DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN...YOU KNOW THE REST

A/N: HOWDY! I AM BACK!

SPECIAL WELCOME TO NIENNA TINEHTELE

Mommy's boy

"Out on the ocean sailing away
I can hardly wait
To see you come of age
But I guess well both just have to be patient
cause its a long way to go
A hard row to hoe
Yes its a long way to go
But in the meantime

Before you cross the street
Take my hand
Life is what happens to you
While youre busy making other plans."
-Beautiful Boy, John Lennon

The first night at home had gone relatively well.

Kieran had fallen back asleep shortly after his two am bottle. Flack had re-wrapped him loosely in his receiving blanket and gently laid him on his side in his bassinet, a small rolled up towel on either side of him, preventing him from accidentally rolling over onto his stomach. The doctor had recommended the side sleeping to keep the reflux in check, and so far he'd had no incidences of spitting up in his sleep.

Once the baby was tucked back in securely, Flack returned to bed himself. Flopping down onto his stomach and out like a light before his face even hit the pillow. He'd never felt so emotionally and physically exhausted before in his entire life, and was worried if he felt like that after just the first day home, how the hell would he ever survive the coming days and months and even years?

The baby never stirred again until quarter after seven. By the grace of God, the infant had given his parents nearly five hours of uninterrupted sleep. Flack had heard his son's soft whimpering from the bassinet and was still contemplating whether he should do two feeds in a row or not, when he'd felt the mattress shift underneath him and felt his wife's hair brushing against his arm as she moved from her position tucked under that arm with her face in his neck. He had cracked an eye open and in the dim light coming through the bedroom window, watched as she climbed out of bed, checked the time on the clock radio and than shoved her feet into her slippers. Her heard her shuffling steps and the rustle of her clothes as she went to the end of the bed and went around to his side. Heard the gentle, melodic way she spoke to their son as she scooped him up and showered him with kisses before carrying him out of the room.

It was quarter to eight, when Flack, who somehow had found himself unable to sleep out of the pure excitement of his son finally being home and the fear that he was going to miss something if he didn't join his family, climbed out of bed and back into his jeans and a t-shirt and journeyed out into the living room. He found mother and son on the couch, Sam with her feet up on the coffee table,a burping towel over her shoulder and Kieran resting on his back on her thighs, his blue eyes wide open and focused on her face as she peered down at him and recited Itsy Bitsy Spider while drawing circles on his cheeks and forehead with a gentle fingertip.

"What'cha guys up to?" Flack asked, as he bent down and pressed a kiss to the top of his wife's head before sitting down on the couch beside her.

"He really likes this, Donnie," she said excitedly, stroking the bridge of the baby's nose. "I think it puts him in a daze. Watch....Itsy Bitsy Spider climbed up the water spout. Down came the rain and washed the spider out. Out came the sun and dried up all the rain and Itsy Bitsy Spider climbed up the spout again."

Flack smiled. At the love and tenderness and affection that his wife exhibited for their son in every word and every glitter of her eyes and in the way she touched him so softly. And the way Kieran stared up at her, transfixed by her voice. In complete and utter awe of this beautiful, amazing woman that had gone through hell to bring him safely and successfully into the world.

He reached out and laid a hand on the back of her neck and kissed her cheek softly. "You sleep okay, babe?" he asked, brushing a piece of hair behind her ear.

She nodded. "I heard you get up in the middle of the night," she said. "Thank you for letting me sleep."

"I have to admit, I was really tempted to wake you up," he told her. "But then I figured I'm just as much responsible for him being here as you are so I might as well do my share of work while I'm off."

"You are so generous," she giggled. "But thank you. You didn't have to get up with him. And you didn't have to come out here with us. You could have stayed in bed."

"I didn't want to stay in bed. And it's not that I felt I had to get up with him or come out here. It's because I wanted to."

She smiled. "Did you hear that Kieran?" she asked the tiny baby, picking up his feet and kissing them through his sleeper. "Daddy gave up sleep to spend time with us. You are witnessing a modern day miracle. Because that rarely happens."

