"I talked to you about this the other night," Gillian slipped beneath the bed covers and shifted down so she could pull the blanket up to her chin. She was so tired. It was hard to tell if it was more or less than after Lewis. Probably slightly less. She'd given birth to Lewis after all and that had been physically draining. But this baby cried a lot more in the night than he did. She and Cal were both so desperate for sleep they were going to bed at eight thirty. Lewis's bed time.

"I don't rememba," Cal finished unbuttoning his shirt. He hung it on the knob of his dressers. Then he peeled his socks off and heaved them towards the basket in the bathroom.

"I told you the social worker was coming today," Gillian prompted and watched him take his pants off. He still had the full beard. He looked damn right sexy with it, but she didn't particularly enjoy kissing it. Not that they were having sex at the moment. Too tired for that. Too tired for fooling around. Almost too tired for cuddles. Cal was almost always out as soon as his head hit the pillow. It was just weeks ago that he'd had surgery to remove a tumour. She could understand that he was tired.

"I'm sorry luv, I must not have been listenin'," Cal crawled over her legs to get to his side of the bed. He looked exhausted and Gillian reminded herself that he was doing all of this for her.

"You were probably asleep," Gillian told him gently.

He groaned. "I'm really sorry. Tell me about it again."

"It doesn't matter," Gillian dismissed while he climbed under the covers. Not only had he fought off cancer, but depression as well. She hadn't experienced it but she knew from her training that it took its physical toll too. It wasn't just about negative thoughts in the head or suicide; it was sleepless nights, loss of appetite, forgetfulness, light sensitivity... a lot of different things. Broken sleep patterns would not help him. "What matters is that Gail rang this afternoon and based on the social worker's report they're happy to submit a written recommendation to the court for us to remain the adoptive parents."

"That is good," Cal mumbled his response sounding anything but enthusiastic. He was lying with his back to her.

Gillian swallowed a surge of frustration. He wasn't being difficult, he was tired, she had to remind herself. She was tired too and so her patience was stretched to its limits. Only Lewis slept through the baby's crying. Gillian took a deep breath and reached out for her light. Cal wasn't being negative, but she knew he was purposefully trying to maintain a distance. He was afraid of what would happen on Monday. Monday was ten days up, there was a hearing scheduled, the paperwork would go through the courts. Gillian had been focussing on the baby. Cal had been focussing on keeping a distance. Kiera could have changed her mind at any stage in the last week and a half. They could have gotten a phone call at any time. Just because they hadn't didn't mean she couldn't go to court on Monday and take the baby back.

"Good night luv," Cal murmured, barely forming the words clearly.

"Cal, I know you're half asleep," Gillian was a bit more coherent. She napped during the day when the baby was asleep. With Lewis at day care in the mornings she took advantage of a quiet house. Cal didn't have that luxury. "But can I get a quick hug before you fall completely asleep?"

He gave a little grunt and was still for a moment and Gillian figured he had fallen asleep anyway. Then he turned over suddenly and was facing her. She scooted closer to his body, putting her arm around his shoulder. He barely held her but as she pressed her cheek against the semi-soft hair of his beard he turned his head to kiss her. "Thank you," she whispered into the darkness, even that small act reminding herself that they were still on the same team. Gillian also knew this about Cal: He was the strongest person she knew. Everything he had been through in his childhood and with his science. He was a fighter. He always fought, even when it put himself at risk. Everything they had gone through together; it made the both of them stronger. Gillian got her strength from Cal. He always pushed through.

PJ

The sound of the baby's cries woke Gillian again just before midnight. She heard Cal give a groan and sat up before he could move further. "I've got her," she whispered and reached out to put pressure on his shoulder, indicating he shouldn't move further. He gave a mutter of something incoherent while Gillian slipped out of bed and picked up the baby out of her bassinet and left the room. She put a soft light on in the kitchen and then had to rub her eyes against it. She closed the door and put the baby in her car seat which was on the counter top.

"Hey, I'm here," she spoke to the still nameless baby. Kiera would have filled out a birth certificate. When the adoption was finalised they would fill out one of their own. If. "I'm here," Gillian said again, giving the baby a gentle rock. She went to the bench where the formula was waiting and the stove. She filled a small pot with water and set it on a high heat to boil. Interestingly the click of the gas quietened the baby for a moment. Gillian got a clean prepared bottle of boiled water from the fridge and measured out formula. She went through the motions absently; it was already second nature now. She put the bottle in the boiling water and turned down the gas a little. Then she picked up the grizzling baby.

