"Grandpa has been shooting death glares at you and Dexter all day, Aunt Deb. What happened?" Cody whispers in my ear. "It's kind of starting to creep me out."

"I don't know, buddy. It's probably just gas." I reply, wrinkling my nose up a little for dramatic effect.

Cody bursts into hysterics, and I can't resist the urge to start laughing right along with him.

"Uh, anybody want to fill me in on the joke?" Dexter asks, peaking his head out from behind me.

Maura and Bill's tiny car wasn't equipped with nearly enough room for all six of us to ride comfortably to the arcade. Dexter offered to take half of the passengers in his car, but for some reason Maura insisted that we all travel together. So now Maura and Bill are sitting pretty up front, Harrison is strapped into his car seat, and Astor and Cody are squished together in one seat. Of course, that leaves me with no choice but to sit in Dexter's lap for the entire drive. He's been keeping his arms wrapped tightly around my waist as if he's scared I'll go flying out of the car window or something.

Not that I'm complaining that much about the seating arrangements, but it would be nice if I could get Bill off of my back for at least a few fucking minutes. The old man hasn't stopped staring since we all piled into the car. At breakfast he was up my ass about keeping what's going on between me and Dexter from the kids, but last time I checked, he's the one drawing attention to it. Not me.

"We were just making fun of Astor and her stupid emo music!" Cody tells Dexter.

He reaches over to his sister and rips her ear buds out of her ears.

"Stop it, Cody! God, you're so annoying." Astor shouts, snatching the ear buds from her brother and shoving them back into her ears.

"That's enough, Cody." Maura scolds.

"Sorry grandma." Cody mutters. He frowns and reaches for his own ear buds, blasting some obnoxious rock song.

Bill finally stops glaring at me through the sun visor mirror, and I let out a sigh of relief when he rests his head against the window. I've had enough of that creepy blue stare for one day.

I shift a little in Dexter's lap in an attempt to get more comfortable when I feel something pressed hard against me. Something that I definitely shouldn't be feeling given our current setting.

"Um, what's going on down there, Dex?" I murmur, hopefully low enough so that no one else will hear me.

Dexter slips his hand under my shirt, tracing his fingers up my spine and then moving his palm around to my stomach. He slides his hand further up until he finds his way to the bottom of my bra, and I reward him with a swift elbow to the gut.

"Ouch!" He exclaims. "Sorry, Deb. Jeez."

"Maybe next time you could try not groping me in front of your fucking children." I mutter.

"Debra? Dexter? Everything alright back there?" Maura asks.

"Everything's fine, Maura. I would love to get up and stretch my legs, though." I reply. "My brother doesn't exactly make the most comfortable seat."

"Don't worry, it won't be much longer now." She assures me in a sing-songy voice. "We're almost there!"

Suddenly, the car swerves and Maura slams down hard on the breaks. I jolt forward and fall face-first against the back of the passenger's seat. Dexter gasps, and then grabs roughly onto my waist and pulls me back into his lap.

"My hero." I joke in my best attempt at a damsel in distress voice.

I rest my head on his shoulder, pretending to faint pathetically into his arms like the poor little princesses do in the movies.

"This is like the third time you've almost gotten yourself killed in as many days, Debra. It's exhausting being your hero. You know that?" He chuckles.

"Hey! This time it was definitely not my fault." I reply, craning my neck to meet his gaze as I smile from ear to ear.

"Sorry about that. I can't believe I almost drove the wrong way down a one way street!" Maura apologizes.

She drives on and a few minutes later we finally make it to the arcade in one piece. Everyone gets out of the car except for Dexter. I tell the Bennetts to go inside without us, letting them know that we'll be right behind them. Once they disappear into the arcade, I turn to face Dexter.

"What's going on?" I ask him.

"Well, you know…" he trails off, taking his hands slightly out of his lap to show me his persisting problem.

"Oh…still Wow. Well, shit. You can't walk into an arcade full of a bunch of little kids and your disapproving family members like that, Dex."

"Don't you think I know that?" He asks through gritted teeth.

"Hey! Don't snap at me, bro. It's not my fault that you can be so easily excited." I tease.

"Actually, it kind of is." He laughs.

"Mmm, touché. Well, what do you usually do to…um…make it go away?" I ask.

"I'd rather not talk about that in the middle of a crowded parking lot, Deb." He growls.

