Title: The Dance

Author: Mackenzie

Email: "Las Vegas"

Category: General/Reflective

Disclaimers: I don't own 'em, don't claim to own 'em, don't sue.

Author's Notes: In answer to Leah's challenge over at my board. "The Dance" is sung by Garth Brooks and can be found on Brooks' debut CD. Also, I'm going to take a lot of creative liberty with this story, so if GST or anybody over at NBC reads this, don't bother suing. I've got a crappy job that pays an even crappier salary and the only thing I have of value is my computer, and, well, I'm afraid that isn't even very valuable.

1/

Ed Deline got out of his silver Aston Martin sports car and closed the door. Circling around the car, he reached into the open window of the passenger's side and grabbed the box that had been resting on the leather of the seat for almost two weeks now.

Sighing, the man walked up the grassy knoll of Palm Memorial Cemetery and lowered his head in respect for the dead. Not needing to look to see where he was going, it pained Deline to know that he knew exactly where he had to go, he had the exact location seared into his memory, the massive oak tree that stood a towering beacon over the granite headstone, the headstone itself with the name inscribed deep into the rock.

Reaching the crest of the bluff, Ed's internal compass led him directly to where he needed to go. Saying nothing when he reached the headstone, he simply sat down on the concrete bench that had been purchased and placed there, another memorial to the person who had been resting in the mahogany casket for the past nine years.

Setting the box beside him, Ed remembered the teasing he got from various people when he used four whole rolls of packing tape and an additional roll of duct tape, making sure that nobody could open it.

"Why go to the trouble of putting a box together for somebody, only to seal it up so nobody can ever open it?"

Shaking his head, the man let out a deep sigh. He so wanted to tell the story to his protégée who asked him the question, however, everytime he mustered up the courage to share the story with the younger man, it failed him.

Ed lifted his intense blue eyes up and stared at the stone, more specifically, the characters which created up the name: Joseph Martin Deline. His Joey. Closing his eyes, he thought back to the day when his wife first told him that she was going to have a baby.

"Where is my husband?"

Jillian Deline stood before a metal desk in the headquarters of the Central Intelligence Agency, a four year old Delinda squirming to get out of her mother's grasp. The woman behind the desk looked up at Jillian, "Mrs. Deline, I'm sorry, Agent Deline is in a meeting right now, if it's important, I can have him called out, but only if it is a matter of strictest urgency."

The blonde haired woman sighed in frustration, "It's..." she paused, knowing that the secretary would take the message down, word for word, and deliver it to her boss. Groaning inwardly, Jillian knew that she didn't want her husband to find out she was pregnant again via a note from his secretary. "Yes," she said, "I need to speak with him immediately."

Regarding the other woman, the petite redhead nodded, "Okay," she said, "you and your daughter can have a seat over there and I'll have him come and meet you."

"Thank you," Jillian responded with a smile as she picked the little girl up and took her over and sat down.

"Mommy, where's daddy?" a curious Delinda asked as she suddenly became fascinated with the necklace that her mother was wearing.

"He'll be here in a minute, honey," she smiled, curling a lock of her daughter's sunny blonde hair around her finger.

The two remained seated for almost fifteen minutes and finally Jillian was shaken out of her daydream when she heard her daughter squealing in delight.

"Daddy!"

Jumping off her mother's lap, Delinda raced to where her father was walking towards him. "Buttercup!" He met her and then knelt down and picked her up. Swinging her around, peals of laughter filled the open hallway as a little girl was placed on the shoulders of her father.

Ed grinned as he approached his wife. Jillian rose to her feet and shook her head, smiling softly as she walked over to her husband, kissing his cheek, "I think I'm jealous, she never gets that excited to see me."

Ed laughed as he wrapped an arm around his wife, "Come on," he said as he led his small family to his office, "I have exactly twelve minutes before my next meeting."

"Twelve minutes, huh?" Jillian asked as she looked up and pulled a piece of lint off her husband's lapel, "Well, I got some news for you and I don't think I can do it in twelve minutes."

Rolling his eyes, he quickly winced and then glared up at his daughter, "Nature is taking care of my hair loss quite fine on its own, Dee, no need to pull the strands out one by one."

Delinda giggled as she patted her father's head, "Sorry, daddy, there was a pretty silver one that I wanted."

Sighing, he looked at his wife, "Who in the hell gave her the idea to start saving strands of our hair?"

