DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CSI:NY OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS. I DO HOWEVER OWN SAMANTHA FLACK AND ALL THE CRAZY FLACK KIDS.

WARNING: THIS CHAPTER IS RATED M FOR SMUT AND SMUT RELATED CONVERSATIONS. IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE, SKIP AHEAD A COUPLE OF SECTIONS. IF NOT, ENJOY!

A Little Mommy and Daddy Time

"If tomorrow is judgment day
And I'm standing on the front line
And the Lord asks me what I did with my life
I will say I spent it with you

If I wake up in World War III
I see destruction and poverty
And I feel like I want to go home
It's okay if you're coming with me

'Cause your love is my love
And my love is your love
It would take an eternity to break us
And the chains of Amistad couldn't hold us

If I lose my fame and fortune
And I'm homeless on the street
And I'm sleeping in Grand Central Station
It's okay if you're sleeping with me

As the years they pass us by
We stay young through each others eyes
And no matter how old we get
It's okay as long as I got you baby."
-My Love is Your Love, Whitney Houston

Men and women alike had feared those words for years. We need to talk. Or any variation of the sort. In fact, Sam had used those words many a time herself. Each time -following Kieran- that she had found out she was pregnant, and once when she, out of sheer stupidity and foolish female pride, had asked for a trial separation just after Mikayla's first birthday. She was tired and stressed from being home alone so much with five kids. She was lonely and felt like little more than a cook, maid and occasional sex partner. She had had enough, she'd said. And felt that the best thing, for both of them, was to be apart for a while. Re-discover who they were as individuals and hopefully realize that what they had was worth fighting for.

It had only lasted seven months. But it had been the longest seven months of both of their lives and their children's. Flack had gone back to stay with his parents while letting Sam and his children stay in the house, her mom flying in from Arizona to lend a hand with things. It had been extremely difficult and heart wrenching for both of them. Mac had been pretty good about the work thing. Trying his best to keep them off of the same cases. But it was inevitable that they would run into each other at some point in time. And each meeting had been awkward and painful.

It had killed Flack to only see his kids every other weekend. Sam had said he could come around whenever he wanted. It was his house after all. And they were his children and neither of them were taking legal action to dissolve their marriage. It was just a temporary thing and she wasn't going to keep him from his kids. He had stayed away because he just couldn't handle seeing her when he came to pick the kids up for their weekend. She seemed as if she was getting along just fine without him. She was smiling and looked happy and healthy and it killed him to think that she was better off with him not around.

It was hard enough when she answered the phone when he called every night to hear about the kids' respective days and to say goodnight and tell them that he loved them. They were young, so thankfully spared the pain of what was happening between their parents. But Kieran was old enough to realize that mommy and daddy weren't getting along and that daddy hadn't been home in a really long time. He didn't understand why his dad just couldn't come home and be with all of them again. And he cried each time Flack dropped him and his siblings off after their visit and clung to his dad's legs and sobbed uncontrollably and begged his dad to come and live with them again.

Flack had no explanation to why he couldn't come home. And he certainly wasn't going to bad mouth his wife to his son. The fact was, he still loved her and she still loved him, but they just couldn't seem to get along anymore. Finally, four months into it, he'd called her, three sheets to the wind after falling off the wagon yet again, and begged her to let him come home. There was nothing he wouldn't do to keep their family together. She suggested counselling. They'd been it before. When she was pregnant with Kieran, and it had done their relationship wonders. Maybe it would work once again.

The sessions had been raw and emotional. Painful. He had no idea that she felt trapped. That she loved him and all their children but she felt trapped in her life. With each child they had, the more and more controlling and possessive Flack had become without even realizing it. He had told her to cut down to part time hours so she was home more with the kids. It wasn't an option. It was his way or the highway. He kept tabs on how much money she spent and who she hung around with and talked to. He had said it was to protect his kids, but when he thought about it in that therapist's office, he'd realized he'd done it to protect himself. Because the more she was home and confined to just taking care of their children, the less he had to worry about her meeting someone and leaving him. His old insecurities creeping up again.