"Don't teach him bad things about me already," Flack complained. "He's only two weeks old. Don't tarnish his image of me."

"His image of you?" she laughed. "Right now, he just sees some tall, goofy looking guy and maybe recognizes your voice from all that crap you were talking to him about the Rangers while he was still inside of me."

"Tall goofy looking guy?" Flack smirked.

"Sorry, honey. He can't really distinguish faces. Voices, yes. Faces, no. Would you look at his IV sight? It freaks me out to look at it."

"Why? What's it going to do to you?"

"I just don't like looking at it. It's gross. And it looks painful. Will you check it and make sure it's not red or anything?"

Flack leaned forward and carefully unbuttoned the leg on Kieran's sleeper and extracted his tiny foot. The IV was held it place by layers upon layers of clear tape. Second skin the stuff was called. He checked the best he could around the needle itself and than the top of his foot and the heel, looking for any signs of a possible infection.

"Good boy, Kieran," Sam stroked his hair and ran her finger over his eyebrows. "You're being such a good boy...daddy's not going to hurt you...are you daddy? Please be careful. Don't hurt him."

"I'm not going to hurt him, babe. I'm being as gentle as I.."

Kieran let out a shrill screech and than began to cry.

"Donnie!" Sam scolded him. "What did you do?"

"I accidentally may have pulled the IV out."

"What?" she cried. "How did you..."

"Calm down and hold him still and let me look, okay?"

"But he's crying and he barely cries. What should we do? We need to stop him from crying. How do we stop him from crying?"

"You need to stop freaking out. He can sense that you're upset and that will only freak him out more. Just hold him still and let me look at it. Quit shaking your legs and bouncing him around."

"What do we do if you did pull it out?" she asked. "Do we call the doctor? Take him to emergency?"

"Samantha, chill. We are not taking him anywhere. You're going to calm down and hold him still and I'm going to peel the tape off his foot and..."

"No!" she cried. "Don't! Leave it on!"

"I have to check if I pulled it out. Okay? He's fine, you're fine. Relax."

"I still think we should take him to the ER," she said.

"Samantha..." he said, warning in his tone. He carefully peeled the layers of tape off the tiny, wrinkled foot. The IV itself was inserted into the side of the foot, and was almost completely out. Blood was beginning to trickle out onto Kieran's soft, pale skin.

"Donnie!" Sam shrieked. "He's bleeding! He's bleeding! Do something!"

He slowly pulled the IV out completely, than snatched the burping towel off of his wife's shoulder and held it against his son's foot to stem the blood seeping out of the hole in his son's foot.

"What do we do now?" Sam asked, near tears.

"You give him to me and you go and get a Band-Aid and we put it on his foot," he told her, holding out his arms. "Than we leave a message for that home care nurse and we tell her what happened and ask her to bring the stuff to put the IV back in. Okay?"

She made move to get off the couch.

"Sammie," he said, firmly but gently. "Can you get Kieran a band-aid?"

She nodded and jumped up and hurried off.

"Daddy's sorry, K," Flack said to his bawling son. "He didn't mean to do that. It just sort of happened. Here," leaning forward, he snagged the seldom used soother sitting on the coffee table and popped it into the baby's mouth. "Every thing's going to be okay," he rocked the infant slowly in his arms. "Daddy didn't mean to hurt you."

"Yes you did," Sam grumbled as she returned, tearing open the packaging around the band-aid and pulling it out.

"Don't teach him things like that," Flack scolded her. "I wouldn't do anything to hurt him and you know that. You need to get a grip, Sammie. Look, he's not even crying anymore. He's doing that whiny, whimpering thing he inherited from you."

"You're so lucky I love you as much as I do," she declared, and softly and carefully applied the bandage to Kieran's foot. "Think it will be okay?" she asked. "He won't bleed to death will he?"

Flack looked at her as if she was crazy.

"Well he's so tiny," she reasoned. "That could be life threatening blood loss for someone that tiny."

"He's fine, Sammie. It will stop bleeding soon and the nurse can check it and his blood sugar levels when she gets here and maybe he won't need the IV put back in."

