Well here is the next chapter of this story. I'm working on multiple things right now, and for anyone who reads MEMF- Gray is being rather difficult. I'm working on a few new things, trying to be productive. Hopefully I'll update more over the holiday this week :)

I adjusted my glasses as I escorted the last member of the final group of the day out of the museum, sighing as I locked the doors firmly behind them.

"What a day," I muttered to myself, running my long skinny fingers through my shaggy bangs and absent mindedly reaching back to make sure my pony tail was secure and not messy. It was amazing I hadn't managed to pull it out today after running three elementary school field trips and four middle school ones through the place.

Middle school students mostly came on these field trips to get out of classes for the day, and weren't all that interested. Elementary students on the other hand tended to be more mischievous and more opt than not to get separated from the group and cross boundaries on the exhibits to get a better look. That of course usually ended in damage to our exhibits, and more work for both me and Ms. Rivers.

I sighed again as I walked towards the elevator, leaning against the cool metallic wall as I hit the button for the collections basement. I stared at my reflection in the metal, my large green eyes glaring at me tiredly as the doors shut and the elevator began to descend.

"So are you going to ask her today Rick? Or will you stand there smiling stupidly at her while another opportunity slips by you?"

I pulled a small box out of my pocket after a moment, fingers brushing over the black velvet before returning it to my pocket.

It was too soon.

Claire didn't even have a clue that I loved her.

All she had time for in her life was work and her son.

And she didn't even see me as anything more than a good friend.

And I had already learned from previous experience that being a good friend couldn't work out all your problems. My ex wife had proven that to me.

Understanding, friendship, and even love can only get you so far when the other party was addicted to alcohol.

Karen and I had been married roughly two years, and though she had quit drinking during her pregnancy of our son Eric, she had picked up again shortly after he was born. That hadn't been what ended it though. It had been her affair with Jack Richardson.

Karen had filed for divorce two weeks before our second anniversary, and it had finalized rather quickly considering I had been in too much of a shock and too hurt to fight it.

Jack was a decent man, all things considered, and I was deeply indebted to him for shielding Eric from his mother's demons. Jack had called me a few months ago to inform me that I should file for custody of my son, seeing as how he was planning on divorcing Karen and she was not able to care for the child as he needed her to with her problems.

So I already had one failed marriage, a broken home, and a son I was allowed visitation to for every other weekend, the winter holidays and a few weeks during the summer. But if the high dollar lawyer I had hired to file for full custody of Eric was worth what I was paying him, than I should be able to bring my son home with me all the time when Karen's divorce was finalized.

I straightened my tie when I felt the elevator lurch to a stop, my thoughts returning to the woman that would be in here, cataloging some newly acquired items. It took me a little longer to find her, and I really wasn't all that surprised that she was carefully cleaning some late renaissance paintings.

I watched as she dabbed the painting in certain places with a cotton swab soaked in a safe cleaning solution. My eyes followed the gentle flow of her hand as she worked, before flickering to her body to examine her. Her long khaki skirt hid her long legs and her lavender blouse made her blue eyes more vivid than usual, and that was only amplified under the lenses of the glasses she always wore when working on something meticulous. Her posture was stiff as she concentrated, but one could still make out her slender figure. Her golden hair was pulled into a sloppy bun that some strands of hair had fallen out of, wisps of the stray bits framing her heart shaped face.

Claire was no doubt a very gorgeous woman, even though she didn't realize it.

"It's time to go home," I said, chuckling when she jumped. Her face turned towards me, her hand over her chest as she tried to calm her heart. She then lifted her hand up, glancing at her watch and frowning.

"Oh my…" she murmured, rubbing her temple with one hand and beginning to gather her supplies with another. "It's nearly time to pick up Kal," she muttered, shaking her head at her own forgetfulness.

"I know," I drawled out, crossing my arms over my chest and leaning against the wall as she shoved her things into a drawer. "That's why I came down here to make sure you didn't get lost in your work. Again."

"Richard," she chided, narrowing her eyes at me as she removed her glasses. I stuck my tongue out at her, knowing she had used my full name to let me know she wasn't in the mood for my teasing. "You know…if I didn't believe that I would forget the way out of here, I wouldn't put up with you."

"That hurts," I said, frowning at her statement. She simply shrugged her shoulders and grabbed her purse. "Do we need to get anything to bring to your brothers tonight?"

"Not that I'm aware of," she murmured, glancing down at her watch again. "Let's go. I promised Kal I wouldn't be late…"

I nodded and walked with her and back to the elevator. I could smell her Verra Wang perfume, and sighed some. It was difficult to long for someone the way I did her.

It was even harder when I wasn't exactly sure why.

Claire had come to the museum when she had first gotten pregnant, and I suppose since I had just lost my wife and son, I had clung to her more than I should have. I knew for the most part her family approved of me- with the exception of her brother Mark. He felt that I was clinging to Claire and her son as a way to replace my own. I resented that opinion, but then again it wasn't really Mark's that mattered.

It was Gray's. And he had been more than happy with the idea of me being a stable man in his baby sister's life.

And a father figure for his nephew.

Though I wasn't sure what would happen when I had my son returned to me.

I jumped when I felt the small device in my pocket began to buzz, narrowing my eyes at the ringtone that began to play. I sighed and mumbled an apology to Claire as I answered the phone, hearing the all too familiar sounds of a pub in the background.

"Karen, what is wrong?"

"You need to go get him," she slurred out some, and I narrowed my eyes at the tone of voice. "Jack won't do it, and I'm not ready to leave…"

"I'll get him," I said firmly, reaching up to rub my temple in frustration. Less than two minutes on the phone with ones ex wife could result in a migraine of epic proportions.

"I'll pick him up when I leave," Karen began to offer and I furrowed my brow.

"No. Eric will stay with me tonight. There is no need for you to come get him. I'll take him back to nursery school in the morning," I assured her, and after a long pregnant pause I heard her sigh.

"Fine. Keep him all week then. Jack's going out of town. Eric knows where the spare key is at. Pick up his clothes."

I muttered an alright before snapping the phone shut, a long drawn out sigh leaving me. I felt Claire's small hand on my arm and turned to see her offering me a reassuring smile.

"I take it plans have changed, and you can't take me to the rehearsal," she murmured out. I would like to think that she was somewhat disappointed, but I knew already she wasn't. She was still very much clinging to the man that had impregnated her.

"I'm afraid so. I can still drop you off, but…I have to go get Eric's things from Karen and Jack's apartment."

"It can't be helped then."

I frowned some at her words, and stiffly nodded my head as we made it to the car. I opened the passenger door for the woman, and closed it behind her once she was safely inside. For some reason…I had a rather bad feeling about the events that were going to take place tonight.

And when I saw an eerily familiar looking fellow- with olive skin and brown hair, probably around my age, stepping out of a taxi with a redheaded woman and slightly younger looking version of himself and walking into the large building Claire had just disappeared in, that feeling simply intensified.

"Daddy, what's wrong?"

"Nothing Eric," I assured my son, turning around to give him a smile. I watched as he gave me an awkward grin, adjusting his large wire rimmed glasses and pushing his long bright redish looking hair out of his face. I ruffled his hair before merging back into traffic.

Things were about to change- I could feel it in my gut.