"I'm just saying, Gordon, think of how much better this movie would be if we could cast Jessica Alba? She's like, the hottest woman on the planet right now." Alexander announced, speaking rather upfront with his boss.

Gordo moved the phone to his other ear and shook his head. "No. No Jessica Alba. We have a budget to keep, and we cannot afford to pay her." He sighed and began to scribble on a notebook pad, then raised a brow. "What about Morena Boccaran?"

"Not as hot, not even nearly." Alexander spoke, quietly contemplating the rise and downfall of the newest blockbuster D. Gordon Enterprises was working on. He didn't want to tell Gordo that the idea of doing anything other than what he suggested would be murder for his career. Gordo flipped the page and doodled, waiting as Alex explained himself again. "What about that Jewel Staite girl?"

"Are we trying to recruit the entire cast of Firefly?" Gordo asked impatiently. "Or was that purely coincidental?"

"To be honest, I'm not so sure. What ideas do the idiots in your department have?" Alexander inquired.

"See, this is why I hate working with you, Alex. Everyone I work with is immediately an idiot, even if the idea they come up with is much better than yours. I'm only going to shoot you down fifty more times. No Jessica Alba. My idiots can handle this." Gordo answered. "And you wonder why you only work part time right now."

"Hey, now, I'm like a brother to you. Don't be such a derk." Alex mumbled. "How's Tudjman doing with effects?"

"Marvelous, he's almost done with the green screen and the grafting, I'll have to go down and take a look at it tomorrow. The set is almost complete, too. Sanchez isn't too bad at painting." Gordo replied, checking his watch. He'd hired Miranda and Larry as a married team, knowing that they work better as a team. Lizzie had turned him down because she had bigger dreams. He didn't want to remember her dreams. Miranda hadn't talked to Lizzie since she started using. "Look, if you still want to help me do casting, come by tomorrow around eight, we have a whole list to go through."

"Wicked, I'll be there." Alex announced. "Just make sure your idiots are scarce."

"The idiots will be scarce," Gordo answered before hanging up the phone.

He heard a faint tapping at the door and looked up. Greta was standing there, tall and beautiful. The Swedish woman smiled, her blue eyes twinkling with mischief. It was no secret that Greta and Gordo had quite the affair going. She walked into the room, her ruby red lips twisted into a smile. "David," She murmured seductively, sitting on the corner of his desk. Her skirt was rather short this time, but he paid little mind. "What say you about going to dinner tonight? My brother just opened his restaurant, it's in Manhattan."

Gordo licked his lips. "Oh my, as tempting as that offer sounds…I have plans."

"Plans? With another woman?" Greta sounded defeated. Her lips twisted into a pout. "Don't tell me it's Sanchez again."

"Okay, that was a total accident, and Larry forgave me." Gordo tried to avoid thinking about the time he and Miranda got drunk at the Christmas party and kissed under the mistletoe. He'd rather remember the last time he was in a bed tangled in the sheets with Greta. "Did anyone tell you that you have a body made for modeling?"

"You have. A number of times. So why won't you cast me in a movie?" Greta asked, whimpering softly. "Do you not believe in me?"

He gently touched a hand to the small of her back and kissed her neck. "Of course I believe in you, but if I put you in movies, then I have to fight the public for your affection. I'm greedy; I'd rather keep you all to myself." Gordo responded. "You should go before something bad happens again."

"David Gordon, how many times do I have to tell you that there's a lock on your door for a reason?" She slid from the desk and walked towards the door, her long black stilettos clicking each step. She wiggled her butt for a moment then turned and blew a kiss. "My offer still stands, boss."

"I'll let you know." Gordo replied, laughing as the woman left.

He found it more and more difficult to concentrate on her offer with the prospect of a child living with him. What if she saw and got upset? He closed his eyes a moment, thinking over the possible outcomes. Even if Abby was his daughter, that didn't mean he had to go back with Lizzie. Even if it was what his parents wanted, he knew damn well he wouldn't marry a woman who used drugs. And unless Lizzie could get clean and stay clean, he probably wouldn't consider her at all. Greta on the other hand was beautiful, intelligent, smart, what did he have to lose?

