Author's notes: I've always loved the character of Daryl and always wanted to write about him. Then one day I started thinking that the best way to teach is by example, and the result is this story.

Simon Banks pushed his son into his office and pointed to a chair. "Sit!" he ordered.

Daryl circled the chair sullenly and said, "I'll stand."

"Don't play with me, Daryl," Simon warned.

Dary sighed, slumped into the chair, and crossed his arms across his chest. "Look, I don't know why you're buggin," he said, "it's no big deal."

Simon shook his head. He hated to see his son, or any upper class black kid, talk and act like a hood rat, but one battle at a time. "I'd call spraying 'faggot' and 'cocksucker' on someone's locker a big deal," he said tightly.

Daryl rolled his eyes. "Oh, please! All the other boys' dads were proud."

Simon leaned forward. "I am not all the other boy's dads," he said clearly. "I'm a cop, and what's more, I'm a human being. What the hell possessed you to do something like that?"

The teenager shrugged. "We saw Ben kissing another guy after the game last week. It ruded us out."

"So you decided to spray his locker? Daryl, why? That's so unlike you."

"What's the big deal, Dad?" Daryl asked. "It's not like we beat him up or anything. We wouldn't do that."

"But what gave you the right?" Simon wanted to know. "What gives you the right to judge Ben?"

"He's queer!" Daryl exploded. "he does things with other boys. Then he showers with us, undresses with us...man, it's just wack."

Simon regarded his son calmly. "Has he ever done anything to you?"

"No, but-"

"But nothing," Simon interrupted. "He's got a right to do whatever he wants as long as it doesn't hurt anyone else." Daryl looked unconvinced, so Simon went on. "Remember how you felt when those boys called you a nigger last year?"

Daryl looked uncomfortable. "That's different."

"How?" Simon challenged.

"Because black people-" Daryl thought for a moment. "Because faggots hit on little boys. They wear dresses and makeup and swish their asses and stuff like that."

"Just like niggers are lazy? Sell drugs? Get into gang fights? Lay around smoking weed and collecting welfare?" Simon asked. "That's what some people think, but is it right? We know it's not; it's part of the stupid stereotypes one group lays on another. So, why would you prejudge someone else?"

Daryl examined his sneakers. "I don't know. I don't really know any gay people."

"You know Jim and Blair," Simon said quietly.

Daryl's head shot up. "What?!" he choked. "Jim and Blair? You're lying!"

Simon shook his head. "They've been in a serious relationship for over a year now."

Daryl looked shellshocked. "They told you? They really came up to you and-"

"They trusted me, Daryl. I'm their friend, and they trusted me not to judge them or think any less of them because they love each other."

Daryl's head was spinning. Jim and Blair were...together? "But they're just regular guys," he mused. "They watch basketball and drink beer and-" Something occured to him, and he stared at his father. "But you let me spend the night at the loft all the time, and last time we went camping I slept next to Blair."

"And did anything happen?"

"Of course not!" Daryl snapped, offended for Blair as much as for himself. "Blair would never do anything to me! Neither would Jim!"

"Why not?"

"Because-" he paused, thinking.

"Because why?" Simon prompted.

"Because they're my friends," Daryl finished quietly. He stared at his shoes again.

"They're our friends," the captain corrected. "They've risked their lives for us, Daryl, and they'd do it again."

"Do the other guys know?" Daryl asked. "Joel, Rafe, Brown, those guys?"

Simon nodded. "They know. And they accept Jim and Blair for who they are, and they'd back them against anyone who didn't. That's what being a real man is all about, not spray paint and macho bullshit." Simon's voice softened. "Did you know Blair had his office vandalized last month by a campus skinhead group? Or that they've had to change their phone number because of threatening calls?"

Daryl shook his head mutely.

"But they keep loving each other and refuse to back down even though most of society is against them. That's the definition of courage, daryl." Simon stood up and laid a hand on his son's shoulder. "I'm going to get us a sandwich. Why don't you sit here and think about what we just talked about?" He left his son to his thoughts.

After his father left, daryl sat, silent and motionless, contemplating what he'd just been told. Jim and Blair were gay. Somehow, it didn't sound as disgusting as it always had before, because he'd known them as people and friends before he'd known them as gay.

Blair often helped him with his homework assignments, explaining them so well that even the hardest made sense. Blair played video games with him and was always willing to listen when he had a problem. Blair had come looking for Daryl and his dad when they were stranded in Peru, even though the anthropologist had no military training.

Jim had taught Daryl martial arts after a bigger boy had bloodied his nose. Jim gave Daryl advice on girls and other things he couldn't ask his father about. Jim was one of the toughest, coolest men Daryl knew.

Daryl watched the interaction between Jim and Blair and the rest of the cops. Brown slung an arm around Jim's shoulders. Rafe leaned his head close to Blair's to see what the anthropologist was pointing at. Joel perched on Jim's desk and laughed at something the big cop was saying. It was clear that they accepted the partners and considered them no less part of the team.

Daryl was suddenly very ashamed of himself. He'd tagged Ben's locker, but if he knew who'd vandalized Blair's office or made those phone calls, he's kick that person's ass for messing with his friends. He was surprised to find he felt protective, not just of Jim and Blair, but of the boy he'd hurt with his careless prejudice.

He decided he would make it up to Ben tomorrow, but there was something he had to do right now.

"Hey, Daryl!" Blair called, bubbly and friendly as always. "I didn't see you come in."

Jim looked up and grinned. "Hey, are we still on for fishing next weekend?"

*I love you guys, and it doesn't matter to me who you sleep with* Daryl wanted to say, but he couldn't find the right words; instead, he wrapped one arm around Jim's shoulder and one around Blair's and hugged unselfconsciously.

The partners shot each other puzzled glances, but hugged back enthusiastically.

Simon watched from the doorway, proud of his son and the choice he'd made. He knew he couldn't save the world from hatred, but he was satisfied that he'd done his part to make sure it wasn't passed along to the next generation

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