My, ya'll are really excited about this! Well, we decided that ya'll have waited long enough, so here's the next chapter. It took a while to decide where to end it, but once I realized that one ending would likely result in my being stabbed to death with a rusty spork, it was an easy choice. (looks around room nervously.) So enjoy, and please review!

Disclaimer: See previous chapters.

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Michelle smiled as her eldest son held his little sister. She had been home for a couple of days, and already her five sons had more than welcomed the little girl back into their lives.

The baby began to fuss, and she took her back and cuddled her against her chest. "I'm going to go lay your sister down," she announced, and five dark heads of hair nodded.

She walked into the smallest room, smiling at how well it was hidden away from sight. Humming softly, she laid the little girl in the pink crib, then sat down in the rocking chair and watched her looking up at the mobile.

She began rocking in the chair as she watched the little girl. "I am going to take such good care of you, Nicole. I'm going to dress you up and brush your hair..."

Outside, the wind began to howl, and she stood up and walked out of the room, taking care to cover the door again.

She walked back into the living room and looked at her sons, smiling at them before she retreated into her own bedroom to get ready for work.

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They sat in the car, watching the house from the road through the storm. "She's met you. If you go to the door, she'll freak. But she doesn't know me."

Mike glared at the house through the driving rain. "You think Kiska is in there?"

"Yes."

"Do you think she'd hurt her?"

"If we freak her out...yes...but if...if I play her...let her think I'm someone else...maybe..."

"I'm not sitting here in the rain for two weeks while you romance my daughter's kidnapper, Goren."

"It won't take two weeks." He started the car when he saw her emerge from the house, pulling away from the side of the road and watching the rearview mirror as she pulled out of the driveway.

"We don't want her to panic, Mike. We want her to stay calm, to...trust me...If we storm her house...she might very well harm the baby." He made a quick u-turn. "She went the other way."

They followed her down the road.

Bobby studied the building intently for a few minutes. "She can't see you, Mike. She'll know. We-we ought to get a room...and I'll come back here and talk to her."

"I'm gonna lose my friggin' mind, you know."

"Trust me. You can call me. I'm as determined to get your Kitkat back as you are, man. I swear."

They drove down the road to the Holiday Inn they'd passed on the way to Michelle's house and got a room. "Just try to chill, Mike. Call Carolyn. She needs your reassurance. I won't be long."

"Be careful, all right? Your girl will throttle me if anything happens to you."

"I'll be fine. I'll be back soon. Call Carolyn."

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Bobby parked the car and stepped out. He'd removed his tie and unbuttoned the first two buttons of his shirt. He headed into the building.

Michelle smiled at Amy as she carried the car seat through the door. "You're relieved," she said with a smile, and Amy nodded and stepped from behind the counter.

Michelle stepped behind the counter and carefully placed the baby's car seat on the ground, then sat on the stool. A half hour later, the bell rang, and she watched as a tall, dark eyed man walked in. She stood up and smiled at him. "How can I help ya?" she asked.

He returned her smile. "What are your specials?"

She slid him a sheet of paper, then said, "I can have a fourteen inch with your choice of toppings for ten bucks right here in twenty minutes." She nodded toward the chair in the corner. "You can have a seat there if ya like"
"That sounds good to me," he replied, letting his eyes glide over her. "But I think I'll stand, if it's all the same to you."

She shrugged. "All right, suit yourself." She looked him up and down. "What would ya like on your pizza?"

He smiled again. "I'm easy to please," he said with a wink. "Surprise me."

She turned around and grabbed the dough from the freezer. Then she prepared the pizza with practiced ease before sliding it into the oven. As she closed the oven door, the baby began to fuss, and she crouched down in front of the car seat.

The sight of Kiska in her car seat behind the counter hit him like a physical blow but he quickly got it under control. He was careful to stay out of the baby's line of vision. If she saw him, he'd never get away with this and Michelle would be spooked. The quickest way to the heart of a mother, which is what he presumed she thought she was, was through her child.

"Your daughter?" he said, keeping his voice quiet and seductive.

She looked up and smiled. "Yep. Her name's Nicole."

The name sent another jolt into his body, which he was careful to hide from her. "She's beautiful."