He pondered this a little while longer, scribbling in his notebook. Stop thinking about Greta, he reprimanded himself. He wrote a note and stared at it for a long time. He did still love Lizzie, and Greta was just there for support. He was using her and both parties knew it. But Greta was hoping that he would change his mind about her, even though he knew deep down he never would. He bit his lip and touched a hand gently to the pendant on his neck. "Abby, who are you, really?"

The note stared back at him for quite some time before he gave up. He would need to buy this child clothes, find somewhere for her to sleep in his penthouse apartment, give up dating and sex, and take up cooking and babysitting. Quite the sacrifice to make in one single day. It wasn't as if Lizzie had called and said she was dropping off her daughter and he had to plan accordingly. He quickly scribbled down food to that list and threw the pen at the paper.

Gordo had a propensity to get too caught up in things that weren't meant to get caught up in. He hadn't even noticed Miranda tapping on the door. "Gordo?"

Only three people on the planet called him that name; Miranda, Larry, and Lizzie. He looked up, eyes watery from fighting off tears. "Miranda." He quickly wiped the tears away and gestured to the chair in front of his desk. "Have a seat."

"I have to go back to the set des—" then she noticed his tears and looked up at him with sad brown eyes. "What's wrong? I don't think I've ever seen you cry."

"I thought it would be hard to give up my lifestyle to take care of a kid, but I find it very easy. I feel like what I've been doing since I left Lizzie is wrong, and giving up on her is giving up on me." He sniffed and frowned. "But the other factor is that what if Abby isn't my daughter? What if she really is Ethan's and Lizzie is expecting me to not notice? Would it really be fair of me to give up my lifestyle and make sacrifices for a child that isn't even mine?"

"My son seems to enjoy playing with Abby," Miranda added, trying to change the topic. She crossed her long, thin legs, and smiled softly. "He's been playing with her at the daycare for hours now. Mrs. Albright says that they're getting along very well. Is it really sacrificing anything if the child is beautiful, amazing, talented, and enjoyable?"

Gordo looked up at her and raised a brow. "What do you mean?"

"I would hardly call being a parent a sacrifice. I rather enjoy it. And you don't have to give up Greta, just cut back on the time you see her. Larry and I can always babysit for you. But I don't think Lizzie is lying to you. The more time I spend with Abby, the more I see you in her." Miranda brushed her long black hair behind her ears and frowned. "If you turn her away, that's your prerogative, but make sure you do it with good conscience. Don't send her back home to Lizzie."

"When did Lizzie become such the subject of hate?" Gordo asked hesitantly. "She used to be so loveable."

"And then she found the darker part of Sacramento," Miranda answered. "Ethan offered her something she's always wanted."

"Fame," Gordo concluded.

"A family. Your job always came first to you, Gordo. Family always played second fiddle to your dreams. The only exception was your parents. And that's fine, that's just the single child syndrome. But for Lizzie, it was different. Her family taught her that it isn't just family that plays an important part of your life, and one day you have to let go and move on. If you love Lizzie, make the effort to help her, console her, and help her move on."

"Move on?"

"Ethan left her for an Italian supermodel he met in Vegas. That's why she started using." Miranda replied.

"How do you know?"

"I keep tabs on everyone I knew in high school. I'm just glad it wasn't me that got caught up in Ethan Craft." She smiled sadly. "Larry was definitely the better choice; just like you would have been the better choice for Lizzie. But both of you have changed so drastically, I'm not so sure. Baser instinct may still shine through for both of you, but after seven years, who knows? Perhaps the only driving force either of you have to change is Abby."

Gordo shook his head and stood to stare out the window. Snow began to fall and drift listlessly to the ground. The powder was blown softly about by the wind, tossed carelessly and haphazardly into snow drifts. He stared at his reflection. "I still love Lizzie. I find myself thinking of her every time I see Greta. I will never stop loving Lizzie, but to spring this on me at random and not give me any warning? How do I know for sure that Abby is really mine?"

"A parent knows," Miranda answered casually. She stared at the note on his desk.

Clothes

Room

School

Toys

Food

"What do you mean?" Gordo asked absently, turning to search his best friend for answers. "You mean that you believe Abby really is my daughter?"

"So many people believe she's your daughter, it would almost be a shame if she wasn't." Miranda answered. "She believes it. But maybe she was just raised that way. I think if anything, if she isn't yours, at least let her believe. Gordo, she needs a miracle right now, almost as much as you do. Let this child be the thing that saves you from the edge."