They'd gone out on a date at the end of their block of sessions. They'd been seeing the therapist for nearly three months and there'd be no move in either direction. No request from a divorce from either of them, yet no suggestion of him moving back in and them giving their marriage another try. Carmen had called him up and said to try taking Sam out. As if the two of them were just hooking up for the first time all over again. He'd been sceptical that Sam would go for it, and overjoyed when she'd agreed. And even more so, that when he picked her up, flowers in hand, she'd smiled and kissed him softly and told him how handsome he looked. And how much she had missed him.

They'd made love that night. For the first time in nearly a year. The kids were at Carmen and Speed's and they'd gone home and made love in the bed where they had shared many a sleepless, pleasured filled night in the past seven years. It had been like re-discovering each other again. Hands and mouths exploring each others bodies. Tasting and feeling things they hadn't in so long. Taking their time and pleasuring each other beyond anything they had ever experienced before. And afterwards, as they lay together, their breathing ragged and their bodies and sheets drenched in sweat and their limbs entangled, she'd cried and told him she loved him and their life and begged him not to leave. To just stay there forever.

And he planned to.

So why did 'Me and you have to talk' terrify her as much as it did?

She wasn't sure how long she had stared at her husband after those words had escaped his lips, but it wasn't until Flack had reached over and gently tapped a finger tip against the tip of her nose that she finally broke out of the daze she'd fallen into.

"You with me?" he asked.

"Yeah…I'm with you…but what is that suppose to mean?"

"What?"

"Me and you have to talk. What does that mean?"

"Exactly what it's suppose to. That me and you need to talk."

"I don't like it when you say that, Donnie," she said, and found that tears welled in her eyes and her chest ached. "It's never good when any of us say that."

"What?" he asked, studying her face with his concern in his eyes. "Why are you crying?"

"I'm not…I…"

She suddenly was filled with the urge to just get away. From her own husband and what she knew was going to come out of his mouth. It wasn't going to be good. She could just feel it. He was going to tell her something dreadful and awful that would rip her apart inside. That he'd met someone that could give him more than a wife and six unruly kids could. Probably someone much younger with a Play Boy bunny body and a single digit IQ. That had been the type he'd been into before they ever met and some men couldn't resist going back to an old lifestyle when they hit middle age.

It was a mid life crisis. She was sure of it. Because if he was in his right mind there'd be no talk of another woman and moving on with a new life. Maybe even divorce. He just wasn't like that. He always vowed he was in things for the long haul and would never hurt her or their brood.

She was sure that was what he was going to say. He had met someone else and wanted a different life. One that didn't include a massive mortgage and half a dozen children to feed and clothe and college tuition's to plan for. It was damn scary. It horrified her to think about it most days. And she would completely understand if he just needed something, and someone, a little simpler. In all sense of the word.

"I can't talk about this right now," Sam said, dropping her lap top on mattress beside her and slipping off of the bed.

"Talk about what?" he asked, utterly confused. "I didn't say anything. All I said was.."

"You don't need to say anything, Don," she cut him off. "You've said enough."

What in the hell, he thought, watching as she went into their walk in closet and re-emerged moments later pulling on a pair of well worn jeans and a simple tank top.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"I need to go for a walk. I need some air."

He checked the bedside clock. "It's nearly eleven. You need to go for a walk now? I don't want you go out for a walk by yourself at this time of the night. Are you crazy?"

"I'll take Maximus with me. He's an old police dog. He's used to attacking people in his previous life."

"Why don't you just come back to bed and tell me why you're freaking out like this," Flack suggested.

"I'll just go and sit in the backyard for a bit," she said. "Get some air. Prepare myself for what you're going to say."

"What I'm going to say? What do you think that is?"

"You know."

"No. I don't. If you ask me you're flipping out for no reason. This is like an episode of the Twilight Zone. Nothing is making sense here. What is if you think I'm going to say to you?"

"What most men say when they're having a mid life crisis and tired of their wives and the life they have. How you've met someone else and want a new life with them. Probably someone really young with blond hair and legs that go up to her ears and huge boobs and no brains. Who doesn't want six kids in the picture so you'll cut your losses and leave them all with me."

"What?" he couldn't help but laugh. "Oh my God. You can't be serious. You actually think that…"

"It's okay, Don. 'Cause I'll be fine. You'll be coughing up half your pension to me and paying through the ass for all of your kids. Especially when Kieran and Reghan and Alannah go to college. And don't even think you're going to get the house. Because I'll stay here just to spite you so you won't get half in the divorce."