"Thank you." She played with the baby's little feet. "She looks like her daddy."

"S-so you're married?' he asked, disappointed.

A shadow crossed her face. "Widowed."

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice soft and sincere.

"Thank you." She cleared her throat and wiped at her eyes. A small smile appeared on her face. "But I have my boys. Nicole here and my boys keep me busy."

"How many boys do you have?"

"Five."

"Six kids? Wow. I...I would love to have a large family."

She smiled. "I'm never bored with them. My husband grew up in a small family, and so did I. We both knew we wanted a big family."

"So you're from around here?"

"I've been living here for almost two years. I live just down the road."

His eyes were warm. "I like your accent. Where are you from...originally?"

"Thank you. And Texas." She stood up and leaned on the counter. "And where are you from? You sure don't sound like you're from around here."

"I'm not. I'm from Chicago."

"Oh." She leaned a little closer. "And what brings you all the way down here?"

"I'd like to say you do," he smiled. "But I'm here on business."

Her lips curved up in a smile. "Business man? Interesting."

He laughed softly. "Not really. But it pays the bills."

She liked his laugh, and it brought her to emit a laugh of her own.

He leaned forward on the counter. "I can...extend my stay...I'm in no hurry to get back to Chicago."

"Really?" she asked, lowering her voice.

"Really."

She crossed her arms on the counter and rested her chin there. "You look like you're the kind of man who'd appreciate a good home cooked meal... But the question is, could you handle four teenage boys and an eight year old?"

He touched her arm tentatively with the tip of his index finger. "I love kids."

She tensed, then relaxed before pulling away. She walked over to the oven and grabbed a pair of oven mitts, then pulled the pizza out of the oven. Giving him a smile, she slid the pizza into a box, then cut it into ten slices. "There ya go," she said, closing the box.

"Thank you. I...I hope you don't think I'm being forward...but...I would like to see you again."

She smiled softly. "I pride myself on being a good judge of character, and you seem like a decent man." She reached out and touched his hand. "I would like to see you again, too."

Turning his hand over, he caressed her hand with his thumb. "What time do you get off?" he asked softly.

"Five o'clock," she answered.

"Can I come by then? Maybe take you to a movie?"

She let out a laugh. "Sorry, sweetheart, but there's not a movie theater around here."

"You choose then."

She thought for a moment. "Why don't you come back here at quitting time. I'll send my boys to a friend's house, and I can make you a home cooked meal."

He met her eyes and smiled. "That sounds great. It's been forever since I've had a good home cooked meal."

A slight blush crept over her features, and she unconsciously ran a hand through her hair. "Good. I think I can find something... enticing."

"Perfect," he answered, his voice husky. Drawing her hand closer, he softly kissed it. "I'm Bobby."

She smiled. "Michelle."

He winked and returned her smile, then laid a ten dollar bill down on the counter. "See you in a few hours, beautiful."

"Bye, Bobby." she murmured.

Another soft kiss to the back of her hand, and he picked up the pizza box and left.

She watched him leave, then crouched down in front of the car seat. "Looks like Mommy has a date," she whispered, touching the baby's cheek.

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He got into the car and backed out of the spot, pulling out of the parking lot onto the road that headed back toward the Holiday Inn. He let out his breath, relieved that Kiska seemed to be fine. Arriving at the motel, he got out of the car and headed into the building. Mike looked up as he came in. "How'd it go?"

"Great. I have a date tonight. Kiska was with her, Mike. She's fine."

"Thank God."

"She's calling herself the baby's mother."

"What's up with that?"

"I have no idea. I'll see what I can find out tonight. Now I need to make a call. I have a buddy in Charlotte who specializes in...reissuing identification. I'm a businessman from Chicago and I need proof of it."

"Do I even want to know?"

"Probably not. But if she goes through my pockets, it won't do at all for her to find my New York driver's license and my badge."

Mike sighed. "I hope you know what you're doing, buddy."

"So do I."

He pulled out his phone and called his buddy in Charlotte.

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The hours went by fairly quickly, with only a few customers coming in. She looked at the clock, surprised when the door opened and Bobby stepped inside right at five.

