A/N: I got this chapter up a little bit earlier than I thought I would. But then again, I'm going on a vacation/business trip for 3 weeks, and I'm not sure how much I'll be online. So if you don't hear from me for a while, I'm just cruising around the country :-) At any rate, here's a little more cuteness for you to enjoy while I'm away...

Don and Aiden stood in the kitchen together in his apartment, fixing a late lunch before they headed off to their respective places of employment. She was at the counter chopping vegetables for a salad, while he tended to the grilled ham and cheese sandwiches in the frying pan on the stove. Out of the blue, he leaned over and kissed her hair, brushing a hand over her back and whispering in her ear.

"I love you, ya know."

She smiled gently, touching her cheek to his. "I know."

He went back to the sandwiches and remained silent for a moment before taking a deep mental breath. "So what are we going to do about that?" he asked smoothly, without taking his eyes off the frying pan.

"What?" She turned from the salad and leaned against the counter, training her eyes on his face.

He flipped the sandwiches over with a spatula and twisted his head around to meet her gaze. "I said, 'what are we going to do about that'," he repeated evenly.

Aiden tilted her head to one side, a small smile on her lips. "What did you have in mind, Donny? I mean, what do you want for us?" She reached up and rested her hands on his chest. "When I needed time and space you gave it to me," she continued quietly. "When I ran away to Virginia, you let me go without completely letting me go, even though you were hurt and angry. When I wanted back into your life, you let me in and gave me all the room I needed to get comfortable again. And I know you, Don. I know how much you love me, and how hard it was for you to step back and let me do my thing." She slid a hand over the material of his shirt, playing with one of the buttons. "Now I want to know what you want."

He pressed his lips together in thought, wrapping his arms around her waist. "I don't want to rush you into anything…"

"Don't think about that," she instructed. "Just tell me what you want for us, right at this moment."

He paused a minute more before speaking. "I want to wake up beside you every morning," he told her, looking into her dark eyes. "I want to see your clothes hanging in the closet next to mine. I want your leftovers in the fridge, your dirty dishes in the sink…your delicates hanging all over the apartment to dry," he laughed. "Because all that means you're here with me."

"You want to move in together?"

Her face was completely neutral, and he couldn't tell what she was thinking. Did I scare her? "Yes," he replied lightly, running a hand over her back. "You've grown so much since you went to Charlottesville. You're stronger now, and more open. I trusted you with my life before, Aid. But I trust with my heart again—I know it's in good hands."

She grinned. "Then let's do it."

"Really?" His voice showed more of his surprise than he meant it to.

"Yeah really," she responded, her grin widening. "In fact, I was hoping you'd say that. I miss you, miss being around you. And I trust you with my heart, too. All the way this time." She leaned up and kissed him, still smiling when she pulled away.

"On one condition, though," he decided.

She studied his face. "What's that?"

"No secrets," he told her. "We tell each other everything—about work, about life, about each other. It's the only way, Aid."

"You're right," she agreed. "And I want to make this work."

"Me too. So do we have a deal?"

Her grin returned. "I'll start looking for apartments after work today."

He chuckled. "You don't want to live here?"

"I think," she began, becoming serious, "that we should get a place that neither of us has lived in before. Someplace that isn't yours or mine, but a place that we can move into for the first time together."

"Like a fresh start," he added, straightening up.

She nodded. "Like a fresh start. It just might take a while to find something we can afford…"

"If there's one thing I've learned in the last three years," he told her, "it's that good things are worth waiting for. And you are the best thing in my life."

She leaned up for another kiss. "You are definitely the best thing in mine."

∞∞∞

"Hey Mac," Stella greeted him, walking into his office. "I got a hit off the DNA we found at the hit-and-run from this morning."

He looked up from the file he was reading and smiled. I am the luckiest man alive. "Who?"

"Covan Cormier," she replied. "He was convicted of assault two years ago…his DNA was in CODIS."

"Good. Maybe we have a witness."

"Or a suspect." His voice was steady, but Stella noticed the far-away quality in his eyes. "What's up, Mac?"

"Hmm?" He re-focused his gaze on her.

She smiled. "You're not thinking about the hit-and-run. What's on your mind?"

He leaned back in his chair and sighed. "Do you remember Reed Garrett?"

"The kid that was following me because he thought I was Claire, his biological mother," she recalled. "Yeah I remember him."

"He called me this afternoon." Mac paused to gather his thoughts, and Stella didn't interrupt. "He asked if I would meet him for a burger tomorrow. I think he has some more questions about her."

She took a seat in one of the chairs opposite his desk. "What did you tell him?"

"I told him I'd meet him. He has a right to know about his family."

"Yes he does, and I'm glad you're willing to provide him with that information." She glanced down at her hands clasped in her lap. "I know what it's like not to know anything about where you came from."

He nodded in response, leaning forward again. "I figured you'd identify with Reed."