"The divorce?" he laughed even harder this time. "Jesus Christ, Samantha. You're talking crazy shit."

"I already got the best of you anyway," she told him. "All your younger, virile years. She can have you when all you have left is some fancy sports car you'll no doubt buy and enough prescriptions for Viagra to see you through until the day you die."

"You are so overreacting," Flack said. "You are way off base. I can't believe you think I've met someone else. I don't want anyone else. I only want you. I've always only wanted you."

"It's okay, Don. I understand," she said, and made for the door.

He finally realized she was dead serious about walking out and was off the bed and blocking her way before she could get a chance to even got a hand on the door knob.

"You're serious, aren't you." It was more of a statement than a question. "You really think that's what I was going to say?"

"Wasn't it?" she asked, as tears trickled down her pale, smooth cheeks.

"Jesus Christ, no. All I was going to say is that we need to talk about that whole trip thing you mentioned in the car."

"That's it?" she asked, seeing the sincerity in his blue eyes and suddenly feeling like a complete and utter ass.

"That's it," he assured her, laying one hand on her hip and using the fingertips of the other to tenderly brush away her tears.

She sniffled noisily. "Oh," she said. Than smiled sheepishly. "Ooops."

He grinned.

"I think I may have overreacted."

"Just a bit," he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"I'm sorry. You just looked and sounded so serious and I went into defensive mode. It's my hormones, you know. My period bailed on me two months ago and I keep having those damn hot flashes and I can't sleep properly most nights and now I'm having that problem, you know, intimacy wise, and I…"

He kissed her softly. "It's okay," he assured her. "I know you've been a bit, what's the word…off lately."

She nodded in agreement and laid her forehead against his chest.

"Can we go back to bed?" he asked, softly kissing the back of her neck. He liked the easy access to that extra sensitive spot. Maybe there was a positive side to her new haircut after all. "You can give me a chance to finish what I was going to say?"

"I'm sorry," she said, and stepped away from him and went back to the rumpled bed. "I shouldn't have overreacted like that."

"It's okay," he assured her, moving to the bed as well and tidying up her thing. Shuffling papers together and slipping them into respective folders and saving her work on the lap top before shutting it down and closing the lid.

"I really needed to work on that," Sam said, climbing into the middle of the bed.

"Tomorrow's another day," Flack reminded her and sat all of her things on the window seat before joining her on the mass of wrinkled sheets. "I can't believe you actually thought I was going to say I had met someone else and I was leaving. And that whole part of paying out of my ass for all of the kids and how you got my younger, more virile years? Classic."

She frowned. "I said I was sorry," she mumbled.

"All I was going to tell you was that I thought about you saying that you wanted to go away. Just the two of us. And I know for a fact that Scagnetti wouldn't have a problem giving me some time off. As long as it's only for a few days and not a whole week or two. We couldn't go very far both for lack of money and time, but we could always go down to Boston or Washington DC or somewhere like that. Spend some time together. Some alone time."

She smiled. "I'd really like that, Donnie," she said.

"We'd have to give it a few weeks because things are a bit crazy around the department right now and you said yourself you've got all that paper work for those immigrants and what not. And Kieran has his hockey and he'd kill us if we missed playoffs. Especially if they get to the championships. So it's not like we could go right away. Maybe in a month or two. Before the kids get out of school for the summer and all the craziness begins around here. Is that okay? Gives us some time to get things under control and put in requests for time off at work?"

"It's more than okay," she said, and circled his neck with her arms and kissed him. Her tongue wasting no time in pushing its way between his lips and teeth and into his warm, moist mouth. Her one hand moving to the back of his head, her fingers entwining in his short hair.

It had been a while since she'd kissed him like that. Usually he was the one initiating things. Despite sixteen years of marriage and six kids and a more than satisfying sex life, she was still relatively shy about telling him exactly what she wanted. At the beginning of their relationship, after she'd gotten used to him, she'd been more relaxed and open about sex. But as each kid came along, her self confidence became to wane. And things really tanked when menopause began to set in a little more than a month ago. That was when the intimacy issues really escalated.