"That would be nice," she sighed and dropped down onto the couch. Yawning noisily, she leaned over and snagged the remote control off of the coffee table and flicked on the television. Channeling surfing until she found an old episode of Third Watch. "Just so you know, honey," she said to her husband as she tucked her legs underneath her and laid her head on his shoulder. "This is going to be my life for all of my maternity leave. I plan on staying in my jammies all day and watching television."

"If you think you have time to watch tv all day, than all the power to ya," Flack told her. "As long as you fit Kieran in there somewhere in between."

"Don't be smart," she said. "So maybe not the television part, but definitely the jammies part. It's just a word of warning. So you don't come home from work and get nasty about me being in my sleepwear all day."

"Think I care if you ever get dressed? As long as the kid is taken care of and the house is clean and there's food on the table, it's all good. Do whatever you want."

"A clean house and home cooked meals?" she snorted. "What do you think I am? Your wife or something?"

"I was thinking more along the lines of maid," he teased her.

"Your daddy is just so funny," Sam said to Kieran as she tucked his foot into his sleeper and buttoned it up. "He should be a stand up comedian somewhere, don't you think?"

"Look at the way he looks at you," Flack commented. "Whenever you talk. It's like he's in complete and utter awe of you."

"Of course he is," she said. "I'm mommy. And we all know that mommies are the center of the universe and can do no wrong."

"Yeah? Well if you ask me he looks at you that way because he knows where his food comes from and knows you're his meal ticket."

"Did you have to go and ruin my romantic day dreams about mommy hood?" she huffed. "Can't you just let me think that our son is looking at me with the utmost love and respect and adoration? That he thinks I'm just the most fantastic person on the face of this earth?"

"You know, that's probably actually what he's thinking and how he's looking at you," Flack said. "Seeing as that's exactly how I think and how I look at you. He gets it from me."

She smiled brightly, her eyes twinkling. "That was so incredibly corny yet so incredibly awesome at the same time," she declared.

"Well it's all true," he said and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "You know I love you. Even if I don't say it or show it as often as I probably should."

"You seriously underestimate yourself," Sam told him. "I never doubt for a minute that you love me. You always find some way to show me. You don't have to say it. It's in the little things you do. You probably don't even realize you're doing them. Like the way you stroke my hair or touch my face or put your hand on the small of my back. The way you smile at me and look at me. Even the way you bitch at me all the time. I see it all the time, Donnie. Trust me. I hope you see it. The way that I love you. You see it and feel it right?"

"All the time," he assured her. "And the best way you could have shown me is right here," he nodded down at the baby. "You giving me him? That's gotta be the best show of love and affection ever."

She smiled. "He's something else, isn't he?" she asked, pride in her voice and in her eyes as she pressed her lips to her son's head.

Flack nodded.

"It's weird how we waited so long and worried so much and had to fight every step of the way to get him here and now that he is here, all that bad stuff is forgotten. It's like he's been here forever and none of that other stuff happened. All I know is that I wouldn't give him up for anything in the world. Or you. Although I have to admit, you do drive me insane sometimes."

"That feeling is mutual, trust me," he laughed, and moved Kieran to his right arm so he could wrap his left around his wife's shoulders.

"I know we drive each other mental," she said. "And there's time we want to kill each other. But we always love one another. Do you think it will always be that way?"

"I know it will," he told her. "Don't ever doubt it. When we're in our nineties, living at some nursing home and we've been married sixty years and we're still fighting like crazy and wanting to kill one another, we're still going to be madly and crazily in love with each other. Nothing will ever change that."

"I like it when this cheery, optimistic side rears its ugly head with you," she laughed. "You're rather attractive when you're nice and sappy."

"As opposed to being hideous ugly all the other times?" he asked jokingly.

"Never. I love it when you're all snarky and sarcastic and bossy and aggressive. That's just so phenomenally sexy. I think that's the side of you that turns me on the most."

"Well consider yourself lucky than. Because that's the way I am ninety-five percent of the time. You just caught me at a sappy moment. It probably won't happen again for a long, long time. I don't do sappy and romantic. You've caught me at a rare moment."

