Everyday Peril

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Thanks for the compliments anonymous and UConn Fan, and I'm glad you found Hailey amusing… Becky, you made my day with that (and the ones on SD-1). You're such a sweetie, and a hell of a writer. Everyone should go check out Dreamwriter 4 Life's stuff. She's much better than I am; I guarantee you won't be disappointed.

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Chapter 2: A Mid-Spring Night's Dream

Little Hailey had crept onto the porch behind her, evidently tired of sitting on the couch and feeling much better. Her green eyes were innocent and questioning as she unwittingly said her first swear, completely trusting her mother to tell her this new and interesting word's meaning.

Sydney sat on top of the porch steps, out of the way of the rain. "That, darling," she began slowly, "is a very naughty word. Mommy shouldn't have said it, and you shouldn't either."

Hailey nodded solemnly, taking in this piece of information as if it were a grave secret was promising to keep for all eternity. "I'll never say that bad word, Mommy," she whispered gravely, eyes wide.

Sydney laughed and pulled her daughter towards her, placing a kiss on the little girl's nose and causing her to giggle as well. She wished she had had a camera to record that solemn promise, knowing she would need it once Hailey hit her teen years. The little girl moved to climb into her lap, but Sydney pushed her gently away. "I'm all wet, angel."

"You'll get sick," Hailey stated, sitting down next to her mother, careful not to touch her so that she wouldn't get wet.

"And you don't want to get even more sick," Sydney replied. "You should be inside, little girl. Don't you want to get better?"

Hailey nodded. "I'm sorry, Mommy."

"For what, baby?"

Her little girl often apologized for things before even telling her mother that she had done them. The sweet little apologies had preceded stories of how crayon drawings had ended up on the wall, a china vase had broken, and the twins had ended up looking like badly painted French whores covered in Sydney's new makeup. But this next confession surprised her.

"I'm sorry that I was sick. And that I got William and Jonny sick." The look on Hailey's face mirrored what her father's had been when he had walked in the door just minutes before.

"Oh, Hailey…" Sydney began, not really knowing what to say next. The child felt genuinely guilty for the events of the day, for something that she could not have had any control over. "You don't need to be sorry. It's not your fault. People get sick sometimes. It just happens."

"You're not mad?" Hailey's face brightened just a little, but the words were still slow and cautious.

Sydney was sure she had been careful to only show her daughter her cheerful self, even if that self was fake and forced. She had been smiling bright, fake smiles, and at least somewhat cheerfully answering questions all day. "Why would I be mad?"

"You and Daddy were talking French. You only talk French if I was bad or if you're mad."

So, the little girl was beginning to catch on. Well, for the most part. Those weren't the only times she and Michael spoke in French, but that was something that definitely did not need to be discussed with a four-year-old…

"I wasn't mad, Hailey. I was just…" The truth was, she had been mad, but at herself for getting so frustrated, not the children. "…tired."

"And grouchy?" Hailey was definitely beginning to perk up, the guilt and sorrow melting from her face.

"Yes," Sydney smiled. "And grouchy."

"Next time, take a nap," Hailey suggested happily, but then became quiet again. "You promise you're not mad?"

"I promise." It was an easy promise to make; any anger she had felt had melted away the moment her daughter had stepped out onto the porch, innocently asking what "shit" meant.

The little girl held up her hand, sticking her little finger out to her mother. "Pinky swear?"

"Pinky swear," Sydney affirmed, linking her pinky with her daughter's and shaking her hand.

"Oka-ahhh!" The rest of the word was lost in a scream, as thunder rumbled loudly, and Hailey jumped into her mother's arms, forgetting all about getting wet, wrapping her little arms tightly around Sydney's neck and burying her face in her shoulder.

"Shhh…" Sydney rocked back and forth and rubbed Hailey's back. Thunder cracked again, startling Sydney this time, as well. Hailey still in her arms, Sydney stood up and walked toward the house. "I think it's time to go back inside."

Michael met them right inside the door; he had heard Hailey's scream and had been just about to go out and drag them in. "Hey, how're my two beautiful girls?"

Sydney smiled in response, disentangling herself from Hailey and handing her to her father. The little girl wrapped her arms loosely around her Michael's neck, mirroring her mother's dimpled smile.

"We're good, Daddy," Hailey answered sweetly, already much braver now that they were back inside. She reached up and cupped her hands around her father's ear, whispering loudly, "Mommy was scared of the thunder so we comed inside."

Both Sydney and Michael had to hold back their laughter, the first biting her cheeks in an effort to pretend she hadn't heard her little girl's "whisper", while the latter's eyes twinkled as he nodded with mock seriousness at his daughter's information.

"I see," Michael said solemnly, and then whispered back, just as loudly. "Good thing you're here to take care of her."

"Yep," Hailey chirped, kissing her father on the cheek and then turning to face her mother. "You don't need to be scared of thunder, Mommy," she said, with a sympathetic smile. "It's just the angels bowling."