Giggling, Jillian shook her head, "I have no idea."

Ed reached his office and then grabbed his daughter and put her on the floor, "Here, let daddy get you some papers and markers and you can color, okay?"

The little girl nodded in excitement as she watched her father go around his desk. Opening some drawers, Ed pulled out some typing paper and a red, black, and blue sharpie pen and handed them to his daughter, who promptly made a face, "Daddy, these are boy colors!"

Suppressing the urge to laugh at his daughters girlishness, he said, "Well, sweetie, I'm a boy, I'm sorry, I don't have any pretty girl colors, can you just make do with those while mommy and daddy talk?"

Delinda sighed with as much drama as a four-year-old could muster, "I suppose."

"I appreciate it," he said, planting a kiss on her forehead and then walking over to the olive green vinyl couch that was along the opposite wall of his office. Sitting down next to his wife, his hand casually dropped to her knee, "What's going on?"

Jillian smiled in adoration at her husband. Knowing their daughter was in the room and had a wild imagination, she began with trepidation, "I went to the d-o-c-t-o-r this morning while she was at her friend's house."

Ed nodded, "And? Is everything okay?"

His wife grinned widely as she took his hands in her's, "Eddie, I'm going to have a b-a-b-y."

The man looked at her, stunned, "A b-a-b-y? Are they sure?"

She nodded, "Yep."

"Holy shit!" He exclaimed as he hugged her, "Oh my god, honey," he laughed, kissing her. "Is everything okay? Did he say when you are due?"

Jillian laughed at her husband's excitement, "He predicted sometime in late October, which means I'll have to carry through the summer." She made the face at the thought of being pregnant during the heat of the summer.

"We'll get you through it," he promised as he kissed her.

"Holy shit!"

Ed and Jillian's heads whipped over to the sound of the voice and four eyes narrowed at the girl. "Delinda," Jillian admonished gently, "that isn't a good word to say."

"Daddy said it," she pointed out.

"Daddy was wrong," her mother said, shooting a look at her husband.

"Does he get his mouth washed out with soap like Janie Perkins did when she said a bad word?" The girl asked curiously.

Ed coughed loud to mask his laugh. Quickly catching a sight of his wife's unamused face, he sobered up. "I was wrong to say that, buttercup," he said, "and I'm sorry, but that doesn't mean that you get to say it, okay?"

Delinda nodded as she continued to color, "Okay, daddy."

Watching his daughter, he smiled at her as he held a hand out to her, "Come here," he said, inviting her over.

Pushing the chair away from the desk, Delinda jumped out of it and skipped over to where her parents were seated and looked at them, "Scoot over," she ordered, gently pushing them apart. Once there was sufficient room, she flopped down between them and smoothed her pink and white gingham dress.

Jillian smiled down at her, "Sweetie, guess what? Mommy's going to have another baby, isn't that exciting?"

The little girl's wide smile quickly faded, "Another baby?" Looking at her parents, she asked softly, "I won't get to be mommy and daddy's princess anymore?"

"You will always be our special princess, buttercup," Ed assured her as he pulled his daughter into his lap, "Wouldn't you like a little brother or sister to play with though? They can be a lot of fun."

"But you said you don't like your brothers and sisters, Daddy," she said, confusion in her voice.

Ed began to stammer, "Um," he said as he ran a hand through his reddish brown hair, "they are okay," he said, "they were a lot of fun when we were younger though."

Delinda nodded as she wedged herself back between her parents and got quiet. After a few minutes, Jillian glanced at her husband and then at her daughter. Concern in her voice, she said, "Sweetie? Are you okay?"

The little girl nodded slowly, "Can I help name him?"

Smiling, her mother nodded, "Absolutely, we want your input every step of the way."

Delinda's small face cracked in a smile as she wrapped her arms around her mother's neck, "I'm really excited now."

Laughing, Jillian hugged her daughter and nodded, "I'm glad."

Releasing her mother, Delinda climbed back into her father's lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. Bringing her face so close to her father's that their noses touched, she whispered softly, "Hey, daddy, guess what?"

Ed grinned, he loved these moments, "What?"

"I'm going to be a big sister."

Grinning, he kissed the tip of her nose, "Really?" He asked, his voice feigning surprise, "Wow! Hey, buttercup, guess what?"

The little girl looked intensely at her father, "What?"

"I'm going to be a daddy again."

She giggled as she squeezed his neck.