A/N: Definitely a filler chapter. Thanks for the reviews, and enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own the Suite Life of Zack and Cody.

On the road to Boston, MA

August, 2012

"Noah, honey, stand still for a few seconds so mommy can get your shoes on-,"

"-I don't WANT to wear the blue shoes!"

"Sweetheart, I think you'll forget about the color as the day goes on-,"

"-Blue is bad, blue is bad, blue is bad, blue is bad…"

Cody peeked his head inside the room to find his wife struggling to place navy sneakers on their three-year-old son. A small bump was visible under her pretty cream sweater—evidence of their second child.

"Hey, Noah, if you wear these shoes maybe daddy will take you for ice cream!"

Cody decided it was time to become a reinforcement. "Oh, yeah," he said condescendingly as he walked over and knelt by the struggling Noah.

His son's expression was upset and though he looked adorable in his matching outfit and thick blonde hair, he was vehemently kicking away all chancing of wearing the final installment to his outfit.

Simply because the shoes were blue, and Noah hated the color blue.

"If you let mommy put on your shoes I'll definitely get some ice cream. We could get a big chocolate mudslide, or a sundae-,"

"-Chocolate with sprinkles." said Noah, ceasing his fidgeting.

"I wouldn't have it any other way." Cody agreed.

Noah raised a skeptical brow. "Chocolate with sprinkles," he said again.

Cody smiled a little and ruffled his son's hair. Noah flinched a little and backed away as though fearful. "Okay," Cody said, his smile firmly in place. "Chocolate-,"

"-With sprinkles."

Twenty minutes later the three of them were in the car and on their way to Boston. It was a long, long drive, but Noah was near impossible to take on planes. He hated any break of routine, and just getting him to agree to go on this little excursion was like asking the president to leave the White House.

"And all the bags are in the back?" Allison asked her husband as he pulled out of the Chicago suburbs. "Noah's suitcase and his other stuff?"

Cody nodded. "I packed it all together with ours."

Allison moaned softly and massaged her closed eyes. "He likes his clothes separate, honey," she said as though explaining something to an ignorant child.

Cody sighed. "Right," he said, just now remembering. "I'm sorry." It had been dark when he'd packed and he had just gotten off a long shift.

He glanced in the rearview mirror to check on his son, and found solace in the fact that Noah was pensively staring down at a little pop-up book in his lap. (Last time they'd driven to Boston they'd given him a puzzle but it had turned into a royal catastrophe when one of the pieces was dropped.)

"We'll deal with it when we get to your mom's," Allison accepted, sighing. Cody felt bad, suddenly; lately it seemed like all he was doing was letting her down.

"Dr. Walker tells me that you talked down a leaper the other day."

Allison smiled sheepishly and massaged her temples. "Dr. Walker gives me too much credit," she said good-naturedly. "There was an eighty-year-old Alzheimer's patient and she wandered up onto the roof…I was showing a new mother how to feed her baby and I hear this singing, so I went up to try and figure out who it was, and it was this woman. Singing Summertime to all of Chicago."

Cody smiled fondly. "So, you brought her back to her senses, returned her to her concerned family and went about business as usual?"

Allison shot him a playful look. "No," she said gently. "I brought her back to her senses, returned her to her concerned family and had lunch with a five-year-old."

Cody raised a brow as he changed lanes. Noah hadn't moved and was still staring solemnly down at the pop-up book. "With a five year old…?"

Allison laughed musically. "A new big brother," she clarified. "His dad had pulled him out of camp and he was scared something had happened because both his parents were busy and he was alone in the waiting room."

"Poor kid," Cody said sympathetically, resisting the urge to glare at a driver who'd decided to cut him off. "Was everything okay?"

"Everything was fine," Allison answered. "In fact, me and him had a very meaningful conversation regarding dinosaurs."

"Dinosaurs," Cody repeated. "Your job sounds so hard, my dear."

Allison slapped him teasingly on the arm. "I learned more than I ever knew before about Brontosaurus."

Cody and her laughed happily for a few minutes until Cody frowned thoughtfully and accelerated onto the next interstate. "What do you think of the name Benjamin?" he asked curiously.

Allison made a throaty noise and took a sip of the iced tea in the cup holder to her left. "Traditional," she responded slowly. "I like the name Cooper."

Cody wrinkled his nose. "Are we having a child or a puppy?"

Allison rolled her eyes condescendingly. They already knew that if the baby was a girl her name would be Sophia, but if they had another boy their name had yet to be selected. "How about Jeremy?"

Cody shrugged. "Eh," he said, not wild about it. "Blair?" he suggested.

