It had been a chance meeting that brought Samuel Eller and Paul Avery together. Leaning against the hood of his Lexus in the police department's parking lot, Eller had been dragging on a cigarette, blowing out smoke and steam. He was calculating a plan. Ecklie would paid. There was no other choice. To Eller, life was black and white. He had never believed in that shades of grey shit. People were either right or wrong. Good or evil. Right then, he didn't care which category he fell into as long as he had vengeance against those who had wronged him. But the question was: could he manage it alone? No, not in the spectacular fashion he had imagined. He needed a partner.
As luck would have it, Paul Avery was being escorted out of the building by an officer at that very moment. "Tell your sheriff that he's an ass," Avery said as parting words to the officer as he was shoved out the door. Disheveled and disoriented, he stumbled in the parking lot. Eller watched him, contemplating.
"You look like you could use a smoke," he said holding out his pack of cigarettes to Avery as he walked by. Avery looked at Eller, eyes flickering.
"I could use a drink," he said drily.
Eller smiled, putting his cigarettes back in his jacket pocket. "Hop in. I'll drive."

Ecklie wanted to slam Eller against a wall. He wanted to knock him out. Kill him even. But he wanted to give Morgan a hug more. Terrified and hurt Morgan. His little girl.
"Let her go," he demanded, his despair evident. "I'm here. Take me instead." He stood in front of Morgan now, eyes pleading.
"Turn around and put your hands on your head. No sudden movements. You understand?" Eller barked and Ecklie complied. He felt the cold barrel of the gun pressed up against the back of his skull.
Eller released Morgan. She stepped back from them, shellshocked. She wanted to call out to her dad, to apologize, to plead with him to not to go, not to do this. But the pain of another contraction brought her to her knees as she let out a scream. Suddenly, Greg was next to her, hand on her shoulder. Two EMTs followed him with a gurney. She looked up to see her father one more time, but he was gone. Eller had already dragged him inside the diner.

The night of their first meeting Eller took Avery out to a honky tonk dive bar at the edge of town. The place was usually deserted and the alcohol, cheap. They sat at the bar as he ordered two whiskey sours. A few drinks later, Avery had spilt his whole story. How his family had been brutally murdered. How he had gone to the police station to demand answers. How Ecklie had brushed him off with a thin apology and how in anger he had grabbed the sheriff by the collar causing his guarded exit.
"He apologized, but he was so damn arrogant. Like it rolled off him. Like situations like that don't touch him." Avery downed a shot of tequila. Eller agreed, telling his version of his own tale of grief and an angry encounter with the sheriff.
"We should show him how it feel," Avery said, sloshed.
"My thoughts exactly," Eller replied before laying out his plan for revenge.

In the time since his family's deaths, Avery had become a drunk. Drinking at night to silence the ghosts, then drinking to escape the silence. But as Eller dragged Ecklie in and zip tied him to the back of a chair, Avery was stone cold sober for the first time in months. It made him unsteady and full of regret. Talking about it was one thing. Doing it, well that was quite another. He was starting to see Eller for the madman he really was, now that alcohol wasn't clouding his vision.
"I'd hate to kill you right away, Sheriff. Where would be the fun in that?" Eller toyed with him. He picked up a large bladed knife from the counter by the kitchen. "Maybe we should watch you suffer and bleed a little before I shoot you."
Avery suddenly saw an image of his son flash in his mind. His precious little boy. He was not the father he used to be, not the man his son looked up to. He was no better than the man who had killed him. The thought made him ill. He had to rectify this. He couldn't die tonight and face his son again as a monster. Eller had his back to him. He never saw the frying pan as it crashed against his skull, cracking it. He fell dead, as blood pooled around his head.
Ecklie looked up at Avery, his expression a mix of surprise and horror. Avery took the revolver from Eller's lifeless hand. Ecklie braced himself for the impact, closing his eyes. Avery said a prayer as he pulled the trigger, the bullet blasting his brains out the side of his head, sending him finally home to his family.
The sound of the gun brought the SWAT team crashing through the door.