She tried soothing her as she paced around the kitchen slowly. She jigged and cooed and rocked, but the little girl was hungry. The first few nights of this routine had been hard. Lewis had always stopped crying when she picked him up. This baby didn't know who she was, didn't recognise her voice or the smell of her. And unlike Lewis, who Gillian could just put on her breast and get back into bed with, this baby had to wait fifteen minutes for the formula to heat up.

Gillian settled in Cal's comfy chair to feed; using a similar hold to when she had breastfed, the baby supported by a pillow, the length of her body under Gillian's arm, Gillian's hand around the back of the little baby's head. She held the baby close to her so the little girl could feel her body warmth. She talked to her gently and smoothed her head with the hand that was not holding the bottle. It was kind of lonely sitting up late at night feeding in the living room. She used to feed Lewis in bed. She could listen to the sounds of her husband sleeping right next to her. Sometimes he wouldn't be asleep, but would just be lying there with her.

Gillian woke three hours after putting the baby down again. She wasn't crying though so Gillian listened for other sounds, maybe Lewis, trying to find what had woken her. The house seemed quiet. Cal was breathing heavily next to her. He hadn't moved in the night. Not once. He must have been unconscious over there. Gillian rolled to check the time. It was time for the baby to feed. So she slipped out of bed carefully, feeling like she was drunk. Her head heavy, her limbs uncooperative. She took the baby into the kitchen and went through the process of making another bottle. By the time she had finished the baby had woken up. Finally some perfect timing. The little girl hardly got the chance to fuss before she was fed. Gillian changed her and put her down again easily; she hadn't even had the chance to get agitated.

PJ

Cal woke up of his own accord. He suddenly became aware and then he thought he heard crying or Lewis, or Gillian? But there was nothing but the sound of birds starting to welcome the dawn and his own heart throbbing in his ears. He rolled and checked the time. Six thirty seven. Not bad. He'd slept through most of the night; waking briefly was nothing but a vague memory. He turned over again and climbed out of bed. He shuffled from the room, picking sleep out of his eyes. He checked on the baby, still asleep, and Lewis, still asleep. Cal had a quick shower and brushed his teeth. He washed his hair. He dried off in the bathroom and turned the light out. In the bedroom he dressed quickly, quietly and in the dark. This was the exact reason why his socks were organised by colour. He checked the time again. Lewis should be awake soon if he wasn't already.

Cal went to his son's room and found the toddler on his floor, playing with small matchbox cars. "Good morning," Cal greeted him. Lewis looked up as Cal turned the light on in the room.

"Dad!" He greeted. "Broom!"

Cal took Lewis's hearing aids down from their home on the shelf. He sat on the end of Lewis's unmade bed. Lewis approached; he knew the drill. Cal turned on the aids and carefully put them on his son. Lewis reached up a hand to feel them. "Do you need a new nappy?" Cal asked him. He made the sign for 'diaper', miming closing imaginary tabs on his hips.

"Oooh," Lewis responded.

"Are you wet? Or dirty?" Cal signed 'dirty'; placing his hand under his chin so the fingers were dangling down and wiggled them.

"Wet," Lewis repeated with a nod.

Cal got a clean nappy and Lewis kicked off his pyjama bottoms and lay down on the bed, pulling the tabs of his dirty nappy open. Cal swapped it out for a clean and dry one. He re-stuck the tabs and pulled Lewis back into a sitting position. "We should get you toilet trained young man," Cal told him, folding the heavy wet nappy up. "You're a big boy now."

"Boy boy," Lewis mimicked.

"Here," Cal went to the drawers. "Time to get dressed." He signed 'clothes' by placing his fingertips on his chest and moving them down. He repeated it a few times. Lewis came and stood with him. Cal lifted him up so he could pick out a t-shirt; a giant green dinosaur on the front. And trousers; Lewis liked blue. Cal left him to get dressed himself and went to check on child number two. She was still sleeping peacefully in her room so Cal scooped her up and brought her into the kitchen where her car seat was waiting.

The first thing he did was pour himself a coffee. Then he went about making a bottle for the baby for when she started to wake up again. He also started Lewis's breakfast for when he finally came in. Cal thought that when they bought a new set of drawers they should really get something more within Lewis's range. Then he could pick out his clothes himself and get dressed. Independence. And then toilet train him too. If. If they got a new set of drawers for if the baby was staying. Or they could just get them anyway, use the others as storage, or get rid of them.

