First off, I'd just like to say, MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE! I hope you all had an amazing Christmas, Boxing Day, the whole deal. If my year was any indication, I feel like life kind of owes us a bit. So 2011, get ready to payup! :P

Thank you for all of your reviews, they really do mean so much to me! Especially because I'm not just Sam and Andy centric, it makes me really happy to know that you guys still like reading it!

In this chapter, we have the men of fifteen (minus Oliver) going shopping. Men need to look good too!

I am still writing a Christmas Party fic, I'm just later than I would've liked. I really like syncing up my fics with the actual months, so we're all in the same mindframe as our favourite coppers, but life is increasingly busy! Two more fics, Christmas party, and then ...? (Stay tuned.)

Oh, there's a little rude language in this.

ENJOY!

Help a Brother Out!

"It's about time, man." Chris pulled himself up off the front steps of Dov's house as his friend jogged up the driveway. "Two hours? Really?" I could've run a freakin' marathon and still gotten back before you." He raised an eyebrow, not impressed.

"Sorry, sorry. Traffic, was brutal." He glanced back at Megan, who was just rounding the corner; a touch of colour still in her face. He flashed a grin at his girlfriend, knowing that traffic was not at all the reason they were late.

"Whatever. We've gotta go and just get this done. God, I hate shopping." He waved to Megan, before tugging Dov by the arm. "Any day now, buddy." He said impatiently.

"I'll see you in a few hours, okay love?" Dov kissed Megan on the nose and handed her the house keys he had in his hand.

"Don't get in too much trouble, kids." She laughed, waving them off. "Get out of here."

"Good to see you, Megan." Chris smiled, already making his way to his car with Dov in tow.

The drawn out goodbye finally ceased and the two got in the car. Chris pulled away from the curb and began driving out to Eaton Centre.

"I really hope we don't see the girls there. They'd try to dress us." Chris muttered. "Why didn't Megan go with them?" He was still a little protective of his childhood friend.

"We ended up in London this morning." Dov laughed. "Just a spur of the moment thing, we were at Milagro's when they called."

"Random road trips? What's gotten into you, man? Before I moved in with Gail, you wouldn't even get off your ass to go get takeout." Chris pointed out, a slight chuckle escaping his lips.

"It's a little more fun with Megan. Sorry, brother." Dov laughed, bracing against Chris' tactical driving. "Buddy, put it away. We aren't on duty, no need to be swerving all over the bloody map." He laughed.

"Sorry, I've got a lot on my mind." Chris smiled a little, straightening out in the lane.

"Oh God. Alright, what's bugging you?" Dov looked over when Chris didn't answer him. "What is it? Do you want me to like, touch your shoulder like girls do?" He placed his hand on Chris' shoulder but then yanked it back, crinkling his nose. "Nope! Too weird." He faced front.

"Gail is over half way through this pregnancy. It's usually closer to ten months, compared to nine, she's at twenty five of thirty six to forty weeks." He shook his head. "It still doesn't seem, real. You know?" His expression changed to one of joy. "But in twelve to sixteen weeks, I'll have a baby girl."

"You need to stop adding and subtracting weeks and months and years here. Relax." Dov interjected.

"Yeah, whatever. We'll see how you deal when you knock up your girlfriend. Ew, please don't get her pregnant. She's just a kid." He shuddered.

"Chris, she's only a year younger than me." Dov raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, but that's not how I remember her! I look at her and see thirteen year old Megan, not twenty three year old Megan." He reasoned.

"Chris, that's weird. She is definitely not thirteen anymore." He smiled to himself. "Although she still is pretty small. Her hands are tiny." He snickered, looking at his palm and tracing out where her hand fit so perfectly in his.

"She's like, 5'6", Dov. Not that small. She's Andy's height." Chris looked at him, a little puzzled.

"I don't know. She's built differently." He decided. "A good differently. A very good differently." He smiled.

"Hey, speaking of Andy, did you see her wedding dress?" Chris' eyes widened.

"Whoa, down boy. Don't go all Maid of Honour on me here." Dov laughed.

"Hey, shut up. She looked amazing and you know it." He glared at his friend.

"That is true." Dov nodded. "Hey, weddings. What are you and Gail planning?" Chris sighed.

"Well, we decided to put it off for a while. We most definitely are engaged, but we couldn't put a wedding together while she's pregnant, or after Abby's born for at least six or seven months, probably longer." He grimaced. "She was so excited when I asked her, she really was. And then we have to put it off."

"Well it has to be at the right time, or it wouldn't be as magical right?" Dov raised his eyebrows. "It'll work out. What did you say to her, anyway?" Chris began to chuckle.

"Well, I was driving back to the station from Toronto Grace, and I couldn't stop thinking about Leah and how fragile life is. So after shift, I went out and bought her the biggest diamond ring I could afford." He smiled, so did Dov. "I didn't really have anything planned, so I just went for it. I got home and she was getting out of the shower. I basically walked in to the bathroom and got down on one knee."

"Really?" Dov laughed.