She smiled as he walked over to the counter, and she said, "Just waiting for someone to relieve me."

"Take your time," he said quietly. "I can wait." He made a point of watching her as she bustled about to finish her end-of-shift tasks.

Ten minutes later, Jake Dalton walked in, and she tossed her apron at him. "Get over here, Jake," she said, picking up the car seat. "I need to vamoose."

Jake looked at the man standing by the counter, and he grinned. "Get out of here, Michelle," he said, playfully popping the apron at her. She rolled her eyes and waved at him with her free hand.

Bobby held the door open for her, praying that Kiska wouldn't give him away. He walked her to her car, waiting while she unlocked it and slid the car seat into the back seat. He smiled at the little girl, unable to smoothly avoid her. "What a beauty, just like her mother," he said sincerely.

"Flattery will get you everywhere," she laughed, opening the driver's door. "Do you want to follow me in your car?"

"Sure."

He glanced through the back window as he passed, concerned that there had been no reaction from Kiska. He was glad she didn't give him away, but she should have had some reaction to seeing him. She always reacted with a happy squeal and reaching arms when she saw him. Now he was concerned. He got into the car and followed Michelle down the road.

Michelle easily maneuvered the twists and bends in the road, until she reached the stony drive of her home. With a smile, she parked the car and climbed out, then opened the door to the backseat.

Bobby pulled in behind her and slid out of the car. He offered to take the car seat.

She looked down at the sleepy child, then handed him the car seat and fished her keys out of her pocket. "Thanks," she said as she climbed up the steps. Overhead, thunder rolled ominously, and she couldn't help but smile. She always loved storms.

He followed her up onto the porch and into the house. In spite of the fact that five boys lived there, the house was neat and tidy. He held the seat so she could take the baby from it and he watched her carry the drowsy baby down the hall, pushing aside a curtain and disappearing past it. He paced the foyer, trying not to appear agitated, as he waited for her to return.

She laid the baby in the crib, then returned to the living room. "Just make yourself at home," she said, motioning to the several couches and chairs.

He walked around the living room, looking at the pictures that adorned the walls and the fireplace mantle. Her boys were handsome, and he smiled at their happy faces. But he noticed that there were no pictures of Kiska around since Carolyn had brought her back to New York. He also saw pictures of Cummings, but none of the husband she lost. He found that curious. But sometimes, loss was so profound, reminders were hidden away until the pain abated. He did understand that. Maybe her loss was recent.

Michelle watched him from the kitchen as she opened the package of chicken and turned the deep fryer on. As the grease warmed, she grabbed a bag of potatoes and dumped a few into the sink, then began scrubbing them.

While she scrubbed the potatoes, she looked out the window and smiled as the rain began to fall in torrents. "It's coming down good," she said, loud enough for him to hear. Then she placed the potatoes on a cutting board and grabbed a knife.

"I see that," he replied. He walked to the kitchen and leaned against the doorway. "I love stormy weather," he commented.

She looked up from her task and smiled at him. "Me too," she said as she sliced the potatoes.

He returned her smile. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

She nodded. "If you want, you could dip the chicken into the flour and set it on a paper plate while I cut these potatoes."

He stepped up to the sink beside her and washed his hands before he began working with the chicken. His mind was working furiously, trying to figure out this woman. "If you, uh, if you don't mind me asking, how long have you been widowed?"

"Almost six months," she said quietly.

"That has to have been rough for you. I'm sorry."

"It was. And thanks. But like I said, I had to keep going, for the kids."

She lost her husband at the same time her brother was killed. That had to have been devastating for her. "I'm sure they miss him, too."

"Yeah, they do."

"How old is the baby?"

Her smile returned. "Eight months old."

"Is she crawling yet?" he asked, smiling at her in return.

"Oh, yeah. The boys think it's the cutest thing in the world."

"I'm sure they do. I'll bet they were thrilled to have a little sister."

She chuckled. "Especially my youngest. He was getting tired of being the baby."

"I know how that goes," he laughed.

"I was worried that they might be jealous, but they all absolutely adore her."

"You must have raised them right, then."

"We did. I just... can't believe he's gone. And Nicole is never going to know him."

