His wife was rocking their son on the front porch when Tony returned home from running errands. It was a comfortably warm day, the kind Tony and Michelle craved for the simple pleasure of being able to take their baby out of the house for a little while to enjoy the fresh air and see the world. His heart soared at the sound of little Anthony's giggles as he climbed the steps to find Michelle lightly tickling the baby's belly and bringing her face to his for Eskimo kisses.

She smiled warmly when she noticed Tony and looked up. "Hi, honey. Find everything at the store?"

"Think so." He leaned down to kiss her head and then Anthony's and sat down next to them on the bench. "What's my boy been doing with his mom while I was gone?"

Michelle shifted the little person in question to a sitting position on her lap and directed her attention at him. "What have we been doing, buddy?" She spoke in the soft, light-hearted tone reserved only for her son. "Let's see... We had a little nap, and then we were hungry again so we had a feeding, and then there was some spitting up going on so we had to change... Should we show Daddy your new outfit?"

She lifted and turned him to face Tony, grinning as her husband realized what their five-month-old was now dressed in.

Tony instantly gaped. "No... Is that..?"

"Mhmm." She smiled as Anthony reached his little hands out toward Tony and transferred the little boy to his father's arms.

It was a royal blue, Chicago Cubs onesie with the team's logo on the right side of the chest and buttons down the front. It was exactly the sort of thing Tony never would've hesitated to buy for Anthony had he ever come across it, which clearly he hadn't.

"Look at you," he gushed, grinning hugely as he continued gawking at the little outfit. He fondled the soft fabric with his fingertips and looked at Michelle, eyes dancing wildly. "Where did you find this?"

She chuckled softly. "I actually saw it before he was born. I knew it would be a while before he'd be big enough to wear it, but... I mean, it had you written all over it; I had to get it. So I had it hidden away to surprise you later on and forgot all about it."

A small laugh conveyed Tony's amusement as he held little Anthony to his chest and leaned over to kiss Michelle. "I love you."

She bit her lip endearingly, eyes twinkling. "So you like the surprise?"

"I love the surprise." He bounced their miniature Cubs fan gently up and down and kissed his soft cheek. "Now he just needs to see a game."

Michelle appeared to consider the notion for a moment. "Well, sweetheart, a trip to Chicago isa little overdue. I mean, your parents still haven't seen him."

Tony nodded. "You know, I've been thinking the same thing," he admitted with a pensive scratch of his right cheek. "I'll see what next month looks like in terms of meetings and we'll work something out, a'right?"

"There's gotta be a week somewhere that'll work," Michelle agreed. "I think it's about time you met your Almeida grandparents, right, Anth?"

Anthony—now perched on Tony's leg and showing no considerable interest in meeting his grandparents—had his hand clenched around his mother's littlest finger, struggling to bring it to his mouth and eliciting a giggle from Michelle when he finally nibbled on it.

Tony reached for the blanket Michelle had wrapped the baby in earlier and used it to wipe the drool from her hand and Anthony's chin. "Someone's hungry again."

"Someone's always hungry lately." She brushed her crooked index finger across their son's fuzzy cheek and lovingly patted his pudgy little thigh.

"Then it's a good thing his dad brought him his food." Moving a hand from around Anthony's waist, Tony lifted the grocery store bag off the floor in front of him and dropped it in Michelle's lap. "It should be the right kind."

Michelle fished the container from the bag and held it up for examination. Much to her satisfaction, it was the exact brand of baby rice cereal she had sent him out for. She noticed the package of soft-edged feeding spoons and pulled them out as well, raising her eyebrows in his direction. "I'm impressed."

Tony shrugged nonchalantly. "How 'bout the rest of the stuff?"

Michelle turned back to the bag while Anthony eyed its contents curiously, trying to wriggle out of Tony's grasp to take a closer look. She took out the baby shampoo, soap and lotion they had been nearly out of and gave her husband a smile of approval, pecking his scruffy cheek affectionately. "You did great, sweetheart."

"Don't forget this," he indicated, pointing out the last essential item at the bottom of the bag.

"Oh, perfect. He needed a new one." She picked up the fine-toothed comb in one hand as her fingers sifted through their son's short, downy hair with the other. "Look how thick this boy's hair is already." She sighed discontentedly. "Looks like he'll have hair like his mommy."

"Ah, that wouldn't be so bad," Tony drawled, tucking a loose curl Anthony had been tugging on behind her ear. "I love your hair."

"I appreciate that, sweetheart, but you're not the one who has to deal with it every day." She chuckled humorlessly. "He'll resent me for it, I promise you."

At that moment Anthony whimpered, usually an early sign of the wailing that had a way of interrupting long lapses of quiet indefinitely. Tony immediately lifted him into his arms and began bouncing him again, patting his back soothingly. "Hey, it's a'right, buddy. We'll get ya some food in a minute."

