A/N: Incredible thanks to Sally Jetson for the beta.


With the stereo playing a soft country tune, Danny found himself singing along to the words as he shuffled across his living room floor. Nose crinkled in concentration, his tongue appeared in the corner of his mouth as he fitted the last few pieces together. Smiling boyishly as his back rested against the edge of the sofa, he took a moment to appreciate his latest achievement, his excitement reminding him of the first time he had set foot in a candy store; eyes wide with a deathly tight grip on his mother's hand.

Scattered across the floor were plastic miniatures, pieces of the set that he hadn't found use for or had accidentally broken. Fortunately for him, the abilities of a CSI proved capable of putting together a train set. With a grunt, he stood up, stretching out the sore muscles that complained for having been in the same position for the past 2 hours. Sighing tiredly, he collapsed onto the sofa, a smile gracing his features as his back settled into the soft leather, moulding perfectly to his form. His eyes trained on the ceiling, flashes of his childhood ran through his mind before he turned to admire his accomplishment.

As far back as he could remember, money had always been an issue with his family. They were from the lower-class, some said even below the working-class but that had never dampened the Messer spirit. His family hadn't earned much; the income his father had brought home from the corner shop that they owned had been just enough to keep food on the table and a comfortable roof over their heads. Even without money, his family had had everything they needed; food, shelter and each other.

Living under the roof of a shabby 2 bedroom house, his days as a child had been spent doing the chores and playing in the garden with his brother. They hadn't had fancy games and gadgets, only each other and whatever else of use they could find. All around him the children of the upper-class had travelled in cars and rode sparkling new bicycles while he had always been found helping his mother. The world around him had drawn happiness from their toys, from entertainment. He had drawn it from the light that danced in his mother's eyes every time he made her laugh. His mother's laugh had always been contagious, just like his own. Although he knew that his early childhood hadn't been led with extravagance, that hadn't mattered or so he had thought.

With his head pillowed by a cushion, Danny turned to the trains that lay scattered between the connected tracks. He cringed as he remembered his early school days; when he had been left out of everything because his family couldn't even afford to buy him new clothes every year. So what if he wore hand-me-downs? Clothes were clothes, new or old, they did the same thing. But the other kids had never understood. No one had understood.

He remembered clearly that one fateful day when one of his classmates had loudly announced that his father had bought him a present. Being a high-paid broker on wall-street, the boy's family was well off, living in the better neighbourhoods. Unfortunately, their wealth had spoiled their son beyond comprehension and help. The boy had strutted around school as if the president himself was below him, his nose held high, regarding only the fellow students that were of the same social status. Danny hated it; the boy who got everything he wanted, who never failed to let that fact be known to everyone. Nelson Claymore got everything. Danny Messer had nothing.

The boy had invited everyone to come to his house that evening, wanting to see the looks of awe and jealousy flitter across the faces of his friends when he unveiled the 'bestest toy ever'. Of course, the term 'everyone' naturally meant 'everyone but poor little Danny Messer'. But curiosity got the better of Danny as he decided to anonymously tag along, following the others like a beaten dog that had been refused to be fed. Who would notice him? Who would notice the poor blonde haired, blue eyed boy with glasses? No one; it had always been that way.

Hidden behind the large group of children, Danny had followed them into the boy's house, his presence unknown to anyone. He'd smiled brightly at the boy's mother, who simply looked on in distaste at his clothing. It was- like mother like son; perhaps the stuck-up behaviour was hereditary. Silently, he had willingly followed the group into the living room and there, perched on a small table in the corner, was a gleaming new train set. The charcoal black steam engine whirling around in circles, the golden panels gleaming as it sped along the circular track. His eyes had widened and his heart panged with jealousy. He would never be able to afford one, never.

Unfortunately for Danny, that one glimpse was all he was ever going to get as the boy had noticed his head poking out behind his friends. He had turned and ran for the door but was jumped before he could reach it. He had been knocked to one side, left to the mercy of the feet of his so called classmates. Kicked and beaten, he had been carried and shoved out the door onto the sidewalk. Wordlessly, the boy had stepped forth from the sneering group, a merciless grin plastered on his chubby, babied face. Danny had whimpered as he clutched his stomach in pain, afraid that he was going to be kicked again. Instead the boy, his grin never relenting, had spat upon his face and Danny had felt the disgust course through his body.

They had laughed at him, punched him and kicked him, but he had been stronger than that. Although he had run home to his mother, tear-stricken, his sobs had turned to yelling and cursing, blaming anything and everything for being poor, the fraction of him that yearned to be accepted by the others finally voicing out. His fists had pounded his mother's chest as she had held him tight, the tears from his eyes flowing like a flooded river, all the while uttering only one word. Why?

Why was he the one to suffer, while all else around him seemed to prosper? But his mother had silenced that train of thought with a slap to his face. It had come hard and fast, but before he could react, she had placed her warm hands on his cheeks once again, cradling his face.

"Your heart is richer than any one of them. Do you understand me?"

He had nodded, the tears that had spilled, leaving his eyes stinging red. "But they get everything they want, Ma."

"There is more to life than getting everything that you want Daniel. One day you will understand." His mother had said nothing else save the promise she had asked him to keep for her; that when the time came, to never let his own children be like the others; spoilt, conceited and rude. That promise he held dearly in his heart today, now more than ever.

A tear fell from his eye, dripping down the side of his face and onto the cushion. Danny stood up, his eyes glistening with many more that he refused to shed. Silently, he placed the trains onto the track, gently connecting the carriages together behind the locomotive before finally switching it on, causing one last tear to fall.

As his eyes followed the train through the intricate twist and turns of the track, Danny smiled as he remembered his mother's words. One day, he'd have his own train set, and that was today, at 36. It dawned on him that everything he went through, all the trouble and pain, had led him to where he was now; happier with his life than he'd ever been. But the train set was a part of his past he couldn't let go. No, those children hadn't gotten everything they had wanted. But with the pieces in his hand, he had everything he ever wanted.

Getting back onto his feet, he made his way into the bedroom, but stopped short at the scene before him. On the bed was Lindsay, elegantly sprawled and sound asleep, the exhaustion evident on her face. And in the corner, his baby boy cooed in his crib, happily laughing at his father's sudden appearance. At 8 months old, Owen Daniel Messer was the spitting image of his father, with dirty blonde hair and piercing blue eyes.

Grinning at his son, Danny padded over to the crib and lifted Owen up into his arms, tickling him lightly. Owen squealed and laughed in his father's arms, his wide eyes and carefree smile bringing a smile to his father's face. Heading out of the room, Danny stopped to close the door slightly and whispered, "Sleep tight, Montana," before turning back to the living room, bouncing a chuckling Owen in his arms.

XXXXXX

Waking up from her doze, Lindsay sat up, her heart momentarily dropping at the sight of the empty crib before hearing the unmistakable squeals of her son from outside the room. Grabbing a robe that hung at the end of the bed, she slipped it on before padding out.

Leaning against the doorway, she smiled at the sight of her husband sitting on the floor with their son who clapped and squealed every time the train went past sitting between his legs. On Danny's face, she saw the happiness and joy, amplified by every smile that glowed on Owen's face. He had told her of the trying times he had as a young boy, understanding the importance of the train set. It was a part of his past, and now, Owen's future.

Still she remained silent, watching the spectacle of Daddy playing with his baby boy, both their laughter like music to her ears.


A/N: Thoughts? Suggestions? Please review and tell me what you thought.