#phan asks

She won't meet him for at least another month, but the first time Kath hears of this boy named Dan it's through Phil's bedroom wall.

Nothing too naughty - they've had that discussion once before, and if Kath has her way about it they never will again. This is just a laugh she hears, high and giggling, met with the same sound coming from Phil's mouth.

"I literally can't," he's saying, protesting about something. "Phil, I can't."

"Sure you can," Phil says. "It's so easy. Just like - book the tickets! Presto. Abracabra. What's - what's another magic word?"

"Ugh, I dunno, I'm not a fucking magician." The sarcasm is laid on thick, but an obvious cover.

Kath shifts and the basket of clothes she's holding bangs against the wall.

She hears a muffled whisper next, and then Phil saying, "Mum?"

"Not me, dear," Kath says. "Just your average serial killer out for a little hunt."

"Mum-" Phil whines.

"Just leaving your wash basket by the door," she calls out. "You live to see another day!”

The voices stay down at a whisper and she realizes that there won't be any more eavesdropping to be had for now, so she goes about her day.

-

The first time she sees Dan's face, it's because she walks into Phil's room and finds him at his computer.

"Oh, are you Skying?" Kath asks, trying to get a good look while Phil wiggles in front of the screen like he's hiding something salacious.

"Skyping," Phil corrects her. "Mum, it's called Skype."

"Well, that's a silly name. Skying makes more sense. You're sending - oh, you know - those little internet bits through the skies."

"She has a point, actually," Dan says.

"I like this one," Kath says immediately.

She sees how pink Phil's face goes. Interesting. She files it away. Phil doesn't really react like that when she walks in to find him on a video call with Ian - not even with Stephen, or any of the other strangely delightful people he's met on the internet.

Phil moves finally to let Kath see. The boy there is a pixelated picture of sweetness, smiling a proper and polite smile. He has a dimple on one cheek and from the way Phil is looking dopily at the screen, she doesn't have to even file anything else away. She's pretty sure she can close the case on this one.

"Okay, you saw him," Phil says. "Now go away!"

"So rude to your mum..." She tsks. "And I was just coming to tell you that dinner will be ready in ten minutes."

"Wow, Phil," Dan says. "You're being rude to your mum who just slaved away making you a hot meal? I'm learning so much about you."

Kath laughs. "Oh, I like this one."

"Great, thanks, now go!" He pretends to shove at her. She musses his hair up and walks out as he frantically tries to fix it.

"Mums always love me," she hears Dan say as she shuts the door behind her.

-

Two days later, Phil tells her that Dan's got train tickets to come visit. He looks scared and excited and she'd give him a great big hug if she didn't think that might make him feel bashful.

She's learned through the perilous journey of raising two sons into almost-adulthood that sometimes you have to let them think they're not quite as transparent as they really are.

"Your dad and I might not be home," Kath says, realizing she can't quite remember what weekends away they have planned.

"Oh, really? Oh no." Phil lies, badly.

Kath realizes that their absence may have been the plan all along.

"Well, if we're not," she says. "You'll just have to have him back around. You know, if you get on."

--

She's not home when Phil brings Dan over, but she does get to witness the aftermath.

It's less young love and more young anxiety, with his phone out every three seconds. He even has the volume full up - which Nigel always hates. she ends up refereeing a session of snippy words and attitude between the two of them.

When Nigel goes off to the toilet, she leans in to Phil and says, "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah," Phil answers. He frowns down at his phone. There's some sort of website up on it. Kath has never seen it before. Phil is glaring as though it just insulted his mother. (At least, Kath hopes that's the level to which he'd glare in that specific situation.) "He's just... not answering my texts."

"Oh, don't borrow worries like that," Kath tells him gently. "He might just be out with another friend."

The stormcloud of Phil darkens. "He is."

"Oh." Kath tries to curb her amusement. "I see."

"He's - allowed. To have other... friends. He said they're playing Mario Kart. But." Phil looks at her again, nervous the way he always is when they skirt too close to this topic.

She hopes that by this point, he understands that he's allowed to bring home boys for more than just a video game session. They've had their moments of imperfect parenting just like any other, but she hopes - she hopes they've made up for it in other ways.

"Well," Kath says, reaching up to smooth out Phil's hair. Grudgingly she has to admit the black has grown on her, though she'll always tell him she likes the natural color best. "Maybe you best just have him back around, so he doesn't go thinking some other boy is better to play Mario Kart with. I'll pay for the tickets."

"Mum." Phil rolls his eyes again immediately. He's growing older, capable in ways she sometimes wondered if he ever would be. But he's only twenty-two, she still sees that child inside of him.

Despite the protests, the child looks happy. Her son looks happy.

She squishes him into a hug that he has no say at all in.

--

She won't meet Dan for another few days.

But when she does, she'll look at the way Phil looks at him, and she'll know with some buried-deep sixth sense, or maybe just a mother's intuition

Somehow, she'll know, and she'll smile and take Dan into a warm hug. She'll say hello, and ask him how the train journey was, and offer him a cup of tea.

Dan will be charming and nervous and talk a bit too loudly. He's unable to sit still, and at one point Phil touches his knee. Kath sees the way Phil jerks his hand away, and the way Dan turns to stare at him with a furrowed brow.