Chapter 9

Bog grins, dressing in his nightclothes, hours later and he still can't get that picture out of his head.

"What is so funny," Marianne asks as he enters the bedroom?

"Ye chasing Grange with the baseball bat mere days after giving birth. I knew ye were tough, a fighter through and through," he answers, finishing his bedtime habits.

"I don't feel like it," Marianne mutters sadly. "How many times in just the past two days have I lost it? How can you think I'm tough and a fighter when you keep having to rescue me, a damsel-in-distress?"

"I can call ye many things, Marianne, but a damsel-in-distress ye are not," Bog affirms softly. "Ye're just a battle-weary knight, needing rest and a helping hand. Ye've been fighting too long."

"Feels like for ages. It was easier when Mom was alive but after she died," Marianne sighs roughly. "Dawn was only three and Dad had to work, so he hired Lizzie Darkwood as a live-in nanny and housekeeper. Pat Darkwood was hired along with his wife as cook and handyman. It is how we know Sunny, we grew up with him since he was four. Boy, Granddad had a fit. I think Dad just delighted in shocking him in his racism because about seventy percent of his ideas were just because Granddad didn't like it. Though, good thing all of them turned out to be the best ideas ever."

"Really," Bog asks, settling on the bed?

"Let's see. Being friends with Uncle Bron and Mom were both to aggravate him. Your dad being of Scottish descent and Mom being an American born daughter of Italian immigrants," Marianne points out. "Mrs Lizzie was conceived in Woodstock, being a bit of a hippie herself, and Mr Pat is a descendant of a Cherokee princess and a buffalo soldier, Darkwood being what the tribe named him."

"So yer father purposely surrounded himself with people Jonathan Springs didn't like," he comments.

"Yeah. He wanted us to not be raised like Granddad was and how he tried to raise him, while at the same time limiting our exposure to Granddad's ideals. That was somewhat easy when Mom was alive because Granddad avoided the house like the plague. When she died, his way of consoling his son's pain was to give him more work," she murmurs sadly. "The Darkwoods were great but it was like we lost Mom and Dad."

"How old were ye when she died," Bog asks?

"I was ten. Dawn and I are separated by seven years and two lost brothers. Mom had a hard time carrying boys, she lost the one that was before me and died with the last one after Dawn. Dad blamed himself and I think Granddad did too because Dawn wasn't exposed to his bigotry like I was growing up," Marianne explains, curling up on the bed facing Bog. "I think Granddad was just scared of changing or being alone because for all his ideas, he stayed with Dad. No matter how rebellious Dad was and all the different people he was friends with, Granddad was always there, even if he said a rude or a derogatory remark. You know, a few months after he died, Dad found out that Granddad sent a large amount of money every year to the police station anonymously since the day Uncle Bron became chief. That was after Uncle Bron and he stopped talking and he nearly called him to tell him too but..."

"Is that why ye gave Grange so many chances? To not lose out on something like yer grandfather and father did," he questions, watching the shock go across her face?

"I...I don't know, maybe. I mean, when Dad convinced me to marry him it was shortly after Uncle Bron's death and his winning argument was about not letting a mistake and pride ruin a good relationship," she comments. "I didn't tell anyone but Roland about not being sure of our relationship and at the time I did think he was right about it being stress from work since I was focused on the Borderline Labs takeover, not like he knew that. During the marriage, I thought that once the baby was born then he would be more relaxed because he said it was only because I was pregnant and he was worried. Maybe I did stay because I didn't want to be wrong. Doesn't that make me wrong?"

"No. Like my mam said earlier, ye trusted the wrong person and did what ye thought was right. Have ye ever told anyone any of this," Bog asks, grabbing her chin to make her look at him?

"I don't really have many friends and the ones I do have are not really people you talk to about life. Growing up with Granddad's reputation hanging on my head resulted in most parents not wanting their kids around me, just in case their kids were exposed to him. At college, wanting an education instead of rejoicing the freedom from parents like a lot of the other students were, made me a target to quite a few college socially damaging rumors. Then the Roland incident, plus work and BB, weeded out the rest. I just didn't feel right telling Dad or the Darkwoods and neither Dawn or Sunny needed to be burdened by me," Marianne explains before laughing bitterly. "You haven't even known me for two full days and I've already burdened you and your family. You're probably getting sick of me."

"Never," Bog states firmly! "I don't know what ye were told that made ye believe to never tell anyone yer trouble but I do know ye can't keep believing that. Ye can't keep holding it in or ye'll break. Family is there to help each other and ye are family. If Da knew how much trouble yer grandfather's bigotry caused ye, he would have said to hell with it and we would have met years ago. Mostly, he didn't want to have to arrest his own wife for the damage she would have done to that old man."

