Reminder: Everything in between /these/ are Lindsey's thoughts.

A/N: I hadn't intended on making this chapter so long. It just kept flowing, I hope there aren't too many OC's for everyone's liking (Angel and crew will be in the story eventually.)

Lindsey left the Social Services office and immediately entered an address into the GPS on his BMW. He felt as if he was on autopilot, focused on getting to his destination without really considering much else. He really hadn't even taken in where he was going, but he knew it was the only place he could go.

It wasn't long until the GPS informed him he had reached his destination. He took a minute before parking the car to look at where he was. An LA suburb, on a nice tree lined street with all of the houses well maintained, but none had the modern look at lot of upper middle class homes were changing over too. The one he was parked in front of specifically; was a moderately sized brick colonial, with a stone decorated doorway and bright flower's along the stone pathway to the porch steps. He was pretty sure a house like that didn't even exist within a 3-5 mile radius of any of the places he lived in, depending on where they were at the time, back in Oklahoma. He parked the car in front of the house and looked over the right side of the house. No side doorway. He went over to the left, where he saw a staircase behind the gate to the yard that had a doorway at the bottom. That had to be what he was looking for. He walked down the steps and began to knock the door frantically. "Who the-oh, Hi! Calm down, you'll make your hand fall off and you just got it back!" Sam scolded as she let him in her basement apartment. "What's wrong?" She knew it must have been something big, not because of the knock, but because she had invited him over many times for dinners, BBQ's, and he'd always say 'maybe', but had never come. "Don't tell me your hand has a mind of its own again?"

"No…"

"I'll quit if Darla's…"

"NO! My personal life has apparently existed without me knowing it," he replied as he looked around her place. For a moment, his mind wasn't on his new found father-status. "That's a giant purple couch!" he exclaimed, staring at the big sofa that was deep purple, with a swirl pattern sewn on the back with a slightly darker purple. He was sure the aqua walls made it stand out even more.

"It's also the most comfortable thing your ass will ever meet. So sit on it and explain what's brought you to my dungeon of color."

Lindsey sat on the couch. /Damn this is comfortable./ "So, a social worker came to my apartment today, to tell me that I have a daughter!" he blurted out.

Sam was stunned. "W-w-w-hat?"

"Yeah, that's pretty much where I am too. One of my old girlfriends, apparently, had my kid and didn't tell me until she dumped her at some state office," as he told the story, his tone went from shock to anger, with his southern accent getting stronger as he went on.

"Are you sure this isn't a scam?" she asked cautiously.

"Believe me, that was my first thought. But it's legit. Actually, from what I've been told the little girl is Teresa's age."

"What kind of bottom feeder would just ditch their little girl after years of depriving her of having a good father?" she yelled, her maternal rage in full force, and her New York accent was as clear as day. "Where I'm from, this night would be ending by the East River. It's got to become more accessible to the West Coast…"

/Good father… we'll see/ "Kristina Young, that's who," he seethed.

Sam leaned under her coffee table and pulled out a copy of US Weekly, and flipped around until she found what she was looking for. "Not this Kristina Young?" She showed him a photograph taken a week ago at a nightclub involving various socialites and reality "stars" dancing on a table with bottles of champagne.

"That's her." Lindsey grabbed the magazine and threw it against a wall.

"Did that help?"

"For a minute. I need your help, that's why I'm here." He sat back down. "I have no idea what I'm doing here."

"Well, no one knows what to do right away, and this just popped up on you…"

"Should she even be coming home with me on Monday?"

Sam moved closer to him and shifted back to being angry. "Lindsey, you can't give this kid up. God knows what this has done to her, where she'll go…."

"I know that," he cut her off. "If it weren't for a certain job of mine, I wouldn't have even questioned it for the few seconds I have."

"Fuck them," she threw her hands in the air. "You have before. Everyone knows you're the so-called "golden boy", the fact that you're still sitting here after the things you've done proves you, somehow, can get want you want out of that place."

"Yeah, and you think I can keep it up forever?"

"Well, I've yet to see you lose. I get the feeling a pep talk wasn't exactly the kind of help you meant before."

