Sharon woke up to a blend of wonderful smells. Most prevalent among them was coffee. Rusty. She smiled. If it were possible, her heart would have expanded with love.

She rolled out of bed and put on her robe, stepping into the kitchen in her slippers. She didn't want to jinx it, but it seemed they weren't going to catch a case that day.

He was standing in front of the stove. Working his magic.

"Rusty?"

He turned around, wearing his apron. The one she'd gotten him for Christmas. He smiled. "You were supposed to stay in bed, Sharon."

"Oh yeah? Why's that?"

"So I could bring you your breakfast. It's Mother's Day."

She smiled. "Thank you, Rusty, but I couldn't sleep anymore with these wonderful smells, and I'd always rather eat breakfast with you."

She walked across the kitchen to where he was standing. She leaned down to give him a hug. "This is the best Mother's Day I've had in a long time."

He tightened his hold on her. He'd been doing that since the incidents with Daniel Dunn and even more so now that the trial was rapidly approaching. When he did that, she let him, holding him. Rustling his hair sometimes. They were family. Somethings didn't need to be said. She kissed his forehead. There was a flash of a smile at the contact of her lips on his head. He'd never admit it, but he liked her kisses. "It's almost ready, if you want to sit down, Mom."

She held back the tears (and the excitement) that threatened to escape. It was the first time he'd called her that. "Okay."

She rustled his hair and went to sit down. He'd set the table for two, using the china. There was a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice and a cup of coffee at her place. He'd made her coffee light and sweet. Perfect. She lifted the mug to her lips and took a sip. Yes. Even if all he'd done was make her coffee, it would still have been the best Mother's Day treat she had in a long time, made better with his presence.

She looked over at him. "I thought you said you were planning to bring it to me."

He shrugged. "I knew you'd wake up."

"You had the tray ready?"

He nodded. Always prepared. She'd always admired that about him.

It was the same one she'd used for him when he had the flu that winter. He looked so surprised when she brought him soup the first time.

He came to the table with the pan, dishing their omelets. Then he brought the toast over and sat down to join her.

She took a bite. "Mmm." She finished chewing. "Delicious, as always."

He beamed at her. "What would you like to do? No case, right?"

She nodded. "Not yet, anyway." She smiled. "I was thinking we could have a pajama day and watch some movies."

"Yeah? What would you like to watch?"

"A series of something could be fun. You ever see the 'Lord of the Rings?'"

He shook his head.

"Oh, Rusty. You'd love it. There's so much excitement and great characters."

He smiled. "Sounds great, Mom." He became serious again. "You're okay with me calling you that, right?"

"More than okay, honey."

They finished eating. He laid down the law that she didn't clean on Mother's Day, and she didn't argue much. Instead he ordered her into the living room to get the movie ready, which she followed willingly.

She took her place on the sofa, and Rusty took the one on the other side. She pushed 'play', and they spent the next few hours talking during the movie, which she was delighted to discover was a trait they shared, much to the chagrin of other audience members. Today, it was just them, and they could chat to their hearts' content, repeating funny lines, talking the heroes through their troubles, and discussing the plausibility of various events. It was perfect.