"You're just all glowing and disgustingly happy because you're a new daddy," she said. "I don't think that smile has left your face since he came home yesterday afternoon. Actually, except for him being sick, I don't think it's left since he was born."

"I am very happy," Flack agreed, nodding slowly. "With my son and my wife. With my whole life, actually."

"Your whole life has drastically changed in less than a year," she observed.

"Yeah...but I wouldn't change it for anything in the world. There's a couple things that I'd get rid of and re-do if I could, but for the most part, there's not much I'd change. Your life has changed a lot to. Did you ever think when you left Zack and came back here that ten months later you'd be sitting on the couch with a husband and a baby?"

"Not in a million years," she responded. "I never thought I'd meet someone and fall in love as fast as I did. But I'm glad it happened. Because you gave me a second chance at a lot of things. You looked past all my issues and my baggage and accepted me the way I am. And I know that wasn't easy for you."

"You've been a challenge," he sighed. "You still are. But the more of a challenge you are, the more I fall in love you."

"You are so a glutton for punishment," she laughed. "You just love to torture yourself. But thank you. For not being scared away and for giving me a chance to be a good person. I like to think I've matured a lot since we've been together."

"I think we both have," he told her. "It wasn't a case of just you needing to change. I had to, too. But we managed. We got through things without killing each other. We got married and had our baby. And now we're a family."

She nodded. "I quite like my little family," she said.

"Me too," he said and kissed the top of her head. "You're a pretty good wife. I have to give you credit. You're not doing a half bad job. You're cooking skills could use a bit of work, but other than that..."

"Tell you what," she said and sat up. "If you buy me recipe books or cooking lessons, I promise to be that cute little housewife that you want so badly. But you have to promise me that in exchange for me being that cute little housewife, that you'll be less of a nag and critique me less when I do something wrong. Because I'm not perfect and that hurts my feelings when you do that."

"It's a deal," he kissed her softly. "And I'm sorry. I didn't realize it hurt you're feelings when I did stuff like that. I guess because I grew up seeing that with my dad, it's hard for me to know the right way to do things and the right things to say."

"You're not doing half bad," she said, and pressed her lips to his forehead. "You're a good man, Donnie. You know that, right?"

"I try," he responded, "I'm far from perfect. I know that."

"Well I don't want you perfect anyway," she said. "We don't want daddy perfect, do we Kieran," she said to their son as he lap contently along his father's arm. "He'd be too boring if he was perfect and we love him just the way he is. Well, most of the time. He does need to shave so he's not scratching our faces and giving us ouchies."

"Ouchies?" Flack laughed. "What kind of word is that?"

"It's a word people use when they have kids," she reasoned. "And you do need to shave," she added, trailing a finger along his cheek.

"I will shave once I manage to get my lazy ass into the shower," he assured her.

"Thank you," she said. "I hate how my face gets all chaffed when you haven't shaved in awhile. Although, you do look rather sexy and dangerous like that."

"Yeah? I wish I could say the same about your unshaven legs," he teased.

"Don, I haven't been able to bend over and touch my legs in nearly four months. Cut me some slack. I plan on getting all of that stuff done as soon as I feel up to it. Those stitches are still bugging the hell out of me."

"Want me to check them for you?" he asked, his eyes sparkling playfully. "Considering I haven't seen your goods of been anywhere near them for a long, long, long time."

"Two months, six days and about fourteen hours," she said. "But whose counting?"

"And it's going to be how much longer? Couple more weeks?"

"Four at the most," she said.

He sighed and shook his head.

"I'll get the Play Boy channel put on the television," she told him. "Would that make you feel better? No one is stopping you from doing your own thing you know."

"And no one or anything is stopping you from doing it for me," he retorted.

"Maybe I just don't want to touch it anymore because it's caused me sheer hell for the past nine months," she laughed. "Poor baby," she ran her fingers through his hair. "It's killing me just as much as it's killing you. Trust me. We'll suffer together."

"I'm telling you, that first time we do manage to make love again, we won't be leaving the bedroom for two days. So you better have someone to watch Kieran."

"You and your lofty promises," she said. "Look at him. I thought he'd be back asleep by now."