"No, my mind is made up. But thank you for it anyway. I guess I should get my life kid-friendly sooo…"

"Let's go spend your money! But if you need another pep talk, just say the words," she looked around the room, "I think I have poms-poms around here somewhere…"

/Don't go there, Linds-/

"We'll go right after dinner," she decided, interrupting his thoughts.

"Dinner?"

Just then they heard a door open above them, "Potato! Dinner! Now!" a man bellowed down.

"Potato?" Lindsey raised an eyebrow.

"Shut up, and come up."

"Oh I don't…"

She stomped her foot. "Come on. How many times have I invited you here? You're not intruding, come join the madness or no shopping."

Lindsey was sold. They headed up the staircase into a kitchen. Lindsey was kind of surprised by the kitchen. His apartment had higher end countertops and appliances, but it was big, decorated with hanging ceramic pieces of fruits and vegetables, three black ovens, and every countertop cooking appliance out there, that all seemed well used. But what he noticed first, was the smell as soon as the door had opened; the smell of homemade food. "Hey!" a familiar voice squealed, from her perch on a counter, licking batter off the Kitchen Aid Mixer.

A red haired women turned around from facing her stove to see who her granddaughter was so excited about. "Oh, hello! Samantha, I didn't know you were having company, I would have made something better!"

"Mom, it's fine. There's a work issue that needs to be handled, I didn't plan on it either. This is my boss, Lindsey McDonald," she explained. "I apologize in advance for this," she then whispered to Lindsey as her mother dropped her spoon and made a b-line for him, embracing him in a tight one sided hug. It was awkward, but he couldn't find a reason to complain about it, either. "Mom, I want to still have a job on Monday. "

The woman backed off. "Sorry. It's just I've been really looking forward to one day meeting the nice boy that gave my Samantha such a good job, so soon out of training. She always talks about you."

/Nice boy… yeah…wait, she talks about me?/

"Well Sam can't through an hour without mentioning any of you, I feel like I know you all, Mrs. DeSantis" he told her with his best manners on display.

"Oh please, call me Viki."

"He won't," Sam her told her mom.

"I'm-I'm sorry I wasn't expecting to be here, I didn't bring anything… is there something I can help with?" he asked.

"Absolutely not. Have a seat in at the table and make yourself comfortable. Sam, get out some drinks and the good plates."

"Mom, he doesn't need the good plates," she rolled her eyes. "I'm shocked you don't want us in the dining room, too."

"Well, my sewing machine is on it because someone didn't tell me company was coming. Now don't make a scene and do as I asked. One of you two," she pointed to her daughter and granddaughter, "go outside and claw you-know-who back in here and away from his damn vegetables." Viki paused, "Excuse my language."

"Don't worry about it," Lindsey assured her, taking a seat at their large, round, kitchen table that was on the other side of their breakfast counter. "Are you sure I can't get anything out?"

"I'm positive. Excuse me one minute," Viki exited the kitchen and went up the staircase. Teresa jumped off her counter and ran in the yard.

"You're mom's nice," Lindsey commented as he got up and went over to where Sam was removing plates. "I'll take them."

"She'll beat me if she see's me letting you," Sam countered, handing him the plates. Then, she got out glasses and brought them to the table herself, followed by going over to the fridge. "What do you want to drink?"

"Take out Uncle Vito's wine," a deep voice called behind her opening the back door and holding tomato's in one hand, and a bowl of mixed grilled vegetables in the other, placing them both down by the sink.

"Daddy, we have to go out later…"

"So?"

"So, one glass of Uncle Vito's wine is like drinking half a bottle," she pointed out. "But it is very good," she turned to Lindsey and said.

"You drink?" Lindsey questioned, surprised. "You've never even sipped champagne during toasts…" The law firm didn't take drinking laws, much like murder charges, very seriously.

"That's what I like to hear," the older man interrupted.

"Mainly just wine, sometimes…"

"Not that I condone underage drinking, but when I was a kid you could legally drink at eighteen and the doctors used to actually recommend it as an appetite enhancer for kids. The word is so uptight these days. Plus, how can you enjoy a good meal without it..." her father added.

"Anyway," Sam continued, "honestly I just don't like the feeling of drinking too much. Which is why as much as I love Uncle Vito, I'll pass. You should too, you have to get up early tomorrow for Teresa's t-ball game."

"That's right," Paul DeSantis remembered. How could he have forgotten, he had begged the little girl to sign up in the first place. "I'll have a beer, how about you, Lindsey?"

