Exhaustion had blurred sleep and awareness so that Robin no longer knew the difference. She had heard it would be like this, but she had underestimated how tired she would be, how tired they all would be. Ever since she had woken up, Morgan had stuck to her like glue and, while she had never been happier to hear him call her Mommy, she wished it wasn't a reaction to the horrendous nightmare they had gone through together.

At the very mention of sleep, he had crawled in-between her and Patrick and fallen asleep. When he chose Patrick's arm for a pillow, his sleepy stepfather had followed him into a dreamful slumber a few minutes. Only Robin remained awake. Even Nathan was asleep in his crib. She wondered why they had put him so far away, because if he started to cry she might never make it over there, at least not without crawling.

She stroked Morgan's hair as he slept, just a light touch to keep from startling him, and thought about all that she had to be thankful for. Who would have thought that, just a year ago, she had been stumbling through her feelings for Patrick, not sure which ones to trust? It hadn't become an issue until he seemed to care for her just as much. With some effort, her hand moved from Morgan's hair to Patrick. He still snored like Winnie the Pooh.

Nothing mattered more than what she had in this room. Somehow she had managed to branch away from her immediate family and help create a little one of her own; she knew she couldn't have done it without her boys. Their infinite patience, sour tempers, and insistence that she be everything she could be had steered her toward a life she hadn't dared to hope for. A tear fell from her eyes and she quickly brushed it away. No sorrow here.

Was the two-year anniversary of her being awarded custody of Morgan really coming up? She could still remember how much she had worried about being a good role model for him. The doubt she had felt was only now starting to diminish from her mind. She hadn't thought she could do it, anyone in the world would be better at it than her, but lo and behold look at her now. Not only was she a mother to one, now she had two little boys who she loved more than life itself and a man to share her every day with. Life didn't get better than this.

Nathan whined and Robin figured it had been inevitable. The moment she started thinking about him, he sensed it and sought her out. He didn't cry, just whined, even when he was hungry. The only time he cried was when something spooked him. He didn't like surprises. For all intents and purposes, he was very happy baby. He was still too little to laugh, but she caught him working at his smile everyday. Though he hadn't mastered it yet, he was nothing if not resilient.

"It's okay Nathan," Robin cooed to him. "Mommy's coming." Once he heard her voice, his whine dwindled away and his eyes searched frantically for her face. He couldn't immediately see her over the rim of the crib. She must have taken too long because he started to wail. "Hey. Hey." She lifted him out of the crib and brought him to rest across her chest. "It can't be all that bad." She was whispering even though she bet a tornado could rip the roof off and neither Patrick nor Morgan would be disturbed.

Her mother had sent over a bunch of cloth diapers for reasons none of them understood so Robin went through the process of checking the diaper to see if he was in need of changing or if any of the pins were poking him. "Well that shortens the list, doesn't it?" She asked rhetorically when she saw that it wasn't the diaper that was bothering him. Maybe he was hungry.

She carried him downstairs, bouncing him as she went, and finally found the kitchen. It didn't seem to matter how long she lived here; she still had a hard time getting from one place to the next. It was ridiculously large, but she doubted she would want to live in anything smaller with two little boys. She bent down in front of the dishwasher and pulled it open. "Drat." There were no clean bottles. "I really wish your daddy would learn how to work the dishwasher." Whether he felt the need to defend Patrick or he was tired of waiting on her to figure out what was the matter, he started to rub his face roughly across her formula-stained blue shirt and fisted his little hands. "Gee, I wonder where you got that from." As if to argue, he glanced up at her, his chocolate eyes bloodshot from the short time he had been crying. "Okay, so maybe you got it from me."

Robin pulled open all of the cabinets, desperate for a bottle, just one bottle. She couldn't even clean out the dirty ones because they had been left in the sink too long. "I won't always be this scatterbrained." She promised adamantly. "I'll get this together eventually. I promise. A few more weeks at the most."

"Are you bargaining with the baby again?" Patrick's sleepy drawl came from right behind her. She glanced over her shoulder and scowled at him. Why couldn't she look that good on so little sleep?

"There aren't any bottles." Robin explained choking on sudden tears.

"Sure there are." Patrick argued. "Remember? Mac sent about a million spares." She vaguely remembered that. It must have shown in her expression. "I'll get them."

