Sorry everyone for the long wait but I think the length of the chapter makes up for it. It's double the length of chapter 1. Already working on Chapter 3, which both of these chapters is supposed to be the fluff of the story. I plan to make this a long fic which includes Lassie whump, and angst. The story does get much darker and more intense, and I'm excited for all of those who have stayed with me to chapter 2. I really hope this turns out well as I plan. For a gift to those who will stay throughout the entire thing there will be a twist ending. So Enjoy!

There are some references to my first short one-shot I wrote titled "Box Full Of Colored Crayons" You don't need to read it to understand it but it adds to the story and makes what he says more realistic. There are a couple references to some children's cartoons and movies that I do NOT own. For those who don't know what Denny's is it's a restaurant that serves breakfast, lunch, and dinner open 24 hours a day. I don't own anything to do with Kilwans ice cream shoppe, Lucky Charms, Cops, or Friday the 13th

I want to thank Texasartchick for quoting Lassiter in what he would really say if a child asked him what a police officer does.

Psychrulz for helping me develop Amelia's character more and get inside her brain. Figuring out how a child grieves over the death of a parent is a hard job, but someone has to do it.

SilverLuna You are amazing! I love all your fics of course, so everyone if you haven't read her fics please do so! She is a wonderful beta and I enjoy her input and corrections to my fic, without her I don't think this would be so enjoyable.

Egorstandish I think our plot wars paid off, because giving off some of my ideas and fighting over it got my brain running and got me excited to write more. ;P I love your appreciation for wanting to read more and anticipating the next chapter. It's always fun sharing info with you on how everything's going to be or turn out. I also love your appreciation for writing in general that's what makes yours so unique.

The sky a sea of black as his long coat flaps in the wind. His head hangs low as he counts the cracks in the sidewalk. The air thick and musty as rain drizzles, leaving wet droplets to veer down his face, falling to the ground like a hammer to his heart. He walks along the city streets hoping to find a bar to get plastered. Coming to a crosswalk, his thoughts wander back to his wife, Victoria. He remembers the shouting, the threats and his slamming the door in an attempt to shut the world out. They've been having problems for a while now and their marriage is on the brink of disaster. So now he is wallowing in his own self pity, trying to sort everything in his mind. Stopping alongside a curb, he glances across the street. There, a celestial figure stood, her hair waving in the wind as her face glowed in the city lights. 'What!? This can't be happening! Oh, my god, it's her!' his mind screams in horror. "Amy?" he chokes out in a whisper, recalling at once the free spirit he fell in love with so many years ago. Then, she had been the perfect complement to his tough exterior, charming and sweet, bringing out the best in him. His body is stiff as his eyes stayed glued to the figure across the way.

Observing the man staring at her, Amy takes note of his commonplace features. There was something familiar about him, but she couldn't quite place it. She feels uneasy, quickening her pace to shake him, until his familiarity hit her like a brick to the face. "Oh, my god, Carlton?!" she breathes out heavily, immediately turning on her heel, she races across the street to catch up, screaming out, "Carlton!"

His heart thumps hard in his chest. 'Don't turn around, just don't do it!' he keeps telling himself. "Carlton!" he hears again. Swallowing, he turns to face his past. It has been five years since he last saw her. She rushes over with a grin spreading on her face.

"Carlton, I can't believe it's you! I thought I'd never run into you again." She quickly engulfs him into a hug as the air is suddenly forced out of his lungs. Shock, comfort, and a feeling of warmth spread through him. 'You shouldn't be feeling this, Carlton; you're married for god's sake. She's in your past, just forget about her. She's the one that left you.'

"So how are you? How've you been?"

"I'm . . . fine," he replied, unsure, while wiping the rain from his face. "How about you?"

"Oh, everything's been great, but I'd never imagined in a million years that I'd run into you on the streets, unless I was doing something unlawful." She just giggled as Carlton chuckled along with her. The sound of her voice made Carlton's heart flutter as he sucks in a breath.

"You are a cop now, right? Done with the training and everything?"

"Yeah, all done."

"So, last I heard you got married?" Amy questions.

"Uh yeah . . . I'm still married . . . but"—'Don't do it Carlton, don't say it'—But were kind of having some trouble right now."

"Oh, is it bad?"

"Uh, yeah . . . I mean, NO! . . . uh, well, I don't really know," he sighed exasperatedly.

Amy gave a sad smile in return. "I'm sorry to hear that." 'That means he could be breaking it off. I may have another chance with him. Leaving Carlton was the worst mistake I've ever made.' Amy contemplated pitifully. "But you like your job right? I know you've always been dedicated to joining the Police Force."

"Yeah of course, I love my job! It's the best thing that could ever happen to me."

"I can only imagine; the uniform, handcuffs and all are kind of sexy." Carlton actually blushes at her comment, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise. Catching this, Amy smirks, the catches herself with a playful slap to his arm.

'Amy has got to be messing with me. What kind of person says that to your ex?!'

"Well, umm, you know if you ever need anyone to talk to I'm always here. Here's my number." She quickly pulls out a paper and a pen. "We could meet up over coffee or something."

Carlton stared at her outstretched out hand like it was poison. 'Don't do it Carlton. Damn it! Don't be stupid!' his conscience screamed at him. Reaching out, he grabs the paper from her, not missing the way his hand brushes a touch of skin. He pulls back quickly almost as if he caught on fire, then mumbles, "Yeah, sure, that would be nice."

Smiling, Amy places her hand on his shoulder. Carlton could feels heat radiating off his body just from the touch, as his throat constricts, going dry.

"Okay, well, I'm kind of in a rush. I have to go meet a friend. But I'm sure I'll see you later then." Amy gingerly smooths her palm across his arm while pulling away. Waving, she disappears around a corner and Carlton lets out a long painful breath he didn't even realize he was holding.

* * *

Gasping for air, Carlton shot upright, his fists grabbing at the sheets. He pulled his legs over the side of the bed, put his face in his hands and breathed in. He tried to forget the memory and looked over at his clock: it read 10 o'clock am. "Oh, shit!" he muttered.

It took him more than a few moments of rushing to remember he had called the Chief at about 6 am, telling her he had personal business to attend to and wouldn't be in to work today. Carlton had meant to get up then, go about his morning routine and see about making his home more child friendly, but he had unwittingly drifted back to sleep. In two hours, around noon, he would have to go pick up Amelia. Gertrude would be calling before then to confirm the appointment.

Leaning against the door frame of the bathroom, Carlton rubbed his face with a fist, exhaling deeply. After his shower, he would take Gertrude's advice and fix the place up a bit, by cleaning, setting up the guest bedroom, and safely stowing his guns in a drawer or in a cabinet too high for a child's reach.