At first it was difficulty reaching orgasm. That had never, ever been a problem for her. Sometimes he had to do very little and she was already teetering on the edge. Multiple and g-spot orgasms were a common thing. And suddenly, after sixteen years and extensive knowledge on what got his wife off, Flack literally hit a brick wall. A half an hour of foreplay and no result? Half an hour usually guaranteed at least three, if not climaxes. Now nothing. And the most frustrated she got, the less relaxed was she and soon she was pushing his head away from her and rolling onto her stomach and completely shutting down on him.

They chalked it up to stress at work. She had a huge work load and a new team and couldn't seem to think about anything else but. He couldn't help but be slightly offended and feel like he couldn't get the job done. A couple of weeks later, she shook him awake at three in the morning and announced she thought she was ready. And needed it. Now. Who was he to turn down such a request. The lingering problem was solved in less than ten minutes and since than, had never returned.

Than a month ago, the woman who once claimed her husband could make her wet just by looking at her a certain way, suddenly could not get lubricated naturally. Flack felt like a complete and utter failure. It was frustrating as hell and he all but accused her of not being into him in that way anymore. She explained it was her hormones.

Their previous issues, her lack of a period for two months, mood swings and now personal dryness, were all signs of menopause. It was the first time she had ever mentioned the change of life to him, and Flack had to admit, he knew nothing about it. But the internet was a very usual tool and he turned to it to better understand his wife.

She was embarrassed as hell and didn't want to talk anymore about it or even attempt sex again. It was way too painful and she would hear nothing about going to a drug store to pick up lubricant. She thought it was only for people that had issues. He told her they did have issues and to stop being so damn embarrassed and ashamed about personal issues with him. He was her husband. Not some stranger off the street. Three more weeks went by before she'd let him anywhere near her.

Than three days ago, Carmen had gone up to her office and sat a beautifully wrapped gift on Sam's desk with a very strict, 'Use the damn stuff', before walking out. Having experience her own issues, Carmen had used personal experience and bought her best friend a KY 2 and 1 gift set. Flack had never been so ecstatic or loved Carmen more than he did when Sam showed him it later that night.

Only they hadn't gotten to delve into it yet. Long work hours and stress at home had all but zapped their libidos. That morning they'd had a little bit of fun that he'd been hopeful would be carried on into the night time.

And so far, things looked promising as he pushed his wife onto her back in the middle of their bed. Propped on one arm as his lips and tongue and teeth finding her ear and than her neck as his free hand pushed up her tank top. He lifted his head and grinned down at her as his hand softly fondled her breasts, the nipples hardening to his touch.

"You were going to go out with no bra on?" he asked. "Walking around this neighbourhood? Woulda gave all the old guys out for their nightly strolls heart attacks."

"It was the last thing on my mind," she said, than moaned loudly when he lightly pinched a nipple.

He pushed the top right up to her neck and she lifted her head as he stripped the flimsy fabric over her head and tossed it aside. He captured her lips with his once more, pressing her back into the bed as his hand stroked and caressed her full, luscious breasts and than slid down her flat stomach to the waist of her jeans. Snapping open the button and sliding down the zipper as he leaned down and flicked and swirled his tongue over her rock hard nipple. Taking it into his mouth and sucking firmly at the same moment his hand slid down the front of her pants and he slipped two fingers inside of her warm body.

She moaned louder than before and arched against his hand, her finger nails digging into his scalp.

His mouth released her nipple and he trailed his lips and his tongue along the space between her breasts and lower. Over that faint scar she still possessed from the c-section to bring Liam into the world. She had had the surgery to deliver the triplets safely, and afterwards, the doctor suggested using the same incision line to deliver Mikayla and Liam. The triplets had weakened her uterus and made normal vaginal delivery a risky option.

She shuddered at the sensation of his tongue tracing along the scar. Her hands were on his shoulders, encouraging him to go even lower. Sixteen years and she'd never tired of it. And he never tired of obliging her and pleasing her. His hands yanked down the jeans and he sat back on his heels to pull them down her slender legs and over her ankles and feet. Dropping them over the side of the bed.

"No underwear either?" he asked, slightly amused and completely turned on.

"Don…you know I love you, right?"