"What kind of name is Blair?" Allison asked with a laugh. She thought for a moment. "What about Robert?"

Cody pulled out of a semi's blind spot and nodded heartily. "Nice name," he prompted. "Traditional, but still kind of modern."

"We could call him Robby for short," Allison agreed. Cody wasn't thrilled with the nickname, but let it pass as he exited the freeway. "How 'bout it, Noah?" Allison turned in her seat to address her son and he crinkled his nose as he flipped the page in his pop-up book. "Do you like the name Robert?"

Noah sighed. "Ice cream," he whined without looking up. "You said we could get ice cream and we haven't gotten it yet!"

Allison raised her brows at Cody who snickered cheerfully and flashed a thumb's up in the mirror. "When we get closer, Noah," he promised. "You still want chocolate with sprinkles?"

Noah allowed a small grin. "Chocolate with sprinkles," he solidified.

New York, New York

August, 2012

Zack was late and he knew it, but he couldn't leave until he'd finished speaking with the newspaper representative from a paper in Rochester.

"What is Mr. Bailey's opinion on healthcare?"

"I told you," Zack said, trying not to sound disgruntled. He couldn't help but notice the clock on the wall, and it seemed to be reminding him more that he should have left and hour and a half ago. He was expected in Boston at six.

And it was three thirty.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Martin, I don't think I wrote it down-,"

"-Mr. Bailey believes in individual health care," Zack recited. "He believes in increased funding towards federal hospitals and has a great interest in conserving as many American jobs as possible."

"And how does he feel about immigration?"

Zack impatiently tapped his fingers against his desk and made a significant jerk of his head towards the door. "Mr. Bailey will address all further questions at the debates in three weeks. I'm in a hurry, if you don't mind…"

He trailed off significantly and the young, nervous reporter hopped up and nearly sprinted to the door. "Thank you, Mr. Martin—I appreciate this very much. I-would you like me to send you a copy of the story when it's-,"

"-That's somebody else's job," Zack answered shortly. "We receive all articles written about Mr. Bailey via our press committee."

"Well," said the journalist awkwardly. He tipped his hat and scurried out of the room with a hasty, "have a nice day!"

Zack shook his head bemusedly and sank back down in his seat. He shared this office with another "political aid" and didn't really mind, because he was usually out answering phone calls or forwarding messages or meeting with the speech and publicity committees.

The election was like a Broadway show—Mr. Bailey was the star, and the rest of them were the back-up dancers and crew members who made it all possible. They were the behind-the-scenes workers who kept the audience happy and the cameras rolling. They were the writers, directors, make-up and pit orchestra that made everything come together in time for opening night.

Just as he had began to pack up some things for the long weekend ahead his phone began to ring. Zack tried not to scowl and lifted the receiver, pressing a blinking button as he answered.

"Zachary Martin," he said, voice crisp and pleasant.

"We're up in the polls!"

He recognized the voice as that of Ava's, and when he took in her words he pumped his fist in the air, and instant grin breaking out on his face. "Since when?" he asked her eagerly.

"Sharon just sent me a clipping. Andrew just gave a speech on some plan to fight poverty and made it all controversial. He turned away half the big names in the city, for Christ's sake!"

Zack laughed loudly. "I was just talking to some reporter who wanted to know about Bailey's stance on immigration. I told him I couldn't tell him anything and he'd have to wait until debates so we wouldn't make that same mistake-,"

"-Pray hard tonight that he doesn't run off and turn this into something it's not. Did you word it right or-,"

"-Relax," Zack assured her, cracking his knuckles and nodding once in greeting as someone he knew walked by the office window. "You would've had to have done some major damage control if I'd come out and said what Bailey really thinks. That'd be like handing Andrew the position-,"

"-Bailey's policy actually has a lot of merit. When the public understands-,"

Zack rolled his eyes. "Ava," he said as if it were staggeringly obvious. "Half of New York's population is immigrants! If we come out and say that Bailey supports anti-immigration laws how many do you think are going to go running to Andrew?"

"You've made your point," Ava allowed. "But sooner or later-,"

Suddenly the fact that he was late hit him again and Zack's heart skipped a beat. "-I'm sorry, Ava—but I'm really late. I'll see you Tuesday, okay? I'll have my cell on so you can contact me."

After hearing her goodbye, Zack set down the phone and grabbed his file folders. If he left immediately he could be in Boston by six thirty.

If he was very, very lucky.

To Be Continued

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NEXT: Zack and Cody agree to spend the day together, but when they find themselves in a dangerous situation will they both make it out unscathed? And the truth about Seth's death is revealed...