Sex, Birth, Death

Ian stood in the doorway to Declan's room, watching the two most important people in his life.

Declan had already been asleep when Emily had gotten home from work, but she couldn't resist saying good night to him anyway – she always said good night, no matter what.

He tried not to make a habit of letting the boy stay up past his bedtime, but in all the time she'd been in their lives, he'd never gone to sleep without saying good night to Emily first. And when he'd tried to put him to bed, Declan had been absolutely inconsolable over the absence of her. In the end, he figured that since it wasn't a school night, there was no real harm in letting the boy stay awake until Emily arrived home.

For her part, though she tried to act annoyed that he'd let him stay up, he could tell that Emily was glad she could say good night to him. But when she went into his bedroom, she found him splayed haphazardly across the bed, simply too tuckered out to stay awake long enough.

She'd laughed quietly at his awkward sleeping position, even if her smile was a little sad and he could read her thoughts a mile away: he doesn't need me anymore. She'd pulled his blankets up over top of him, tucking him in with tenderness that only a mother possesses.

She sat on the edge of the bed, stroking his soft curls. "I missed you today," she told his sleeping form. "I missed you so much, Schnecke."

"He missed you too, Love," Ian said quietly, announcing his presence, even though he knew she knew he'd been watching her. He crossed the room to rest a hand on her shoulder. "He wanted so badly to stay awake for you."

She reached across her body to squeeze his hand. She looked up at him with tender eyes and a soft smile. "I missed you too..."

"I know."

He wondered sometimes, how he'd ended up with all this. How an undercover agent sent to ruin him had instead wound up loving his son and accepting him as her own, loving him... He was admittedly a lapsed Catholic, but everyday he thanked God for giving him her.

She picked up the stuffed snail she'd had specially made for him up off the floor where it had slipped from his grasp and tucked it under his arm. He slept with it every night without fail. She kissed Declan on the forehead and whispered to him, "Never stop loving me this much."

"Marry me."

Emily laughed a little around a mouthful of toothpaste. Putting away her toothbrush, she spit into the sink and spun around to give him a you're being ridiculous look and instead of playful teasing, found his expression entirely serious. "What are you talking about, Ian?"

"Marry me," he said again. "I want you to be my wife."

She pounced on the bed, crawling up so she was straddling his hips. She wrapped her fingers around his, staring down at his hands as if afraid to see what was in his eyes. "We've talked about it – I told you, I'm not the marrying type."

With one hand, he tipped up her chin to look into her eyes. "Lauren wasn't," he corrected, "But you...I think you could be convinced."

She unconsciously reached up to toy with the ring hanging around her neck. "Who said I want to marry you?" she challenged, unable to resist teasing him just a little, if only because his grin was entirely too sure of himself.

"You wouldn't be here if you didn't – you gave up everything to be with me..." he pointed out.

She chewed her lip thoughtfully. He had a point. She'd given up any future she'd had with Interpol or the CIA. She'd cut off ties with her family, knowing they wouldn't understand. She'd lost her friendships with her team – including a quasi-romantic relationship with Clyde – because they definitely had not understood.

But she'd also gained a family and she found it really hard to regret that, no matter what the cost had been.

She sighed dramatically, but couldn't help the mischievous smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Fine. I'll marry you."

He pulled her down to kiss her properly. She giggled as he rolled her underneath him, pinning her down as he kissed her. He removed the chain from around her neck so that he could slip the ring onto her finger.

He kissed her knuckles softly. "So, you want to officially be a Doyle?"

She laughed. "Oh, I'll be keeping my name, Mister."

Then, little footsteps were heard at the door, interrupting anything risque that might have followed, considering the fact that his hand was already travelling up her thigh.

Ian sighed dramatically, rolling off her and attempting to hide his hard on under a pillow. "C'mere, Declan," he beckoned.

The boy scampered across the room and up onto the bed, burrowing between them. "Mommy didn't say good night to me," he said with a dramatic pout.

"I did too," Emily replied. "You fell asleep, so you didn't know it, but I promise I did."

He frowned, eyes narrowed in disbelief and in that moment, she swore father and son had never looked more alike.

She changed the subject, asking, "Do you want me to marry Daddy?"

"Marry?" he repeated.

"We'll be a real family," Ian explained.

"Me too?" he asked, not wanting to be left out.

"Yes, you're part of the family too, Buddy," Emily agreed.

"Okay," he said with a shrug, not really understanding.

Emily laughed, mussing his hair. "A family," she echoed softly, eyes crinkling at the sides with her smile. "My boys."

Declan quickly lost interest in the matter. "Can you tuck me in?" he asked, tugging on the hem of her shirt. "And read me Mortimer?" She scooped him into her arms, pressing kisses to his face until he dissolved into a fit of giggles.

"Hurry back..." Ian called after her, voice laden with implication of exactly what he was going to do to her when she returned.