Done with the chicken, he washed his hands again and then stepped up behind her. "That has to be hard," he murmured into her ear.

She stiffened her shoulders. "It is. But he wouldn't want me moping like that." She wiped at her eyes, then dumped the potato wedges onto a paper plate.

"Is there anything else I can do?' he asked, his voice soft.

She shook her head. "Thanks, but I don't think there is," she said as she carefully placed the pieces of chicken into the fryer.

Keeping his voice soft, he said, "I'm sure you'll keep his pictures around so the baby knows who her father was. I know I would want that if I had children."

She nodded. "There are pictures of him all over. The boys wouldn't let me take them down."

He frowned for a moment, but chased it away before she noticed. The only pictures of a man adorning the living room were the pictures of her brother. The sudden realization struck him. Her brother...oh, God..."Uh, your oldest...is he named for his dad? I...I always thought it would be a wonderful legacy for a son to be named after me."

"No, actually. His name is Carl, but we call him C.J. The youngest was named for my husband."

He leaned against the counter. "How do you manage five boys?" he asked with a smile.

She outright laughed. "You know, sometimes I don't even know."

"My mother had her hands full with two of us."

"I'm sure. Some days, it feels more like twenty. Like the other day, my youngest boy, Brad, he went outside and rolled around in mud! Then he came into the house and tracked mud everywhere!"

Brad...oh, shit...he swallowed his emotion and managed a light laugh. "I remember doing that," he replied. He also remembered the beating he got for it, but he left out that detail.

"Between you and me, I did it too," she said with a wink.

He smiled. "Mud and kids just go together."

She chuckled. "They must." She carefully lifted the lid of the fryer and retrieved the chicken, placing it on a plate. Then she carefully placed the potato wedges in the fryer.

He looked down the hall. "Was that the baby?"

She set the lid on the fryer, then brushed her palms against her jeans. "I'll go check on her," she said, opening the refrigerator door and retrieving a bottle.

He watched her disappear down the hall and used the time to regroup. She had five sons...and her brother was their father. He wondered if she knew what kind of monster the man was.

She walked back into the kitchen a few minutes later, the bottle half full. "She's sleeping," she murmured, putting the bottle back into the refrigerator.

"She's a good baby."

"Yes, she is."

Thunder boomed overhead, and Michelle quickly pulled the potato wedges out of the fryer, then turned it off. "I wouldn't be surprised if we lost power," she said thoughtfully as she prepared the two plates.

"If I could plan it, we would," he said with a mysterious smile.

She couldn't help but return his smile as she picked up the plates and put them on the table. "I don't have beer, but help yourself to whatever you want to drink," she said as she picked up two forks and sat down at the table.

"You have such good taste, why don't you choose a drink for me?"

She stood up and walked over to the refrigerator, giving him a light push toward the table. Then she opened the door and retrieved two bottles of strawberry soda. "There ya go," she said, handing him one and opening the other for herself.

She sat down in the chair, then focused her light blue eyes on him. "So, you didn't say exactly what it is you do," she said curiously.

"I'm an accountant," he answered. "Like I said...boring."

She smiled. "You're right, it does sound boring," she teased.

He laughed softly at her teasing. "My parents wanted me to have a practical career."

"Ah. My parents weren't very... involved."

"Mine were...too involved sometimes."

She nodded. "When my parents died, I was seventeen. Not quite legal, so I went to live with my brother."

"At least you had someone to go to."

"You didn't?"

His mouth quirked into a half-smile. "No, I didn't."

She frowned and reached out, gently touching his arm. "I'm sorry."

He looked at her hand, moving his to come to rest over it. "Don't be," he soothed. "I turned out all right."

She smiled. "Yes, you did."

Holding her eyes, he returned her smile. "When are the boys due home?"

"They're spending the night at different friend's homes. They like to get out, and I like having some peace and quiet."

"Peace and quiet sounds good," he grinned.

"Yes, it does."

The thunder was getting closer. "Do you mind if I step outside for a smoke? I should make sure I rolled up my car window, too."

She smiled and gently touched his arm. "Go right ahead. I should go freshen up myself," she whispered seductively.

"Sounds like a plan," he answered, touching her cheek.