He nodded and ran his hands from her ankles and over her calves and to the inside of her milky thighs. Gently pushing her legs open and pressing a kiss to the inside of both knees.

"Than can you do me a favour? Stop talking and asking me questions and just get to work."

"Yes, m'am," he said and bowed his head to softly nip along her thigh before settling himself between her legs. "By the way," he grabbed her foot and moved it between his legs, so she could press her toes into the impressive erection that awaited her. "I will never, ever need Viagra."

She giggled loudly and dug her foot into his groin.

The mixture of pleasure and pain causing him to groan loudly before burying his face in her warm, sweet body.

Samantha cried out at the sensation of his tongue swirling over her throbbing clit. After sixteen years of wonderful, exquisite love making and foreplay, he didn't need to be told or prodded. He knew exactly what to do and how to do it and was, and had always been, an expert at it. Alternating between long, slow licks and fast, hard motions and than pressing his tongue deep inside. Than using saliva and the small amount of vaginal fluid she had managed to produce to gently insert three fingers inside of her. Curving them slightly to find, and rub, that extremely sensitive spot that always caused her to becoming completely and unabashedly unhinged.

Tonight was no exception. The four glasses of wine she had consumed had acted like an aphrodisiac and had put her nerves on edge. And before long, she was grabbing a pillow and smothering her own face to stifle the ear splitting scream that erupted from her. Her back arching off the bed and her hands painfully gripping his hair.

It was futile to resist or fight. Flack had long ago accepted pain as a by product of sex with her. If she wasn't pulling his hair, she was leaving bloody gouge marks across his back. And if she wasn't doing that, she was sinking her teeth into the space between his neck and shoulder. He had more battle wounds from her than he did in all his years with the NYPD.

When her muffled noises had subsided and her body ceased trembling and contracting, he removed his fingers slowly and gently and pushed himself up onto his knees. Flack moved up his wife's body. Her skin glistened with perspiration and she hadn't even worked that hard. It was good for the ego. He grabbed the pillow and tossed it aside. Her eyes were closed and she was panting.

He kissed her softly.

She opened her eyes and smiled dreamily at him.

"You're very welcome," he said, kissing her again and than leaning over the bed and opening the top drawer on the night stand.

"You have just been dying to use that stuff, haven't you," Sam said.

"You have no idea," he said and frowned when she slipped off the bed. "Where are you going?" he asked.

"I have to pee," she replied.

It was nothing new. He'd been dealing with her necessity to empty her bladder immediately after an orgasm for sixteen years now. But when she returned five minutes later carrying his bath towel, he frowned.

"What's that for?" he asked, already shedding his t-shirt and boxers.

"Those are brand new sheets," she replied, grabbing Maximus by his collar and opening the bedroom door and pushing him out into the hall.

She picked up Cujo and placed him out there as well. She would not, and could not, have sex with them in the room. And they'd find a warm, cozy bed to sleep in with one of the kids.

She shut and locked the bedroom door. "I paid a lot of money for them and I don't want anything getting on them."

"Are you telling me we're getting ready to do the nasty for the first time in a month and a half and all you're thinking about it the new sheets? I didn't even know they were new."

"You're so very astute, Don," she said and laid the towel over the sheets.

"Guys don't notice shit like that. But I will say, that looking at them, they are very nice sheets."

"Egyptian cotton," she told him. "I paid three hundred for them. And that was on sale."

"Come again?" he asked. "Because I would have sworn you said you paid three hundred for sheets."

"I did," she responded, and climbing on the bed, crawled over to him as he stood at the foot of the bed. She reached out and softly stroked his cock. "And I would very much like to come again. Please and thank you," she licked her lips and made to go down on him.

"Forget that," he said, and grabbed her by the wrists and pushed her onto her back.

She scooted into the middle of the bed and lay down on the towel.

He snapped open the top of the small plastic bottle in his hand and squeezed a generous amount of lubrication into his palm. And he had just applied it to his aching cock and came down to kiss her, prepared to enter her, when he suddenly pulled back and frowned, looking down in between them.

"What?" Sam asked.

"Do you smell that?" he responded with a question of his own.

She sniffed the air. "Mint," she said. "So?"