After he was done, there was still a solid ten or twenty minutes to kill before the call; he felt jittery just sitting around doing nothing. So to pass time, Carlton went to get their old photo album out, remembering exactly where he'd put it. The cover a yellow cloth material was worn in one place, having a patch sown on of a blue rose. Digging it out of his closet, he ran his fingers across the cover. With the soft texture between his fingers, he closed his eyes. Amy, why did you have to let this happen? We could have had everything. Opening to the first page, a smiling Amy greeted him. Frozen in the moment, she seemed so happy at the time, like nothing could ever ruin her day.

Carlton turned the pages slowly, feeling Amy's character come alive as he grazed on each square of memory. Amy was always a free spirit, and a hard worker, doing everything herself. She would never want to accept help because she felt she was confident in whatever she did, no matter what it was. But at the same time she was a lovable person and with a sweet personality. Carlton had been charmed by her innocent qualities as well as her resilience to get under his toughest layers to bring out his softer, playful side; he thought she had been perfect for him. He should know better to let his emotions get the better of him, but these memories bothered him. Amy was effervescent; nothing could ever wipe the grin off her face. Just as he was about to turn the page a buzzing noise erupted in the room, knocking him out of his daze.

Nervously fumbling with his phone, he answered to Gertrude's voice informing him that he just had to sign a couple more things before they were all set. The call had made him eager to get this over with, but before he left he knew he had to do one more thing.

Pulling the first photo out of the album, he proceeded to place it into an old frame he had found in one of the drawers where he put his guns. Walking into the guest bedroom, Carlton put the frame of Amy's carefree day onto the dresser. He paused at the door of the empty room, knowing his life was headed for a new beginning. Carlton offered a sad smile in return to the photograph he whispering, "I still love you Amy, and I promise that I'll try my best to do everything for her." With that he shut the door, hoping somewhere above Amy smiling.

* * *

Amelia peeked out from the corner of the door, hoping he'd return soon. She held a large fluffy teddy bear in her right hand as she leaned against the door with her left, on her tippy toes. Gertrude told Amelia her father would be here shortly and she was more than ecstatic to hear that. She really couldn't wait to see him again and get to know more about him. To her this was a larger than life experience. It was a great adventure for her to encounter. Like Puff the Magic Dragon or The Pagemaster. It was almost as if her world would come to life like the books themselves, and taking her through this outlandish dimension to carry her through this lifelong expedition. Having a father was all still new to her. It was a foreign area that she had not explored yet—in all of her seven years of life—much like the fictional journey some of her favorite movies held.

Amelia took note of a suited man with a smoothed out tie that was pacing outside; and for some reason his clothes didn't have any wrinkles, just like the last time. He reminded her of Cosmo from the Fairly Odd-Parents. He always looked perfect with the suit and tie, and had these peculiar mannerisms like the day she first met him. He kept staring at her with these goofy smiles which she found so silly. Definitely like Cosmo! She just hoped he would be as much fun as the imaginary fairly OddParent would have. After a couple minutes of talking with Gertrude he finally stepped through the door.

Amelia looked up at him with big bright eyes. Her father appeared to be nervous, fidgeting with his hands and side stepping with his feet. "Ok, Detective here are her belongings," Gertrude spoke, clumsily handing him the heavy duffel bag. He solidly grabbed a hold of it without any problem.

"If you ever need any help feel free to call. I know you have a busy schedule so when you are ready to take the paternity test just inform me and we'll get everything set up. I'll see you in about two weeks to check up on the both of you to see how everything is going, and to make sure your home is up to safety standards. I wish the both of you luck in the future." Kneeling down to Amelia's height, "Amelia, I'm so happy for you and hope that you two become very close. I'm glad we got to meet.

"Please, Detective, have a safe drive home." Gertrude then stuck out her hand in Carlton's direction. Lassiter eyed the old woman like she had just left the Psyche Ward, but eventually gave her a handshake in return for all of her effort in dealing with Amelia's case.

Amelia glanced back up at Lassiter ready to go, grasping his hand with hers. The Detective appeared to have frozen over in the most recent ice age. His body went rigid as she felt his hand tense up. Amelia knitted her brows in confusion hoping she didn't do anything wrong.

Carlton Lassiter was called many things in his life: stubborn, unfair, hardheaded, unfriendly, grumpy, difficult, harsh, and insensitive. But never in a million years has anyone ever thought to call Lassiter kindhearted, gentle, compassionate, or even caring. Taking a big leap Carlton let down his scowl, swallowed his pride and gently gripped his daughter's hand. Closing his eyes and breathing in deeply, he turned to look at Amelia. Her face glowed, ready for whatever this journey was about to bring. With that, they walked out the building.

* * *

After setting her bag in the trunk and getting into the car, he leaned over to make sure Amelia was wearing her seat belt. The ride back to the house was mostly quiet, the silence unsettling to cause Lassiter to drum his fingers on the steering wheel. As he hit his blinker to change lanes, a car veered in front of him, cutting them off. "Damn it! Watch where the hell you're going!" Carlton screamed out the window. Having the urge to turn on his siren and chase after the guy he decided against it, almost forgetting Amelia was in the seat next to him. Clearing his throat he corrected himself, "Ahem . . . what I mean is, uh . . . darn, watch where you're going."

Amelia just giggled at his unusually strange behavior. "You know, it's not like I've never heard those words before."

Carlton tried to come up with the best response a parent would use. "Well, yeah, but . . . you shouldn't say them either even though you hear them all the time. It's not good to pick up words like that."

"I know. When Mommy was mad she would start saying bad words, but told me to never repeat the things she said because it's bad." At a loss for words, Carlton felt kind of sick to his stomach. He was trying to be responsible but damn! it was hard. What was he supposed to say? Her mother already told her about these things. Was she always going to do that to him every time he corrected her? He cringed inwardly, hoping this parenting thing would get easier.

The next couple of minutes consisted of even more awkward silence. Amelia sat with her elbow on the door resting her chin on her hand, staring out the window, while her bear rested on her lap. Not really sure what to talk about, instead she counted the red cars that went by. Three, four, five, six . . . ten, eleven, twelve. Exhaling she scanned the road as thoughts flogged her brain. Maybe he doesn't like me? Darn, I think I said something wrong, the way he just stopped talking so suddenly. I really wish Mommy were here to help me out, she always knows what to do.

Her mother's death was a whole other experience she was not ready to delve into. The place where her feelings of her mother's passing was overwhelmingly dark, the dark itself taking on a human shape that haunted her dreams. Amelia didn't have anything to hold on to in this place, and even in this darkness, there wasn't anywhere she could hide. All she wanted was to get away from it, to never have to face it. But whenever it tried to face her, it only brought pain, like skin red and raw from being scratched too much to satisfy an itch. She shoved the thoughts away as hard as she could; fighting back—with a vengeance—her emotions, and replaced them with her joy and eagerness to be with her father.