"It's not that crowded. There's like fifteen cars here. Twenty, max. And most of the people are already inside…" I say, twirling my finger around a single strand of hair. "We could –"

"Deb!" He interrupts. "Stop it!"

"Fine. Jesus, I was just trying to help." I pout.

"Could you just…give me a moment?" He requests, irritated.

I nod, crossing my arms over my chest and refusing to wipe the scowl off of my face.

"Alone, Deb. Could you just give me a moment alone?" He adds after an uncomfortable silence.

"Oh yeah, whatever. Sorry." I awkwardly reply.

I turn my back to him and walk the short distance to the arcade, smiling to myself all the way there. Once I step through the double-doors and spot the Bennetts seated at a table in the back, I quickly wipe the grin off of my face, hoping to save myself some embarrassment. I can only imagine what type of wise cracks Bill has been conjuring up while we were gone.

"Where's Dexter?" Astor asks with a look of disappointment on her face.

"Don't worry, he just went to look for a bathroom." I lie. "He promised me he'd be back in a minute or two."

"But the bathroom is right over there." Cody says, pointing at the men's room to the left of our table.

"Yeah…well, you know how Dexter is. He can be a bit of a retard sometimes." I shrug.

I take a seat next to Cody as the entire table sits in silence. The only sound is the arcade music in the background, and the tapping noises Astor's phone makes as she has what sounds like a heated conversation via text.

"Oh look, here Dexter comes now." Maura smiles.

"Thank God." I mumble. I don't know how much more of that I could take.

"Sorry guys, I just had to make a quick phone call." Dexter says.

Ah, Fuck. In retrospect, it probably would've been smart to get our stories straight first.

"But Aunt Deb just said you were looking for the bathroom..." Cody confusedly claims.

"Um…who's up for some skee-ball!?" I ask, a little too merrily.

"Me, definitely." Dexter answers.

"Perfect. Come on, Harrison. I think it's about time we showed Pops who's boss." I proclaim, picking my nephew up out of his booster seat and skipping over to the skee-ball machines.

"Well, that was awkward." I state once Dexter has caught up with us.

"I think that's going to be our most frequently used word for the duration of the trip." He smiles.

I put some change into both of the skee-ball machines and Harrison giggles wildly when the music plays, signaling that the game has begun.

"Harrison, you're going to be on daddy's team. Together, we can definitely kick your Aunt Deb's butt." Dexter vows.

"That's where you're wrong, bro." I confidently declare. "Me and my little buddy over here, we're the dream team, the dynamic duo. Plus, I already called dibs, and you can't just refute dibs like that. Dibs is sacred, man."

"Yeah! Dibs, man!" Harrison echoes.

"Harrison, do you even have a clue what dibs is?" Dexter chuckles.

"Of course I do, daddy." Harrison giggles.

"Well, there you have it. Dibs is dibs, and Harrison and I are about to kick your ass." I taunt, sticking my tongue out at him like a child. "Ladies first, of course."

I sit Harrison down on a stool beside Dexter and saunter over to the skee-ball machine, surprised that I don't have to fake my enthusiasm just for the sake of the kid. I fully plan on kicking Dexter's ass at skee-ball, and I'm going to do so with a smile on my face.

"Buckle up and prepare to have your mind blown, Dex. I'm about to show you why I'm known as the undisputed skee-ball champion." I brag.

I pick up the weighty ball and make a show of winding my arm like the pitcher would at a baseball game, and then I release the ball with a squeal. I was aiming for the hundred pointer, but the ball lands pitifully in the ten point hole instead.

"Wow, I see why they call you the champ," Dexter comments dryly, giving me a sarcastic round of applause. "That took skill."

"Jerk," I jeer, plopping down in the chair beside Harrison. "Talk is cheap. If you're so great, how about you show me and Harrison how it's done, then?"

"Gladly." Dexter bites back.

He walks over to his own machine and mockingly handles the ball as I did. However, he throws it with a bit too much force, so instead of landing in one of the holes, the ball bounces off of the top of the machine and hits him square on the cheek.

"Crap!" He exclaims.

I try to muffle my laughter, but Harrison starts to crack up inappropriately loud, and I have no choice but to start cackling right along with him.

"It's not funny! That really hurt!" Dexter frowns, rubbing his cheek. "It's probably going to leave a bruise."

"Good," I say in-between laughs. "Now that scab on your cheek won't be so lonely anymore. They can be friends!"

"Wow, Deb. You're pretty cruel." Dexter says, a light laugh escaping his lips.