"And you do, too, don't you?" she countered gently. "You both lost the same woman." She studied his face, wondering what was going on in his mind. "Is that why you're having a hard time with this? Because he reminds you of Claire?"

He looked at her, surprised. "No," he answered. "No…my memories of Claire aren't painful anymore."

She leaned forward, reaching across the desk and touching his arm. "Then what is it?"

Mac frowned and sighed again. "I guess…I feel like…like I'm neglecting you by spending time with Reed. No, wait," he corrected. "That isn't right. Not 'neglecting'…more like…like…" He struggled for a moment to find the right word before landing on it. "More like 'betraying'. I feel like I'm betraying you."

"Because he's Claire's son."

He nodded mutely.

Her hand slid from his arm to his fingers, grasping them in hers and squeezing affectionately. "We've been over this, Mac," she scolded softly. "She was your wife…of course you still love her…"

"I know. And I want Reed to know her—I want to give him that as best I can, but it doesn't seem fair to you. You're the woman in my life now, and I feel a little awkward being with you…and spending time with her child."

She walked around the desk and leaned against it, brushing a hand over his shoulder. "I knew her, too, Mac. She was my friend, remember? And I miss her. But depriving Reed of his birth mother isn't going to make you and I miss her less, or make anything less awkward."

"You're right, of course," he smiled, finding her green eyes with his blue ones.

"It's just—"

"—going to take some time, yes I know," he finished for her, smiling. "It helps knowing that you're okay with this, though."

"You'd be okay too, if our roles were reversed," she told him matter-of-factly. She patted his shoulder and smiled, rising from the desk and heading out the door. "Let me know how it goes, huh?"

He watched her go. I really am the luckiest man alive. "I will."

∞∞∞

Across town, Danny sat with Maddie at an outdoor café, grabbing a bite to eat between cases with her on a sunny Saturday afternoon. Shayla was working a shift at the store, and Sheldon had offered to watch Carrie for an hour to give the pair some alone time together. Without the kids around, Maddie decided it would be a good time to have a conversation they had only briefly broached before.

Her eyes drifted over to a young father at a nearby table, trying vainly to juggle a knife and fork for his lunch with the infant in his arms. She smiled absently, remembering Danny trying the same thing when Carrie was small. Turning to her husband, she opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by the sound of his voice.

"Cute, isn't it?" he chuckled. "Not so much when you're actually trying to eat with a squirmy baby in your arms, but cute when you're watching someone else do it."

She grinned. "You're always cute with the girls," she told him, taking his hand in hers and squeezing.

"Of course I am," he laughed. "And I never get dirty, either. But that poor schmoe already has food all over his shirt."

"Never get dirty, eh?" she countered with a smirk. "I seem to remember a certain green t-shirt that was christened with baby formula when Carrie was about three weeks old…and then again a week later when Shayla had the stomach flu…"

He held up his hands in a defensive posture. "Okay, okay. So I get dirty, too. But I got better with a little practice." He noticed the distant look return to her eyes and reached for her hand again, taking it in both of his across the table. "What?"

She re-focused on Danny. "Would you do it again?"

"The girls? Absolutely—you know I would."

Her voice was low when she responded. "Even with all the worry and stress…the pregnancy, the delivery, the tight household budget…even with what happened to Adam?"

"Even then." He moved to the chair beside her and cupped her chin lightly. "I wouldn't trade our family for anything," he told her quietly, remembering the baby boy they almost had while simultaneously thanking God for the daughters they did have.

"Would you do it all over again…with a third child?"

"Are you…?" He searched her face for an answer to his unspoken question. What he got was a smile.

"No," she said. "Not pregnant. But I was thinking that, if we wanted to go that route again, maybe this time we could plan it."

He laughed again, this time with a note of relief. "That would be nice," he grinned. "Not that the surprise wasn't good, too. But it would be pretty cool to have some control over our lives for a change, huh?"

"Yeah, it would," she agreed with a twinkle in her blue eyes. "But it's something we need to talk about. I mean, do you even want to have another baby? Have you thought about it at all?"

"Yeah," he confessed. "Especially since the night you came home and caught me napping with Carrie. You were right when you said she was growing up fast, and I know we're getting older, so if we're going to have more it'll have to be soon."

"But this isn't a decision we can make lightly," she responded. "We're talking about a life here."

"You know we're not making light of this," he reminded her softly. "We both know how important life and family are."

Maddie nodded, scooting her chair a little closer to his. "That's why I want to add to it."

Danny smiled. Not the quick grin he flashed when making a joke or the crooked one he used when he was being charming, but the smile that he saved only for his wife, the one that let her know how much he loved her without ever saying a word. "That's the best reason to have a baby." He leaned in and kissed her tenderly, smiling more broadly when she kissed him back.

"So what do you think?" she asked.

His eyes were bright when he answered. "I think we're ready for another one." His smile morphed into a mischievous grin, then, and his lips found her temple as he whispered in her ear, "Should we get started now?"

Maddie laughed cheerily. "Maybe we better wait until after you're off the clock."