"Can we put on the siren?!" Amelia unexpectedly blurted out, trying to cheer herself up. Lassiter gritted his teeth, gripping the steering wheel with white knuckles, trying very hard not to flip out. His face grew red and his patience grew short. Like a balloon expanding with helium, his annoyance increased as the pressure took over. Just as his impatience was about to make an abrupt entrance Amelia broke off his thought process. "Uh, never mind. I just thought it was cool. I know it's for all police business and stuff." Carlton's fury immediately deflated. He groaned in aggravation for being so stupid. This wasn't Spencer he was talking to. It was actually a seven year old child, who at the moment looked up to him and wanted nothing more than some attention. "It's OK. I'm glad you know it's not used for a toy," he explained, trying to be considerate. Amelia was pleased that he didn't get angry, so she smiled feeling accepted. Damn it the hell! I really wish Amy were here. She'd definitely know what to do, Carlton thought.

* * *

The house was huge, at least for Amelia's standards. She had never lived in a house before, since her mother always lived in apartments. Wow! Amelia mouthed, jumping out of the car. Her mouth hung open in awe and astonishment. She noticed the empty flower beds near the front of the house filled with weeds. Her mother had always liked flowers and maybe her father would let her plant some. Her attention quickly went back to the house. It was bright and painted white with red framework along the outer edges of the house. It was so beautiful Amelia was filled with a certain sense of 'Home'.

Racing up the steps her sight was on nothing but the house. She had forgotten about the world around her and time stood still. As she almost tripped over the last step, Carlton caught a hold of her shoulder, keeping her upright while still balancing her duffel bag in the other hand.

"That's the last thing I need the first day I get you, a trip to the emergency room. That old bat of a social worker will have my head before I know it, accusing me of something else. Just slow down, Amelia. Watch where you're going and please be careful," Carlton muttered. Still wrapped up in wonderment she almost ran towards the front door. Kids! Carlton thought sarcastically as he rolled his eyes.

The house is almost as big as a mansion! Amelia's mind exclaimed, almost like that cartoon, 'Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends'. She'd love to have her own little blue friend to enjoy everything with. Also, to share exploring her new relationship with her daddy, and to have someone that understood her feelings. She'd name him Courage, like 'Courage the Cowardly Dog', her friend Courage would make her feel brave. He'd have the guts to push her through this and help her face the pain. Courage could be her conscience and act as a sort of—fearless spirit.

Carlton opened the front door and went in first, setting her bag on the floor by the couch. Amelia followed, eyeing the living area in wonder. The inside wasn't as bright and colorful as the outside, but it was still cozy and made her feel safe. She hugged the teddy bear to her chest and smiled at her surroundings. There were tons of boxes filled with papers stacked in a corner. She imagined how she could pile the boxes in a castle-like structure, stacking them as a fort and claim queen of the palace. That could be her sacred place where she and Courage could talk about things. There also weren't a lot of pictures in his home. She frowned, thinking how upsetting that was. Doesn't anyone love him like Mommy loved me? Where are all his pictures of his friends and family? Well, then that means more room for pictures of me and Daddy! Amelia sighed, returning to a somber mood. She noticed one wall in particular that had mug shots of bad people. There were writing and documents along the wall, as well describing things about the suspects. Who in the world would have a wall of people he didn't know, but no pictures of people he did know? Yep, Daddy is definitely weird like 'Cosmo'! She laughed, thinking back to her earlier contemplation.

Amelia was a very imaginative child who lived in her head. She had a huge imagination, loved coming up with stories and saw everything as a long mysterious journey. She loved to figure things out and study them in detail. In reality, she'd actually make a great detective which she most likely got from Lassiter's genes. But because of this, and from the creative unique side of her mother, she would really make a talented writer.

"So, uh, this is your new home," Carlton said, inhaling sharply, realizing the reality of his comment. Looking around he noted a gun on the counter he forgot to put away. "This you don't play with. If you ever see it lying around DON'T ever touch it. Unless you are in serious danger and really need to use it. Understand?" he stated sternly.

"Yes, I understand." She replied back with as much seriousness as Lassiter. She hoped he wasn't always this serious.

He put the gun in a drawer and proceeded to walk down the hallway, motioning for Amelia to follow. "OK, this here is your room. I fixed up the guest bedroom but later on we can change it around and you can put whatever you'd like in here. I hope you like it." Carlton opened the door to reveal a bed and a dresser along with a closet. Bounding past Carlton, she screamed, "I love it!" She proceeded to jump up onto the bed and into the air, landing on her back.

Carlton was about to yell at her for jumping on the furniture, but his response died out when he spotted the smiling picture of Amy again on the dresser. He looked back at Amelia and saw how happy she looked. Since her mother died he was sure she would be going through a tough time, but hadn't showed yet. However, deep down he knew she was hurt because he definitely was going through it as well. So for once, he backed down and let her enjoy being a kid.

She hugged her bear close again and laid it onto the bed by her pillow. Glimpsing around the room once more, she saw the picture of her mother in a frame; her expression glazed over into a recollecting one. She was pleased to see a photograph of her mother, being that she hadn't been able to grab one at her house when the horrible accident happened. She was immediately taken away from her home. Amelia slowly tread towards the photograph. Her breathing became unsteady, heart pumping the air from her lungs as memories of the distant past invaded her brain. Small, fragile fingers traced the picture as she laid out her palm across the glass like she could almost feel her presence.

Observing this, Lassie could see pain etched out in her features while she sat there with her eyes closed. He wasn't sure what to do when unexpectedly Amelia took one long stride across the room, crashing into him with a thump! and hugging his midsection. Before he could even respond she pulled back, whispering a small "Thank you." Padding out of the room she roamed around to explore the rest of the house. Carlton still stood in the doorway, finally exhaling rather loudly. He grinned at Amy, chuckling on his way out to catch up with Amelia.

"Hey Amelia, are you hungry? I could make you some lunch?"

"Uh . . . sure," she replied, not really paying attention; instead, investigating her new home.

In about 15 minutes Lassiter was done, setting the grilled cheese on the table. She slid into the chair staring down at it as if the sandwich was about to jump out and eat her. Lassiter sat across from her staring at her, lost at her expression. For a couple minutes there was some uncomfortable silence, then finally he awkwardly started rambling, "I, uh . . . made you a grilled cheese sandwich, because I . . . well, I like grilled cheese sandwiches . . . and I thought . . ." He pushed the dish closer to Amelia, who kept on staring at her sandwich like there was some complex puzzle to it. Carlton started fidgeting with his hands folded out on the table as more silence commenced. He eyed the room a little bit until it got too unnerving, then he shrugged, speaking, "I used to eat these a lot when I was a kid . . . I loved them."

Even more silence until Amelia looked up at Lassiter then back at her sandwich for a few more seconds. Finally she looked back up shyly and quietly voicing, "Lucky Charms."

Confused, Carlton replied, "Uh . . . yeah, sure, for breakfast you can have Lucky Charms or any kind of cereal. . . . So! . . . Anyway, uh, dig in." He motioned to the grilled cheese, pushing the plate towards her some more.

Immediately, Amelia pushed the plate away. Lassiter instinctively shoved the plate back already irritated, and then folded his hands back onto the table. "Try that," he said.