"Yep!" Chris continued. "I was like, Gail, I love you, and I love Abby. And I'd be totally lost without you." He blushed a little. "I said, I know that it's not the same for you, because you'll always be able to find your way, but I couldn't get up in the morning if you weren't next to me. Let's make it official, and walk this road together. Marry me." He nodded, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.

"That's, brave. I'm proud of you, man." He clapped him on the shoulder. "Obviously, she said yes?" Chris began laughing.

"She laughed at me and said 'Chris, I get lost when we split up at the grocery store so I can find chips and you can find milk. I'd walk down any road with you.' It was kind of magical, I feel like someone should have filmed it." He shrugged, smiling.

"Filmed you proposing to a naked Gail?" Dov raised his eyebrow and Chris bit his lip in response, furrowing his brow.

"That's a good point."

The rest of the drive was full of anxiety. The two rookies hadn't been to a black tie Christmas party before, and while they knew what the expectations were, it still freaked them out. They'd only worn suits a few times in their lives, not including during the sting they ran a few months back.

"I'm serious, does blue not go with black? I thought everything went with black!" Chris exclaimed.

"No, black goes with everything, not the other way around." Dov corrected.

"Isn't that the same thing?" He threw his hands up, letting the wheel straighten out before pulling into a parking spot.

"We are in trouble." Dov shook his head.

They made it to the Suit Exchange, a store basically foreign to both of them. As intimidating as it was, walking into a store with so many options and so many ways to mess up and look disastrous, they were cops. And they would carry themselves as so.

"Oh thank God." Dov exhaled and pointed to the back of the store, where two familiar faces stood, holding ties over black suit jackets. They made their way over and braced for the abrasive glare they were sure to get.

"Jerry? Sam?" Chris asked quietly. The two men looked away from the mirror and grinned once they caught on to the situation. Slinging his tie over the nearest rack, Sam turned on his heel and put on the sleaziest grin he could manage.

"What can I help you with, boys?" He raised an eyebrow, daring one of them to say it.

"Well, nothing, we're uh, just looking for something for the party." Dov nodded quickly.

"Yeah? That's it? You know what you're looking for, and," Sam picked up the tie again and held it against his suit dramatically, "what doesn't go with black?"

"Oh and you do, Sammy?" Jerry laughed, snatching his tie away from him. "Look, as much as I love harassing you darling little rooks, I think we're just about as lost as you are." He swallowed his pride.

"Yeah." Sam sighed. "I have a few suits, but they're too big now. And they're old." He scrunched up his nose. "My sister would always help me with this, but now I'm left to wander around like a lunatic, trying to find one of these," he flicked at a suit hanging beside him, "that doesn't make me look like an idiot."

"Yes." Dov said quietly, smiling. "I have no idea what I'm doing. We wear black, right?" He shifted uncomfortably and lowered his voice.

"I like that." Jerry pointed at a mannequin, donning a simple black sports jacket and dress pants.

"It is nice." Sam mused.

"I'm buying that." He flagged down a salesperson to find him his size.

"And then there was three." Chris sighed. "After this, do you guys wanna hit up that place on Augusta? The Burger Bar and something…" he trailed off.

"Burger Bar and Tequila Tavern. Sounds good. Drinks on you? Great." He clapped Chris on the shoulder and slid past him, a white collared shirt catching his eye.

"Hmm…" Dov walked over to some blazers, hanging neatly on the back wall. "Good enough." He found one in his size and went in search of some pants.

"And then there was one." Chris sighed. He began searching the racks, combing everything from suits to sport coats to shirts to blazers and everything in between. Finally, the saleswoman helped him find a decent looking suit.

After many trials and even more errors, the four men stood in the dressing room, shoulder to shoulder, in front of the floor to ceiling mirror. Sam with his hands in the pockets of the dark denim jeans, just formal enough to slide under the radar; with a crisp white button down. Jerry, in his detective stance, with his hands on his hips, pushing back the classic navy sport coat he'd chosen, with a white shirt and black pants. Dov stood with his arms at his sides and his head tilted, taking in this foreign formal blazer and dress pants. Chris, in a simple black suit with a blue tie, stood uncomfortably, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

"Guys," he broke the silence, "we look like total douches."

"Yep." Dov responded immediately.

"Pretty much!" Jerry concurred.

"I hate parties." Sam groaned, making the entire conversation sound slurred. "Whatever, douches or not, I want a drink." He turned around. "Taryn!" He called to the saleswoman. She stuck her head around the door, eyes questioning. "Ring us up."

They changed back into their street clothes and paid for their party attire, before walking as a group out to the parking lot.

"Jerry!" Sam burst out laughing. "Remember that guy that wore the baby blue suit last year? The one that looked fresh out of the eighties?" Jerry cracked up.

"Oh man, that guy was a douche." Chris and Dov exchanged glances, but didn't speak up as the two officers fell behind them in step a little, both clutching their stomachs and laughing.

"Oh God, I need a drink." Jerry sighed, stopping at Sam's truck. "We'll meet you guys there!"

The two rookies nodded back and climbed into Chris' car, more than ready to drown their fears in alcohol. Or for Dov, diet coke.