A/N: This promised story has been a long time in coming, and I apologize for the delay. Inspiration finally stuck! BookWorm37, this one is especially for you. Thanks for being so patient.

Some nights were darker than others. He had never been able to explain that. He knew it was a matter of perception, and emotion had something to do with it as well. Some nights the darkness was comforting, like a blanket or a dark cocoon that kept out the evil in the world. Other times, it was smothering and he felt as though he might suffocate as it closed in on him. Fortunately, the suffocating times did not occur often. Those were the times he retreated from the comfort of his bed, unwilling to associate the suffocating darkness with the love and comfort he found in the arms of his sleeping wife.

It was one of those nights that drove him away from her. He tried to shake it by taking a walk in the stillness of the summer night, but he couldn't. He returned to the apartment, and went into the kitchen. Getting a glass from the cabinet between the stove and the sink, he turned toward the refrigerator, opening the cabinet above it. He pulled out a bottle of scotch and opened it, filling the glass. He didn't replace the bottle, leaving it on the counter. He had a sense of what it would take to relieve him of the oppression of the night; tonight he would need more than one glass.

Lowering himself onto the couch, he wondered if she knew about these nights. She was very intuitive, at least as far as he was concerned. She could often sense his moods and she knew how to respond to them. But this was something he kept from his family. This was something he had been dealing with for as long as he could remember. Certain things he'd found refuge with as a teen and a young man were no longer available to him as a cop and a family man. So he had to settle for the options he had access to. He took another drink.

It was a bad night. She got out of bed and walked to her window, looking up at the cloudy sky, reflecting the city lights back to earth. She wondered if every place was like this, or if there were places where there was no light for the clouds to send back down. Sometimes, the sky seemed far away, too far to touch. Other times, like tonight, the sky seemed close enough to touch, and that made her uneasy, even if she couldn't put words to her unrest.

She opened her bedroom door and padded out into the living room, thinking maybe it would help if she could watch cartoons. Sometimes, it would be enough to distract her busy mind and chase away the specter of the too-close sky. She would watch cartoons until she either felt better or went to sleep on the couch. One way or the other, it helped.

Halfway into the dark room she stopped. Someone else was there. She knew his shape without needing more light to see his features. He moved, turning toward her, and he spoke, his voice soft and comforting. "What's the matter, baby?"

"I couldn' sleep. Did you couldn' sleep, too?"

"Yes. I couldn't sleep."

She walked to the edge of the couch. "I was gonna watch cartoons. Can I sit with you instead?"

She heard the sound of his glass being set on the coffee table. His big hand wrapped around her little one and he drew her closer, lifting her onto his lap. He leaned back and settled her against him; she snuggled close. He smelled different, but it wasn't a bad different. She felt the uneasy feeling recede as she rubbed the soft hair on his chest with the flat of her palm. It was comforting, familiar. He rubbed her back, and she could relax.

"Did you hava bad dream, Daddy?"

"Not tonight. Did you?"

"No. I jus' got scared b'cause the sky is too close."

He understood that without needing any further explanation. Sometimes, the sky had encroached too closely into his world when he was little, too. She was too much like him, and he worried about her. But a new worry had been eating at him over the past few weeks, since they'd brought her home following her near-fatal illness in New Jersey. He was afraid his credibility with her was at risk. He never intended to lie to his daughter, but he had, and that tormented him. He shivered, an uncontrollable reflex.

"Is you cold, Daddy?"

"No. But I'd like to talk about something."

"Okay. We can talk. What do you want to talk about?"

"Maggie, you know I would never knowingly lie to you."

"I know. Do you think you did?"

"I'm afraid you will think I did."

She lifted her head from his chest. He didn't need any light to see the puzzled expression on her face. "Why would I think that?"

"Do you still have bad dreams about the mean lady who took you from Grandpa's?"

"Sometimes."

"Do you ever think about the things she told you?"

"You mean about your daddy hurting you?"

"I mean any of it."

She shifted her position. This wasn't a comfortable topic for her. "I don' like thinkin' 'bout it, Daddy."

"Neither do I. But something has come up."

"Is she still in jail?"

He heard the worry in her voice and he hugged her. "Yes. She's still in jail. Don't worry about that. This is something else."

She slid off his lap and walked in front of the couch to the end table in the corner, where she turned on the lamp that sat there. Then she walked back to him and climbed back into his lap. Now they could see one another, and he wasn't sure if that was better or worse. But she wanted to see his face, and he understood that. Rarely did he not understand his daughter. "Okay, Daddy. Tell me."

In her mind, it was as simple as that. For him, it wasn't that easy. "I told you that you and Tommy were all Mommy and I needed, that there wouldn't be any more babies for us."

She nodded. "That's what you telled me."

"What do you think about that?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean how would you feel if Mommy and I changed our minds and decided to have one more baby?"

She tapped her chin and thought about it for a few minutes. "I wouldn' hafta give up my baby?"

"No, of course not. We would never give up either of you. You would have another baby to love."

"So insteada two babies, you an' Mommy would have three."

"Right."

"What do you think about havin' three of us?"

He smoothed his hand over her hair. "However many babies we have, it will never change how much I love any of you."

"Will you ever change your mind?"

"About my children? No. I will always love you."

She gave it some more thought. "The mean lady didn' know what she was sayin', did she?"

She knew...Nicole always knew what she was saying and the effect it would have on the person she was saying it to. But Maggie was too young to understand that. "Of course not. She was trying to confuse you, to make you sad. That's all."

"She wanted me to not love you any more."

Her simple, direct observation hit him in the gut like a hammer. She was exactly right. Nicole was insanely jealous of both Maggie and her mother. But just the suggestion that Maggie's love might be in any way affected negatively was a devastating thought. He nodded, unable to find any words to respond to her. She reached out and touched his cheek. "Don' worry, Daddy." She got up onto her knees so she could press her forehead against his. "I got you for my daddy and no one can change that. I will al'ays love you bestest of ev'yone.. You an' Mommy."

He wrapped his arms around her and held her close. She knew he loved her but he wondered how much of a clue she had about just how much she meant to him. "So what do you think, mouse?"

"About you an' Mommy givin' me a new baby?" She sat back on her heels in his lap and met his eyes. "I would like a new baby, but on'y if I don' gotta give up Tommy, 'cause he's my bestest baby an' I love him."

"Tommy will always be your baby. No one will change that."

"So I will have two babies?"

"Yes."

"An' Uncle Mike's baby, too."

He laughed softly. "And Uncle Mike's baby, too."

She snuggled into his arms. "It's okay you an' Mommy changed your minds. I would like another baby." She yawned, but she was still a little unsettled. So she shifted her position, resting her head on his shoulder and sliding her hand into his hair, like she had done all her life. She sighed softly and murmured, "I love you, Daddy."

He leaned back into a corner of the couch. "I love you, too, mouse."

She sighed softly and was soon sleeping. He finished his drink, but never made it into the kitchen for a refill. The little light in his life chased away the encumbering darkness, and she made everything all right. That was something she had always been able to do for him, just by being part of his life.