"So I've been told." I grin. "Come on, Dexter. It's redemption time. You get three tries, remember? Just make sure you avoid your face this time, because honestly, I'm kind of fond of it."

Dexter smirks at me as he picks up another ball. He doesn't get too cocky this time, and he actually manages to score forty points.

"Take a look at the scoreboard, champ." Dexter teases, beaming at me like a little kid. "You know, it's isn't too late to get with the winning team, Harrison."

"My little man isn't going to abandon ship just because you scored a few measly points. Never underestimate the underdog, Dexter." I warn. "Alright, Harrison. It's your turn now. You ready?"

"Ready!" Harrison announces.

I pick Harrison up, hand him a ball, and stand him straight up on the floor of the skee-ball machine.

"Okay buddy. I want you to walk over to the hole that has one-zero-zero written on it and put the ball in there." I whisper in his ear. "Can you do that for me?"

"Yes, Aunt Deb." He replies, placing a soft, wet kiss on my cheek.

"Hey! That's cheating! Absolutely not!" Dexter protests when Harrison waddles over to the hole I told him to find.

He throws the ball inside, breaking into a cute little dance when the congratulatory alarm sounds.

"We never established any rules, brother. Like I said, never underestimate the underdog." I boast.

"Yeah? Well, don't get so arrogant now. We still have three more rounds left, and I just don't want you to be too embarrassed when you lose." Dexter replies. "I've seen firsthand what a sore loser you can be, and I'd hate for some innocent little kids to get caught in the imminent crossfire."

"Lose? The dream team never loses!" I snort. "And don't even think about trying to steal my strategy, Dex. Your big ass climbing up the skee-ball machine would not be a pretty sight."

"Oh, don't worry. I could never stoop so low." He plays along. "No, I'm going to win my prize with nothing but pure talent."

"Okay, keep telling yourself that. But just so you know, when you lose, I'll buy you your own teddy bear from the gift shop anyway. I wouldn't want you to feel left out when Harrison and I go to claim our prize. What can I say? I'm a giver." I say, smiling at him condescendingly.

Dexter takes his next turn and miraculously scores a fifty, but of course, he's no match for the dream team. Harrison and I use our winning strategy for the last few rounds, and we finish with a score of four hundred and ten. Dexter's final score is two hundred and twenty, which is admirable, but it still makes him a loser, and I won't soon let him forget it.

He looks on bitterly as Harrison and I roll around on the floor to scoop up the almost never-ending strips of tickets that comes pouring out of the machine.

"Are my eyes playing tricks on me, or is somebody being a sore loser right now?" I playfully ask once I've picked up all of the tickets.

"I wouldn't get used to it if I were you, Debra. There's still an entire arcade full of games for me to beat you at." Dexter answers. "Besides, I let you win."

"Sore loser!" Harrison teases. "Sore loser! Sore loser!"

"Great, now you've turned my son against me." Dexter kids, rolling his eyes at me. "You're ruthless."

"You're damn right." I wink. "Race me to Pac Man?

"I'm way ahead of you…" Dexter says, grinning mischievously before turning his back to me and sprinting across the room.

"Cheater!" I shout, clutching the mound of tickets in one hand and Harrison's hand in the other.

If Dexter thinks he's getting away from me that easily, he's got another thing coming.

Harrison starts to run alongside me as fast as he can, but he's so tiny that it's really nothing more than a brisk jog. I don't mind, though. I could do this for hours.

Everything is finally falling into place, and today, it's hard to believe that these past few miserable months ever happened. Not even a week ago, I'd hit rock bottom. I was so depressed, so hopeless, that I thought the only way out of my own personal hell was to take my own life. I can't believe that I almost missed out on this. My perfect day.

I have a future now; one that promises to be filled with more moments like these, more perfect days. And even though I don't deserve it, my heart races at the thought.

We finally catch up to Dexter, and he stands posed up against the Pac Man machine with his hands on his hips.

"Oh, hey Deb. I thought you'd never find the courage to face me," he jokes. "Harrison, start counting your tickets. I don't want you to see your aunt in such a humiliating situation."

"Okay," Harrison giggles. "But it might take long. There are tons."

"Take your time, buddy. Your dad is in no rush to lose." I say.

Harrison gets settled at a table directly behind me and Dex, and we start up the Pac Man machine, still maintaining our competitiveness even with a task as mundane as this one.