"He's having too much fun listening to us go back and forth with each other," Flack reasoned. "He's beautiful, Sammie," he said, smiling down at his baby. "We did a pretty good job."

"We did," she agreed. "I can't get over how much he looks like you."

"My looks, your brains."

"Hopefully," she said. "I mean, he has to get something from me, right?"

"He's got your freckles," Flack pointed out. "And the little ears that stick out."

"Maybe...but he's still all you," she sighed dramatically. "I do all the work and that's what I get in return? Nice."

They sat in silence, Sam's head on her husband's shoulder, his hand resting on her hip as they looked down, in complete and utter awe and love, at their infant son.

"Hard to believe we're mommy and daddy now," Sam commented, running a gentle hand over the baby's thick, black hair.

"A little," Flack agreed. "But you know what?"

"What?"

"Nothing has ever felt so perfect," he said.

She smiled and accepted a small kiss and laid her head on his shoulder once more. Content for the time being to bask in the warm, loving glow of her perfect little family.

The home care nurse had arrived shortly before noon hour and checked on both mother and son. Sam's stitches were taking longer than expected to heal and she was still in a considerable amount of discomfort and pain, and the episiotomy area showed a slight sign of affection. A call was made to the doctor and a prescription filled for both pain killers and an anti-inflammatory that were safe to take while breast feeding.

Kieran, on the other hand, was in far better shape. A simple prick to the finger to have his blood sugar level tested, showed that he was exactly where he should be and the IV no longer had to be used. His lungs sounded clear and showed no signs of infection, and his reflux, although still present with every feeding, wasn't as bad as it had been in the hospital. He was declared healthy, and apparently happy, and a follow up appointment had been made with the pediatrician for the following week.

"Why is Carmen hiding out in her room?" Sam asked, after the nurse had left and she'd managed to grab a shower and she and Flack, with Kieran in his papa-san chair in the middle of the kitchen table, went over medical bills and contemplated what to make for lunch.

"Maybe she's tired," Flack replied, as his eyes skimmed through one of the bills sent over by the hospital.

Thank God for company benefits. They still owed a significant amount for things that weren't covered by the department, but it wasn't staggering and certainly nothing to get too worked up about. But without benefits...he was scared to think how much in the hole they would be.

"It's nearly one in the afternoon," Sam said, sipping a glass of milk.

"Maybe she's not feeling well," he shrugged. "Who cares? She's a big girl. She can take care of herself. She doesn't need us making her meals and looking after her."

"I think it bothers her being around Kieran," Sam commented.

"Why would you think that?"

"Because she lost her baby. I can't imagine how I would have felt if something had have happened while I was pregnant and lost Kieran. That would have killed me. She lost her baby and than she comes and lives here with two people that just had a baby. That has to be hard."

"No one ever said she had to come here," Flack pointed out.

Sam frowned. "That sounded kind of harsh, Donnie."

"I'm just saying that she had other places to go. I know she's your best friend and she says she wants to help out with K. I get that. But she did lose a baby and we just had a baby and I hate how she makes me feel like I should be in mourning for her instead of being ecstatic because I just became a father. Like I'm doing something wrong for being happy about having a baby."

"I don't think she means to make you feel that way," Sam said. "But I kind of see where you're coming from. I feel like I'm doing something wrong for loving my baby and enjoying him and smiling a lot. I'm sure she'll come around sooner or later. It just must be really hard to deal with."

"You are far more understanding and sympathetic than I am," Flack sighed.

"Yeah..but you're a guy, Donnie. You're not suppose to understand stuff like that. Although you do have a tendency to be a little harsh about things."

"It's not being harsh, Sammie. It's being honest. I don't see why she'd come here after what happened. That has to be painful and she's still grieving or whatever for her baby. So why come to a place with a new baby in it? That's all I'm saying. Why torture yourself like that?"

She shrugged. "I know I wouldn't do it. But we all cope in different ways. No way is better than the other. It's all what gets us through."

He smirked. "Thank you, Doctor Phil."

"Mock me all you want," she said, finishing her milk and standing up. "Maybe one day I will go back to school and get a PhD and become a doctor. A therapist of some kind."