Amelia ogled her sandwich once more, this time like it was going to explode. She glanced up at Lassiter, who was clearly aware she had just shoved the plate away for the third time. This time Carton breathed in very deeply, counting a slow ten in his head. One, two, three, four . . . ah, damn! Ten! The vein in his forehead began to pop out as he held all his anger inside. They both stared at each other for a minute, Amelia unfazed by Lassiter's dagger-like look.

"I eat Lucky Charms," she spoke up, blinking once.

Letting the air out of his lungs Carlton massaged his temple with his fingers. "OK . . ." he drew out, ". . . fine, you like breakfast for lunch. I get it." He got up, raiding his pantry with the hope of finding something of interest, but nothing came about. Closing the fridge he stood up and tapped the counter in frustration. He really needed to go grocery shopping because there definitely wasn't any kid food in his house. Really?! Does a child really have to be that complicated?! It's GRILLED CHEESE for god's sake! Everyone likes grilled cheese!

Facing Amelia whom was still gazing at her grilled cheese, he verbalized his thoughts, "Fine, I don't really have anything here to eat, since I have to go grocery shopping. . . So, how about we go to Denny's? Does that sound good? They have breakfast there."

Amelia actually smiled, nodding her head.

"OK, go get ready."

Hopping off of her chair she ran to grab her bear as Lassiter let out a defeated sigh, plopping back down into a chair. "Well, she definitely knows how to strike a nerve,"Carlton muttered.

* * *

While being seated, Amelia glanced around the entire room taking everything in. She sat her bear next to her in the booth. Lassiter sat with his hands folded over the table like earlier, tapping his fingers together. He licked his lips, breathed in deeply a couple of times, and eyed other customers suspiciously. As the waitress came by Carlton smiled, but it came out more as a grimace. He actually seemed like he was looking everywhere but at Amelia.

Carlton didn't know what to say, what to think, or even what to talk about. He wasn't much for conversation starters, and was hoping Amelia had some of Amy's qualities in that area. Finally, a distraction! The waitress came up to the table smiling like O'Hara, even on a bad day. Damn, that woman really needs to pop her happy bubble and to take her overly cheery self away from this damn table! Trying his best to look like he gave a damn, this time his grin came out more as a scowl.

"Hi, I'm Shirley and I'll be your waitress this afternoon. Can I get you both something to drink?" Shirley asked, resoundingly smacking her gum. The popping sounds were already stabbing at Lassiter's eardrums. And oh, god, she's a gum smacker! Does this woman 'NOT' know how damn irritating she is?! In a way, he was just using this waitress as a diversion from his new companion.

"I'll just have a coffee, three creams and four sugars," he spoke with a leveled tone.

Amelia raised her eyebrows at Carlton's response. "I'll have some chocolate milk, please." As the waitress walked away she observed Carlton again. "You know that's bad for you, right?"

Carlton only rolled his eyes in return. "Yeah, I've heard it a million times. If I'm going to die young, I'm going to enjoy myself before it happens." Realizing what he had just said, he mentally kicked himself, cursing under his breath. "Uh . . . what I meant was . . . ah . . . I'm sorry, Amelia," he blundered out.

Looking just a little crushed, Amelia answered, "It's all right. I know what you meant. I won't take it to offense." Beside her, Amelia grabbed her teddy bear for some comfort, holding him in her lap. For the next couple of minutes she stared down at her menu in silence, hugging her bear close with both arms wrapped around him. It was like that until the waitress came back with their drinks. Amelia grabbed a crayon, drawing on her children's menu as they both ordered their food.

Unnerved once again by the silence that seemed to follow him so far, he tried to make conversation, feeling really shitty for saying what he had. But before he could even utter a word Amelia interrupted his thoughts. "That guy over there is about to leave without paying."

"What?" Carlton asked, confused.

"He's about to run out without paying," she pointed at a young looking guy, wearing a green cap.

"How do you know that?" Carlton asked, taken aback.

"Well . . . he keeps looking at the door then back at the workers, like he's about to run or planning something."

"That's ridiculous!" Lassiter exclaimed.

"Fine, don't believe me," she muttered.

Carlton sucked in a long breath of air, stood from his seat and confronted the man. Well, he does look a little suspicious. Blocking the door, Carlton shot the man a death glare. The man shoved his hands in his pockets, stuttering,"Ex . . . . excccuu . . . excuse me sir, " trying to pass Lassiter.

Lassiter continued to glare like an angry tiger ready to strike. "I'd advise you to go back there and pay or I might have a reason to arrest you." Lassiter flashed his badge in the man's face.

Shakily, the man turned right on his heel in the direction of the cashier, paid for his meal, and then rushed out with his tail between his legs. Lassiter only grinned cockily, happy with immense satisfaction, then seated himself back at his rightful table.

Amelia watched, immersed in his police business. It was really cool for her to see him in action, even though he technically wasn't 'on the job' today. "You do know it is your day off, right?" she questioned.

Carlton grinned giddily in response. "Yeah, I know, but it's still fun to harass criminals and scare the pants off of them." He almost sounded like a little boy in a candy shop. After basking in his glory, he suddenly realized something very important. "You know, you're pretty observant for a seven year old."

Amelia's only response was a smug self-satisfied grin, usually sported by none other than Carlton Lassiter—that was, whenever he solved a case or proved Shawn Spencer wrong. This time around, they both stared at each other with matching grins and a conceited cloud hanging over their heads. Something they both were able to share was a sense of pride.

Carlton reached into the small bowl brought by Shirley and began to pour sugars and cream into his coffee. Amelia placed her bear back in his sitting position alongside her in the booth. She silently stirred her chocolate milk, sipping every once in a while through the straw, also blowing bubbles into her milk.

"So what does a police officer do?" Amelia questioned, interrupting his process of mixing his oh-so-sweet-sugary-satisfaction-of-goodness that kept him going on days like these.

Silently stirring his little concoction of coffee, he took a sip, finally pleased with the taste then proceeding to open his mouth in a response. "We put the scumbags of the world behind bars so they face the wrath of 'Sweet Lady Justice!' Carlton announced excitedly.

For a split second he forgot he was talking to a child and attempted to correct himself, yet again—wearing a self-conscious look. "Uhh . . . what I mean is . . . we put the bad guys in jail."

Satisfied with the answers, Amelia giggled at his awkwardness, continuing to blow bubbles into her chocolate milk.

Trying to rid himself of his own discomfort Carlton tried to change the subject. "What else do you like to do other than drawing?"

Thinking really hard, Amelia didn't know. "I really like to do anything, I guess. Me and Mommy didn't do too much. She always wanted me into school, working hard and doing my homework. But when we did do things it was fun. We usually always drew and plant flowers. She loved planting flowers! Can we plant flowers!?"

Though he was taken aback by her request, Carlton remembered how much Amy loved flowers. He remembered roses were her favorite. Especially the blue ones, that had to be specially dyed. But he mumbled out anyway, "Uh, sure." For a moment he paused, not sure where to go with this conversation, then an idea popped into his head. "Do you like fishing? I love fishing! We can do that if you want."