"What edge, Miranda?"

"The one you've been precariously balanced on for four months now, Gordo. The one you've been waiting to dive off of and get lost in. You said you loved Lizzie, yet here you are sleeping with some woman you barely know and hired only for her exotic looks. You have the opportunity to turn your life around not only for your sake, but for Abby's." She smiled brightly, knowing she was the only person in the entire company that could get away with talking to him in such a way. Sometimes Gordo just needed to hear the truth from someone that knew him. "Let Abby have a father. You and I both know damn well that Ethan isn't going to be one."

"What time are you off tonight?" He asked, checking his watch.

"Seven, why?" Miranda asked absently. She was about to ask why he didn't know and then realized he had to verify a schedule for three-hundred-and-seventy-five people. "You want me to pick up Abby?"

"No, I'll go with you to pick up James, that way we can go shopping. Bring Larry if you want." Gordo answered.

"Shopping?"

"Abby needs clothes. All she has is what she came in. I don't want her wearing that in daycare for very long, it might get her the stigma Larry had in high school." Thankfully Miranda managed to beat that out of him when they got married. "Please."

Miranda faked a sigh and frowned. "If I have to, I guess."

"I'll give you that bonus you've wanted for so long."

"Oh, hell yes. Deal."

Miranda huddled into her jacket and waited outside the building for Abby. The small girl came slowly through the ice towards the Mexican woman and frowned when she didn't see her father. Not only had he promised to take her to work and didn't, but he also promised to pick her up and didn't. She was starting to lose faith in the man her mother loved so dearly. James came running behind her and jumped into his mother's arms. "Mama!"

"Hello, James. Are you excited to spend time with your friend tonight?" Miranda asked, shifting the child to her hip, as she looked down at Abby. Abby was standing with her feet crossed, her eyes downcast, her arms wrapped tightly around her tiny body as she shivered. How had Miranda missed that the child didn't have a jacket? She gently set James down and went to the back of her Bronco, digging through boxes for clothes she was going to donate. She handed it to Abby and smiled. "Here; this used to be James', but he's too big for it now. It will fit you. I know it's not girly, but it will keep you warm."

Abby sniffled and slipped into the dark blue jacket, wiping away her tears. "Where's my daddy?"

"He's got to stay a tiny bit later than usual; he's getting something ready for you. We're going to go shopping for you, and then you get to come over to my house and play with James for the night. How fun does that sound?" Miranda tried to smile, but she knew Abby wasn't happy. She knelt down to the child's level and touched her shoulder gently. "Listen, Abby, I know you don't like the situation, but you're asking a man whose lived by himself for years to give up everything. I have no doubt in my mind that you're his daughter, but as long as he does, he's going to do his best to fight you off. Don't pressure him into the daddy thing just yet. Let him work at his own pace. I'll help him."

Abby nodded and smiled at James. "Want to play snowball wars?"

James laughed and hid behind the car. "Of course!"

Miranda sat on the back bumper and watched the snow continue to fall. The neon light went out at the daycare signaling that it was closed. Miranda folded her arms and sighed when she checked her watch. Eight Fifteen pm. Gordo was late. An hour and fifteen minutes late, to be exact. "I swear, Gordon, if this is because of Greta, you're going to get hurt."

Gordo came running towards Miranda's car, sliding on the ice, nearly crashing into the woman. Miranda moved out of the way and caught him before he could fall. Just as clumsy as the older days. She laughed and helped him up. "Sorry I was late; my car broke down a block away."

"And it took you an hour to walk here?" Miranda asked.

That's when she saw the bag in his hand. He held it up and smiled. "I figured Abby might need this tonight, it is snowing pretty hard."

Miranda opened the bag and looked at the cloth item inside. "Gordo, this is a seven."

"Isn't that what size she is?" He asked facetiously.

"No. She's a six. She barely fits into James' old jacket, so she's a six." Miranda shook her head and pat him on the shoulder. "It's okay, though. That just means she can wear it again next year."

Gordo nodded sadly and looked around for Abby and James. "Do you know where the kids went?"

"Oh, yeah." Miranda laughed and whistled. James came running to her side, sliding to a halt in front of her, barely gaining traction in the snow. "James, do you remember who this is?" She asked pointing to Gordo.

