Simon was a donor.

This was something that no one from Task Forces knew, and even Price, with his insight, would never have guessed this fact from the Lieutenant's biography.

Simon did not know the names of people (or rather, women) whom he helped, and the clinic to which he donated his biomaterial did not give him any contacts in the future. Complete anonymity, that was the IVF clinic's policy.

And until some time, he wasn't interested in exactly how many women got pregnant with his help. Sometimes Simon himself forgot that he had voluntarily agreed to become a donor a couple of years ago.

For what reason? Maybe, despite his grumpy-ness, he still wanted to make someone happy. Moreover, he was more than capable of contributing to this.

Until a while ago, he even liked the anonymity policy. He didn't care how many women took advantage of his material and how many of them eventually brought a new life into the world. But recently, he still became curious.

It wasn't that hard to find you, not for someone working in a secret squad. He found your social media page, which had photos of you during pregnancy, as well as a recent photo of you holding a baby in your arms. No face or even eyes, just a head.

Blonde hair. Just like him.

It was amazing that you agreed to the meeting when Simon emailed you and explained who exactly he was. The donor with whom you gave birth to your son. The boy's biological father.

Father. The word that, Simon thought, he would never associate himself with.

And so, sitting in a cafe and nursing a cup of his coffee, he waited for you to appear at the appointed time.

So, you did, pushing a stroller with one hand, in which a little man was sitting. A boy, no more than a year old, with the same hazel eyes as Simon's.

Damn it, he had a son.