"I never tried it before, but I want to. Can we do that today!? That'd be fun!" After that, she went back to blowing bubbles.

It was hard for him to understand Amelia's abrupt, blunt requests. Was she really trying to piss me off!? Carlton considered.

Instead, he tried to ignore the annoyance. Carlton was more than thrilled Amelia was interested in trying the things he liked to do. "Of course. We'll go when we're done eating. The fish usually should be biting around this time of day."

For the millionth time today more silence commenced. Amelia observed the activity of the restaurant, while also stealing glances at Lassiter every now and then. The only thing heard was the hustling and bustling throughout the small, small 3200 square feet of space: customers in conversation, the cash register pinging open with a Ka-ching! sound, the chef ringing the bell for orders, waitresses mumbling about not getting enough tips, untamed children wandering about, the clinking of glass and utensils, and the hungry sounds of people chowing down on their long awaited meals. Carlton really wasn't that great at this whole keeping-a-conversation-going thing, and he hoped the awkward stillness every time he tried to speak wouldn't always be there.

"Did you know your name, 'Amelia' means 'hard working', 'eager', and 'beloved'?" he all but blurted out. Where in the hell did that come from, Carlton?

Amelia looked up, intrigued. "Really?! Did . . ." she paused, almost afraid to say what she was thinking, ". . . did you and Mommy pick out the name?"

Carlton's breath caught in his throat. He blinked several times, then spoke, "We, uh . . . we'd discussed it a couple times way before you were ever born. You know . . . your mother . . ." Carlton gave a small smile, before continuing, "That's what I really loved about her. She had this glow about her that set her apart from others. She also really liked strong historical female characters. She was definitely a history buff as much as I am, that's something we did share in common."

Amelia began blowing bubbles again into her chocolate milk as she contently listened. She was so into what Lassiter was saying she almost didn't even realize what she was doing. "Her favorite that she always spoke about and had me watch endless documentaries on was Amelia Earhart." At the sound of the name she flipped her head up away from her cup, with the straw still hanging between her teeth. Cold droplets of liquid littered Lassiter's face and casual button up. Not only did the chocolate milk splatter him, but as she gasped in surprise the remaining milk in the straw was spit back out as well. Upon being sprayed with this sticky, brown, chocolaty substance, Lassiter closed his eyes and counted to ten. He was intensely exasperated and didn't know exactly how to respond. He licked his lips in frustration, also tasting the milk.

Amelia looked on with shocked eyes. Her mouth hung open—the straw already gone, while she cracked a wry smile. "Oops," she calmly stated. "It was an accident. It's just Mommy used to talk about her all the time, but never actually told me that's how she got my name. I . . . I didn't mean . . ."

Carlton's remark cut off her apology. "It's a good thing I like chocolate milk, because that wouldn't have ended well."

"What?" Amelia asked, surprised.

"It's OK, it's only chocolate milk. It won't kill me, I promise." Shit! I said die again! Didn't I?! Carlton grabbed some napkins, wiped at his face, then dabbed at his clothes. Amelia just sat there, gawking. Phew! Ok good it didn't have the same effect as it did before.

"Now where was I? Amelia Earhart, right. She was one of the early female pilots in aviation history. Her last flight ever was an attempt to fly around the world. No one had ever done it but she had wanted to be the first." Lassiter realized the odd look Amelia was giving him. "What?" he inquired impatiently.

"It's just . . . well, you didn't get angry and I thought you'd get angry. I guess Mommy was right. Deep down you're a cuddly teddy bear."

"Excuse me?" Carlton warily asked, afraid of the explanation.

"Mommy said you were like a cuddly teddy bear on the inside, but on the outside you try to be all gruff and tough."

"And Amy told you this, why?!" Lassiter had a horrid look on his face.

"She thought that I should know these things. I said before, she used to tell me so many stories about you."

"You know, forget I ever asked. Now back to your namesake."

"What's a namesake?" Amelia interrupted, bewildered.

"It's a title given to someone. It's like a nickname or a label," Lassiter tried to explain.

"So, you mean it's my name?"

"Yeah that's about right. It's just a fancy word for, name." Amelia showed her teeth, thrilled her father was guiding her and answering all of her questions. Her mother used to spend hours studying for spelling tests, and this was like a reminiscent, of the past.

"Going back to your namesake, Amelia was really a strong, successful pioneer for women." Lassiter gave her a fixed glare as Amelia let out a big wide smile. Lassiter continued to glare and this time Amelia stifled a couple giggles. Lassiter's glare soon became a smirk. Trying very hard to hold as much as he could in, he grabbed his coffee taking a sip. Amelia's face turned red as she snickered under her breath. Carlton tried to hide his grin with his cup, taking another sip. All of a sudden Amelia burst into laughter. Not being able to hold back instead he snorted in reply, coffee 'almost' sputtering from his nose, but 'had' indeed succeeded in escaping his mouth and splattering across the table. He carefully set his coffee on the tabletop as they both doubled over with hysterics.

"That was so funny! The chocolate milk was all over your face!" Amelia chortled out.

"Ahahaha! Oh, god, wow, that was hilarious! I haven't laughed like that in a long time," Carlton chortled out with amusement, holding onto his side. It took some moments for the both of them to catch their breaths.

Still giggling in between every couple of words, Amelia said, "I still want to hear what you have to say though. Can you continue the story?"

Still breathing hard from laughter, he continued anyway. "Yeah, of course. You know, Amelia Earhart reminded me so much of your mother in ways. Earhart would never, ever allow anyone to tell her she couldn't accomplish what she had put her mind to. She paved the way for the women of her day to realize that if they were determined and confident, they could succeed. That's how I saw your mother."

"What do you mean that's how you saw Mommy? Was she really brave? Could she be a hero and slay dragons like a warrior princess?"

Carlton chuckled. "You have such a vivid imagination. Just like Amy. She was strong and never took no for an answer. She had equal parts of sweetness and street smarts,and would never let anyone belittle her. Like anyone else, she had her good and bad sides, but what I admired most about her was her intelligent and fierce determination for whatever she put her mind to." Carlton paused for a breath, getting frustrated with his thoughts.

His mood gradually changed from pleased to disappointed. "I . . . I hadn't seen her in such a long time, but I still miss her . . . and I really wish I could've seen her before . . ." He looked into Amelia's twin blues seas, scared to talk about Amy's death in front of her, knowing it would hurt. "Well . . . before 'it' happened."

Out of nowhere Amelia placed her small hand on top of his big hand, while his palm was laid out on the table. "Mommy misses both of us. I know it. She really loves you. She told me that the two most important people in her life were me and you, and that she would never stop loving us no matter what."

Carlton gave a heartfelt laugh."You know, you remind me a lot of her. You seem so put to together and so sure of yourself at times. And you're really smart for your age. The things you pick up on are incredible." They both stared into the other's lost blues eyes, both seeming to want to speak, but being unsure of how to say it or what to say in the first place.

