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Fifteen weeks and two days.

That was how old Rafe had been when he died. Fifteen hours and almost two days since Tallulah's birth, Nick lay in bed wide awake. Looking unseeingly into the darkness, he could vaguely make out the shape of Allie next to him, sleeping on her side.

There would be no sleep for him tonight.

When Tali's early morning cry sounded over the baby alarm, Nick felt Allie shift next to him. The restless man patted his wife's hipbone in reassurance and slipped from the bed himself. Very much awake, and no more refreshed than when he had slipped into bed six hours ago, Nick left the room.

He crossed the hall carefully in the darkness.

Six weeks in their new house and he was still getting used to where everything was. He'd been glad to move though; Allie's place had been far too small for their growing family. Moving time had also come at the perfect time, allowing him to push aside the August anniversary of his son's death, the pain seeming more acute this year, and he knew it was because of Tallulah's birth. (Allie had been uncertain of what to do, and if he'd been his usual self, he would have laughed at her awkward attempts at trying to predict how he was feeling and work around him.)

Standing by the cot, he looked down at where his baby girl was whimpering, aged fifteen weeks, two days today.

Slipping his hands under her small form, he ignored the suspicious smell coming from her nappy. He felt the tightness ease just a little around his heart when she smiled at him, nothing of the whiny and clingy baby from the night before. (Mia's actual birthday had been three days earlier, and the night before they had hosted a small party with their workmates for the newly seven year old.)

Changing Tali's nappy quickly and efficiently, he buttoned up the jumpsuit once again. The last clasp fastened, Nick braced his hands on either side of the wooden rails of the change table, looking down at the baby currently eating her first.

Her eyes were clear and focused on his.

Swallowing a shuddering breath, Nick eased Tali up to rest against his chest. Propping her against his shoulder, the solemn man pressed his nose to her hair, breathed in the unique baby smell and savoured the moment.

Heading for the kitchen, he flicked the kettle to boil. Jostling Tali slightly, he reached into the fridge and brought forth the breast milk that Allie stocked up so that he could do the early morning feedings – and they were early, Tali having taken after her father with her preference to be an early bird rather than the night owl her sister and mother were. Reaching for a jug easily with one hand, he then poured the kettle. Tali's nose twitched and he expected the cry that followed when he submerged the bottle in the hot water. He jostled the small being in his arms as he headed for the lounge room, jug in hand. Taking a seat, he rocked his daughter close as they waited for the milk to warm up.

Today was Mia's seventh birthday party, and there was no way in hell he was going to let Tali go.

Allie fiercely tugged her hair into a ponytail.

"Mum's going to pick up the cake and meet us there … Do we have the camera? ... And the video camera? ... Mia, are you ready? … Emily can't come anymore – Lindy called to say that she is sick … Drats, we need to get going soon … Where did I put the lolly bags?"

Allie's mouth was running as fast as her brain could think as she ticked off the things she needed to do. Taking a moment to survey all the things piled up at the front door, she took off again.

"We've got my bag, Mia's bag and … yes, we've got the baby bag. Did you put more nappies in there? Yep, you did. Wipes, change of clothes, dummies, toys. We need to get the pram from the garage…"

"Don't bother," interjected Nick abruptly. "I'll take her."

"Okay," was her distracted response. If she hadn't been so worried about the upcoming party at McDonald's, Allie was would have noticed how unusually (more) quiet her husband was. She would have noticed that Nick already had Tali strapped into baby carrier on his chest, and was taking twice as long to pack the car as he was couldn't carry too much.

But she didn't notice, and even when they arrived at Macca's and he chose the more difficult car park right out the front – seeing as there were plenty free on the other side – she had other things on her mind. And when he had Tali in his arms instantly, she remained oblivious to her husband's strangely possessive behaviour, of a single mind as she headed inside the restaurant with the excited Mia holding onto her hand.

She had her first inkling that something was wrong not long after when she noted the time – fifteen minutes before the party was to start – and reached out her arms to Nick. "I'll give her a quick feed now." She was ready to comment on his reluctance to hand over their daughter, but was distracted when her mother arrived with the large number 7 cake.

Tallulah nursed easily and Allie willingly handed off the baby to Nick to burp not long after as she fixed up her shirt, her concern long forgotten, and the first two children arrived for the party.

