Gwen had returned to New York the morning before.
Helen had prepared a lavish dinner, waiting for the couple to come home.
But Hawk never came back.
So… Gwen told a lie.
"What?"
"I missed the flight because I had diarrhea?"
As they drove toward the Stacy apartment with gifts in the backseat, Hawk glanced at Gwen, who sat in the passenger seat trying to hide her grin. "That's what you call a harmless little lie?"
Gwen looked up at him. "It's better than saying you broke a leg. Hey, guess what? At least you don't need a cast this time."
"I'd rather have a cast."
"I didn't say I'd nurse you this time."
"I'd still rather tell them I broke my leg at the airport than say I missed the flight because of diarrhea."
Hawk shook his head helplessly. "A cast just limits movement—but this? This kills my social life."
"Relax, no one will ever know," Gwen said with a teasing blink.
"That's not the point."
Hawk crossed his arms stubbornly. "When we get there, if they ask, tell them you were the one with the stomach problem. You just didn't want to admit it."
Gwen turned her head toward him with a sly look. "Even if I promise to wear that nurse outfit you bought?"
"…gulp."
Hawk swallowed hard and looked at her amused smile.
She winked. "It's a rare opportunity, you know."
"You're blackmailing me."
"Yes, Mr. Phoenix. I am."
"Ugh."
Hawk parked the car, glancing across the street at the apartment. Then he looked back at his fiancée, who was smiling sweetly. He closed his eyes for a second, and all he could see was Gwen in that pink nurse outfit. Taking a deep breath, he muttered, "Now I know why you refused to shower with me earlier."
Gwen grinned.
Hawk sighed. "Fine—but add one more."
"What?"
"A police uniform."
He fixed his gaze on her. "Add a police outfit, and I'll take the fall for this diarrhea story. Otherwise, deal's off."
He'd never wanted to hide who he was.
Hawk liked the grand, overwhelming approach—the kind that made even ancient vampires bow to him, like in the Molokai incident.
But Gwen preferred when he played the humble underdog.
If she wanted him to stay low-key, she needed to show sincerity.
One costume wasn't enough payment for public humiliation.
Two, at least.
Gwen looked momentarily surprised, then laughed and offered her hand. "Deal."
"Deal."
They shook hands. Hawk got out of the car, walking to the trunk while glancing back at her. "You know, if you'd pushed a bit more, I would've agreed to just one."
Gwen smiled sweetly. "Oh, I know. But my bottom line was three anyway. You bought three outfits, didn't you?"
Hawk froze mid-movement and looked at her, dumbfounded.
Gwen's grin widened.
Top floor of the apartment.
The door opened.
Helen stood there, smiling brightly as she saw Hawk holding two bags of gifts. She immediately pulled him into a hug.
"Oh, Hawk, happy New Year!"
"Happy New Year, Helen."
Hawk smiled back and, once inside, shook George's hand firmly. "Happy New Year, George."
The ever-serious patriarch gave a curt nod. "Happy New Year."
"Dad!"
Gwen hugged him next, her cheerful tone instantly melting his stern façade.
Hawk watched the scene, then leaned toward his future mother-in-law and whispered, "Honestly, I still think it's a miracle George didn't shoot me when he found out I was dating Gwen."
Helen chuckled. "Wrong. That is a miracle."
"…Agreed."
Hawk nodded seriously, glancing at the room. "Where are Howard and Simon?"
Helen's smile vanished. She huffed. "In their rooms. Doing homework. School starts tomorrow, and they still haven't finished."
Public schools rarely gave homework. Private elite schools, though—tons of it.
Hawk blinked. "You're kidding."
"Nope. They're scribbling like maniacs right now. I told them if they don't perform a miracle tonight, I'll perform one tomorrow morning."
She gave a dry laugh.
She truly didn't understand—how had she birthed Gwen, who had never caused trouble and always won scholarships… but then ended up with those two disasters for sons?
"Hawk."
"Yes?"
"When you and Gwen have kids someday, have daughters."
"Nope."
Hawk smiled. "We'll have both—three pairs. Gwen said we'll leave them all to you. She'll pay, you raise. You've got experience."
Helen's eyebrows rose. "Oh? Gwen said that?"
"Absolutely, Mrs. Stacy."
"Good."
Helen smiled brightly, then turned toward her daughter, who was chatting with George and showing pictures from Smallville. "Gwen."
Gwen turned. "Mom?"
"Come upstairs with me. We need to talk."
Still smiling, Helen took her daughter's hand and led her away.
Gwen glanced back at Hawk, confused.
Hawk just gave her a good luck look.
That's what you get for cutting my uniform count.
I can't punish you—but she can.
Hawk smiled to himself.
Then he realized something.
With Gwen and Helen gone, and the brothers shut in their rooms working on "miracles," the only ones left in the living room were him and George.
Suddenly, the air felt colder.
Hawk glanced at George.
George stared back.
Their eyes met.
Hawk looked away first, sat down, and cleared his throat. "Gwen said you were busy with a case over Christmas. That's done now, right?"
"Not yet."
Short. Firm.
"Oh."
Hawk nodded awkwardly.
He didn't often find himself alone with George. In fact, ninety-nine point nine percent of the time, Gwen was there.
The remaining point-one percent? That was right now.
Then—
"Ahem."
George cleared his throat. "Gwen said you missed your flight because of food poisoning. Feeling better? Did you see a doctor?"
Hawk's lip twitched.
"Just ate something bad. I'm fine now."
"You should still get checked."
"Uh…"
George continued seriously. "Did you get your physical this year?"
Hawk instinctively shook his head. Him? Get a check-up? Please.
Unless the planet exploded, nothing could kill him.
Actually—if the planet did explode, he'd still be fine.
"No."
"You should."
George reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card, handing it over. "Dr. Mary, New Amsterdam Hospital. A friend of mine. Go see her when you can."
Hawk accepted the card, nodding under George's stern gaze.
As he looked at it, something about George's expression bothered him.
That look—it was the kind a father gave when he didn't want his daughter to become a young widow.
Oh no.
Did George think he was one of those guys who looked strong but was actually weak… the kind who might not survive wedding night activities?
Was this a test?
A doctor friend to "check his stamina"?
Hawk's mouth twitched again.
Later, after dinner, as they drove back to Palm Street, silence filled the car.
Gwen sat with her arms crossed, pouting.
Hawk glanced at her. "I want the police outfit tonight."
"…"
She broke character immediately, laughing. "I'm mad, Hawk! Mom scolded me! When did I ever say I'd have six kids—three boys and three girls—and make her raise them?"
Hawk calmly pulled the card from his pocket and handed it to her.
"Dr. Mary's card."
Gwen looked at it. "Why are you giving me this?"
"George gave it to me."
"Dad? Why?"
"He wants me to go see her. For a check-up."
"Why would he—"
Gwen froze halfway through her sentence, realization dawning. Her lips pressed together as she looked at Hawk with a strange expression.
Their eyes met.
"So… Officer Stacy, is that acceptable?"
"…Acceptable."
Gwen nodded, barely holding back laughter.
Then she looked at him again. "So, when's your appointment?"
"Shut up."
"…."
(End of Chapter)
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