"Alrighty! Everything is all done," the waitress exclaimed, interrupting their trance. She placed a plate of pancakes in front of Amelia, politely asking, "What kind of syrup would you like, Hun?"

"Blueberry is fine," she smiled, thanking the waitress.

As she placed a huge burger and fries in front of Lassiter, he actually gave the waitress a real grin instead of a glower. Maybe having Amelia around really would make a huge impact on his life.

After they were both done with their meals, they waited for the check. Amelia began drawing again on her menu. She scrunched her face as she tried to make the perfect turtle. Not succeeding, she turned to Lassiter, "Uh, how do you make a turtle?" Thinking about it for a second, he grabbed the green Crayola crayon from her and began drawing. "Oh, wow, that's really good!"

Carlton smirked. "I kind of like to draw sometimes. I used to do it a lot when I was your age. It's kind of comforting when I'm down . . . but don't tell anyone." Amelia smiled back nodding her head.

She took the green crayon back from him, and attempted to draw her own turtle. Above it, she wrote her name. Amelia Lassiter.

Carlton glanced over as she finished the drawing and began to write her name above it. His facial features froze in a stunned expression as his mouth went dry. His thoughts were suddenly moving a million miles a second. "Bu . . . bu . . . you . . . oh, my god! . . . You have my last name!?" he blurted out. He stared at the paper that read Amelia Lassiter.

"Mommy said even though I never met you, she wanted me to have your last name. I thought you already knew that."

"Bu . . . but . . . how . . . how could she?" he said with a slow whine, feeling his undigested burger shift in his stomach. Bile rose up his throat as it burned his esophagus. ". . . How could she not tell me? Why did she do it? . . . I just don't get it."

Amelia's little face scrunched in concern frowning at Carlton, "I don't know. Mommy just said that you would be happy if I had your name, and that even though I didn't know you I could still have a part of you with me."

Stunned, Lassiter still couldn't believe the words he was hearing. "But she . . . she gave you my last name," Carlton repeated more to himself then Amelia. He was really glad he was sitting down this time, because he felt like he would have toppled over like a row of dominoes. It felt like a trick: with one touch, pieces that were beginning to fit together fell apart in a huge blithering mess. He had a suspicion that things may only get worse. He pulled himself together, hoping to brace himself for the next rough blow.

Gaping at Amelia, with confusion written all over his face, the waitress decided—once again, now was a great time to interrupt them. "Here's your check, sir. You're all set, if you need anything else before you go just holler." With a smile the waitress left.

Groaning his irritation, Carlton rubbed his forehead for the hundredth time that day. "Why don't you grab your bear? I'm going to go pay." Doing as she was told she followed behind Lassiter to the register. As soon as he put his wallet away, putting his hands to his side, Amelia reached out for Carlton's hand again. Shrugging, he gripped her hand, uncomfortably walking out to the car.

"His name is Jack," Amelia revealed.

"Huh?" Carlton asked, confused.

"You said to grab my bear. His name is Jack," she repeated simply.

"Oh," he said, hesitant. She's opening up to me! He screamed internally. Well, if she didn't tell me this information before, and she's sharing it now. That must mean that the bear means a lot to her. That she's telling me his name because Amelia trusts me. Realizing Amelia was looking up at him waiting for a response, he put his inner monologue on pause. "Oh, uh . . . that's a great name!" He grinned almost as if on cue. She beamed back with a matching grin.

Amelia was excited that Carlton liked her teddy bear. Yay! Daddy likes Jack! she shouted in her thoughts.Her bear was very close to her. It was the only thing she really had left that was a part of her mother. "Now we get to go fishing Jack!" Amelia yelled out, hugging her teddy bear.

* * *

It was afternoon, while the sky shone a bright pink hue. The water wavered in blue tides. The ocean wasn't calm, but it was not rough either. The wind sprayed a mist into the air, as bursts of water crashed into the rocks. Heavy shoes clanked against the pier, as a little pitter patter echoed behind.

Lassiter carried two fishing rods and a tackle box. Behind him, Amelia followed, holding a small box of worms—used for bait. Lassiter convinced her to leave Jack in the car, because he might get dirty. Amelia skipped in excitement when she caught up alongside Carlton. They came to a halt next to a bench on the pier, setting their belongings on it. He set up his line and cast it into the water. Setting it aside in a hole in the railing, he grabbed Amelia's rod. "OK, hand me a worm," he said.

Happily reaching into the box, Amelia dug her hands through the watered down muck of clay and dirt as if to make a mud pie. The worms' sludge stuck to her fingers as she burrowed through, picking out the best one. Carlton cringed at the way she handled the box of worms.

"It's fun to get dirty and slimy!" Amelia thought delighted. She handed him the worm and he stabbed it with her hook.

"Does the fish eat the worm?" Amelia asked curiously.

"Yep, this is how you trick the fish to get on the hook. He sees the food and then he goes after it. OK, come here." Setting the rod aside, he grabbed Amelia and set her onto the bench. "Up you go."

Her gooped up hands squeezed his shoulder for support. Carlton winced, taking in a big breath to avoid yelling at her for touching her shirt. He let it slide, knowing it could be washed later. Amelia stood on the bench to see the ocean spread out over the railing. "Oh, wow, this is so pretty!"

Carlton was reminded of Amy's ability to see beauty in many mundane things through Amelia's wonderment staring at the open sea. He noticed the sun glistening down on top of the water in between ripples. He hadn't ever actually taken notice before but it really did look like a beautiful sight. I guess the small things in life are really starting to count. That is what's really important in life. At least that's what Amy always told me. Little things like patience, virtue, and sunsets. Just letting your guard down every once in a while and seeing what god's green earth holds for us.

Shaking himself out of his reverie, he got the other rod and handed it to Amelia. "OK, I'm going to show you how to cast. I want you to hold onto the pole right here." He placed her left hand at the bottom on the handle, and then took her right hand and placed it above her left, closer to the reel. "Now you pull back the bail and then I want you to place your index finger onto the fishing line like this." He demonstrated with his own hand. She moved the finger of her right hand to pull the line back a little, placing her index finger to hold it down. "Then you're going to cast it, which will propel your line forward. As you bring it behind make sure no one is there so you don't catch them with the hook, understand?" Amelia nodded. "When you bring the rod forward, raise your arm to about a 45 degree angle and throw the line out. At that same time, I want you to let go of the line, which is the string you're holding right now. When you let go the bail is going flip. Do you have all of that?"

Processing it for a minute she nodded, concentrating on what she had to do. Carlton got behind her on her left side, and put his large hands delicately onto the pole on her hands. "OK, ready? When I say "go", were going to cast the line together."

"Mhmm," she murmured.

"One . . . two . . . three . . . Go!" They pulled the rod back, then flung the line forward. The pole wobbled in the wind.