"Whatever you want, Sammie. If you want to go back to school somewhere down the road and do something else with your life, that's fine. As long as it's what you want."

"I am so glad you said that," she told him, as she opened the fridge and peered inside.

"Why is that?" Flack asked, gathering up all the bills and setting them in a neat pile on the table. "We owe about seven grand by the way."

"Even with our benefits?"

He nodded. "That's what we owe after things have been covered. You are one expensive wife. We can have that paid off in two payments. If we just use some of that money in the savings from dick head."

"That's what it's there for," she reasoned. "To help pay things off."

"Either that or I can get a second job," he said, sipping a cup of coffee. "I'm sure I am more than qualified to be a rent-a-cop at one of the department stores or at the Statue of Liberty. Or a jail guard. I know for a fact I could get hired by the department of corrections and pass their tests. Or maybe I should be a parole officer. Now that could be good for some shits and giggles. Can you imagine, babe? If I was a PO for guys I locked up to begin with? I should do that. Become a PO on the side. Which do you think better suits me? A parole officer or a jail guard?"

"How about..." she considered it. "None."

"What? You don't think I'd be a decent jail guard? I'd love to put the beats down on some of them cons."

"I'm sure you would. Just like the guys you've arrested and put in there would recognize you and love to put the beats down on you. And I quite like having you around, Donnie. So it's a no. I don't like that idea at all."

"Parole officer than, you like that one better?"

"I like you just the way you are. As a homicide detective."

"No second job, than?"

"You'd never be home with me and Kieran if you got a second job," she said, rummaging through the fridge. "Unless that's what you're aiming for."

"Never," he told her, fixing Kieran's blanket tucked securely around his peacefully, sleeping body. "I just think paying the bills is important."

"Than we use Zack's money," she said. "You do not need a second job. That's just stupid."

"Than you better play the lottery, than," he declared. "Because you are one expensive wife and he's one expensive kid."

"Only going to get worse, Donnie. When he gets older and wants the designer clothes and the expensive shoes and the video game systems and a fancy computer. Or when he wants to play hockey or other sports. Or he gets a girlfriend but doesn't have a job and needs us to fit the bill for his dates."

"Old enough to have a girlfriend, old enough to have a job," Flack reasoned and finished off his coffee and got up from the table. "That was my parents philosophy."

"And you were how old when you started dating?" she asked.

"Fifteen. By that time I''d been a paper boy since I was eight and I had spent two summers working as a caddy down at Kissena Park golf course in Queens and I'd just gotten a job at McDonalds."

"I can not picture you as a pimply faced, gangly and awkward fifteen year old flipping burgers," she laughed.

"Who said I was gangly and awkward and pimply faced?" he asked, wrapping his arms around her from behind and kissing her cheek. "I was devastatingly handsome even than. If me and you had have ever met, I guarantee you two things. One, you would have fallen madly in love with me, and two, you never would have left New York City because I never would have let you."

She smiled. "I was almost nineteen than, Donnie. I wouldn't have been into a fifteen year old."

"Sure you would have. Look at me. Look at what I have to offer. Especially below the belt."

"You are such a perv," she laughed and hugged his arms to her. "Is this the same girlfriend at fifteen that you lost your virginity to? In the back of your father's caddy?"

"That was Bianca D'Fazio. And it's the same girlfriend but that was prom night. I'd already lost it to her the year before. Than she was dating this buddy of mine. Me and her just hooked up. Strictly to do the nasty."

"I do not want the details of your teenage years sex-capades," she declared. "But it must have been good sex if you guys ended up boyfriend and girlfriend in the end."

"Back than it was good sex. But I didn't know good from bad at that age. Now you..." he kissed and nuzzled her neck. "You have far surpassed anyone I have ever been with."

"Best sex you ever had?"

"Hands down," he assured her. "But like I was saying, my folks said as soon as I was old enough to date, I was old enough to work and pay the bills for our dates and what not. So that's what I did. And Kieran can do the same thing when he gets a girlfriend."