Dexter enters his name as player one, and 'Loser' as player two, earning a sarcastic laugh from me. He grabs the joystick as level one begins, and as he moves it back and forth to outrun those dumb little ghost things, I feel the urge to grab his hand. So I do.

"I never realized what a big cheater you are, Debra. Are you trying to make me lose?" He asks, taking his eyes off of the game for a second. "Let go."

"No." I answer, weaving the fingers on my left hand with the ones on his right.

His eyes fall down to our joined hands, studying the glistening diamond the rests on my finger; a symbol of where we've been, and where we're going.

"Well…I guess I could let it slide just this once." He says, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. "But just so you know, you're still a cheater."

I scan the area and when I'm sure that absolutely no one is watching, I give Dexter a soft, hurried kiss. He returns to my lips delicately, and I let the kiss linger for a few more moments before regrettably breaking it.

I turn to lay my head on Dexter's shoulder, watching the screen as tries to get back into the game.

"Can I ask you something?" I question in a voice so small that I barely recognize it as my own.

"Anything." Dexter replies, abandoning the game all together.

"Are you scared?"

"Not anymore," he says, giving my hand a comforting squeeze. "Are you?"

"A little," I answer. "I just can't help but feel like this is all too good to be true. It's only a matter of time before the next storm hits, and I guess I just don't want to get my hopes up, you know? Today might be our perfect day, but what about tomorrow?"

"Look at me, Deb," Dexter says, letting go of my hand so he can cup my face in both of his hands. "Today is just the start. You deserve nothing short of the best, and I'm going to give it to you. Do you love me?"

"You know I do, fuckwad." I smile.

"Then you have to trust me. Soon, we'll be in Argentina. Somewhere no one can touch us. And I promise you, every day is going to be perfect." Dexter assures me.

He wraps me in his arms, and I close my eyes, leaning fully into his embrace. For a second, the world stops, and nothing remains but us. It's nice, but I can't help feeling like something's missing.

"As soon as we get back to the Bennetts', I'm going to book our flight. How does that sound?" He whispers in my ear.

"Three hundred and sixty six!" Harrison shouts, just as I'm about to give Dexter my answer. "I think…"

"What's that?" Dexter asks, ending our embrace so he can turn his attention to Harrison.

"My tickets, daddy!"

"Wow Harrison, that's impressive!" Dexter exclaims, lifting his son into his arms. "But you're going to need more tickets if you want to claim the biggest prize."

"Let's do basketball next!" Harrison suggests.

"Alright, buddy. Basketball it is. Come on, Deb. You can be the referee." Dexter says.

"Actually, I think I'm going to sit this one out. You guys have fun though." I smile.

They find their way to the mini-basketball game and I take a seat not too far from them, content to just sit and watch as they play. It makes me happy, watching them together, but it also fills me with guilt. For Dexter and I to get our shot at happiness, do we really have to leave Harrison behind?

Today is our perfect day, that much is true; but me and Dexter aren't the only pieces of this puzzle. Without Harrison, could we ever be truly happy?

I force myself to push those selfish thoughts away, because it isn't about me and Dexter anymore. What really matters is Harrison, and what's best for him. He deserves a real family. He deserves Astor and Cody, and Maura and Bill. He deserves stability; and more likely than not, that's something we just can't give him. And that's okay.

I turn my attention back to my two boys just in time to see Dexter miss a laughably easy basket that Harrison makes on the rebound.

"Woo! Way to go, Harrison!" I cheer.

The game goes on and I keep my eyes on my nephew, storing mental pictures of his smiling face. I'm going to lose him, sooner rather than later. I try to enjoy the time we have left.

"And to think I thought the ride up to the arcade was cramped." I grumble. "Little did I know Harrison was going to pick out a teddy bear bigger than the entire state of Texas."

"You're not the one lugging this thing around, so I don't want to hear any more complaining." Dexter replies.

He's an outrageous sight to see as he carries the huge blue stuffed bear; balancing it on his back to prevent it from dragging on the ground. Bill unlocks the door and holds it open for us, and I let Dexter walk into the house before me so I can watch him struggle to get that monster through the doorway.

"Leave him right here, daddy. In front of the TV." Harrison commands.

"Yes, sir." Dexter says, setting the bear down on the floor.

Harrison sits on the teddy bear as if it were a chair and makes himself right at home, grabbing the remote and flipping through the channels. He settles for the talking sponge, and much to my surprise, Astor sits down on the couch and starts to watch the TV right along with him. I know how much she loves her little brother, but watching Spongebob with the kid doesn't really seem like the ideal way for a teenage girl to spend a perfectly good night.