"That's your boss! Abby's daddy." He answered, offering his hand to Gordo. "It's nice to meet you again, sir."

She swatted his hand away with a shy smile. "His dad's been teaching him things he shouldn't. Where is Abby?"

"Oh! She's playing behind the car." He ran to the front of the car and grabbed Abby by the arm, dragging her back around to Gordo. "Here's your daughter, Mr. Gordon."

Gordo felt weird hearing the name "daughter", but for some reason it felt right. He smiled at Abby and pointed to Miranda. "She's got my present for you."

Abby looked up expectantly at Miranda and smiled brightly. "Disney princesses!"

"Good choice," he mumbled casually, laughing as Abby slipped out of the dark blue jacket and into the slightly larger pink one with Tiana, Cinderella, and Snow White on it. "At least she likes it." He shrugged. "I need to buy you clothes, are you coming with me to pick them out?"

Abby nodded excitedly. "Can James come with?"

"That was the plan," He smiled a little, kneeling to her level with a tiny smile. "I need to make you feel welcome, remember?"

Abby nodded and smiled. "Are you coming too, Miss Sanchez?"

"Of course, I wouldn't have it any other way." She took James hand and helped him up into the truck and seatbelt in. She lifted Abby into the car beside her son and belted her in as well. "Are you two secure?"

Abby and James nodded with a laugh. "Yeah."

Gordo climbed into the car next to Miranda and buckled his seatbelt with a sigh. "I'll have to call and get my car towed. Thankfully I have another at the apartment complex." The older man looked out the window carefully, thinking that this whole deal with Abby did have a slightly brighter side to it.

"Admit it," Miranda murmured. "She's growing on you."

"It's only been one day, and I've only actually spent time with her for seven hours. I can't really say she's growing on me just yet. But I want to make her feel welcome, that way I don't feel like a complete ass if it winds up in a custody battle." He looked away, staring at the child in the rear view mirror. "It does kind of feel right calling her my daughter, but my doubts still get the better of me. What if Lizzie just put my name on her birth certificate to make Ethan less likely to take the child away?"

"In the same respect, Gordo, why would she tell her child to leave because she reminded her of you?" Miranda countered, driving slowly through the ice. "Your argument is vague. Lizzie turned her away because she felt the child was just like you. She looks like you. She talks like you. She may very well be Ethan's, but I'm not seeing the connection. Look at your baby pictures one day."

Gordo nodded and sighed, leaning back against the chair, feeling welcome for the first time that night. He hadn't had a chance to spend time with Miranda by himself in years. Larry didn't mind them talking, he welcomed it, because he knew Gordo needed the support once in a while. Miranda turned to look at him. "Listen, Gordo. I'm not going to force you into anything you don't want to do. Give it a week or so until Children and Youth contacts you back, and then run from there."

He nodded, eyes still closed. "How did you get so smart?"

"I married a genius." She laughed and stared at him again at a stop light. "I'm glad you and Larry are getting along now."

"We always got along, but the competition never stops." He folded his arms slightly, shaking his head. "Miranda, do you think Lizzie can change?"

"I believe so. I don't feel like she's too far gone to fix this mess. Gordo, the more important question is; is your love strong enough to support her if she can?" The woman brushed her long black hair back again, turning to look at him fleetingly. "It's not easy to go back once you've been using. It's going to take every ounce of willpower she has. And if you want to be in a relationship, weather for Abby's sake or your own, then you need to support her and help her overcome her addiction."

"I'm not sure where I stand right now," He admonished lightly. "I feel like I finally find my way out of the hole and then someone throws me a shovel and tells me to keep digging."

"Your life isn't that terrible. You've got an amazing company, millions of dollars, a life anyone would envy, and you still feel like you're getting your feet kicked out from under you? That's a poor excuse for anything, Gordo."

"Romantically, I feel like my life just doesn't want to make sense. I never had the nerve to tell her I loved her in high school, I lost her to Ethan, and now I'm losing her again to drugs. Way to make me feel sane. I'm not even good enough for her to quit using." Gordo quietly answered.

