A/N: One shot only. I'm not continuing this.

Disclaimer: I do not own Flack or Adam. That's Jerry. Or CBS. I guess both..


Chills ran up her spine as she stepped into the ice arena, one child on her hip, the other running full speed ten feet ahead of her at the sight of his Uncle putting on ice skates. He'd talked excitedly all day about his first real hockey game, where people were going to come to watch him play. He didn't quite understand the concept of time, so instead of asking his mother how man hours he had, he asked her how many Diego's that was. And she had told him too many to count. He replied with a loud, dramatic sigh and climbed out of her bed to get ready for school. And now, too many Diego's to count later, his game was almost here.

"Hey!" She heard her brother laugh when the 7 year old's arms wrapped around the big burley man. "You ready for your game, big guy?"

"Yeah!" Kieran Flack nodded his head in excitement. "Mommy said she'll buy me a pretzel after words! I love pretzels. The soft kind. And she's gonna get me hot chocolate too!"

"I remember when Gamma Flack bought me my first pretzel and hot chocolate," Flack smiled, rubbing his nephew's head.

"You do?" Kieran asked, sitting on the metal bench beside his uncle. His mom let out a sigh as she finally approached him, and set her youngest son on the bench as well. "Babe," she sighed, grabbing Kieran's foot, to help him with his skates. "You can't run off like that, alright? Especially with Matthew. I can't carry him and run after you at the same time, sweet pea."

"Sorry, Mom," Kieran rolled his eyes, while his mother laced his skates. "Put my guards on my shins too!"

"M is for mother," Kylie started, ignoring the eye rolls she got from both Kieran and Don.

"Not maid," they both mocked at the same time.

"What's the magic word, you brat," Kylie said, tying his laces.

"Mommy, will you please put my shin guards on?" Kieran sighed.

"Yes, sir, I will," Kylie said, grabbing his shin guards from the bag Flack had brought. Kylie would normally take care of her son's hockey things. But Flack thought it was easier to carry everything in one bag. That way his baby sister had one less thing to worry about. And hockey equipment wasn't light. Carrying a baby and a 7 year old's hockey shit wasn't something she was too keen on doing.

When she finished helping Kieran, he stood up and giggled when he wobbled on his ice skates, before he hurried onto the ice to play with some of his teammates. "He better not lose any of his teeth," Kylie said, turning towards Flack. "Or I'll kill you."

"Come on," Flack rolled his eyes. "Fighting doesn't begin until they're 14. And that's what dentists are for."

"Uh-huh," Kylie rolled her eyes, grabbing her youngest son from the floor and setting him back on her hip. "I'm gonna get him a water from the stand. You want anything?"

"I'm good for now," Flack promised, standing up. "Gotta go coach these little monsters. Since no one else would."

"You know if he was here, he'd be doing it," Kylie said referring to her husband, who had unfortunately passed away before he found out his wife was pregnant with their second child.

"I know, Kales," Flack smiled, kissing her forehead, before stepping into the ice rink.


He let out a loud groan when he realized she was going to make him go to her son's stupid hockey game. He didn't like sports and he didn't like her, let alone her bratty kid. He didn't like any children, except his daughter. And the only reason he liked her was because she was mature for her age. That and she was a spitting image of him. From the freckles on her nose to the auburn waves, and the blue eyes, to the way she ate chopped up bananas with her cereal, and drank orange juice for breakfast.

"Adam," she said his name, without any love in it. Just pure order. She ordered him around, told him not to wear his band shirts, or as she said "those ugly flannels." But he did what she told him. Because he didn't want to be alone for the rest of his life. And he didn't want his little girl to grow up not having a woman to talk to. Because he sure as hell wasn't going to have the puberty or sex talk with her.

"Carly," Adam rolled his eyes, pulling his daughter into his lap. The little girl let out a shriek of laughter when her Daddy pulled her from one row of bleachers, into his lap, and rubbed his beard against her cheek.

"Go get me a Coke, please."

"Like you need it," he mumbled, standing up, pulling a wad of cash from his front pocket. His daughter jumped from the bleachers.

