AN: Not mine, don't own 'em. Just like to mess around with 'em.
I'm pretty sure that nobody has ever done a story even remotely similar to this plot line to stick with it and hopefully you'll be pleasantly surprised!
"Madelyn! Up! Now!" he yelled down the hall. The sleepy five-year old poked her head around the corner and stared into the eyes of the man making her lunch.
"Daddy can't I just stay home with you today?" she asked, rubbing her hands over her navy blue eyes, fingers tangling in her light brown hair.
Martin wiped his crumb-covered hands on a dishtowel and picked the little girl up in his arms. He placed a quick kiss on her fair-skinned forehead and smiled at her, receiving one of her adorable, thin-lipped smiles in return. "Nope," he said finally, placing her back down on the ground and receiving a pouty-faced response. "Now go get dressed jellybean," Martin commanded and lovingly kicked her in the butt on her way down the hall.
He sighed and ran his fingers through his growing hair, thinking of the past five years he'd shared with the little girl and that adopting her was easily one of the best decisions of his life. He went to sleep every night thinking of all the amazing things she'd taught him that day and woke up every morning looking forward to seeing her brilliant face. As he tucked the sandwich, a banana, and a cookie into her lunch bag, Madelyn came bounding down the hall dressed in a pair of jeans and a thick-strapped tank top.
"Alright Maddy-Bean," Martin said, handing her, her Dora the Explorer backpack. "Into the car."
He buckled Maddy into the backseat of his Sedan outside their suburban Nevada home and drove her to her kindergarten class, kissed her goodbye, and headed to the Las Vegas FBI field office. Even though it was only a desk job, Martin was happy to at least still be a part of the FBI. After adopting Maddy when she was only a few days old, Martin realised that his priorities now laid with the tiny baby awaiting him at home each and every day and long, erratic hours just weren't going to work anymore. So he took the first year of his new daughter's life off, tried to go back, realised he missed her way too much, and took another year off. Finally, just after Maddy's second birthday, Martin took a desk position at the bureau and worked an average of less than thirty hours a week.
He arrived into the building and settled down in his desk, approached almost immediately by his boss.
"Agent Fitzgerald," Agent Sullivan commanded, his brisk, smoker's voice cutting through the air.
"Yes Sir," Martin responded.
His boss dropped the formalities and sat in the chair next to him. "Martin I'm sending you to New York."
Martin gave him a confused look. "I'm sorry?"
"Just temporarily," Sullivan replied. "The string of forty-year old men kidnapped, held hostage for seventy-two hours and then murdered; it seems that our murderer has left to New York. I talked to a …" he paused and checked the manila file in his hands, "Jack Malone."
Martin's hearty fluttered.
"He wanted me to send an agent familiar with the case. You worked this one Martin. I need you to go."
Martin sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, thinking of the circumstances under which he left. "Sir what about my daughter? I can't leave Madelyn. We have no family here," Martin protested.
"I can arrange for someone to stay with Maddy in New York while you work. Airfare, amenities, everything will be completely covered by the bureau," Sullivan said with a smile.
Martin laughed. "When does our flight leave?"
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"Daddy?" Maddy asked a couple hours later from the doorframe of his room.
"Ya babe?" Martin asked while nervously shoving things into his suitcase.
"Where's You Nork?"
Martin stopped his frantic packing and turned his full attention to his little girl.
"New York baby," he said, putting an emphasis on the correct pronunciation, "is all the way on the other side of the country."
Maddy skipped over to his bedside and dragged her tiny body on top of the mattress. "Daddy?"
Martin smiled. "Yes baby?"
"Isn't that where you use to live?" she asked, curiosity etched into her huge eyes.
"It is. Uncle Jack and Uncle Danny and Auntie Viv and Auntie Elena live there too. Do you remember me telling you about them?" Martin asked his daughter, stopping his packing all together as he sat down beside Maddy and pulled her into his lap.
"And Auntie Sam," Madelyn pointed out as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"Ya Maddy-bean. Auntie Sam too." In truth, Martin had only told Maddy about his old co-workers a few times. But she had such a vivid imagination and fantastic memory that she had remembered all their names and added Auntie and Uncle as a prefix. He had also purposely left Sam out because of the painful memories and dreadful guilt he felt at just saying her name.
"Daddy?"
Martin let out a little laugh. This was like a game to her. "Yes?"
"Can I meet them when we go to You Nork?"
Martin's smile dropped and let the mispronunciation slide. "Maybe baby."
"If I'm really, really good?" she pushed.
Martin laughed and hoisted her into her arms. "Did you pack Mr. Whiskers?"
The five-year old nodded her head vigorously and didn't notice the quick change in subject.
"Ok then, let's go to the airport."
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Martin gently lifted his sleeping daughter from the plane's seat into his arms when they finally landed six hours later and carried her into baggage claims. Sullivan had talked to Jack on the phone earlier and had explained Martin's situation, and at Martin's request, asked Jack to keep it under the radar. Martin grabbed their bags and walked out into the bustling New York night, feeling at last like he was finally home, and couldn't help but get the feeling that he was going to receive a less than warm welcome when he returned to work the next day.