"Maybe you are. Maybe you just need to make yourself known in her life. She can't be that far gone. Children and Youth called you at work and asked about her, so they know she's missing from the system. Either someone reported her missing, or it was an oversight on someone's part, but they know she's here without their permission." Miranda answered, looking over at him. His face showed astonishment and that's when she noticed Greta hadn't told him. "You didn't know."

"Greta didn't tell me." He took a deep breath and slunk into the chair. "Great, now she's lying to me, too. So how long until I go to prison for lying to them?" He asked.

"You won't go to prison," She turned the corner and pulled into a parking lot, looking to her best friend of an entire lifetime. "Your name is on her birth certificate, she was going to be sent to you anyway as the next of kin. The only problem is that someone reported her missing from the youth home, and I wonder who it was."

"Maybe it was Santa clause," Gordo answered sarcastically.

"It's October, Gordo."

"Miranda, the fact remains that she's here and I don't know a single thing about taking care of a child. I get through the day by taking care of her like I would take care of myself." He answered.

"That's all anyone can do, Gordo. No one knows how to take care of a child right away, they learn as they go. I didn't know thing one about taking care of James, thankfully Stevie gave me time to learn." She answered folding her arms to the cold as she climbed out of the truck.

"Stevie was only a baby when you were in high school, wasn't she?" He asked casually.

"She's fifteen now, can you believe that? The point is that I had experience dealing with my sister, but you have the downfall with the only-sibling-syndrome. You didn't have opportunities like we did." She turned to open the door for James, gently waking him up. "Come on, Kiddo, we're here."

Gordo opened the door on Abby's side and gently woke her as well, tangling his hand in the seatbelt in the process of unbuckling it. Miranda set James on the ground and came around to help him. "Thanks Miranda."

"For being a genius, you sure do lack common sense," She retorted. "I mean…you're welcome."

Gordo gave a sarcastic smile and took Abby's hand in his own, leading her through the parking garage. "I'm glad you're here to help me, Miranda. I really need it."

Miranda nodded and turned to Abby. "It's either that or have her guess what sizes she is. It's less awkward with a woman around." She picked a tired James up into her arms and held him close so he could rest his head against her shoulder. "You really are hopeless sometimes, aren't you, Gordo?"

"I'd like to think of myself as gracefully aloof to common situations." He answered, staring down at Abby. Now that he looked at her, she did look almost identical to him. She had his eyes, but Lizzie's shape. And then there was the smile that looked almost identical to his. She had not a single trace of Ethan in her. Then again, he could be suffering from projection and imagining those traits were there so he didn't have to feel bad about taking care of a child he didn't know was his. But since several people saw it, he doubted that was the case.

Miranda stopped to look at Gordo, her dark brown eyes raising a brow in curiosity. "Aloof?"

"Yes. Aloof. Like a bumbling idiot. I don't know anything about kids...just that they like toys and hate clothes."

"This one seems to like clothes," Miranda added casually, looking over her shoulder at Abby as she held the door open for them. "But I'm not so sure sometimes. She plays with Barbie's a lot, so I'm guessing she likes dress up."

Gordo looked down at the quiet child and smiled. "Yeah, she does look like that kind of kid, huh?"

Miranda closed the door behind her and led them upstairs to the girl's section of the nearest department store. She set James down and sighed when he began to cry. "James, honey, don't cry. Come on, I'll show you something really neat." She handed him her phone and let him play Angry Birds, then turned to Gordo again. "Now to help you. Unfortunately it's not as easy as handing you a game."

"Life is a game right now," He mumbled as he dug through the racks for something appropriate. He knew now that he wouldn't want this child dressing like Greta. Picking up a dress he looked at it with disdain. "What about this?"

"If you don't like it, odds are she won't either. And it's a sixe fourteen, she's a size six. How many times do I have to tell you this?" Miranda scolded, moving to the other side of the rack and digging through school clothes. She held up a collared blouse to Abby and smiled. "Here, this should work." She handed it to Gordo and continued to shuffle through the racks. "How much are we spending?"

"Money is no object," He answered, following Miranda with a stack slowly growing in his arms. "I'd like to say a grand will be enough, but this place is pretty expensive, so…just enough to get her through her first few weeks of school?"

Miranda looked up at him in shock. "You got her enrolled already?"

"No, but…I thought she could stay in the daycare…?"

"No! That's only for the next few months until she's old enough for school, where is she going to go to school?" Miranda asked bitterly. "Please tell me you've thought about this."