"Daddy, can I have a snicker bar?" Rebecca Ross, asked, twirling her auburn hair, slowly following Adam down the steps of the bleachers.

"Of course, baby girl," Adam said, swooping her from the ground causing her to giggle. She crawled from his grip when she saw a baby crawling on the ground. "See yah," Adam chuckled watching Rebecca hurry towards the baby, and sit beside him. Ever since she could walk, she loved when she met new, younger children. She loved seeing babies.

He headed towards the concession stand while she occupied herself with the toddler.


He watched his daughter with another woman, letting out a giggle. The woman was bent over, a baby, sitting on the ground beside her a smile on her face as Rebecca twirled around to show her brand new pink dress off.

"Yeah?" he heard the dark haired woman smile at his daughter. "I bet she's not mean."

"She is. Carly is mean. I wish I had a baby brother! I have a big brother. He isn't my really brother but Carly makes me call him my brother. Daddy doesn't like that. But I want a really brother. And a really mother. Daddy says I don't have a really mother. I do, but she lives in the Bahamas, where it's warm, and she can't ever fly here because the whether here is always bad."

"Yeah?" Kylie Flack asked, watching Rebecca hand Matthew a piece of the cookie Kylie had given her. "That's okay. Matthew's really Daddy lives far away too. Sometimes they can't be here. But they still love you."

"I know," Rebecca nodded her head. "My really Mommy loves me. She sends me post cards."

"Becks," Adam said, standing over his daughter, and picking her up. "What are you doing talking to strangers?"

"Daddy this is Miss Kylie, and her baby Matthew. Kieran plays hockey like Charlie!"

"I gave her a cookie," Kylie said, standing up, Matthew tugging at her waist. "I don't like people giving my kids food, I know. But she was complaining she was hungry, and Mattie offered it before I could turn around. Is she allergic to chocolate?"

"Oh no," Adam laughed shaking her head, handing Rebecca her snickers bar. "She's a little chocolate hoarder. She'll swear up and down she's hungry for some chocolate."

"I think that'd be any female," Kylie giggled. "Her stomach was growling though. She said someone named Carly didn't feed her?"

"Carly," Adam laughed nodding his head. "She didn't feed you, baby?"

"I don't like basketti Daddy. And she made basketti. I wouldn't eat it."

"She didn't make you chicken fingers like I told her to?"

"No. She made Basketti because that's what Charlie wanted. And I didn't want basketti. I told her that she said I don't eat then."

"Why didn't you tell me earlier baby girl?"

"I wasn't hungry then. Can I get a pretzel and hot chocolate with Miss Kylie after Charlie's game? She said she gets pretzels and hot chocolate for Kieran. I want some! Please, Daddy."

Adam glanced at the woman standing in front of him.

"It's fine," Kylie promised him, picking her son up. She pressed a kiss to his cheek and turned back to Adam. "We just go to the stand and grab some pretzels and some hot chocolate before we leave, that's all. Just a few bucks. Us Flacks are big eaters, right bub?"

Matthew nodded his head, and finished his last cookie, before smiling at Adam. "How old is he?"

"22 months," Kylie said, smiling at her son.

"He looks just like you."

"Oh you should see his brother," Kylie laughed, shaking her head. "She looks like you to," Kylie said, nodding her head towards Rebecca.

"Yeah," Adam smiled, nodding his head.

"Daddy says his Irish genes are strong," Rebecca giggled.

"Mine too," Kylie laughed. "Kieran means little dark haired boy in Irish."

"Really?" Rebecca asked, her eyes widening. "Daddy she's Irish too! How come she doesn't have red hair like us?"

"She from a different part of Ireland," Adam half-lied, not really sure how to answer the question.

"Here's your snickers bar," Adam laughed, setting Rebecca down. "Will you give this to Carly?" he asked handing her the coke.

"Okay doke," Rebecca smiled, skipping towards the bleachers.

Adam turned back to the brunette and gave her a smile. "So I don't think we've properly met," he smiled sheepishly, holding his hand out for her to shake. "Adam Ross."

"Kylie Flack," she giggled, switching Matthew from her right hip to her left so she could shake his hand.