Robin stood there, not sure what else to do, and waited for him to return with a clean plastic bottle. Neither of them had enough energy to smile when he handed over the bottle. Nathan grabbed for it even though it had yet to be prepared and they let him suck on it while Robin prepared the bottle. "My hero."

"Do you want me to hold him?" Patrick offered.

"No, I've got him." Robin shook her head.

"Care it I borrow this pal?" Patrick asked his son, snatching the bottle and removing the pan from the heat. He had it fixed and cooled before Nathan could even think to cry.

"How do you do that?" Robin asked in awe, handing Nathan the bottle and holding it up so he could eat.

"I've had practice," Patrick replied casually, obviously not wanting to make a big deal about it.

"Come on. What's your secret?" Robin was not going to let it go. She felt like it was all she could do to keep herself standing.

"What do you think I did while you were pregnant? I spent almost everyday with Lucky, Elizabeth, and the twins." Patrick reminded her.

"You're a good daddy." Robin praised him. Nathan sucked greedily at the bottle even though he had fallen asleep.

"You're a good mommy." Patrick hugged her to him.

*****

The day had been long but at least it was over, David reasoned. It had been frustrating. Cassidy was distracted all day and spent most of the time looking at the phone or jumping when it rang. Vermin seemed to be keeping a low profile and Lulu Spencer was nowhere to be found. Those two things worried him more than he cared to admit. When people near Vermin went missing, they didn't tend to turn up. He would have asked Cassidy if he knew anything about it, but David still wasn't sure exactly what was going on between the younger officer and the blonde. Maybe Samantha could ask some questions the next time they were out in the field.

The lights were out as he entered the apartment. This was odd since he saw Samantha's car in the parking lot when he pulled in. She hadn't exactly made friends with people in the building. And if she wasn't planning on being there, she would have left him a message on his cell phone. "Samantha?" He called out into the darkness. "Samantha?"

Sam waited for David to flip the light switch and then shot up from behind the couch. "Surprise!" She had converted their tiny living area to a home for every lost balloon in the city. They were all different colors; streamers hung from every arch she had been able to find. On her head, she wore a Pink Panther paper birthday hat.

Blinking in confusion, he took a step further into the room. "What is all this?"

"Your birthday party." Sam clarified walking over to him slowly.

"My birthday..." David shook his head. "How did you even know it was my birthday?"

"I'm dating a detective." Sam rolled her eyes. "Take off your coat and stay a while."

Shrugging off his jacket, he continued to look around the room in shock. He couldn't say he had ever had a birthday party before. Or at least one that someone had put this much effort into. He doubted they had as many balloons as this. "When did you have time to do this?"

"I made time." Sam told him. "Do you want a birthday hat?"

"It's not pink is it?"

"What color do you think the Pink Panther is?"

"Then no. But it looks cute on you." He answered, teasingly tipping it down on her forehead.

"You're wearing one." Sam argued, giving him hers and running to the table to get another one. She made sure he didn't immediately notice the camera. He made a face when she took a picture. "You've got to smile."

"Not without a reason."

She thought about this a moment. "I bet I can make you smile."

"Really? What are the terms of the bet?"

"No terms at all. It's your birthday. I'll do whatever you want."

"Whatever I want?" David took a step toward her, resting his hands on her hips. "That could get interesting."

"Do you want a piece of cake?"

"What type did you get?"

"Yellow cake with chocolate frosting."

"Do I have to blow out candles?"

"Not before I sing."

"You sing?"

She poked him in the chest. "Let's get one thing straight: I don't normally sing. I can't remember the last time I did it for anybody. So if you make fun of me..."

"I wouldn't. And I'm starving. Bring on the cake."

"I have dinner too." Sam informed him. "Which do you want first?"

"Dessert." David decided. "Dessert."

"You're so transparent." Sam taunted, sliding out of his reach to cut a piece of cake.

"You have no complaints."

"No I don't, damn your over inflated ego."

Sneaking up behind her, he wrapped his arms around her waist. "Name me one time you complained."

"You're about to be covered in cake if you don't quit it."

David wiggled his eyebrows, even though she couldn't see him. "Would you clean me up afterwards?"

"I would." Sam admitted in a mock pout.

