After a much-needed tryst in the storage room, Sydney and Michael slip away from the gallery without saying goodbye to anyone; on Monday, Sydney knows that Michael will call Neil and say he's sorry he didn't say goodbye, but that his wife didn't feel well-- morning sickness in the evening, wouldn't you know. He'll tell Jake the same, but he'll let a devilish glint creep into his eye, and Jake will shake his head and say something derisive like, "You two have a serious problem."

"Well, I wouldn't exactly call it a problem," Michael will say with a smile.

Jake will clap Michael on the shoulder. "I'd certainly call four rugrats a problem, but then, that's just me. See you later, Mike."

Michael and Sydney go home in comfortable, sated silence. "What time did we tell Amanda?" Michael wonders as he turns the car onto their street.

"Midnight." Sydney glances at her watch. It's not much past ten o'clock. "Maybe she'll get home early enough that she can actually go meet up with her friends, or something."

"Did she drive over?" Michael asks, frowning at the sight of the Jeep that sits in their driveway.

"That wasn't here when we left," Sydney responds.

Michael's frown deepens, and they start into the house warily. It's dark, save for the glow of the TV in the living room, which illuminates the figures of two teenagers on the couch, making out fiercely.

Michael turns on the living room's light, and Amanda and a teenaged boy Sydney doesn't recognize jump apart.

"God, I'm sorry!" Amanda yelps. "I didn't think you'd be home till-- I'm sorry!"

"Amanda--" Michael stops suddenly, and Sydney glances at him. He looks as if he is unsure quite how to react to this. "I know we've never specifically discussed whether or not you could have-- um-- friends over when you baby-sit--"

"Oh, God," Amanda mutters, looking as if she wishes the floor would swallow her up. The young man seems unconcerned.

"--But this is really inappropriate," Michael continues. "You're supposed to be watching our kids. I know they're asleep, but--"

"Daddeeee!"

Michael's eyes widen as Emily flies into the room and into her father's arms. "Princess," he says, surprised.

"Hi, Mommy," Emily adds, twisting in her father's arms to kiss her mother's cheek.

"Emily, darling, what are you doing up?" Sydney asks.

"I got up to ask Manda for a glass of water." Michael shoots Amanda a look that plainly says, that's why you don't make out with your boyfriend in our living room. "Hi, Manda! Hi, Jason!"

Sydney watches as Michael's eyes pop at the realization that his daughter knows this boy's name. "Emily, sweetheart," Michael says slowly. "How many times have you met Jason before?"

"Um--"

"You know, Amanda and I are standing right here," Jason speaks up for the first time. He is slightly grungy, Sydney notes, in baggy jeans and a t-shirt bearing the logo of a band she's never heard of, but not unattractive. "You don't have to ask a three-year-old--"

"I'm almost four," Emily interrupts.

"Look, let's not make this into a bigger deal than it needs to be," Sydney cuts in smoothly. "Like you said, Michael, we've never discussed whether or not Amanda can have friends over--"

"Oh, God," Amanda mutters. Sydney has never seen her face so red.

"--but Amanda, it really is inappropriate of you to invite guests into our home without permission, and we'd like for this not to happen again. Understood?"

"Yes," Amanda replies meekly.

"Good," Sydney says. "Now, Emily, sweetheart, come with Mommy to go check on Gracie. Michael, why don't you pay her and-- you'll give her a ride home, Jason?"

"Yeah," Jason says sullenly.

"Come upstairs when you're done," Sydney tells Michael as she takes Emily from him, kissing his cheek. "And be nice," she whispers in his ear.

She puts Emily down, and the two of them walk upstairs together; when they reach Grace's room, Sydney lifts her again so that she can look into Grace's crib.

"Do you like her jammies, Mommy?" Emily whispers. "I helped Manda pick them out."

"You're a good big sister to help with her," Sydney says fondly, kissing her daughter's cheek. "Can you believe that when the new baby comes, Grace will be a big sister, too?"

"She'll be too little to help you much as me, though," Emily tells her.

Sydney smiles at the slight hint of defensiveness in Emily's voice. She can't help but wonder if in a couple of years, Grace and Emily will race to the front door when Michael comes home, fighting to be the first to get hugs and kisses from Daddy. "Yes, she will," she agrees. "Now let's get you a glass of water and get you back to bed, okay, darling?"

"Okay!"

Sydney gets her daughter a glass of water and settles her into bed. "Goodnight, sweetheart."

"Mommy?"

"Yes?"

Emily hesitates. "It's okay if the baby's a girl," she says. "I want it to be a boy, but if it's not, it's okay."

"Well, that's good to hear," Sydney says with a smile.

Emily smiles back. "What will the new baby look like?"

Sydney laughs. "I don't know, sweetheart. Like me and Daddy."

Emily considers. "Will he have brown eyes like you and me?"

"Maybe." Sydney suddenly has a vision of a little boy with brown hair and brown eyes like her, and Michael's killer smile. Jack has that smile, too, as well as Michael's green eyes; Sydney can just imagine him charming the young ladies with that grin when he gets older.

"What are you thinking about, Mommy?"

Sydney smiles at her daughter. "About how much Jack is going to look like your daddy when he gets big."

"When I get big, will I be pretty as you?"

Sydney can't help but feel touched by the question. "You think I'm pretty?"

"Daddy thinks you're beautiful."

Sydney's smile softens. "Yeah, I think he does." She brushes a few strands of hair away from her daughter's forehead. "I think you'll be even prettier than me."

"Really?"

"Really."

Emily thinks for a minute. "Will I get married and have babies?"

"If you want to," Sydney tells her. "You can have and be anything you want."

"Good," Emily decides. "A-cause I want to be a mommy. And a doctor and a ballerina."

"A ballerina, huh?" Sydney and Emily both look up to see Michael standing in the doorway. "Would you like to learn how to be a ballerina, sweetheart?"

"Yes."

Michael approaches the bed. "We'll have to see what we can do about that, okay, sweetheart?" he says, catching Sydney's eye. "Maybe you can start taking ballet classes."

"Good." Emily grins. "Goodnight, Mommy. Goodnight, Daddy."

"Goodnight, sweetheart."