"Just so you know now, Donnie. The birds and the bees talk? That's up to you. As is enforcing the use of condoms on him. I do not want him knocking someone up at fifteen."

"I agree. I'll take care of all that. But first, maybe we should think about getting him to his first birthday before we have him off having sex. Sound good?"

"Sounds good," she agreed. "And you know what else sounds good?"

"What's that babe?"

"You making me some lunch," she said, patting him on the arm and slipping out of his embrace.

He sighed. "I just walked right into that one, didn't I."

"Yes," she laughed as she left the one. "You did."

It was quarter to four when the social worker finally showed up. Flack answered the door and immediately felt a scowl cross his face at the sight of the familiar face. Nancy Chambers, or the Ice Queen, as he and many of the other detectives who'd had the unfortunate of crossing paths with her during cases called her, was undoubtedly one of the most evil women in the city. She was a short, heavy set woman with chin length brassy blond hair who wore way too much makeup for her age. For any woman of any age for that matter. And she had a high pitched voice that absolutely drove Flack nuts. He'd had a couple of runs in with her when he questioned the way she was treating kids taking in as wards of the state. He felt she needed to have more compassion and treat these children, who'd already been victims of crime. Well she had taken serious offense to his criticisms and lost it on him. He now wondered, as he stood staring down at her, if she'd purposely took them on when she saw the name Flack come up in the computer.

"Detective Flack," she greeted, a condescending look on her face. "Long time no see. I see you've gotten into the business of baby making on top of your police work."

"Guess you could say I got lucky," he retorted.

A smile tucked at her upper lip. But she held it back. "I was quite surprised when I saw your name come up. Not just because you had a child, but because last time we spoke, you seemed to have all the answers to child rearing. Yet here I am. Checking up on you."

"Well why don't I save you the hassle of taking off your boots and your coat than. Everything is fine here. My son is fine, I'm fine, my wife is fine. We're all fine. In fact, we are so fine it would be against the law to be any more fine. So there's really no need for us to waste your time, is there."

"You know how these things work," she said, toeing off her black leather boots and setting them alongside the door. "I need to talk to you and your wife and observe her with the child. You are not the issue. Your wife however..."

"My wife is doing great. She's happy and she's relaxed and she's doing awesome with the baby. There is nothing wrong with her mood whatsoever."

"And you expect me to just take your word for it? Someone who makes a living out of fooling people to get the answers he wants? Excuse me if I'm not that gullible. Now are you going to invite me in or shall I get you to bring your wife and child out here in the hallway?"

He sighed, relegating himself to the fact that there was no way around having that bitch in his house and around his family. He opened the door further and motioned for her to come inside.

"Why thank you," she said as she stepped into the apartment. "Isn't it nice to be a gentleman once in a while?"

"I'm a gentleman all the time," he responded. "Just only to the people that warrant it. My wife's in the living room with the baby."

He led the way from the small foyer and through the kitchen and out into the spacious living room. Where Sam was sitting cross legged in the middle of the living room floor, with Kieran on his back on a polar fleece Winnie the Pooh blanket, as she spoke to him in a soft, soothing face while massaging lavender scented baby massage oil into his legs and on the bottom of his feet. Telling him how badly he scared mommy and daddy and how they were so frightened of losing him. And to never, ever do something like that again, because mommy and daddy would be too sad.

"Does she look depressed to you?" Flack asked the social worker. "Does that woman seem despondent? She's fine. She's been amazing with him since we got home. She laughs and sings to him and tells him stories and plays with him and does everything for him. Feeds him and changes him and baths him. She's so gentle with him. Look at her. Look at her and tell me that there's something wrong with her."

"I can only go by what the hospital told me, Detective Flack. And they told me that she was depressed and down and that her moods were unstable."

"Our son was sick. Our brand new baby who we'd fought damn hard to even get into this world, could have very easily died. He was in the NICU hooked up to tubes and needed oxygen to breath properly. Everything was fine with him and than boom, he got sick and we could have very easily lost him. And than they shove her in that goddamn bunk room and wonder why she's depressed? That's a lot of shit for one woman to deal with. She's in the room, all by herself, while her baby is in the NICU and I'm at home because it's against hospital policy for me to be in that jail cell with her, and you wonder why she was down? Give me a goddamn break."

