Disclaimer: I don't own anything here (except for Al) and am just doing this for fun and to pass the long months until Season 4.

The second week without Al and Nicky was much more difficult than the first. Al was hopping between her various brothers' houses so she didn't call as much. Tim missed the sound of her voice and her stories about her brothers.

The house felt empty and lonely without her. Tim let George sleep in the bed, even though he knew Al wouldn't be happy if she ever found out. He wasn't sure why he did it. Was because he was sick of looking at George's mournful eyes every night? Or did he think it would help him sleep better by giving the illusion that Al was there?

If the latter was his reason, then it definitely didn't work. George was much "taller" than Al when he stretched out, he snored something awful and the way he twitched and thrashed in his dreams shook the whole bed.

That second week seemed like a month and Tim was happy when Sunday finally arrived. He got a pass to meet Al at the gate and he waited there impatiently as her flight from Dallas was delayed two hours. When the plane finally arrived, he stood back and watched the passengers come out of the long hallway, craning his neck to try to spot Al. Her shortness was cute but it made finding her in a crowd a real pain in the ass.

The flood of passengers slowed to a trickle. Tim rocked on the balls of his feet, wanting to pace, but trying to stay calm. Al had to be on that plane because she would have called him if her plans had changed. At least that's what he kept telling himself.

Maybe he was at the wrong gate, he thought as he compared the number he'd written on his hand to the number on the board. He was definitely in the right place. He kept his eyes glued on the hallway, willing her to appear.

When the pilot and co-pilot walked off the plane, Tim felt a certain dread. She wasn't coming back. He pulled out his phone and checked for messages or texts. Nothing. He called her, only to have it go straight to voicemail.

Tim sunk into the closest chair and hunched forward, elbows on his knees and face in his hands. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to think of what he should do next. Then he heard a familiar voice.

"There's your daddy, Nicky. I told you he'd be right here," Al said, smiling. Tim was up instantly, closing the distance between them with long strides. When he reached her, she was in the middle of saying something, but he just leaned down and kissed her, then pulled her in for a hug tight enough to make her protest that she was getting crushed.

"I'm sorry, Timmy," said Al. "Nicky finished his bottle on the descent but his ears still hadn't popped so he was really upset. You know how there's that line that once he crosses it, he's so upset he'd not going to eat and he's just going to scream for ages?"

Tim nodded. They were lucky that their son had only crossed that line a few times.

"A very nice flight attendant let me stay on the plane and feed him while they were doing whatever it is they do after a flight. And since he's not screaming now, I guess it worked." Al ran her hands down Tim's arms and then stepped back, taking a good look at his face.

"You thought I wasn't coming back," said Al.

Tim looked down. He thought he could hear sadness and hurt in her voice and he felt bad for doubting her. "I was fine until the pilots came through, then I started to worry."

"I told you that you were stuck with me and I meant it."

"And I told you I could definitely live with that." He squeezed her hand and then knelt down in front of the stroller, unbuckled Nicky and easily lifted him out. He kept one hand lightly on Al's back as they walked toward the baggage area. Tim reluctantly put Nicky back in the stroller so he could get the bags.

After the bags were loaded into the back of the Passat and Nicky was secured into his car seat, Tim looked at Al and smiled. "So, how was your trip?"

It was a simple sentence that sent Al into hours of stories about her family. She had plenty to say, especially about her father's girlfriend. Al didn't like her at all. (And you know what really pisses me off? My dad told her my full name. So she tried calling me that a few times. Can you believe that shit?)

Tim kept a hand on her the whole drive home, as though he needed proof that she really was there. He enjoyed the stories, but mostly, he just enjoyed being with her while their son slept in the back seat.

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Two weeks before Christmas, Al and Tim went to the mall in Midland to do their Christmas shopping. Nicky was with them, happily kicking his legs and taking everything in with his big eyes. Tim pushed the stroller, trailing behind Al with her lists and plans. Tim was puzzled when she went into an art supply store and headed toward the journals and sketchbooks.

"Why are we in here? It smells like paint in here," asked Tim.

"TJ...he draws comic book stories," said Al as she picked up a sketchbook and flipped through it

"Really?"

"Yeah, usually on pieces of scrap paper or the back of his homework, so I think he probably loses them pretty quickly."

"How did you know about them then?" asked Tim, repositioning the stroller so some people could pass by.

"He's shown them to me a few times when I was putting him to bed."

"He's never shown them to me," said Tim, feeling a little hurt and left out. "The only bed time stories I get are the first grade soap operas from Amber."

"Oh, you mean the ones that you need a scorecard to keep track of the kids and there's a lot of 'and then he was like...and then she went'...those sorts of stories?"

Tim nodded. "Exactly. And they involve a lot of talking. That seems to be all girls do."

"Pretty much. Don't feel bad about TJ though. These stories, they're all superhero stories, and....well....the hero is pretty much a mixture of you and Batman."

"Me? Really?"

"Really," said Al with a grin as she picked out a sketchbook and then moved over to the colored pencils. After making her selection and paying for the purchases, they headed for the toy store, which was a riot of noise and activity. It seemed like some smart-ass kid had gone through and turned on every electronic toy. Tim seriously felt like his head might explode.

Al headed for the Barbie aisle and Tim thought about Christmas.

"Timmy, are you okay?" asked Al.

"Yeah....I'm just worried about Billy."

"Any particular reason or just in general?"

Tim shrugged. "Well, you know, the holidays can be hard anyway an I'm just worried about what might happen, this being his first Christmas without Mindy and all."

Al took his hand and squeezed it. Tim looked down and tried to smile at her, but couldn't quite manage it.

"It'll be okay," said Al quietly, but the words sounded hollow. At this point, the only thing that Tim knew was that things rarely went the way you expected and that there was usually nothing you could do about it.