"Where is James going?" Gordo asked.

"He's homeschooled by my parents." Miranda answered. "He does his classes online with my parents via webcam, and gets babysat by Arlie, our neighbor."

"Can't I do something like that for Abby?" He inquired when she threw another shirt onto the pile in his arms. "It seems easy enough."

"No! You can't do that for Abby! She needs a real school, Gordo! Don't force her to be socially inept like you were. She deserves the opportunity to have friends." She shoved him towards Abby and frowned. "Have her try those on."

As Abby was in the dressing room, he leaned against the outside wall and slid down. "This is so complicated."

"I promised I would help you, Gordo, but she's going to need a real school. Look at what happened to you when you were sheltered from people for so long?" Miranda argued, looking at him with concerned brown eyes he wasn't used to seeing. "Give her the chance to be a normal kid."

"Normal?" He asked jokingly.

"Yeah, like you and I were in middle school. Like Lizzie was before the drugs. Give her the opportunity to be a real kid, not a sheltered mess." Miranda spoke confidently. "Try and enroll her in the Carlisle Academy for Young Girls, she stands a better chance there with your wealth."

"I'll call them tomorrow, then."

Miranda went back to the rack and pulled out several preparatory outfits meant for the academy and handed them over the door to Abby. "Try those on, honey."

"Okay, Mrs. Sanchez."

Gordo sat at the kitchen table with bags of clothes and toys piled around him. Abby was staying with Miranda for the night while he assembled the furniture that was delivered while he was at work. He'd disassembled all the stuff in his office and put it in the hall closet or threw it away, and started to hesitantly put together the items he'd purchased and rush ordered. The canopy bed was finished already, delivered the way it was and assembled on the spot, but the dresser wasn't so easy.

Six hours later he'd finished the blasted thing and pushed the furniture against the walls, organizing it carefully. He began to pull the tags off the clothes in the bags and fold them, putting them into the dresser. After a while, he finally decided to move onto decorating. Hanging photographs of Winnie the Pooh characters on the wall, he carelessly moved onto animals, organizing them on the bed.

It finally hit nine in the morning and he lost any interest, falling asleep where he was currently at.

And that's where Miranda found him the next morning when she went to drop off Abby. Abby stood in the doorway, waiting for Miranda to tell her it was okay to go into the apartment. Miranda stood in the doorway to what was once the office and tapped on the door. "Gordo, I always thought Disney princesses were below you."

He coughed and rolled onto his side, falling off of the narrow bed. Blinking several times he stared up at Miranda. "How did you get in? And why am I in Abby's room?"

"I would be willing to bet a month's pay that you're in here because you fell asleep getting it ready for her. And I got in because you gave me your spare key last night." She answered casually, tossing the key back to him. "Abby's in the living room. You might want to compose yourself for work."

"I'm not going," He yawned.

"You have to. You're the head of the company." Miranda countered.

She heard a crash and turned to see if James or Abby were hurt, but both sat innocently on the couch beating each other with pillows. "I'll fix that later," She replied when his mouth opened to speak. "Listen, I know this daddy thing is all new to you, but Abby needs to go to school, and you're not setting a very good example by skipping work."

"I'll call the school right now, actually," He slurred, nearly falling through the doorway as he walked by. Had she not stepped out of the way, he probably would have. He reached for the house phone and dialed the number on the piece of paper by the phone. "Is this Carlisle Prep?"

The woman laughed casually and answered with a yes. "We are indeed, you've reached enrollment services, and how may I help you?"

"My name is David Gordon; I'd like to enroll my daughter, Abigail Christine McGuire for the spring semester. Money is no object."

Miranda slapped herself in the forehead. He really needed to stop announcing that to the planet. She scribbled a note on a piece of paper and held it up in front of his face so he could read it: Stop announcing your wealth before Abby gets kidnapped. HE nodded and waited for the woman to speak again.

"You're in luck. We have six openings for that semester. Abigail, you said?"

He nodded, and then realized she couldn't see him. "Yes, Abigail Christine."

"Date of birth?" The woman asked.

Gordo froze. He didn't know that. He filtered through all of his conversations and did the math. She was six, right? And she was born on his birthday? "September fourteenth, 2005." He paused and thought again. "I think."