"Why not, Mr. DeSantis." /God knows I could use a drink. Maybe I should take that wine to go…/

"Please, call me, Mr. Soprano," the man laughed, Sam joined him immediately. "Sorry, I couldn't help it."

The back door opened once again and Teresa came running through with a giant mastiff-looking dog; that was taller than she was standing on his four legs. Right away the dog –carefully- pushed passed the little girl and went over to Lindsey, and took an attack stance, looking around at his family members. It took a lot to scare Lindsey at this point in his life, this thing was terrifying. "It's okay, Buck. He's good," Sam assured her dog, putting her hands around his neck in a hug in the midst of his intimidation. The dog calmed down and began to sniff the lawyer curiously.

"Buck, you're much nicer in your picture," he said to the dog, reaching out his hand to gently pet him. They were becoming fast friends.

"Do you have a doggie?" Teresa asked Lindsey, taking a seat at the table.

"No. I like dogs though. Big dogs, not those little ones."

"Why do you have one?"

He shrugged. "Too busy."

"There's no point in having a dog that can't protect your family," Paul added, handing Lindsey a beer.

"Oh no, here we go," another male voice said coming down the staircase behind Viki's return. There was another male behind him.

"What?" Paul asked. "It's the truth."

"Lindsey these are my brothers, Chris and Danny. Danny's the lucky guy that shared the womb with me."

"That's why I was born first, couldn't take her anymore," Danny pushed passed his sister and shook Lindsey's hand. "How ya doin'?"

"Good, nice to meet you both," Lindsey greeted. "So Danny, Sam's told me you're studying criminal justice?"

"Yeah, but I'm still not sure if Law School is what I want to pursue. I'm still considering something like detective work. For the police, not like in one of those lame wannabe agencies, full of people that would never make it on a force."

/Good sense runs in the family./ "Understandable," Lindsey said trying not to smirk. "Well if you ever need a recommendation…" /Evil goes a long way…/

"I'll write it up and forge your name," Sam finished. "Dear college, please take pity on this guy…"

"Not in front of company!" Paul demanded.

Victoria placed a platter of chicken cutlets, mashed potato's and fried eggplant on the table along with the grilled veggies and tomato's, went over to the refrigerator and removed macaroni salad, cheese, lettuce and mayonnaise. "There's hero bread for sandwiches or you can have it on a plate. Again, I apologize for such an informal dinner, I would have put on a pot of sauce…"

"Please," Lindsey cut her off. "This looks great." /Maybe I should be taking notes on how a regular family acts… / "So what kind of dog is Buck, again, Sam?" he questioned as the dinner got underway.

"South African Boerboel. It took us forever to find one," she answered.

"But it was worth the wait," Paul added. "All those alarm systems and whatnot?" he waved a dismissive hand "all you need is a good dog and a gun to know your family will be safe."

Lindsey couldn't help but laugh. It was made funnier by the fact that everyone at the table -Teresa included- had appeared like they've heard that many times. "I grew up in the south, around a lot of people that would subscribe to that."

"Does your family still live there or have they moved out here?" Sam's mom asked curiously.

Sam never the subject of family was a touchy subject with her boss, though she didn't know all the details, so she decided to spare him "Dad, Lindsey's a Yankee fan," Sam stated before Lindsey could answer. It worked just as she thought it would. Baseball was the topic for the remainder of the dinner.

Once the table was cleared it was time to make their exit. "Okay. We have to leave, there's work that needs to be done," Sam said to her parents.

"You're not staying for dessert? I think your brother and the kids are coming by…" her mom replied.

"I have something really important to work on and Sam knows where everything is. Sorry to take her away…"

"Yeah and I'm sorry I'll miss a chance to see them without her around." Lindsey was aware that she didn't like her sister-in-law, and he got the impression the rest of the family agreed.

"I hope they come. Cousin Cara and I need to have a talk..." Teresa added, looking at Lindsey. Sam rolled her eyes. Good thing they were leaving.

Finally, they took off to the stores.

TBC

Thank you for reading. Reviews are really appreciated. Up next shopping and Lindsey gets thrown a curve ball when he meet's his daughter. What will she be like? How will he deal with her name? You'll find out soon.