"Our main concern at CPS is the child," she told him. "And we were told that you're wife..."

"I am in the room," Sam spoke up. "I can hear you. And I do have a name."

"Mrs Flack," the social worker greeted as she approached her, a hand outstretched. "I'm Nancy Chambers from..."

"I know where you're from," Samantha said. "And I can't believe the hospital wasted your time by calling you and sending you here."

"They were concerned about your moods," the other woman reasoned. "You were showing signs of post-partum depression."

"I was upset that my baby was sick," Sam argued. "He's my first baby and I went through hell to bring him into this world. We almost lost him a couple of times during my pregnancy and I worked hard to get him into this world safely. And he got sick and we were afraid of losing him. Of course I was upset. And than I was shoved into that little room and kept away from the other real support I have," she gestured to Flack. "And than people wonder why I'm sad? How would you feel?"

"I understand you're frustrated," Nancy said.

"I'm not frustrated. I'm not even angry. I'm irritated that you come to our house when there's so many kids out there that need help. Kids that are in desperate need. You say that my husband makes a living fooling people to get what he wants, well in my experience, you people do nothing more than harass families like us, while the kids that are being abused and being mistreated and neglected are ignored and slip through the cracks. You send children to foster homes that are just as bad, if not worse, than where they were before. Or you send kids back home and declare every thing fine and than wonder a couple months later what went wrong and why that same kid ended up in a body bag."

The social worker blinked.

"Don and I love our son," Sam continued. "We love him and we were afraid we were going to lose him. And you people have the nerve to come here because I was sad that my baby was so sick. You're wasting your time here. We are good people and we are good to our son. You should be out helping the poor, defenseless kids that need it the most. Because you know what will happen to those kids? Months down the road when I get back to work, I'm going to be the one taking photographs and processing the crime scene and listening to the medical examiner giving me cause of death. All because those kids didn't get what they needed. Because no one could be bothered to care enough about them to give them the help they should have gotten. Because CPS were wasting their times with families like ours."

Nothing more needed to be said. On Sam's part at least. The social worker stayed for half an hour, sitting on the couch as she observed the parents together and with their infant son. She asked them if they had any concerns regarding parenthood or any fears about what they were doing. And than she shook their hands and praised Kieran about what good boy he was and gushed about how beautiful she was and Flack showed her to the door.

Sam was tidying the living room when he returned. Kieran slept soundly in his portable playpen while his mother busied herself with neatly arranging toys and diapers. Flack stood at the back of the couch, leaning over it, watching her with a smile on his face.

"What?" she asked. "You're making me nervous."

"Have I ever told you how much I love you?" he responded.

"Yeah...but I like hearing it."

"You were incredible, Sammie. Watching you with Kieran and hearing what you said to that woman? It was nothing short of amazing."

"I wouldn't go that far..."

"I would. And seeing what I did and hearing what I did? I do not want to ever hear you tell me again that you're not strong and that you're not capable of handling yourself. Because you are. You totally underestimate yourself and I don't want to hear that ever again. Got it?"

She nodded.

"I can honestly say, at this moment, after all that, that I have never been so proud of you. Or so honored to be your husband."

She fought back tears at those words. "Don't make me cry, Donald," she scolded.

"You know what would make this awesome husband and wife moment even better?" he asked.

She shook her head.

"If you got your ass in there,"he jerked his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the kitchen. "And made me some dinner."

She laughed. "There's canned stuff. And a can opener. Use it."

"Way to ruin the moment, Sammie," he laughed as he headed for the kitchen.

"Donnie?" she called to him.

He stuck his head into the room.

"I'll make you a deal," she said.

"I'm listening."

"I will make you dinner if you promise to love me forever and ever."

He smiled. "That's a done deal," he said.

Thanks to everyone that is reading and reviewing! And thanks for all of your support and all the great messages I have received! And thanks even to the lurkers! But please, please drop me a line, folks!

Thanks to:

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Forest Angel

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Nienna Tinehtele