"Ah!" Lewis announced his presence.

"Here," Cal lowered a plate of toast down to his height. "Go and sit at the table." 'Sit' was placing the palm side of 'H' fingers of his right hand on the fingers of his left hand and moving them both down slightly. Lewis let the plate tip down to a dangerous angle. "Careful!" Cal told him and straightened it again.

While he made himself breakfast Cal kept an eye on the bottle heating on the stove. He had toast too. Lewis brought him his empty plate. "Do you want some more?" Cal asked him. The sign for 'more' was touching fingertips together, palms facing down in front of his chest.

Lewis nodded his head and his hand in a 'yes'.

"Please?" Cal prompted. The sign was his right palm on his chest, moving in a clockwise circle.

"Please," Lewis echoed and gave a lazy version of the sign; he didn't quite go all the way around the circle.

Cal agreed and told him to go and sit up again. He dropped more bread into the toaster and finished his breakfast. He wondered if he should wake the baby for her feed. It was never a good idea to wake a baby. He thought better of it. She would wake when she was ready, and not only that, but Cal still made to make Lewis's lunch. Plus, he was consciously aware of the time. Lewis had to be at day care and Cal had to be at work.

No sooner had he thought it than he became unstuck. He managed to make Lewis's lunch, finish his coffee and start to pack down the kitchen before the baby started to grizzle. He quickly put the food back in the fridge and reached for the bottle. "I'm here," Cal told her. "It's all right." He picked her up and glanced at the clock. He was going to be late. He didn't have time to feed her. "Let's go wake Gillian up," he told the little girl, giving her a little jig as he headed towards the bedroom. "Hopefully she'll forgive me for bein' male and unable to multi-task efficiently. I don't know how she does it," Cal whispered as he moved into the quiet bedroom. "She's wonda woman. I swear."

Cal put the bottle down on the bedside table. "Gill," he gave her shoulder a squeeze. She stirred immediately. "I'm sorry to wake you sweetheart but I ran out of time. I need you to feed the baby. I gotta take Lewis to day care." Better not to mention that he was going to be late for work. Mention her son, she would respond to that.

"Mm," she gave a little groan. She sat up and pried her eyes open and gave a sigh, shifting the hair back from her face. "Ok," she mumbled and sat properly holding out her arms for the baby. Cal placed her carefully and then handed over the bottle. If he had an extra hand he would have brought a cup of coffee to soften the blow.

Cal whispered a thank you and left her in the dim room. He told Lewis to get shoes because they were leaving. He was playing in his room again. Then Cal went to the kitchen to pack Lewis's lunch into his bag; blue with green dinosaurs. He poured Gillian a coffee, cleaned down the kitchen bench and debated over whether he should do the dishes. He checked his watch. He didn't have time. He slung Lewis's bag over his shoulder and took the coffee to Gillian, who didn't look anymore awake than the last time he was in there. He kissed her forehead. "Have a good day," he told her gently.

"You too," Gillian responded.

Cal grabbed his shoes and went back to Lewis to see if he was doing what he was told. Nope. He was still playing. "Come on," Cal told him. "Shoes." He sat on his son's bed and pulled his own shoes on, tying the laces. Lewis got his shoes and brought them to his father for help. Cal pushed his feet into them and Lewis played with the Velcro. Cal signed it was time to get into the car. Lewis raced for the garage door and banged on it. Cal patted himself down. Where was his phone? Bedside table. He went back for it.

"Keys?" Gillian asked him.

"Oh yeah," Cal was reminded as he placed his phone in his pocket. It was possible to hear Lewis banging on the door from there. "Where are they?"

"Table," Gillian responded sipping her coffee.

"Which one?"

"Hallway."

"Call me when you can form more than one word sentences," Cal suggested lightly as he headed for the door again. He was pretty sure she gave him the finger as he left. "Let's go," Cal told Lewis, opening the door for him. Lewis sat down on his bum to go down the stairs, then raced around his mother's car to his father's. Cal opened that door for him too and waited for him to climb up into his car seat. Cal put his bag on the floor behind the passenger's seat and clipped Lewis in. He got behind the driver's wheel and as the car came on he could see the time again. They were fifteen minutes late. Cal hit the button for the garage door and turned his head to back down the driveway. "Just fifteen minutes late today," Cal told Lewis. At the start of the week it had been half an hour. "Give me a high five," Cal held out his hand. Lewis reached forward and slapped his hand against his father's palm. "Good boy," Cal signed and then turned around again. Time to face another day.