Michelle got up with the bag in hand and moved toward the door. "Now might not be the best time to introduce him to this if he's already fussy..."

But the hungry baby's whining quickly subsided as a result of his father's calming methods, and Tony stood up to carry their boy into the house. "Nah, look. He's fine. Are we sure he's ready, though?"

Michelle was at the kitchen counter twisting the lid off the container and spooning a small amount of its contents into a bowl. "He's double his birth weight now and can hold his head up. He probably would've been ready a month ago, sweetheart." She poured a modest amount of water into the bowl and resealed the cereal container. "Plus, he wanted my Cheerios this morning," she added, grinning.

She crossed the room and pulled two chairs from the table up to where Tony had strapped a now calm Anthony into his highchair, his little legs swinging back and forth. She dipped the little spoon into the dish and scooped up an infant-sized mouthful, holding it up to him tentatively.

"Want me to try first?" Tony offered, sensing her hesitation.

After a beat she nodded, passing him the spoon. Her husband had always been the more confident half of the parental duo, Michelle naturally being the more cautious of the two. Occasionally she would have a moment where she was simply unsure of herself, and she'd come to accept that. Anthony was, after all, their firstborn. It was only natural to waver every now and then.

Tony slowly brought the plastic spoon up to their little boy's lips. "Hey, Anth," he coaxed. "C'mon, buddy, open up."

Anthony squirmed and angled his head away, clearly not impressed with the unfamiliar substance his father was offering him. "He doesn't want it, Michelle."

She laughed softly, placing her hand on her husband's leg. "That's normal, honey. Keep trying."

He wiggled the spoon in front of Anthony's uncooperative little mouth and sighed when the baby pursed his lips together in a miniature scowl. "He's so stubborn."

A smirk made its way across Michelle's face at his mention of the all-too-familiar characteristic. "I wonder where he got that from."

"Hmm, you're funny." His tone was colored equally with sarcasm and the playful banter that had become second nature to them. "But I think this smart boy of ours has connected that when he's hungry," he handed the spoon back to her, "you're the one he wants."

"He has, hasn't he?" Michelle conceded with an understanding smile at Tony. She extended the still untouched spoonful of cereal back to their difficult little Almeida. "When he's older I have a feeling he'll change his mind."

Tony snorted. Even back when their relationship first began, Michelle had never had a problem making jabs at her own lack of culinary skills.

"Come on, sweetie," she pleaded with their son. "Look what Mommy's got. You want some? Yeah?" For a moment it looked like he might give in, but he instead tried to push the spoon away with clenched fists, scrunching up his face and grunting in frustration. "No, sweetheart, come on. Come on, Anthony." She felt her husband snicker beside her when she added, "You wanna grow big and strong like your daddy, don't you?"

He continued to resist but eventually surrendered to his mother's persistent attempts at persuasion, allowing a tiny bit of the semi-liquid into his mouth. His little eyebrows furrowed and he banged his hands against the highchair tray excitedly at his first taste of food.

"There you go, baby," Michelle praised, beaming at Tony as his eyes lit up and then back at Anthony. "What a good boy you are."

Tony wiped some residual cereal off his son's chin with a cloth. "Whadaya think, bud?"

The baby gurgled in response and Michelle was able to get a few more spoonfuls into him before calling it a day. "That's good for now," she decided, tweaking his little nose lightly and undoing the Velcro on his bib. "Let's go get you cleaned up, little one."

Lifting Anthony out of the chair and gathering him up in his arms, Tony followed Michelle to their bathroom. She set the little plastic baby bath on the counter and filled it with a few inches of warm water before grabbing a washcloth from the cabinet. Michelle gently washed their baby's face, using the corner of the washcloth to wipe his eyes, nose and then ears, as Tony worked at the buttons of his outfit. Once he had been undressed and carefully dipped in the tub, they took turns cleansing his arms, legs, back and belly, making sure to scrub in all his little creases. Michelle shampooed his soft hair, careful to keep the suds out of his eyes, while Tony cleaned in between his son's tiny fingers and toes.

While bath time held potential of being an unpleasant experience for some babies and parents, Anthony had always found enjoyment in kicking and splashing about, erupting into fits of giggles when one or both of his parents got soaked. This time was no different, and Tony and Michelle were well saturated by the time they had their son rinsed off and bundled up in a hooded towel.

"There you go, honey," Michelle cooed and kissed his forehead, holding him close. "Doesn't that feel better?"

In a few minutes he was dry and Michelle, now wearing the dry t-shirt her husband had grabbed for her, was smoothing baby lotion over Anthony's delicate skin. After he was dressed she wrapped a warm blanket around his tiny body and combed lightly through his hair, taking in his sweet, clean baby smell.

