Author's Note: You can read more about Spike and Leslie's story in 'Hope'.

VENTOLIN OBSTETRIC INJECTION (contains salbutamol sulfate) - used to slow down contraction; used in the management of pre-term labour. In pregnant women's case of premature contraction, it is introduced intravenously.

Drama and all that Flashback

The first person they texted was Spike. It was three in the morning, Scarlatti has barely crawled into bed after a taxing afternoon shift that extended all through the early morning. Unable to resist the urge to check out who sent the message he turned over, reached out for his phone. He read it once. Twice. Thrice. Then bolted out of bed, "Bloody hell!"

Winnie woke up with a start, "What is it, Angel Boy?"

"Les is in the hospital having contractions."

"She's not due for another six weeks."

"I know." He looked down on his wife, kissed her on the forehead and said, "I've got to go see her. Stay here, rest AND stay off your feet." He went to the toilet, splashed his face with cold water, dressed and was on his way to the hospital within 5 minutes. Win was left sitting on the bed, her knees pulled close to her although her belly was in the way. She hoped it turns out alright.

On the drive to the hospital Spike reminisced over his time as a father-figure to Leslie and the huge drama that had to do with her being in love with Guisippi "Joe" di Nozzi; such was her strong-headedness he feared having a daughter one day.

Flashback:

He was fuming mad at Inspector James and Constable di Nozzi but largely at Leslie McCoy for allowing herself to get into such a fine mess. But hang on! It was Leslie who was being played here. She first knew Joe as Victor Carabella. Someone she just met online, chatted her up, courted her and now it turned out he was an undercover cop.

He clearly remembered thinking, 'It meant only one thing, Leslie was being turned into a confidential informant. Di Nozzi was working on her while his Boss, Inspector James was working on me!'

He turned his car around after walking out of the meeting with James and di Nozzi and drove to Leslie's place instead. He spotted Joe aka Victor's car in the parking area. He looked at his watch. Mid-night! He fumed. If this gigolo thinks he can stay the night he has another thing coming.

He rang the doorbell insistently as if his very life depended on it. Leslie's sleepy voice said, "Coming." He knew she'd looked out through the peephole to see who was coming to see her at this time and he knew she was alarmed to see his frowny face outside the door. Eventually, she let him in. He stepped inside, "Where's he?" Tried as she might, she didn't have the capacity to lie well enough, "Where's who?"

He glared, "Don't do this, Les!" He turned his face to the direction of the bedroom, his booming voice carried through the walls, "Oy, come out here before I haul your ass out!" They heard shuffling noises. Someone was getting dressed in a hurry. Di Nozzi came out looking a little dishevelled but to his credit he didn't look the least bit frightened of the older Italian. He held his ground.

"What's up, buddy?" Joe's attempt to appear cool annoyed him even more.

"I need to speak to Leslie and you need to go home," he said pointing a finger to the door.

The young Martin sheen look-alike didn't budge, "I was invited to stay, if I'm going it's because she asked me to, not by her sex-starved big brother." That didn't endear Joe to him. Leslie knew what was coming next so she quickly stood between them with her arms outstretched to keep the two hot-blooded Italians apart. "Ok, alright, Victor…"

Di Nozzi corrected her "Joe. It's Joe."

"Ok, Joe, please leave." She pleaded with him with her eyes. Joe looked at her, then at him, then back at her, "Just because you asked. " On the way out, he picked up his jacket from the couch his eyes still on Leslie, "If he gives you a hard time, call me."

He remembered thinking, This guy is really asking for it!

He turned to face di Nozzi, Leslie admonished, "Spike, he's leaving, it's ok."

Now, it was just the two of them. What now? He's never had to play a parent's role before. He was always the affable, amiable, indulging big brother but now he had to wield the stick. Leslie broke the silent impasse, "Coffee?" He nodded. She showed him the Moccona jar, he smiled tightly, "No, thanks. Water will do."

They sat down in the kitchen, "Tell me…. from the beginning. "

She fidgeted and fiddled with her teaspoon, "We met online."

"I know, you can fast forward a little."

"How'd you know?" she asked surprised.

He gesticulated with his arms, "'cause we're friends on Facebook. I can see who 'talks' to you. I follow you on Twitter and Tumblr."

"Oh, yeah, of course,"

She continued, "After talking online for three months we decided to meet. He came to the Bistro a month ago and we started dating. Last night after the party, after you interrogated him, I thought he didn't want to return my calls anymore. As it turned out, he was tied up in an operation. He came to the Bistro just before closing and he told me everything."

"Exactly what did he tell you?"

"He said he was sorry he couldn't return my calls. He was away on an operation," she smiled, "I asked if he was a surgeon." He smiled as he recalled this bit of the narrative.

"He said no, not that kind of operation. Then he showed me his badge. He explained that he's an undercover cop for RCMP in a Unit in charge of investigating money laundering. He told me that Juliana's Bistro's soon-to-be new owners are suspected to be involved."

"Go on."

"He said he didn't want to tell me because he didn't want me to think that he was only using me. But since his cover was blown... by you, might I add… he decided to tell me the truth. You know, his identity and what he really does for a living."

His blood pressure went up, "Let me get this straight. He's saying had I not dug up the quote unquote criminal record of one Victor Carabella, that he would have been happy to string you along. Is that it?"

Leslie thought about it for a minute, "Yeah, maybe. May be he'll just be Victor Carabella to me… forever. But since you've quote unquote uncovered his criminal cover he had no choice but to trust me with his true identity."

"Trust you with his true identity," he repeated.

"Don't you get it," she said exasperated. "It's because he loves me!"

His heart stopped momentarily and was only kickstarted by what she said next, "And I love him! So I want to help him." Blessed Mary, Mother of God. Help me!