"That's right, sweetie," Sydney nodded, kissing Hailey's forehead and jabbing Michael with her elbow as his face began to twitch with laughter.

Michael straightened and put his free hand on Sydney's head, holding her still while he kissed both her and their daughter. "Now, it's time to get ready for bed," he said, and then added, catching Sydney's eye, "Both of you."

"Yes, Daddy," Sydney teased, stepping forward to softly kiss his lips. "Goodnight, sweetie," she said, turning to Hailey. "Daddy'll tuck you in."

"Night, Mommy," Hailey answered. "Sleep tight. Don't let the bedbugs bite!"

"I won't," Sydney promised, bringing a hand up to smooth her daughter's hair. "Do you know how much I love you?"

"This much!" Hailey responded, spreading her arms wide and almost causing Michael to lose his hold on her as she leaned forward and hugged her mother tightly.

"That's right," Sydney nodded, wrapping her arms around both Hailey and Michael as she returned the hug. "Night, sweetheart."

"Come on, my little girl," Michael said, carrying her away as thunder rumbled once again.

"Daddy?" Sydney heard Hailey ask as father and daughter disappeared down the hallway. "Can you ask Grandpa Vaughn to tell the angels to finish bowling tomorrow? They're too noisy."

Michael walked into the bedroom and found his wife staring out the window at the rain, still in her wet jogging clothes. He crept up behind her, lifting back her hair and planting a kiss on the back of her neck.

"Why aren't you asleep?" he asked, his lips tickling her skin. Normally that would have driven her insane; she would have had him on the bed in an instant. But tonight she was too tired, too preoccupied.

"I couldn't… I just… It's…" She sighed in frustration.

"Syd," he murmured, spinning her around, "You're exhausted." He ran a gentle finger over the deep, dark bags that were under her eyes.

She leaned into him, borrowing from his strength. "You're going to have fun tomorrow."

"I bet," he answered, running his fingers through her hair.

"Do you want me to stay home with them again?" She glanced up at him, her eyes seeming to beg that he would say no. He knew she would do it if he asked, but was praying that he wouldn't. "It might get messy," she reminded him quietly.

"Syd, I've cleaned up vomit before," Michael reminded her gently.

Sydney blushed, remembering how sick she had been with the twins, and how sweet Michael had been, by her side every minute, holding her hair back when she made it to the bathroom and soothing her when she didn't. She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks and bent her head so he wouldn't see her flushed face. "I'm sorry about that," she whispered, playing with the buttons on his shirt.

"Don't say you're sorry, Syd." She always insisted on apologizing for the things that she couldn't and didn't have any power over, the things that couldn't be helped. Maybe that's where their daughter had gotten into the habit of becoming insanely guilty every time she did the littlest thing wrong. "Besides," he added, his tone still serious, "Hailey will be better tomorrow, and if it gets messy, I can just keep the twins in the bathtub all day."

"Michael," Sydney sighed, looking up into his eyes. She knew that he was kidding, but if she hadn't known him as well as she did, she wouldn't have been able to tell just by looking at him. "You can't keep the twins locked up in the bathtub."

"Why not?" he shrugged. "Everything'll stay cleaner that way."

"Well, they won't stay for one thing…"

"William will," Michael pointed out. And Sydney knew that he was right. They could lock that child up in a room full of rats, and he would probably just sit there and let the filthy creatures crawl all over him. But there was still the other half of that dynamic duo, for all their identical looks, the two little boys couldn't have been more different.

"Jonny won't," she countered. "And if he goes, William will end up following him. Besides, they're not dogs, Michael. You can't keep children caged up like that."

"Can I keep Donovan in the bathtub?" he asked, his eyes and voice as innocent as a child's.

She swatted at him playfully. "Michael! What am I going to do with you?"

He brought his lips down to hers, kissing her thoroughly. "Kiss me," he answered simply, if a little delayed. "And then go to bed. I can handle the kids tomorrow."

Sydney turned from his arms to gaze out the window again. "I couldn't," she whispered after a moment. "Not today… I don't know why."

"It's all right, baby," he said softly, wanting to hold her in his arms, but careful not to upset her. "You're just overwhelmed."

"I've done worse stuff than this, Mike." A hell of a lot worse. Why was it that she could handle the extraordinary, impossible, crazy events that life had handed her before, but not the seemingly normal ones now?

"I know." He hated seeing her like this. He loved being able to spend every spare minute with her, but he liked it even more when she was happy, when she smiled. "But you know what? I think you just need a break. Let's go away this weekend, just you and me. To Santa Barbara."

Sydney turned to face him. "But the kids…"

"The twins can stay with my mother, and Jacky can take Hailey," he offered. "They'd love it."

"Michael, they're sick. You don't want to get your mother or your sister's kids…"

"It's Tuesday, Syd," he interrupted her, his voice smooth and patient, but his eyes pleading with her just to accept his offer, telling her that they needed some time alone. "They'll be fine by Friday."