"This stuff smells like mint. Why the hell does it smell like mint? And why is my dick tingling? Don't tell me I've got an allergic reaction and it's going to shrivel up and fall off. I swear to God woman, if I lose my most prized possession because of your menopause…."

"Where's the bottle?" she asked.

Flack reached blindly behind him and scooped it up and handed it to her.

Sam squinted to read the label. "You moron," she said and laughed. "It's mint scented, tingling lubricant. Meant to enhance sexual pleasure."

"So it's suppose to smell like that and do that?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied and tossed the bottle aside. "Now put it to good use already."

"I love it when you go all bossy and aggressive and assertive on me," he said.

She raised her head to kiss him. And sank her teeth into his bottom lip.

"Fuck woman!" he nearly shrieked. "You're damn vicious."

She smiled and traced his lips with her tongue.

He kissed her savagely and grabbed a hold of her leg and drew it up and over his hip and eased into her slowly. Filling her completely and easily. The sensation of being inside of her was incredible. Mixed in with the tingling from the lubrication, the feeling was intense and he knew that he wouldn't last long. A month and a half had done a number on him and he felt like a horny high schooler getting his rocks off for the first time. No self control whatsoever.

She circled his waist with her legs, pulling him in deeper. Her eyes closed and her head tilted back.

He licked and kissed at the hallow of her throat. "Not gonna last long," he told her through gritted teeth, already holding back on her.

"It's okay," she assured him. "I didn't expect you to."

He reached between them to find her clit. Rubbing it vigorously before she came a second time that evening. Biting down on his shoulder and scraping her nails across his back as intense pleasure shot through her. The contracting of her inner muscles sending him over the edge as well. Burying his face in her shoulder as he moaned her name and spent himself inside of her warm, welcoming body.

For several long minutes neither of them moved. Their breathing ragged and their hearts pounding as they fought to compose themselves. Eventually he raised his head and kissed her softly.

"You're amazing," he told her, and she reached up to wipe sweat from his brow with her finger tips. "You always have been."

She smiled and kissed him long and soft and pulled him back down on top of her. He pulled out of her and rolled onto his side and they lay, limbs tangled and bodies drenched in sweat for what seemed like an eternity. The gentle, cool breeze drifting in from the open bedroom window tickling their skin.

Flack moved first. Pressing a kiss to her temple before slipping out of bed and heading for the bathroom. A short time passed before he came back into the bedroom carrying a night gown for her and a warm, damp face cloth. He climbed back into his clothes and watched her as she lay contently and wholly satisfied and naked in their bed. She was beautiful. Almost sixteen years from the day he'd met her, he'd never seen someone as beautiful and amazing as her. And the day she became his wife and the mother of his child, she became even more so.

He joined her on the bed. Used the face cloth to gently and lovingly clean the lubrication off of her. Than used a clean part of the towel to dry her. She sat up and kissed him in appreciation and he handed her the night gown.

"I'm exhausted," she declared, shrugging into the pyjamas before collapsing onto her back.

"Yeah? Well mind blowing sex will do that to you," he said with a grin. "I'm going out for a smoke."

"I'm used to it by now," she said with a yawn. "And there's all kinds of food in the fridge. 'Cause I just know you're dying to eat something."

He smiled. "You know me so well," he said, and leaned over to kiss her. "I love you," he told her.

"I love you, too," she said, and rolled over onto her side. "Turn the light and the tv off?" she asked. "And remember to lock the patio door and check the front one and set the alarm?"

"I am an old pro at the whole domestic crap," he assured her and climbed off the bed. He flicked off the television and set the converter on the nightstand and than went and turned off the bedside lamp. He pulled the towel out from underneath her. Dropping it in the laundry hamper before covering her up with the thick duvet that had fallen to the floor during all their strenuous activity.

He ran a hand over her hair and kissed the top of her head. She was already drifting off to sleep. A soft smile on her lips. He stood over her, protectively, and waited until she fell asleep. The moonlight that streamed through the window illuminating her smooth skin. She looked like an angel. Precious and pure and innocent.

He thanked God every day for the day she was born. And prayed for many more years with her.