Three hours later, Gianne Schaffer – the monstrous older mother that Allie despised (but barely tolerated because Jeremiah was a friend of Mia's) – arrived to pick up her son from the party. With the hated woman suddenly in front of her as she looked up from carefully easing out the lolly bags from a backpack, Allie was stuck. She couldn't exactly call in Nick from the playing area and ask to swap could she?

Plastering on a fake smile on her face, she attempted politeness. "You're a little early."

"Yes, yes," dismissed Jeremiah's mother. "I thought it best in case my Jeremiah wanted to leave early." Allie resisted the urge to crush the lolly bags as Gianne looked around McDonald's, the distaste clear on her face. "How, ah, quaint for you to have such an old-fashioned party in a place like this."

Allie was saved from replying – thankfully, as she wasn't sure what exactly her reply might have been – when the older woman's gaze sharpened and zeroed in on the form of Nick where he stood outside supervising the playground. "My, look at the baby," she exclaimed, though Allie had her suspicions that Gianne wasn't talking about Tali. "How nice it must have a man around this time." She turned her gaze to Allie. "It really is more proper," she said patronisingly.

"Mia," Allie heard Nick say, muffled by the glass between them. "Someone's leaving."

Her jaw hurt from keeping it clenched shut. "We're good," she managed to grit out.

"And so how old is that baby now?" continued Gianne, barely registering Allie's response.

"Fifteen weeks…" trailed off Allie. And two days, her mind added.

She froze, her eyes flying to the figure standing on the other side of the glass as she finally realised why Nick had been so odd all day.

Shit, she was a bad wife.

The door between the playground and party room swung open as Desiree Kingston ushered in Jeremiah and her granddaughter. Mia was almost jumping as she approached her mother. Without bothering to ask, she tugged a lolly bag from Allie's grasp and handed it to her friend.

"Thanks for coming, Jerry," piped up the birthday girl.

"Thanks for having me Mia," replied Jeremiah in a practiced tone. A large grin spread across his face as he added a few words of his own. "This party rocked." The once well-dressed boy turned to his mother then. "Mummy! I want a party like this for my birthday."

Allie might have smiled at indignant expression on Schaffer's face – either at her son being called Jerry or the prospect that her son would want such a party, maybe both – but her eyes were still glued on her husband. She saw now the possessive way he held their baby close.

And no wonder.

It wasn't until later that night that Allie had a chance to speak with Nick. Crossing her arms across her chest, she propped herself against the archway, taking a moment to look at Nick without him noticing her. Tallulah was curled up on her father's chest, his hand resting gently on her back as he looked down intently.

Loving catching these small scenes, Allie nevertheless slipped into the room and eased down onto the couch beside her husband. As Nick was slouched down, Allie was a full head above him when she rested against his side. Reaching out her arm, she gently brushed the very soft – very little – hair that could be found at on Tali's head before pulling her hand back.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she said softly.

In the end, she was more upset than he was, Nick surprisingly calm as he answered. "As long as I kept Tallulah safe, then that was all that mattered."

Allie was silent a moment, wondering what on earth was appropriate to say. She didn't even realise she was doing it, running her fingers through Nick's hair, the action so second nature to her now after more than a year of marriage, as she continued to think. "You did a pretty good job," she finally ventured.

Nick turned his face to hers for the first time, tilting it to the side as he looked up at her wryly. She smiled ruefully herself as she slid her hand down and cupped her husband's neck. Leaning down, she pressed her lips gently to his. It wasn't a long kiss, and by no means their most passionate one, but for Allie she comforted Nick – and herself – the best way she could.

Her fingers were threading through his hair once again when they drew back, Nick's own fingers copying her actions in her hair with his free hand as they held the gaze of each other, Tali sleeping on between them.

"I love you," Allie said seriously. It was all the more serious and meaningful because it was something that she very rarely said.

"I know."

Meanwhile at the back of the house, a huge grin on her face, Mia slept off the effects of a sugar-induced coma.

Finito.

Author's Note: And so we have arrived at the end of another story. Thanks to all my readers and reviewers, and if the muse should so cooperate, there will be a short sequel to this soon.