He gathered his wits again shortly, "Les, I think he's playing you. I'm not convinced. Because if he loves you, he won't drag you into this. Period. Full stop. I wouldn't drag Win into a crazy situation like this. No way."

She argued back. "But your situation is different. You're not a detective, you're not an undercover cop. Look at Sam Miller, she works with Yoh-Lin at CSIS. Jules, she works with you and Sam at SRU. Does that mean they're not in love?"

"For argument sake, Sam Miller and Jules Callaghan are both trained and highly skilled to do what they do. And, for your information, both operatives were ALREADY in the business BEFORE their men came along. You're not trained for this. You're being played and I don't like it."

At this point, great, Leslie cried, "What is it with you? Do you think I'm so unlovable that you find it hard to believe someone can love me?"

He helplessly covered his face, "Les, you know very well that's not what I mean. You are lovable. And I think when you find the right person he'd be absolutely beside himself and would think he's the luckiest guy in the world. But the way you and Joe met is just too convenient, too rehearsed. Les, I don't want to see you get hurt."

She looked down, "Maybe you're right but you don't know him. You don't see how happy we are when we're together. You don't see him around me. You're making value judgment on limited information. And even if you're right... it's my heart to break."

Unbelievable.

He scratched his head and ended the conversation. If they took it any further they're likely not to speak to each other again so he did the decent thing. "Ok, let's end this here. Give me a hug."

"Thanks for caring. I promise to be careful. But you have to admit, I chose well. I picked an Italian."

Heavens! Oh, St Francis of Assisisi. He remembered pushing her at arms' length, "Ow? That's supposed to make me feel better? Don't forget, I know what Italian men get up to!"

She removed his hands from her shoulders, "Don't start on me again! Butt off now."

"Ok," he kissed the top of her head, "Good night. Oh, and do me a favour? Lock the door and don't open it for anyone." She laughed.

When he arrived home at two in the morning, Winnie was up. "Why aren't you sleeping?" he asked as he came over to kiss the top of her head.

"I woke up 10 minutes ago. I was worried when I saw you haven't come home. What's going on?" she asked without a hint of sleepiness, sleep has abandoned her. He gave her the abridged version of the day's event.

When he finished narrating the story she asked him to sit next to her, "If you have a teenager who keeps running away with your car what would you do? Say you've done everything. Parked the car in a garage, locked it, hid the car keys; you've done all that but he still manages to run off with the car, what would you do?"

He looked at her, shrugged his shoulder and said in jest, "Put him in jail?"

But Win was serious, "Wise parents would teach their teenager to drive. They will give him the tools, the skills to manage the situation. You can't stop Leslie but you can arm her with skills, train her, help her out. Equip her. Then perhaps you won't be too worried. Time to let go, Angel Boy." Then she got up to go to the bedroom.

He followed her with admiring eyes. Win wasn't a genius by some intelligence testing standard, but she was wise. She won't be able to tell the chemical composition of air but that's ok he could already recite the periodic table of elements. What she was though was a breath of fresh air and that's what he needed.

Days later, the Leslie-Joe romance continued to give him sleepless nights, ulcer, upset his breathing pattern to the point that he told Winnie, "Remind me not to have a daughter."

Win's reply was, "Remind me not to have a daughter with you. You'd be impossible."

He protested and said, "No, I'd be the best father of a daughter, I'd lock her up."

Before he knew it, he was at the hospital's visitor car park. It was outside visiting hour, so he flashed his police badge, the door opened and the welcome mat was rolled out. He hurried to the Maternity department and found Joe sitting in the waiting area, pale, drawn, tired and worried.

"What happened?" he asked.

"I don't know... it just happened very quickly. Her contractions were coming thick and fast." Joe replied. "I'm just glad I was home when it happened."

Spike felt for Joe, who in spite of his initial misgivings turned out to be the perfect fit for Leslie. "How are you coping yourself?"

"Better now... she's sleeping. They hooked her up to Ventolin to give her some more time, to try to stop... slow the contractions. They've given her steroids to help the baby's lungs mature quicker. The baby is in a breech position, the obstetrician is hoping the baby would shift naturally in 24 hours. If not then she will have to have an emergency C-section."

Spike offered to get them breakfast at the stroke of five in the morning. He left to get coffee and some pastries and called Winnie to give her an update, she listened to him say, "The Little One may have to undergo an emergency C-section."

Win thought, She's married, about to have her first child, who in fact would be weeks older than our own but Leslie is still his Little One. Will be till the day he dies. She smiled at his protectiveness and father's instinct, patted her belly and said, "Baby... if you turn out to be a little girl, you've got the best Dad ever."

Twenty four hours later the Ventolin has slowed the contractions but couldn't stop them, "There's no stopping this baby," said the doctor. "The baby remains in breech position, I highly recommended a C-section to avoid further trauma on the mother and the baby."

Joe went into theatre to be with Leslie who was only partially sedated so she could be awake for the procedure, while Spike stayed in the visitor's area along with Joe's mother and other family members.

It was a baby boy who they named Oliver Angelo Guisippi di Nozzi. He was immediately transferred to the neo-natal care facility, checked over thoroughly and hooked up to oxygen. The little fighter looked frighteningly frail but was in good health. The doctor told them, "Good birth weight too for someone six weeks premmie."

Leslie cried as she gazed at her baby, enveloped in an artificial womb, depending on others to give him care. They were able to touch his little face and and hands through an opening. Joe held her close, and whispered assuringly, "He's gonna be just fine."

Spike watched quietly, in tears, through the window of the neo-natal nursery. Seeing Les and Joe with their baby, and assured that they would be alright, he turned around to see to his wife. And determined to be as close to her as possible, in case...