Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot. And Michael, but seeing as how she's the offspring of two people I don't own, can I really say she's mine?...hmmm...

AN: I came up with this idea for just this section, then decided, hey wouldn't it be cool if I did an entireseries about the three years while Alex was gone (Witness Protection Program) and a year after her return...yeah yeah...This hopefully won't be all.

Alex/Munch pairing, alluding to and Elliot/Olivia pairing...(more of that in the later posts...:P)

The Most Beautiful Sight Munch's Story

The child, our child, was on Alex's chest. She was already sucking her thumb, a disgusting habit she picked up from my side of the gene pool, though she was less than a month old. One of Alex's arms carefully held on to our daughter protectively, and the other was thrown carelessly over her head. Their breathing was perfectly in sync, Mica's entire body rising with my wife's chest, my daughter's little back rising at the same time. Michael Cabot Munch. Alex had remembered my father, the most important person in my life before he died, when naming our daughter. I have no doubt that our daughter will live up to her masculine name, she's come from a strong couple of people.

Mica's wispy dirty blonde fluff circled her head like a little halo, while her mother's golden-blonde hair was entwined in Mica's tiny fingers. When the baby was awake, her blue eyes mirrored her mother's in size and shape, and they followed me everywhere. Alex sighed and shifted her head under my intense gaze, and Mica, feeling her mother's shift gave a little sigh of her own and grabbed another handful of her mother's fine hair.

I glanced over at the alarm clock, and saw that I had a little less than an hour before I had to get up and go to work. To cases where I would see my wife and newborn daughter, no matter how old or young or race or color hair the victims were, mutilated, then killed, or worse used, then thrown away to suffer the aftermath for the rest of their lives. No wonder I'm such a bitter ass. I laid back wanting to rest for at least a few minutes before I had to greet another day of hell walking the earth. My mind drifted off, and I was dreaming.

Alex forced me to marry her. She went away for three years. Three hell-filled years for both of us, which she came back from wanting things I wasn't prepared to give her. Marriage. A family. Kids. But I loved her. I needed her. She reminded me of that, "I've lived three years without you, John. Three years of wanting to feel you in bed beside me. Of hearing women calling their husbands, their children. I wanted that! I still want that! The thing that kept me from killing myself was knowing, or at least hoping that you would want it too!!! That this three years apart was making you realize, just as it was making me realize!!! I lived three years without you, John. Wondering about what our children would look like. What they would think like. I can't live my entire life daydreaming. I can't live my entire life in a dream. I love you, John." she hung up the phone. And I held the dial tone to my ear for at least fifteen minutes. Still hearing the angst, yet resolution in her voice. She had made her decision, now it was my turn.

I proposed the next day. She was pregnant within a month.

The wedding was a whirlwind affair. A gaiety unheard of in the unit's sordid life of picking up sex offenders. A mystification amongst my colleagues as to my sudden change of heart and an even bigger shock when I acquiesced to my fiancee's request that we have a moderately sized wedding. Cragen was shocked by Alex's request that he walk her down the aisle, her own father having been dead for more than ten years, but pleased as well. Alex was well into her fourth month of pregnancy, Michael showing her approval of the festivities through Alex's persistent morning sickness.

The honeymoon went just as quickly, a generous gift from our friends in the unit, I weekend stay at the Ritz-Carlton. A weekend that wasn't soon forgotten.

We pulled together our savings, sold our apartments, and bought a nice three bedroom house, big enough for Alex to pursue her newfound dedication; children. She took the necessary classes and into her eighth month of pregnancy opened up her in-house daycare. She knew I was uncomfortable with the situation, but the growing bulge that was our child kept me from speaking.

The call came not from Alex, as I was expecting, but from Karen, Alex's OBG-YN. Alex was having complications. Something about Michael wanting to grace us with her presence butt-first. She had my black comedy from the beginning. The entire time of her labor, (all 13 hours) Alex never let go of my hand. I believe that she did it as much for my sake as for hers, to reassure me that no matter what she was going to pull through this. And she did. And she gave me a beautiful baby girl to boot.

The alarm clock woke me up. I opened my eyes and she was staring at me, her serene blue eyes watching me sleep as I had watched her for hours every night since she had been home. Her thumb still in her mouth, hand absently twirling her mother's hair. Seeing me awaken, she took her hand away from her mouth and reached out to me, grabbing my hand that was resting on Alex's bare shoulder. There we were. Our little circle of three. For the first time since learning of Alex's "death", I cried. However this time. I was happy. A feeling I thought I would never have.

The most beautiful.

That was Munch, next is either Casey or Olivia. Both promising to be interesting. Please review. I need the positive affirmation. Please, please, with a cherry on top!!!

Brandi