"I don't mean to bother you, Maura. But would you mind if I used the computer? I forgot to send some important blood reports to my boss before I left. It should only take a few minutes." Dexter asks.

"Of course not, Dexter. It's in my study. When you head upstairs, it's the third door to the left." She answers.

"Great, thank you." He replies.

Dexter makes his way upstairs, and Maura excuses herself to go get dinner started. Bill follows after her to lend a helping hand, or so he says. If I were to guess, I'd say that he wanted to get as far away from me as possible…but maybe that's just me being insecure. It's hard to tell these days.

Cody goes upstairs to his room and I sit down on the couch beside Astor. I reach out for one of the many magazines stacked neatly on the coffee table and start to flip through it.

Harrison soon gets bored with the show he'd been watching and goes back to channel surfing.

An article about global warming and other environmental bullshit manages to hold my attention, and I try to block out the background noise to focus on reading it.

"It's him! It's the bad man!" Harrison shouts a minute or two later, successfully breaking my concentration.

"What are you talking about, Harrison?" I wonder, slightly irritated.

"The bad man!" He repeats.

I toss the magazine back on the coffee table and fix my eyes on the TV.

"No," I mutter under my breath. "No, this can't be happening."

"Aunt Deb, don't you know him?" Astor asks, pointing at the picture of Joey that's being broadcast on the local news. "Harrison, turn it up."

"Detective Joseph Quinn was reported missing early Thursday morning after failing to report for work. Wanted in connection with his disappearance is Debra Morgan, the Lieutenant of Miami Metro Homicide. Her foster brother, Dexter Morgan, a blood spatter analyst working for the same department, is also being investigated. Sources allege that he and his sister are wanted in connection to several murders in the Miami area…"

I get up off of the couch and start to pace around the living room.

What the fuck am I going to do? If I yell for Dexter and tell him that I just saw our pictures plastered all over the fucking news, then I risk Maura and Bill calling the cops. But I can't just stand here like an idiot, I have to act.

"Astor…I know you probably don't want to. But just hear me out, please…" I start.

"Stop watching that, Harrison." Astor interrupts. "Turn back to Spongebob, okay?"

Harrison nods wearily but does what he's told, and right now, the biggest question running through my mind is whether or not my little man actually understood all of what he just heard. I pray to fuck he didn't.

"You have to go," Astor tells me. "Now."

"Astor, just let me explain…" I beg, my cheeks hot with the threat of tears.

"I don't think you understand what I'm saying, Aunt Deb," she says, getting up off of the couch to stand almost eye to eye with me. "I'm trying to help you, but you have to go. Now, before grandma and grandpa get done in the kitchen."

"Astor…"

"I don't want to fucking hear it, okay?! I'm not going to be responsible for you and Dad ending up in prison. So please, Aunt Deb. Go." Astor pleads, her voice trembling.

She shields her face from me, probably hoping that I won't notice the tears streaming down her face. And although I can't see her tears, that doesn't make me feel like any less of a failure.

"I'm so sorry, Astor. I never meant for any of this to happen." I say.

"What's going on?" Harrison asks. "You're scaring me!"

"Can you be brave for me, buddy?" I ask, crouching down before him to wipe a few escaped tears off of his cheeks. "I want you to know that no matter what happens, your daddy and I have always loved you, and we always will."

The tears start to trickle from my own eyes now, and I try to keep them at bay, to no avail.

"I can be brave." Harrison answers, pressing a tender kiss to the tip of my nose. "And you can be, too."

That just makes the tears flow harder. He has absolutely no idea what's happening, and I know it's nothing more than a stupid, impossible wish, but I hope he never does.

"Debra? Astor? Everything alright in there?" Maura's voice calls from the kitchen.

Go. Astor mouths to me. Now.

"Yeah grandma, everything's cool!" She replies. "Dexter will be right behind you, I promise." Astor whispers me. "But you have to leave."

"Okay," I answer, standing up to wrap my arms around my niece. "Thank you."

I walk over to the door and quietly turn the knob, pausing to give one last look to Harrison and Astor before stepping outside.

I take off sprinting down the block, letting the crisp January winds attack my face and dry my tears. It isn't until a few minutes have passed that I realize I have no idea where I'm going.

"Fuck," I say, collapsing onto the nearest bus bench. "Fuck!"