"Are you sure this is how you want to handle this, Jordan?" Drew asked as he moved closer to the building they were standing in front of and out of the way of the steady flow of people.
Jordan looked up from the spot that she was kneeling. A hand was resting on the handle of the stroller for balance while the other hand was wiping clean two, very dirty, face. She gave her husband of a year and half a small smile before turning her attention back to her task. "I really don't know how you two get so filthy." She huffed as she used the baby wipe to try and remove more of the several different colored stains that covered both of the children's faces. "Drew, what did you feed them this morning, paint?" She stuffed the, now multi colored, baby wipe into the diaper bag which resting on the sidewalk beside her.
Drew rolled his eyes. "Yes Jordan. I fed our children paint for breakfast." His wife could be annoying at times but he loved her all the same. "Now that you have successfully avoided my question, care to answer?" He raised an eyebrow.
"Drew, this is the only way this can be handled. They don't like the FBI. They ain't going to give us the information we need if we go about this the wrong way." Jordan finally stood, satisfied that her children were clean. "This is the quickest, easiest and most effective way to do this. Just trust me, Drew. I know these people so I know what I'm doing." She gave him a full fledged smile before turning her attention back to the stroller. "Now you two behave for daddy, ok?"
One year old twins Addison and Mason just watched their mother and father with passing interest. They were more interested in all the people walking past them. A few of them had stopped and now they wanted more attention from the passing strangers. Finding none, full attention was turned back to their parents. On hearing their mother mention their father, both heads nodded. Neither really understanding what their mother was talking about but if it concerned their father, then it was all good.
Addison and Mason were considered beautiful babies and even more beautiful toddlers. They had light brown hair, bordering on dark blonde, and golden brown eyes. They were the perfect combination of their mother and father. Addison had her fathers quiet disposition and even as a baby she never made a fuss. Mason, on the other hand, was truly his mothers son. The boy had the ability to find trouble and get into it...anywhere. He might be the oldest but that wasn't supposed to be the case. Addison was first in line to come out but during the twenty-five hours of labor, the babies somehow shifted and it was a red-faced screaming Mason that came out first followed by a scowling Addison, like she knew that her brother had beat her by coming out first. The scowl becoming a running joke in the family since Jordan had been known to use the same exact expression from time to time.
"I'll be fine, Jordan. You'd better get in there before Whitney comes out here and drags you in. She's thrilled to be getting off this assignment. These people scare her." Drew smirked.
Jordan eyed her husband and shook her head. "They manage to scare every single Agent that gets placed here. What is the number up to? Twelve? Thirteen? And that is just in two years." She looked up at the building she was standing in front of. Today she was not Agent Jordan Cavanaugh, she took the last name of Haley except at work she kept her maiden name to avoid confusion. Today she was just plain old Jordan who was coming back to Boston after two years of being MIA. This was the only logical way she could think of to get the information on the Carpandoro case without too much fuss. Charging in as the FBI would only get them stonewalled and she didn't need that right now. She wanted to get the information that she came from and go back to D.C. "Remember to stop by for lunch." She leaned over and gave each child a kiss on the head and then straightened, giving her husband a peck on the lips. "Lunch!" She called out as she disappeared into the building that housed the Medical Examiners office. Taking the elevator she arrived at the familiar floor and stepped off. Closing her eyes, she was greeted with the familiar sounds and smells that she had secretly missed. "Showtime." She smoothed out the non-existent wrinkles from her crisp white button down shirt and picked a small piece of lint from her pressed, black slacks. She adjusted her black designer jacket as she moved towards the reception area. It was now or never.