Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing except the image of Michael that lives in my head. And Christine.

It couldn't be morning already. It couldn't be. Just couldn't be. A body moved next to him, stirred, groaned and curled on itself away from him. Christine. He'd forgotten that they'd shared a bed last night, as well and immediately felt guilty. Had he taken up the bed as he usually did? Had she been warm enough? He rolled onto his side, wrapped an arm about her waist, and pulled her tightly against him. She stirred again and rolled toward him, snuggling closer. She was awake, Michael realized, even though her eyes weren't open and her breathing stayed even. But she was awake and pressing closer, much closer. His breath caught.

Then her lips were pressed to his throat, along his jaw. He tilted his head back, stifling a groan as she rolled and straddled him. His hands gripped her hips as her lips worked their way up to his mouth. He stopped her there. She fixed her sleepy eyes on him and tilted her head to one side in question.

"Christine," He murmured and relished in the small smile that spread across her face. "We have to get up. We've got a busy day." Her questioning expression intensified, her head tilted to the other side.

"I thought you had the day off?" She asked and he spotted a pout forming on her lovely mouth. Damnit. He wasn't ready to introduce her to his parents, to Joseph. He considered her for a moment, considered changing his mind and canceling their visit. But that would be rude. And damn his parents if he'd taught them to be anything but rude.

"I do, baby," Her eyes opened wider and he wondered if the pet name wasn't okay and blushed. "But…well, I hadn't told you because—You see, my fam—erm…" He cleared his throat and tried again, taking a deep breath.

"My family is coming over today. All of them." If it were possible, her eyes widened and her face paled. Was she really that terrified? He took her face between his large hands and finally gave into her kisses. "Please don't be nervous." He murmured against her mouth and when she relaxed and he felt heat returning to her cheeks, it was his turn to roll and help her forget her fears.

After a well needed shower—alone—Christine, wrapped in a towel, dug through her closet for something appropriate to wear to meet Michael's family. She decided that a pale yellow sundress would suffice for the weather. A pair of bronze sandals and all that was left was…her hair. What was there to do with a mop of unruly curls, way past due for a cut? She left it alone and allowed it to do what it would, which was curl and fly every which way around her face, back and shoulders. She hummed a soft tune as she applied a little makeup.

"What is that?" Christine jumped, smearing foundation across her face. Flustered, she snatched up a wash cloth and began dabbing at the mess.

"What was what?" She asked.

"You were singing something. What was it?" She shook her head, finally managing to apply the foundation correctly and reached for her mascara. "Sing it again, please." Shooting him a look that dared him to ask again, she turned back to the mirror.

"I said please…"

"I don't care if you say it in Farsi. I'm not singing." He looked stung.

"Why not?"

"Michael…You sing professionally. I don't want my lack of decent vocal chords on display." Michael cringed and nodded, deciding not to press the issue. The doorbell rang and Christine was actually thankful for it.

"Mother," Michael greeted his mother with a kiss on the cheek and nodded to his father who didn't return the gesture. Christine stood behind him, hands folded in front of her, feeling more awkward than she ever had. Finally, he gestured them inside, followed by eight—eight!—siblings. He ushered them into the sitting room, Christine was oddly aware of the curious looks aimed at her.

"Everyone," Michael opened his arms, motioning for them all to sit. She took the loveseat next to him and accepted the arm he rested across her shoulders. "This is…" Oh, God. He was going to introduce her—finally—to his family and she wasn't sure she was ready for it.

"I'd like to introduce you to Christine Rowan. She's my personal physician and…well, she's my girlfriend."Silence. No one said anything. Christine held her breath. Joseph cleared his throat and leaned forward in his seat.

"You're girl—Michael. Are you stupid?" He asked angrily.

"Well, Joseph, I thought we'd established years ago that yes, I am stupid around you."