muttered to herself, "okay, Joshua, please don't leave the temple, keep any witnesses with you and seal off the scene. Officers will be with you shortly."

"There's only one adult witness and one small baby. The temple is otherwise deserted as we knew this was a possibility. And as for not leaving the temple, I'm omnipresent, I'm currently in more than two hundred different locations simultaneously but you will find at least one of my distinct forms in the temple waiting for you."

"Oh, erm, yes, of course" the lady stuttered. "I'm going to have to go, sorry" she said, then disconnected before Joshua could say any more.

Apollo kept his distance whilst his son dealt with the authorities, though that wasn't all Joshua was doing. He had met up with Tina and Ahmed in the park and gone with them to the London Joshusite temple to have to have some privacy, both to reassure them and ground himself. He also met his father Gabriel at the same park and cradled the mortal man as he cried, explaining gently exactly what had happened.

He went with the forensic technicians to explain the series of the events that had occurred that morning at the temple and to enable them to cross into the consecrated circle, since no other priests were permitted across the police lines. And, much to the disconcertion of the detectives, he'd also stayed in the foyer talking to them.

When the police had come to talk to him, one began with a simple question. "You murdered a man?" he asked.

"Yes" Joshua replied softly.

"And you have witnesses?" the police officer continued.

"Yes, my father Apollo, of course, the baby Jamie and his adoptive dad, Tony" Joshua confirmed.

"And they'll all testify that it was you that killed a Mr," the police officer paused, "Ben Haynes?"

"Yes" Joshua said solemnly. It was at that point that a tech came into the foyer saying that something was preventing them from crossing over onto the consecrated marble and calmly Joshua split into two distinct forms and said in stereo, "I'll take you."

"Holy fuck, how the hell do we arrest you?" the detective breathed, starting to shake.

"Like you would anyone else, I guess" Joshua said calmly. "Only, please don't expect me to only be in gaol, I have a lot of other things to do besides time in prison."

"How many copies of yourself can you make?" another officer asked.

"I've not tested it but my father Apollo once had over four thousand distinct forms."

"And how many have you got at the moment?" the detective wondered.

"Two hundred and Seventy seven" Joshua told the man honestly.

"If we asked you not to split into different copies, would you comply?" Joshua shook his head and looked at the man who asked with an apologetic expression.

"I am not like you" he said, purposely beginning to talk chorally and allowing himself to glow with a soft golden light. The crowd of police officers and detectives stopped and stared at him as he spoke.

"You cannot constrain me, just as you cannot constrain my holy father Apollo" he stated. "The life I took was offered and taken as food and sustenance. My father Apollo feeds on death and I feed on love and sex. I fed my father with this life just as I currently feed myself with my lover-priests, with my worshippers and with those who have turned to me throughout the world for healing. This is a crime by mortal standards only and as much as my father Gabriel would have me deny it I am above and beyond mortal laws. I am sorry" he finished as a crystal tear dripped down his beautiful face.

"So you expect us to let you get away with murder?" a woman's voice sounded out angrily from the crowd.

"Yes" Joshua replied simply. There was nothing anyone could say to that.

The temple was closed for two full days. Those people whose homes were on the premises were put up in hotels. When it did reopen, those who came were partly the most devout worshippers of Joshua, Apollo or both who came to show their support for their gods, or were sick-minded rubberneckers who wanted to get a glimpse of the scene of the crime. The whole thing had made the news globally and had somewhat harmed both Apolline and Joshusite faiths but not so much that the deities suffered from lack of sustenance. There were still enough people offering sex to one and sacrifice to the other that they encountered no lasting effects from the terrible events in the London temple.

It was harder on Gabriel, Tina and Ahmed. They hadn't asked to love deities, hadn't asked to be forced to be party to murder, yet the truth was clear -- Apollo had fed on a man's life and fed well -- well enough that the baby Jamie Apolloson was made Spartan. Tony had been arrested for conspiracy to murder and Jamie had been put back into foster care, currently looked after by a half-amazon, half-human couple.

Joshua, too, struggled. His fathers had respected his need for distance and hadn't spoken to him in any great depth for a few days. Apollo had comforted Gabriel and assured him of the enduring love he felt and this helped the mortal man begin to trust his immortal partner again. But it took more than physical comfort to regain the closeness he'd had with his son.

"Hey dad" Joshua directed his thoughts to the disembodied consciousness that orbited the planet as the blue and green ball slowly turned beneath them. He hadn't been sure if they should speak but finally knew he couldn't avoid it any longer.

"Little one" Apollo replied with genuine fatherly affection in his voice as he was reminded of the nickname he had when he was a mortal child.

"What you doing up here?" Joshua asked gently.

"Just watching. Thinking." Apollo answered. "Worrying" he finally admitted after Joshua let it be known that he didn't believe his father's words.

"What about, dad Apollo?" Joshua asked.

"Can you ever forgive me, son?" Apollo breathed. "I never wanted to hurt you, or your dad Gabriel or the rest of the family who loves us. I was blind and didn't see how I would hurt you all. I'm sorry" he said and his grief was palpable.

"I love you, dad so yes, I can forgive you" Joshua replied simply.

"I love you too son" Apollo returned and the pair allowed their consciousnesses to intertwine as they flew above the world they called home.