"Now let go!" Carlton called out when the rod reaches the railing. Obeying his words, she let go, watching in fascination. The line wavered in the wind, flying through the air. The forgotten worm coiled on the hook whipped in the current of air before its last breaths were taken out with the sound of a soft splash. The line landed into the sea, sinking into the murky depths below.

Amelia's head shot up in exhilaration, her delight overrunning her sense of mobility. She stepped back excitedly, losing her footing at the edge of the bench. She gripped the rod as if it could hold her up, but she and the rod fall back, landing heavily into Lassiter's arms.

"Whoa! Jeeze, don't hurt yourself." Luckily Lassiter had been standing behind her all along. "Amelia, please lean forward against the railing. I think I have a better chance of you saving you from falling into the water than you smashing your head on the ground. I'd feel a lot safer if you did that."

They both stood quietly for some time staring out into the water, watching the waves. "So, what kind of things do you like to do?" Amelia questioned.

"Hmm . . . let me see, well, I like to do Civil War reenactments. We have one every year with the department . . . Uh . . . I like to watch Cops." Lassiter paused, feeling like he and Amelia would never have anything in common. "I don't really know what I like to do . . . I don't think I'm really much fun. I really don't have too much in common with many people . . . I guess it's because I kind of keep to myself." Lassiter knitted his brow, shrugging, "I don't know."

"Oh . . . well, I guess watching cop movies and stuff is cool. I have weird interests too . . . like, I like flowers, and ice cream, and robots, and video games, and race cars, and dolls, and pictures, and water guns. I love water guns! Can we have a water gun fight!?" Amelia requested.

"You like water guns, really?" he yelled, thrilled to hear this. "That'd be great! I like to use my Glock .17. It's a 9mm short recoil-operated locked breech semi-automatic pistol that uses a modified Browning cam-lock system. It's made from Polymer 2 which is resistant to shock, caustic liquids, and extreme temperatures. They are small but resilient. What I like most about them is that the Glock barrel is made with a specific machine to create its hexagon shape. As a result, it's more efficient in the use of the combustion gases behind the bullet, has greater consistency in velocities, increased accuracy and ease of maintenance. I love the safety feature; it's a triple safety system that secures the firearm: an external trigger safety, and two automatic internal safeties—a firing pin safety, and a drop safety. The safeties are systematically disengaged one after the other when the trigger is squeezed and then automatically re-activated when the trigger is released. When you're old enough, maybe I can teach you how to use a real gun, or maybe a paintball gun."

It wasn't until his wild tangent rant was over that Lassiter finally comprehended Amelia looking up at him dumbly. Her mouth gaped open and her eyebrows were raised in puzzlement. Mentally slapping himself, he remembered he was talking to a seven year old about this. Right, she's only a little girl, I'm so goddamn stupid!

Amelia noted Carlton's change in expression, how he looked kind of upset so she decided to cheer him up. "You can protect me from all the monsters and bad guys since you know so much about guns." He was ranting on about what he liked most, and just because she didn't know what he was talking about didn't mean she had to hate it. She liked learning new things and she really didn't want to upset him.

Lassiter smiled warmly at Amelia. He was never really good with kids, but this little girl was really something. Amelia was quickly beginning to grow on him, but he wouldn't deny that caring for a child would be the hardest thing in his entire life he would ever had to do—even more tiring and complicated than when he was going through the Academy.

Abruptly, Amelia's line snagged, pulling on her pole. The rod dragged her forward against the railing, and Lassiter grabbed her from behind before she could take a dive into the water. "You got a fish!" he exclaimed. "Here, grab the reel and I'll help you reel it in." Grabbing onto it very enthusiastically, Amelia started turning the reel with Carlton. "Bring it in nice and easy. You don't want to rush or he might get loose and we'll scare him away."

Carlton was eager, but gradually brought the line back in. He lifted the pole and the small, 6 ounce pike dangled before Amelia as he pulled the fish off of the hook. "Hey, you caught your first fish!"

Amelia asked fervently, "Can I hold him?"

"Of course you can." He handed the fish to her and she grabbed it with two hands, delighted to feel its scaly skin as it tried to wiggle free. "He's all slimy!" she laughed. "Can I take a picture with him?"

"Uh . . ." Carlton searches around for a camera, coming up with his camera phone. "OK . . . uh, say . . . 'freeze'."

"Freeze!" Amelia screamed out, laughing at his use of words as he snapped a shot.

"OK, now you have to throw him back in the ocean."

"We don't get to keep him?" she asked, disappointed.

"No, we can't. He won't survive out here. He can't breathe in our air, because he has gills and to fish the water is their oxygen."

"So you mean it's like how we can't breathe under water?"

"Exactly. You better throw him back before he stops breathing. I'm sure he wants to go home to his family."

Worried, Amelia jumped up on the bench, quickly throwing him out into the deep blue sea. "Hurry up, fishy! Go home to your mommy and daddy! I'm sure they miss you . . . like my mommy misses me."

That was the first time since Carlton heard her let something slip about her mother. He could hear some hurt in her voice but it wasn't much. She was really bottling it all up and he knew at some point she would break. That's what he was mostly afraid of. He didn't know how he would deal with her breakdown. He was scared of when it would happen and how it would happen. He just didn't know what to expect.

"Come on, let's get you cleaned up so we can go get some ice cream." Carlton figured that would cheer her up since she mentioned she loved ice cream. She was thrilled, and grabbed the box of worms, hurriedly running in front of Carlton back to the car.

* * *

The walls Kilwins Ice Cream Shoppe had been painted in pastel colors mainly to welcome families, large and small. Amelia immediately ran towards the rows of ice cream that included Superman, Cookie Dough, Cake Batter, Chocolate Chip, Mint, Butterscotch, Cherry and a plethora of many others. There are so many colors and flavors to choose from! she thought. "I want Mint, is it ok if I get Mint?" The worker waiting on them looked to Lassiter for reassurance.

"Yeah, go ahead, and I'll get Cookie Dough. Both cones, too." This was really going to add to his sweet tooth. He was already craving the sugary, milky mess just staring at it through the glass.

"Can you put sprinkles on that too, please?" Amelia politely added.

Amelia intently watched the worker put together the ice cream. She also surveyed his dress attire. He seemed about seventeen years old, a surfer punk that loved getting into trouble. His messy hair was medium length and dried with sea water, making it look greasy. He wore a shark tooth necklace dressed in the shops' uniform. She could also tell he was wearing sandals by the sound of them flopping as he walked. He scooped her ice cream, adding the sprinkles and handing it to her over the counter. Next, he used the same scooper to scoop out Lassiter's ice cream into his cone. Amelia watched closely and saw this happen right in front of her eyes.

"Excuse me, sir, but you didn't wash that scooper thing."

"Look, it's not a big deal," the surfer guy declared. His name tag read 'Eli'.

"Unless you want my daddy to arrest you, then it's definitely a big deal!"

"Amelia!" Lassiter groaned, trying to stop this at once.

"But, he was going to hurt you," she pleaded with sad eyes.

"Huh?" both Carlton and Eli inquired at the same time.