Marianne shares a chuckle with Bog over the thought of Griselda railing into Jonathan Springs. It made a lot of sense why the two families kept apart, that woman is a force of nature. Cooing from the crib alerts them to BB's desire for food. Changing his diaper, Marianne looks back to the bed to discover Bog turned to the other direction while she was busy. Sitting in the glider rocker Griselda brought in during the day, she gives BB his night meal, glad they managed to stay on schedule today.

"So when do you usually make fried chicken," Marianne asks hopefully, causing Bog to laugh?

"Mam likes to host a lot of parties when she can, sort of a Mcgallrigh tradition she continues. Usually, the whole neighborhood gets invited, as well as the precinct, and whatever Mcgallrigh or honorary Mcgallrigh can make it. She hasn't done as much as usual since Da died, mostly because I've been working too much to help her, but now there will probably a gathering every weekend that has good weather. I promise to make fried chicken for ye when BB is weaned," Bog chuckles out at hearing her moan of distress.

"I'll hold you to that," Marianne swears. "Your family seems to have a lot of traditions."

"Yeah but some of them are not even that old. Briste Bron started when the first Mcgallrigh came to America and called it a land to break yer sorrows, therefore calling his first son born to him in America, Briste Bron, who in turn gave the name to his first son after him. The police officer tradition was actually just an extension of the Mcgallrigh belief to protect family and by doing that, their community as well. Most Mcgallrighs have a military background, including me. I joined after I graduated high school but decided to come home after my contract was finished because truth be told I am my mam's boy," he chuckles, not seeing the soft look directed his way.

"And the parties," she asks?

"That was actually an old tradition from Scotland for the family to get together. It was expanded by Grandda after he got elected as chief of police to include members of the precinct and friends, saying that friends were family too. Which Da took and enlarged to the neighborhood, saying neighbors are friends. Now that ye are living here, ye'll meet everyone who lives within a few blocks of here. I'm glad ye decided to live here, Marianne," Bog states shyly.

"Even with all the chaos included," her small voice nearly makes him turn?

"Only to spare ye the pain would I wish away the chaos but not at the cost of ever meeting ye and BB," his voice as soft.

A small loud burp interrupts the silence, erupting both adults into laughter. Bog turns back on his other side after Marianne gives the okay. Making sure the tyke has no more burps left, she lays him down in the crib and brushes back BB's short mop of dark brown hair.

"At least BB takes after my side of the family. I can only pray he doesn't inherit anything of Roland," Marianne comments softly, watching the infant fall asleep before heading back to the bed.

"Yer side is a fighter and keeping BB from acting like Grange will be an easy win," Bog states with conviction, shutting off the light.

"I'm glad you pulled me over yesterday and I'm glad I'm going to live here. Thanks for listening, for caring and for being a good friend. Goodnight, Bog," a large yawn following the soft declaration.

"Yer welcome. Goodnight, Marianne," Bog murmurs feeling the sleeping woman curling up against him.

Sitting straight up in bed and accidentally pushing Marianne in the process, Bog tries to find what woke him. Unhappy whimpering from the crib alerts him to BB but before can he go to him, his cellphone on the nightstand starts ringing again. Cursing, Bog grabs the offensive thing and turns on the light, the clock showing four-forty-eight.

"Bog," he barks softly into the phone! "What? Are ye sure? Aye, I mean yes. Did ye call Thomas? Alright. Thanks."

"Is everything alright, Bog," Marianne asks sleepily beside the crib, trying to calm BB down?

Not giving an answer Bog grabs his uniform and heads to the bathroom. Grateful that he took a shower last night after the guests left, Bog quickly shaves, brushes his teeth, and changes.

"Bog," Marianne questions more worriedly as he re-enters the room?

"I have to go. Thomas should be here in a few minutes to pick me up," he answers, reloading his gun before holstering it. "Go on back to sleep. Take my mother and BB with ye when ye come to the station to file the charges against Dalmond and Demetri. If I can, I'll explain then."

Moving to go out the door, he is stopped by her firm hand grabbing his arm and pulling him around. Looking at her big doe eyes combined with BB against her shoulder, he can feel that deep longing stirring up again. Sighing, he settles his forehead against hers.

"I'll tell ye when I can, I promise and a Mcgallrigh always keeps their word as humanly possible. Now I have to go, I'll see ye later," Bog states before kissing her gently and heading out.

Calling out to Loch and Glenn as he heads off the porch, and snickering at the unusually unhappy Thomas, Bog grabs the car door before freezing in shock.

'What did I just bloody do?'