She smiled and stood up, then disappeared into her bedroom.

He stepped out onto the porch and lit a cigarette. Stepping off the porch, he walked to the car, pulling the door open and going through the motions of rolling up the window.

"It's about damn time."

"The baby's in a back bedroom, about halfway back to the rear of the house. When the lights go out, I'll distract Michelle and you go and get Kiska. Just be quiet, okay?"

"You got it. How's it going?"

"Like a charm. Alex is going to kill me."

"For getting my daughter back? Somehow I doubt it. Just keep your pants on."

"Go to hell, Logan. Oh, I, uh, I think she's giving her something to make her sleep. She's not her normal alert self."

"Damn..."

"Keep your head on."

He closed the door and headed back to the porch, where he finished his cigarette before going back into the house.

She heard him walk in, and she quickly ran a brush through her hair before walking back into the living room. At his dripping form, her eyebrows furrowed, and she quickly reached into a closet and grabbed a towel. Then she walked over to him, gently pressing the towel against his cheek.

He smiled at her, accepting the towel. "Uh... it's raining now," he whispered.

She smiled and allowed her fingertips to trail over the front of his shirt. "I noticed."

He didn't take his eyes from hers, skimming his thumb along her jawline.

She leaned into his touch, then said softly, "You're going to catch a cold if you stay in those wet clothes."

He laughed softly. "I didn't bring along a change."

"That's fine. If you want, give me your shirt, and I'll put it in my dryer."

Without hesitating, he unbuttoned his shirt and slipped it off, handing it to her.

She accepted the shirt, raking her gaze over his strong chest before disappearing into the laundry room.

He let out a slow breath, trying to figure out how he was going to get the lights off and keep her distracted while making sure he kept his pants on at the same time.

Alex would forgive him some making out to distract the woman so Logan could get his daughter, but sex? That was a stretch.

As she returned to the living room, the lights flickered twice, then went out completely, and she yelped when she hit her knee against an end table.

Shit...he wasn't ready for this yet. "Are you all right?" he murmured, close to her ear.

She rubbed her knee and cursed. "Yeah, I'm fine."

He leaned over, seeking her face in the lightning flashes. "Are you sure?"

She nodded and made her way to a couch, falling down onto it. "I'm not very graceful, in case you haven't noticed," she chuckled, rubbing her knee.

He eased himself down beside her. "That doesn't bother me at all," he said softly.

She laughed softly. "Thanks. And it looks like you got your wish."

"So it does," he softly laughed, running his fingers through her hair. "You're beautiful," he added, and it wasn't a lie.

She could feel her cheeks heating up, and she said, "Thank you."

"It's only the truth."

She moved a little closer to him, enjoying the warmth of his touch.

His hand cupped her cheek, and she closed her eyes, her lips parting slightly.

He softly groaned her name and claimed her lips, kissing her hungrily, hoping to take her breath away and overrun her senses. Mike had better hurry the hell up. He wasn't going to do this all damn night.

She allowed him to deepen the kiss, her hand rising to cup the back of his neck.

And he lost himself in the role.

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Outside in the rain, cursing everything under the sun, Mike found the window halfway to the back of the house. Hoping the noise of the storm and whatever Bobby was doing in the living room would be enough to cover him, he slid the window open and heaved himself over the ledge, into the baby's room. He found the car seat easily enough when he whacked his shin on it. Moving more carefully, he found his way to the crib. Gently lifting his baby in his arms, he pulled his jacket around her and zipped it up. Tossing the car seat out the window, he followed it, cradling the baby against him as he dropped into the mud.

Moving quickly, he tossed the car seat into the car and pulled out the keys Bobby had given him. He looked at the house. "Thanks, pal."

Sliding behind the wheel, he hoped Bobby knew what he was doing and could get away unscathed. He was a pretty damn convincing actor--he'd be able to pull off the kidnapper took the baby and stole my car routine. Starting the car, he pulled out of the driveway and headed down the road, stopping only long enough to secure the baby in her car seat. Then he continued to the motel to wait for his friend to show up.

TBC...

A/N: So, I think I picked the right place to stop this chapter. Hopefully this will not get me stabbed...