"In that case..." David reached out and made a move for the cake she had left on the table. "I think this cake would look better on you though."

"You are not going to smother me in cake." Sam assured him.

"I believe that would be my decision." David told her moving closer.

"Oh yeah? Well if you think you know what you're doing, get over here."

He reached out his arms. "Distracting me won't save you Samantha."

"Distracting you? I don't know what you could mean." Sam feigned confusion, bracing her hands against the table behind her

"You know exactly what I mean." David warned her, placing his hands on either side of hers. "Remember the reason I was late for work last week?"

"Sore throat?"

"Well that is the excuse you came up with." David lowered his face until his nose was almost touching hers. "Think harder."

"Um, sprained...ankle?"

"Now you're just pretending." David shook his head and moved his hands closer to her, grazing the sides of her hips.

"I guess you're just going to have to show me." He allowed her to get the words out before he crashed his lips into hers. She stroked her hand up his arm, the other reaching for the cake.

His hand shot out and met hers right above the cake. "Now what do you think you're doing?" He murmured against her lips.

Her fingers spider-crawled across the table. "Kissing you."

"I think you're trying to get to that cake." He contradicted, sinking his fingers into the sweet concoction.

"I think you are." Sam leaned up so that his body fit against hers more intimately.

Moving his hand out of the cake and closer to her, he pulled her closer with his free hand. "I promise I'll thoroughly clean you up."

"Sounds like a bunch of talk to me." Sam countered, swiping her finger across the top of the cake.

"Well I am a man of action." He moved his hand quickly, rubbing the icing across her neck. Lowering his head, he ran his tongue over the surface, lightly tasting the frosting. "Tastes good."

"Sweet talker." Sam took the frosting she had gotten a hold of and smeared it on the right corner of his mouth, chasing it with her lips.

He shot her a wink, shifting his lips toward hers. "I think I prefer to eat my cake this way."

"Grab the cake." Sam ordered biting his lower lip.

"I'd rather grab you." He teased. "But if you insist."

"Can't you do both?" Sam gave him a sly look. "Meet me upstairs in two minutes."

"Two minutes." He promised nipping her lip.

*****

Sam found David stretched across the bed with his hands behind his head. He looked quite smug. "Eager?" She asked, keeping her hands behind her back.

"For you? Always." He smirked.

"Now," Sam began walking to the bed. "I know this is your birthday and all..."

"I sense a but coming on."

She didn't answer him until she was on the bed straddled across his lap. "But the only way I can make sure you get everything you want..." She licked his lips seductively.

"You're doing fine so far."

She smiled and rubbed her hands up his sides so that his arms rose up. Before he could stop her, she tied his left wrist to the bedpost. "Is to have you at my mercy."

"Trust me Samantha. I'm always at your mercy." David told her as she secured his right wrist in the same manner.

"Really?" She sunk into him, her eyes closing as the movement sent sensations skyrocketing through her.

"Yes."

"That is so sweet." She kissed his neck, leaving a trail with her lips until she reached his shirt. "How attached are you to this shirt?"

"Not very."

"Good." Sam leaned over him and pulled the drawer next to the bed open. She dug through the contents until she found a pair of scissors. "Stay very still."

"I never argue with an armed woman." David assured her as she brought the scissors closer.

The scissors cut through the material easily but not quietly. Maybe it was because that was the only noise currently. She sliced a pocket sized cut in the fabric and then ripped the shirt apart. "Much better." She appraised, returning the scissors to the drawer and continuing her assault on his neck.

"Of course now you look overdressed." David pointed out, his eyes closing briefly as her lips teased his skin.

"Do I?" Sam looked down at her clothing. "What would you suggest I lose first?"

"I think a shirt for a shirt is fair. Don't you?"

"You're the boss." Sam reminded him, stripping off the shirt.

"Much better." David approved.

"I'm glad you like it." Sam whispered, leaning over to kiss him. He struggled against the bindings as the kiss went on and on. She groaned when with just a shift of his body, he managed to find the most intimate way to touch her. She sat up, looking perplexed.

"What's wrong?" David asked.

"I'm debating."

"On?"

"I really like the idea of you tied up, but I don't know if I can go much longer without your hands on me."

David arched an eyebrow. "We could always switch positions if you want."

Sam grinned. "Well it is your birthday."