Greg sat on the edge of the hospital bed cradling his infant daughter as Morgan slept beside them. It had been a harrowing ordeal, but she was finally here. She had all twenty fingers and toes, her mother's lips, and her father's eyes. To Greg, she was pure perfection.
"How's everyone doing?" Sara stood in the doorway, watching the adoration between father and daughter.
"I'm in love. Sara, she's incredible. Come meet my daughter," he said standing up to walk to her. Sara peeked at the wiggly pink newborn. "Meet Grace Lillian Sanders."
"She's gorgeous, Greg." Sara smiled.
"That's all Morgan. I'm just hoping she gets my sense of humor," he said rocking the baby gently.
"God help us," Sara teased. "How is Morgan?" They both looked over at her slumbering figure.
"She's sleeping. They gave her a sedative. She was still kind of hysterical after the baby came."
"Does she know about Ecklie yet?" Sara asked. Grace grabbed Greg's finger and cooed. His eyes went soft, his heart full. A knock interrupted them.
"Conrad." Sara looked towards the broken man standing at the door. There was an awkward pause. "I should be going," Sara continued. She patted Greg on the back. "Congratulations, Dad," she said smiling as she left.
Greg stood in front of Ecklie, his daughter in his arms. "Conrad, I don't think I will be ever able to thank you enough. If you hadn't done what you did, I can't even imagine what would have happened to Morgan and Grace."
"Grace?" Ecklie looked down at the little girl in Greg's arms.
"Meet your granddaughter. This is Grace. Do you want to hold her?" Ecklie nodded and Greg placed the baby in his arms. Taking her, Ecklie sat down in a nearby chair.
"She looks so much like Morgan." Tears welled in his eyes. "I'm sorry for everything I put you all through. I should have…"
"No, I'm sorry. If some guy who worked under me had snuck around with my daughter, I would have lost it too. We should have just been up front with everyone from the beginning." Greg ran his hand gently over Grace's little head. They heard Morgan stir in the bed. Ecklie handed the baby back to Greg and walked over to her. He took her hand in his as her eyes fluttered open.
She blinked, staring at him for a moment. "Dad?" she said. "Oh my God! Dad!" She reached over and pulled him into a hug. "You're here. You're okay."
"God, Morgan, I'm so sorry," he said.
"No, I should have apologized a long time ago." She sat back on the bed.
"We're both stubborn, you and I." He smiled. Morgan looked up when she heard the baby crying. Greg stood beside them now.
"I think she wants her mom," he said handing her over. Morgan gazed lovingly at her daughter for the first time. The infant stopped crying and stared curiously at her. "You must have the magic touch," Greg said sitting next to Morgan.
"Greg, she's perfect. I can't believe she's here." She looked up at him. "Oh my God, we're parents." Greg leaned in and kissed her. Ecklie watched the new family from the distance of the door, feeling happy and whole, before he quietly exited.

Greg stood at the front of the altar, rubbing his hands together to keep them from sweating, when the sight of his bouncing toddler caught his attention. Sara was at the end of the aisle holding little Grace Sanders's hand trying to show her how to throw the flowers out of her basket. The little girl was paying her no mind, so excited to have everyone looking at her. Grace looked straight ahead to see her father. Squealing, she let go of Sara's hand and dropped her basket, racing towards her dad, her blonde ringlets dancing as she ran. Kneeling down, Greg caught her and hoisted her up on his side. Sara glared at him, giving him both an evil eye and a forgiving smile. He laughed and shrugged then spun his daughter around, making her giggle. They both looked up at the chapel doors when the Wedding March began to play. The double doors parted and Morgan walked in, stunning in a strapless white gown. The light played with the beading on her dress, making her sparkle as she moved.
"Mommy's a princess," Grace gasped.
Greg couldn't take his eyes off his beautiful bride. "Yes, baby, she is," he agreed. Ecklie walked Morgan down the aisle stopping in front of Greg. He kissed her on the forehead before retrieving his granddaughter from his soon to be son-in-law. Greg took Morgan's hands in his, mouthing the word wow to her as he looked her over. She laughed leaning towards him. The minister called the crowd to sit and began the ceremony. Less than half an hour later, they were finally husband and wife.

Nick Stokes watched the bride and groom swing their daughter between them as the photographer set up for the next shot. He didn't get to see his friends nearly as much as he would have like to since he had moved to California, but his job kept him busy.
"Congratulations! What the hell took y'all so long?" he said giving both Greg and Morgan a hug. He picked up Grace. "How's my sweetheart?" he said to her. "You know if you had gotten married back when you were pregnant with this little one, you probably could have gotten the shotgun special," he joked, tickling their little girl.
"Who said we didn't get the special?" Greg said looking at Morgan. Nick arched an eyebrow looking back and forth between them.
Morgan blushed. "I'm due in December."
"Well, I'll be damned. Did you hear that Miss Gracie? You're going to have a little playmate soon. Looks like mom and dad can't get their hands off each other."
Morgan punched his arm playfully before collecting her daughter from him. Nick smiled and gave her side hug. "Congratulations. Again."

Sara watched the newlyweds as she sat at the empty dinner table sipping champagne. "Is this seat taken?" The familiar voice startled her.
"Gil? What are you doing here?" she said to her ex as he slid into the seat beside her.
"I was invited, by Greg," Grissom said admiring the happy couple himself. "Remember our wedding day?"
"How can I forget? We were in that small little hut with the rain beating against it. It was just the three of us, but with all that rain, I could barely hear the priest tell us to say our vows," she smiled at the memory. "It was perfect."
Grissom returned the smile and asked, "Care to dance?" He extended his hand to her.
"Always." She placed her hand in his as he led her to the dance floor.

The End

That's all I got, but it was fun. Let me know if you liked it or not. I'm still itching to write, so if you have any ideas or prompts, send them my way. Thanks for reading. : )