"…you think?" The woman asked skeptically.

"She, uhh…well," He tried to think of the words when Miranda held up another note. He read it carefully. "She's kind of adopted; I haven't had a chance to memorize it yet."

"Oh, well," The woman laughed. "That explains the last name, then!"

Hadn't this woman ever heard of a divorced family? He smiled at Miranda and gave her thumbs up. "So it's okay?"

"We'll just need her social security number, and location of birth." The woman replied.

Gordo froze again, the color draining from his face. "Can…I get back to you with that?"

The woman sighed. "As soon as you possibly can, sir, it's incredibly important. And normally I don't bend the rules like this, but you seem like you're in a hurry."

He answered quickly with a thank you and hung up, rapidly dialing his mother's number. Roberta picked up almost as soon as the first ring went through. "David?"

"Mom, what are Abby's birthday, social security, and location of birth?" He asked, crossing his fingers.

"You don't know?" She asked.

"No, am I supposed to?"

"You'll have to call Lizzie, I don't know either. I only know her birthday." Which was a lie, and he knew it. She could have looked into the records from counseling and told him, she just didn't want to do it. She wanted him to contact Lizzie and make amends. "David?"

"Forget it, school isn't that important." He hung up.

Miranda stared at him for a long time, and then frowned. "She wouldn't tell you, would she?"

"She said she doesn't know." He leaned his back against the wall and slid down, holding the phone in his hands as they trembled. He didn't want to have to do this. He'd put it off for so long now, this would only hurt more. He dialed the number with numb fingers and waited for the automated system. He gave his name and waited again.

An older man with a gruff voice answered. "Sacramento County Jail, Alonso speaking, how may I help you?"

Gordo paused and bit his lip, fighting back tears and a rush of memories. "May I speak to Elizabeth McGuire?"

"One moment, please." The man answered.

Lizzie was allowed to accept calls, but only if it was at a certain time of day. Most prisons didn't offer that luxury. She also had a bail of six grand. One that her parents hadn't even paid yet. He looked down at his shoes and waited for her to come on the line. They'd have to transfer her to another room, where the call could be monitored, and wait for her to say it was okay. And even then, she only had twenty minutes at most to talk. Miranda's father had walked him through it before.

Lizzie's voice came over the line, soft as ever. "Hello?"

"Lizzie?"

"Gordo!" She asked shocked. "Where is Abigail? Is she okay? Please tell me you have her!"

"She's with me," He whispered carefully. "I'm sorry I didn't call you as soon as she showed up…it's already been two days." He stared intently at his shoes. "Why did you tell her to come here?"

"She needed someone who would care about her to raise her," Lizzie answered quietly. "I love Abby to death, she's my world…but she needs opportunities, and I can't give her that."

"So you sent her to me?" He asked, voice rising. "I didn't want a child."

"That's not what you told me in 2006!" She shouted. "You said you did!"

A flood of memories came rushing back to him and he began to tremble with tears. She was right, he had said that. He brushed them away and started thinking rationally again. "I want to enroll her in school. What is her social security and location of birth?"

Miranda stood waiting, pen ready, as he repeated what Lizzie had said. "Thanks, I'll call from my cell phone and finish her enrollment, Gordo."

He nodded a thank you and took a deep breath. "Are you clean now?"

"I have to be, I'm in prison." She answered. "It's not easy, you know. You can't just quit."

"Just like you can't just quit being a parent when it's convenient. She loves you, Elizabeth. She speaks about you night and day." He answered. "Mommy this, mommy that, mommy everything. I'm so weak and powerless, you know that? You're a God and I'm a peasant."

"She idolizes me because she's been with me her whole life. Give her time to know you and that will change." She smirked and coughed slightly. "David, you can't just walk away from being a father because it's easy."

"How do I know she's not Ethan's?" He retorted. "How do I know you don't want her to be raised wealthy, so you sent her to me, huh? You've lied to me before, Lizzie! You told me when I found out you were pregnant that she was Ethan's, and then you changed your story to say she was mine. How can I trust you anymore?"

She growled something about responsibilities when the message pinged to let him know there was only five minutes left in the call. "You're a terrible person, Gordo."