There had to be some catch in this plan, something that would prevent it. They loved their kids more than anything, but the two of them hadn't been able to spend a night alone since Hailey was born. "But…"

"But nothing. My mother and Jacky already agreed to take them."

"Donovan," she said quickly, not exactly sure why she was fighting this. They hadn't spent a night without kids in four years. And maybe that was why. Maybe, for all her frustration with them, she didn't want to spend a night away. It would be difficult… but it would also be just what she needed; heaven, paradise, just for one weekend.

"Eric already agreed to come up to feed him and let him out. And Francie said she'd take care of your flowers. They were more than happy to do it. They can't have any pets in their apartment, and little Drew's already so excited; he loves Donovan.

"Wow, you took care of everything," Sydney mused, raising her eyebrows in awed appreciation. Everything that she could think of, every hole, every tear, every loose thread that she could possibly imagine might in some way prevent them from a weekend of bliss had been smoothed over, prevented from occurring. He had taken care of absolutely everything.

"I had a few extra minutes after I called you and before everything got crazy at work," he said, shrugging. "You sounded like you needed a little vacation."

"Thank you," she murmured, finding herself in his arms again. He hugged her tightly and then tenderly lifted her chin and leaned down, searching for her lips. He brushed against them briefly, but the moment was quickly ruined when they heard wailing from the other room. "It's Jonny," Sydney mumbled leaning against his shoulder.

"How can you tell?" Michael asked, obviously bewildered, but trying to hide it.

"I don't know." She raised her head and peered up at him. "They just sound different."

"It sounds more like William," Michael responded thoughtfully, trying to prove to her that he did know their kids just as well as (if not better than) she did.

"It's Jonny," Sydney answered, smiling at his attempt to prove himself, but quick to demonstrate that he was wrong. "And you better hurry; William will start up any minute. Want some help?"

"No," he responded, shaking his head. "It's my turn now. You go to sleep."

"I'll wait for you to come back," Sydney murmured, still dead tired, but suddenly wanting more than anything not to fall asleep until she was in his arms.

Michael kissed the top of her head and left, heading into the twins' room, not bothering to turn on a light because the nightlight shone so brightly. Jonny was standing against the bars of his crib, tears streaming down his chubby little cheeks. Miraculously, William was still sound asleep in his crib across the room.

Jonny held out his arms to his father as soon as he walked into the room. "Hey, buddy," Michael murmured, careful to sidestep the vomit that had luckily landed over the side of the crib and onto the floor. He picked up his son and cradled him in his arms, the little boy clinging to him tightly.

"Daddy…" Jonny whimpered between tears, rubbing his dirty face into Michael's shirt. The old Michael, the one before Sydney came into his life, would have been disgusted, would have hated to be dirty. But this Michael, the husband, the father, didn't care; he held his son closer, patting his back to calm him.

"Shhh, buddy. It's okay," Michael whispered, glancing at William as the younger twin stirred in his crib. "Come on. We don't want to wake your brother."

"Yum Yum," Jonny answered sadly, holding a hand out to his brother, and saying his name the best he knew how. William could manage to say Jonny's name pretty well when he actually did talk, but his own name was a little too difficult for his brother to manage.

"He's sleeping," Michael responded quietly, surprised that the seemingly invulnerable of the twins actually did need his brother for strength. "Tomorrow you can play with him." Jonny looked once again at his brother and nodded. His tears were already subsiding into hiccups, but Michael led him from the room anyway, taking him down to the bathroom to wash off his face.

Jonny was already falling asleep in his arms when Michael brought him back to his room, and by the time he had finished cleaning up the floor, both boys were fast asleep. He left their room with a whispered goodnight, stopping in Hailey's room before returning to his own and picking the little girl's covers up off the floor and tucking her back in.

"You were right. It was…" Michael began as he walked back into the room he shared with Sydney, but quickly stopped. The lights were still on and he hadn't even been gone ten minutes, but Sydney was already fast asleep on the bed, lying top of the blankets. She had had a long day.

He changed out of his work clothes and made sure the alarm was set before gently moving Sydney off the blankets and underneath them. She stirred and mumbled, her voice slurred with sleep, "Mike, save some cookies for the kids…"

"I will," he promised, smiling as he dropped a soft kiss on her lips. She moved when he touched her, but still didn't wake. Something seemed to be bothering her, even in her sleep, and she murmured something unintelligible and thrashed about. Michael wanted desperately to know what was bothering her, but couldn't find it in his heart to wake her.

"G'night, gorgeous," he whispered, pulling the covers up around her. He moved to his side of the bed and lay down beside her. Somehow, Sydney sensed his presence and snuggled against him. Michael put his arms around her and within seconds, she quieted. He lay awake for hours, watching her sleep in his arms, until he finally nodded off and found her again in his dreams.