A/N: I still have several chapters planned for this story, but I've been dabbling with the idea of starting a second one with Emily and Derek. As a new writer, I'd welcome your feedback on whether that would be something you're interested in reading. For now, enjoy some more Prentiss-Mendoza family fluff.

"Hey, mom?"

I smile hearing Keely's voice from the doorway of my bedroom. Even four months later, my heart still beats a little faster every time she calls me mom. I turn from where I'm standing at the end of the bed folding laundry. "What's up, sweetie?"

Keely makes her way over to the bed, sitting down. "Can you take me shopping?" She asks, reaching into the laundry basket and helping to fold.

"Sure. What are you looking for?"

"Just, a new outfit." She replies almost tentatively.

"Ah, would this have anything to do with your upcoming date with Ethan?"

"No... maybe. Yes." Keely sighs, ducking her head and twisting her fingers in her lap. "Nothing in my closet feels right. And I know he doesn't like me for how I look, considering I'm in athletic wear 90% of the time, but I still want to look good."

I gently place a hand over hers, halting her nervous fidgeting, and she looks up at me. "You don't have to explain yourself, Kee. I get it, I do. I'd be happy to take you shopping."

"Thanks!"

"Your dad and Stella are on the way home from the grocery store, and I'll need to feed her when they get back, but we can go after that if you want."

"Yes, please." She nods.

"Alright, I'm going to finish folding here. Can you go preheat the oven to 375? Your dad said he's picking up some frozen spanakopita for lunch and I'll whip up a caprese salad to go along."

"Ooh, yay! That's my favorite and I'm starving!" I laugh at Keely's eager movements to leave the room and turn the oven on, as if Andrew will somehow be home quicker and get the food cooked faster if she hurries.

I look at the clock then, grimacing slightly at the time. It was 12:10pm, and Stella eats at noon like clockwork. The last month had been a big adjustment in regard to Stella's feedings. The first few weeks of February, she'd started getting fussier, not sleeping as well, and wasn't gaining weight. After a visit with her pediatrician and consultation with a lactation specialist, we found out I wasn't producing enough milk to keep up with Stella's needs.

It took reassurance from JJ and Savannah to get over the feelings of failure that I felt knowing I wasn't able to provide for Stella. After many tears on both Stella's and my part and trying three different types of formulas, Stella was finally getting back to her content, easygoing self. At her four-month appointment last week, she'd gained 1.5lbs and I cried on the phone to Andrew in the car afterwards because I was so happy.

Now, I breastfed for her 12pm, 8pm and 4am feedings and we formula fed her for the feedings in between. Stella ate every four hours without fail and I knew she was likely getting fussy for Andrew. Sure enough, when he came in the house 10 minutes later, it was with a very unhappy Stella crying in her car seat. I quickly pulled Stella out and brought her upstairs to the nursery for a feeding.

####

"I know, sweet girl. Just give mommy a minute." I spoke softly as Stella tried to root against my still covered breast. Settling in the rocking chair, I quickly unbuttoned my blouse, freeing one side and adjusting Stella against me, reveling in the feeling as she eagerly latched on. I savored this time with her, especially now that it was less frequent. While it was nice for Andrew to be able to take on some of her feedings, especially the midnight one, I missed the closeness that comes from breastfeeding vs bottle feeding.

"Now she's a happy camper." Andrew's voice startles me out of my reverie and I look up to see him making his way over to us.

"How long was she crying?"

"The whole drive home. The line in the grocery store was atrociously long and I knew it wasn't going to end well."

"She definitely doesn't like not being kept to her schedule." I chuckle, running my fingers through Stella's fine, wispy curls.

"Keely said you guys are going to go out for a bit?"

"Mhmm, we're going to do some shopping. I know you have your afternoon with your work buddies though, so I'll take Stella."

"Actually, I was wondering if you can leave her with me?"

I raise my brow. "You want to take Stella to a bar?" He looks guilty at that. "Don't think I don't know you guys grab a few beers after you play hoops. It's not a bad thing but you can't expect me to let you bring Stella."

Andrew sighs. "I don't want to go. If I have Stella, it gives me a legitimate excuse to back out."

"What? Why not?"

"The bureau is making some cuts, and it looks like I'm going to have to lay off a few people in my department. I don't have the heart to go have a fun afternoon with the guys when I'm going to have to call a few of them into my office Monday morning and let them go. How did you do it as unit chief? Being a boss and a friend."

"That was a way different situation." I start as I pass Stella off to Andrew, buttoning my blouse back up as I continue. "I was friends with almost everyone on the team long before I became the boss, and we all had a tremendous amount of respect for each other and our roles. But when I was running the Interpol office in London, I wasn't close with any of my subordinates. In fact, most people probably thought I was a cold-hearted bitch." I laugh, but it turns to a sigh when Andrew only half-smiles. "I won't tell you that you should go today, frankly I probably wouldn't if I was in your place either, but your team knows you and they won't blame you for doing your job."

"I know." He nods as he gently pats Stella's back.

"Hey." I wait to continue until he looks at me again. "I love you."

He smiles then, a full smile, and leans in for a quick kiss. "I love you, too."

"Let's go eat." I take his free hand as I stand, leading him back downstairs for lunch.

####

"What do you think of this one?" Keely asks, stepping out of the dressing room in a casual blue skater dress.

"Where are you guys going?" I ask, wanting to know the venue before I begin judging outfits.

"Topgolf."

I bite my lip and shake my head. "You look lovely, but I don't think you really want to wear a dress there."

"That's true." She nods in agreement, closing the door and trying on outfit number two. She goes through three more outfits before she finally finds the right one.

She comes out in a pair of dark, high waisted skinny jeans that are ripped at the knee and a wide striped cream and burnt orange sweater. "Perfect."

"Yeah?" Her smile is wide and I can tell she likes it, too.

"Definitely. What do you say we go find a new pair of shoes to go with it?"

"Really?"

"Of course. A girl can never have too many shoes." I wink, knowing she's seen my own extensive shoe collection.

A half an hour later Keely and I are driving home with only the sound of the radio filling the car, until Keely speaks up that is.

"I know I don't say it enough but thank you." She says quietly.

"For what, sweetie?"

"For being there. For being my mom."

I reach across the console, squeezing her hand briefly. "It's my honor."