"Says the woman who cheated on me and lied about it, then started doing drugs and shoved her daughter off on me. That's real responsible, Lizzie." He shook his head and sighed. "You know what, forget it. I'll raise her, and I'll fight for full custody, even adopt her."

"You can't do that, she's mine!"

"You told me she was mine." He answered, finally catching Lizzie in a lie. "You don't really know, do you?"

Her lip trembled and she started to cry. "I wanted her to be yours, Gordo. I prayed she was."

"She's not, is she?"

"I don't know. I never had her tested. She was too young; it would have hurt her to know. Please don't test her, just let her believe she's yours." Lizzie cried. "She loves you, she tells me every time she calls me that she wants to meet you. She's only ever heard good stories about you; let her keep believing you're that kind man from those stories."

"Either get clean or lose her, Lizzie. Your choice. I'm not taking you back." He hissed before the phone hung up.

He sat on the floor where he'd started out, staring at the carpet the whole time. Flashes of memories passed through his mind. Card games in the library, games they played, the school project where they were married…babysitting Matt…high school prom…the engagement. He put his head in his hands and sighed audibly. Lizzie had lied to him and played his heart the whole time. That made him no better to Greta.

He stood to his feet and stared ahead, bold and confident, knowing that if he really did want custody; it was easy enough to get with her being a user. He hesitantly walked into the living room and smiled as Abby ran to him and threw her arms around him. "Good morning, daddy."

"Good morning, Abby," He answered. "Did you see your room yet?"

"No! Can I?" She ran ahead anyway, and slid through the doorway, eyes wide with awe. "Oh my gosh! Oh my gooossshhh! Disney!"

"What girl doesn't like Disney?" he asked quietly standing beside her. "So you like it?"

"I love it! Thank you daddy!" She jumped up and down and smiled the whole time. "Does this mean I'm staying?"

"We already agreed you were staying," He mumbled casually. "Who said you weren't?"

"You did…last night."

"I was really tired, Abby. I didn't mean to hurt you. But, you know what? You deserve a chance. Just like you gave me a chance." He rubbed her hair and smiled. "Go play, we'll get you to school a little late today."

Miranda smiled at the child, then turned to Gordo and kissed him on the cheek. "You're a great daddy; don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

He stared down at his feet. "What if I'm making a mistake?"

"Mistake?" She asked incredulously.

"What if Abby isn't mine and I adopt her out of spite?" He asked.

Miranda shook her head. "Don't adopt Abby until you've gotten a DNA test first. And if she's not yours and you still want to adopt her, go for it. But don't do anything you might regret later."

"Yeah," He whispered. "You're right."

Miranda smirked. "I know I'm right. I'm always right. I called the school and got her enrolled for you. She'll be starting in the May semester of next year. Expect her to need lots of clothes. I'll drop her off with James in the morning when I take him over to daycare. Did you know there's a school next door to Abby's called Spencer Academy for boys?" She laughed. "Seems kind of odd putting them both together and not having a coed school, huh?"

Gordo didn't see the irony.

"You're upset." Miranda added curiously. "Why."

"She didn't want me testing her. Do you think Lizzie knows?"

"I doubt it, she didn't even know…" Miranda paused. "Do you think she started using before Abby was born?" She asked.

"I'm going to hurt her if she did," Gordo answered, folding his arms tightly around his sides. "I'm not going to have Abby going back to that situation. Blood related or not, she's mine now. Lizzie has a long way to go before she can get her from me."

"Are you ready to stop fearing the name father?" Miranda asked with a sly smirk.

"I'm ready to be the father she wants me to be. I'm not going to turn her away anymore, Miranda. She needs someone, and if Ethan and Lizzie can't be there, I might as well be." He couldn't deny the fact that even if it wasn't his child, it would still kill him knowing she was part of Lizzie. He wanted a DNA test, but promising he wouldn't make it more difficult to deal with the reality of the situation. "I'm ready to be a dad."

Miranda pat him on the back. "Good for you, dad. Now let's get her to school, shall we? You have work."

"Oh! Right." He smiled. "Come on, Abby, you have to go to daycare."

AN: Still running as my favorite. Sixteen pages today, lol. That's a long update. Expect another sometime this week, probably after Christmas. SOD is on indefinite hiatus until I figure out where I can go with it. Read and review. Merry Christmas, Happy Chanukah, and Happy Kwanzaa!