"You're allergic to mint, and he scooped your ice cream after mine without washing it."

"Oh . . ." Lassiter said, raising an eyebrow at the Eli.

"Dude! I'm sorry I didn't know that."

"But you still should have washed it out anyway." Amelia scowled at Eli, giving him a death glare only seen on Lassiter's mug in the process of interrogating a criminal, or thrown at Spencer when he was annoyed with his antics. For a seven year old, she was pretty fierce and scary.

"Amelia, the kid didn't know . . . wait, how did you know I was allergic to mint?" Carlton asked, baffled by the things she knew and kept spewing out.

"Mommy told me." She gave an innocent smile. Lassiter could already see the halo above her head and the ray of sun shining across her features.

Carlton's scrunched his face tightly, sighing heavily. He brought his two fingers to his face and tapped his forehead roughly, pursing his lips. His annoyance grumbled within him; he decided to say something now. "We really need to have a talk about what all your mother has told you about me." Amelia only giggled in return as Lassiter scowled displeased at the worried server staring at them dumbly. "Just finish the damn ice cream before it melts." Eli clumsily threw the ice cream in the trash, washed the scooper and made Lassiter a new one.

Outside, Amelia happily licked her ice cream from all angles before it even had a chance to slide down the cone.

Carlton, thought still annoyed, enjoyed his ice cream nonetheless—by quickly devouring it. He wiped his hands clean with a napkin and disposed of it in the trash bin. He started for his car immediately with Amelia in tow, but stopped short, Amelia almost bumping into him, as a thought occurred to him. He spun around and snapped at her, "You are not eating that in my car, because I swear to god if I find even a drop of ice cream on my pleather finished seats, there will be consequences for your actions."

Amelia, undaunted, immediately retorted back, "It's not nice to swear to god."

To limit himself from yelling at her again or worse, hitting her, Carlton limited his comeback to him slapping himself in the face, intensely rubbing at his temple then ruffling up his hair in irritation. "Just please finish your ice cream . . . quietly."

Amelia zipped her mouth shut and threw a fake key over her shoulder.

Oh, she has sarcasm. How great is that!? Carlton cynically told himself. She's definitely going to be a handful. From Carlton's peripheral vision he could see Amelia sticking out her tongue mockingly. He rolled his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose and taking in long satisfying deep breaths of fresh air.

* * *

That night, it poured cats and dogs. To complete the day they opted for a movie night. Friday the 13th had been chose; it perfectly went with the horrid weather outside. Of course, only Lassiter would pick a non kid appropriate movie, but he had enough smarts to fast forward through the so called 'non-appropriate' scenes. In reality, the entire movie was non-appropriate. But Lassiter was exposed to violence everyday of his career and subjecting Amelia to a movie like this was just, in his wise opinion, teaching her what kind of psychos were out there. Amelia curled up in her blanket staring at the TV screen. The eerie Friday the 13th music played in the background as Jason burst into the shot, stabbing a girl. Startled, Amelia leaped across the couch, cornering Lassiter and invading his space. One thing Lassiter didn't think through before putting on this movie was how scared she might be, and how close she might decide to get.

Amelia was frightened. That was the only word to describe it. Daddy had told her that she could learn from this movie, and see what kind of crazy people were out in the world. She really liked the movie too, but her daddy had fast forwarded through a lot of parts. So maybe when she was older she could see why. I hope the Boogie Man doesn't live under my bed? Or any monsters live in my closet? she pondered after seeing Jason lurking around corners. But Daddy would scare them away with his guns, and then arrest them! As another scary part came on, she clung to Carlton like a caterpillar to its cocoon. Her father seemed to tense a little but later relaxed, getting used to the contact.

As the credits rolled by, Carlton looked down, noticing Amelia had fallen asleep with her head resting on his chest. He gazed at her for a minute then picked her up and carried her to her bedroom. He quietly tucked her in, turned off the light and shut the door. Behind him, he could hear the rain washing over the house in a calming effect as a roar of thunder droned out his thoughts.

Finally in his own bedroom, he laid down, exhausted from the long day. This is more tiring than arresting criminals every day. I don't think I've been this exhausted in a long time. A flash of light filled the room and a booming sound rumbled throughout the quiet abode. The peaceful hum of rain on rooftops echoed in the distance. Unexpectedly, a soft rapping was heard against the door. A small shadowy figure hesitated at the entrance. The moonlight lit the room, while the rain splattering against the window left a jagged design to dance across the form in the doorway. Another bolt of lightning flashed through the room and the shadowy figure jumped in dismay.

"I'm afraid of the lightning," the shadow said.

The day just isn't over yet, is it? Carlton flinched to himself, wondering why it was so hard to be a parent. Why couldn't children be like puppies and obey your every word? Just listen to you whenever you made a point to behave or do as you say? It would make things much easier. Punishing them would be a piece of cake, and they'd just look up at you with sad eyes and say they wouldn't do it again. But with children they looked up at you with sad eyes that made you want to melt, say they would never do it again, then go ahead and throw it right back in your face by doing the exact opposite—ignoring your every word. If this is what he had to go through as a parent he didn't know what he was going to do, except for pull out his hair. Another bolt of light flickered through the room as he saw a frightened little girl cowering in the corner, holding onto her teddy bear for dear life. Seriously?! Do I have to do this? He gave in with a defeated sigh. "Well, what are you waiting for? Come on!"

Amelia purposefully jumped onto the bed, making Carlton shift some on the mattress. He stayed still while she burrowed herself under the covers. Carlton shook his head exasperatingly, and rolled his eyes for the third time that day. Amelia snuggled her bear, drifting off. But before the sandman could take her under, she softly spoke, "I'm glad you're my daddy." Then, fell into a quiet slumber.

Carlton glanced over, watching the rise and fall of her chest. She looked . . . so peaceful. He wondered idly where all those distressing feelings about her mother went. Watching her sleep, Carlton studied some of her features. She had his eyes, and today he noticed she shared a lot of his facial expressions. She definitely had his body language but he could see Amy in her as well whenever she disagreed. Deep down, he felt some sort of comfort with her lying next to him, almost like he had both Amy and Amelia with him. It had been hard finding out he had a daughter, but now he recognized what could only be a pang of happiness in his gut. He could get used to this, but it could take some time. He knew he'd at least try to make her happy—unlike with many other women in his life. Closing his eyes in grief, he sucked in a breath. He just couldn't believe this was his child. He opened his eyes to look at Amelia's sleeping form. Her face appeared angelic in the moonlight, as the rain showering down created a flickering candle effect. Time slowed down, and all he was aware of was how much she resembled Amy. His mouth curved into an upside down frown, and he whispered, "And I'm glad you're my daughter." Turning over onto his back he quickly floated off to sleep, awaiting pleasant dreams.

If you're trying to figure out the twist, chap 2 has a lot to do with the twist ending. Chap 3 is also very significant & begins to reveal a couple things. Yes I know you want more! ;P I will try to update much sooner than I did with chapter 2.