She took Anthony to his room while Tony drained the tub and cleaned up the puddles their baby's splashing had created all over the counter and floor. She padded down the hall, pausing for a moment in the doorway, admiring the nursery. The walls were a pale yellow; though they had found out early on that they were expecting a boy, they agreed to stay fairly gender-neutral in decorating the room, keeping in mind the possibility of being blessed with a little girl somewhere down the road. She and Tony had spent hours slaving over those walls while she was pregnant.

"Why don't you take a break, babe? I can finish the first coat."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, yeah, I've got it," Tony insisted. "How's your back?"

She put down her paint roller and stretched a little. "I might need a massage later."

He grinned smugly, reveling in the feeling of being needed. Of being needed by them. "I can do that for ya."

She sauntered over to him, pecking him lightly on the mouth. "Thanks. I owe you."

"Anything for the woman having my baby," he vowed dutifully, a hint of teasing in his voice.

"Mmm, I am, aren't I?" she recalled with a giggle, encircling her arms around his neck. "So I guess

you owe me."

A sly grin graced his perfect face, his finger tracing the neckline of her t-shirt as his other hand moved to the small of her back, holding her against him. "I'll make it up to you somehow."

He had, of course, but not before the room had been haphazardly splattered after she accidentally dripped paint on him and he retaliated, provoking an all-out paint war.

"Tony!" she squealed. "That was an accident!"

They had spent the next several hours in the shower ridding each other of the obstinate custard pigment and making wet, beautiful love, pure joy for what the future held encompassing them as they abandoned the day's project on crisp, navy bed sheets.

Michelle smiled fondly at the memory as she settled into the rocking chair to nurse her sleepy boy before his nap. Warm baths always calmed him into a drowsy state, and his heavy eyelids stayed closed as he suckled languidly. She had just finished readjusting her shirt and was cradling him when Tony entered.

"Hey," he whispered. "Is he asleep?"

Michelle gazed down at their little one and nodded. "Almost."

He offered his hand and pulled his wife to her feet, gravitating to her side as she put the baby down in his crib. Tony stroked Anthony's little foot through his sleeper. "He's getting so big."

"And so fast. I can't believe it." She smiled proudly at their son, resting her head on the shoulder of his father. "It feels like we just brought him home."

"And yet I can hardly remember what we ever did without him."

Michelle hummed happily in response. Though she could think of a few activities involving protecting the country, setting off the sprinklers with her attempted cooking, and how they had gotten Anthony in the first place, she knew what he meant. The last several months had been so exclusively dedicated to keeping their new baby happy and healthy, it was hard to imagine their lives without his presence. He made each day brighter, and they were happier than they had ever been; it was almost inconceivable that there had ever been any bad blood between them. Wounds had long since healed, and they had successfully rebuilt their lives together outside of CTU.

Tony interrupted her thoughts. "What are you thinking about?"

"You," she answered honestly.

He smiled sheepishly. "You're not sick of me yet?"

"Never." She wrapped her arms around his waist and kissed his chest. "You're wonderful."

A shy grin graced Tony's face at the sentiment and he tightened his arms around his wife, mumbling into her hair. "Nah. Still making up for past mistakes, sweetheart."

Michelle stiffened and pulled away so she could see his face, concern displayed on her own as she searched his eyes. "Tony... You know I never think about any of that. It honestly feels like none of it ever happened now."

"I know. I just..."

She silenced his lips with her own before he could finish his thought, pulling him in for a few seconds of blissful incoherency. Their foreheads met when they parted, breathing heavily against each other's skin. "I don't think about it," she attested sincerely, meeting his eyes again. "If anything, I think of how stupid I was for leav—"

"Michelle, you had every right to—"

"I know I did," she cut him off, caressing his jaw with her forefinger but refusing to let him put everything that happened on himself. "That doesn't mean I should have. That doesn't mean it wasn't the biggest mistake of my life. I almost lost you, Tony." She smiled sadly. "That part I remember. But the divorce..." The word tasted like acid on her tongue and she shook her head, willing the sickening feeling it induced to fade. "It's like a blind spot. Like this ring's never left my finger."

She watched the lines in his forehead diminish and he nodded with new understanding, finally smiling when she mouthed the words, "let it go," with that pleading look in her eyes. He brought her left hand to his lips and kissed the aforementioned third finger, twirling the ring around it before slipping her hand in his own. "We did the best we could, right?"

"Yeah." She thought back on the moment from their previous era when it was him having to assure her of that, glowing as her gaze moved back to their son sleeping peacefully in front of them. They had come so far, and that sweet little boy was living, breathing proof. "We did."