Starting bright and early at seven each weekday morning, the Flack house was a scene of utter chaos. The noise and activity level nearly unbearable as six kids battled each other for the use of two bathrooms (mom and dad's made three, but no one under any circumstances was allowed to use it except for mom and dad) and fought and argued with each other over anything and everything under the sun. If it wasn't Alannah battering Reghan with a pillow to wake her up and than physically dragging her sister out of bed -which in turn always caused an all our hair pulling, nail scratching fight on the bedroom floor- it was Sam threatening to douse both Liam and Declan with a bucket of cold water if they didn't get up and get their butts in gear. By seven thirty, five out of six kids were dressed and at the breakfast table. Feeding a large brood of sometimes exceptionally picky eaters had always been a challenge. The older kids were just happy with a some cereal and toast or tossing a few Eggo's into the toaster. Kieran, Alannah and Declan were like their father. They'd eat just about anything. Whereas Liam, Mikayla and Reghan would turn their noses up at suggestions and refuse to eat something if the appearance didn't appeal to them.

Liam had gone through a stage a year ago where the only thing he'd eat in the morning was scrambled eggs or pancakes and the only thing he wanted for supper was spaghetti with butter and ketchup on it. It had gotten to the point that Sam found herself often preparing three or four separate dishes a night to appease everyone. Before Flack put his foot down and told the kids they had three options. Eat whatever was on your plate, go to bed hungry, or make your own damn food. That had solved the majority of the meal time issues. The only problems that still remained was the excessively high grocery bill and the mystery to why the fridge and freezer seemed to empty out so quick. Although someone by the name of Kieran seemed to be the culprit behind that.

The noise around the table as each kid chattered about the day that lay ahead of them and the dinner that they had gone to the night before was nearly deafening. Short of leaving the room to find peace and quiet from the bickering Alannah and Reghan seemed permanently embroiled in and Liam, still so tiny that he had to kneel on his chair to reach the table to eat properly, screaming to be heard over everyone, Sam found some solace by standing at the kitchen island across the room. Drinking a cup of tea while keeping an eye on everyone and going through yesterday's mail that she'd brought down from the bedroom that morning.

Today was a work from home day. She was allotted two a week and unless she was desperately needed in the office, spent those two days holed up in front of the computer in the den and buried nose deep in government files. With the interrogation of the ship's captain handed over to federal interrogators and the DEA in charge of the drugs that had been siezed, her main concern now was going through the applications for asylum that the surviving immigrants had issue late yesterday afternoon. And that was sheer hellish paperwork that could be handled from the comforts of home.

She ripped open the envelope from the hydro company and pulled out the bill. Eyes widening at the amount due at the bottom of the page. She dreaded the thought of tackling the gas and water bill. Not to mention Kieran's and Reghan and Alannah's cell phones. All three were addicted to text messaging. To the point their parents had already taken the phones away on more than one occasion.

"Hey," Flack said gruffly to his kids as he wandered into the kitchen, dropping a grey suit jacket on an empty chair. "You guys mind keeping it down a bit? Someone people in this hemisphere are still sleeping."

"Dad, tell Reghan that it is not okay to be French kissing a boy at our age," Alannah implored.

"Who French kissed who?" Flack asked, frowning.

"Reghan and Aiden were kissing last night," Liam chirped. "Gross."

"You weren't supposed to tattle, twerp!" Reghan hissed and leaned across the table to slap her little brother upside the head. Liam backed away, dug his spoon into his cheerios and proceeded to toss milk and soggy cereal across the table and into his startled sister's face.

Flack struggled not to burst out laughing and it was a feat keeping a straight face while scolding his youngest and watching his furious daughter bolt up from the table and lunge for the roll of paper towles on the counter.

"For God sakes, Reghan," Sam said, barely glancing up from the mail as her daughter scrubbed furiously at her face. "It's only cheerios and milk. They won't scald and scar for life."

"And do me a favor," Flack said. "Roll your kilt down so it actually covers your ass."

"All the girls wear their kilts like this," Reghan informed him. "Get with it dad."

"Don't talk to your father like that," Sam said sternly. "And he's right. Roll it down. There's no need to wear it that short."

"I've got shorts on," Reghan argued.

"Roll it down," Flack said.

"But dad…"

"Now," he ordered. The tone of his voice and the look in his eyes bearing testament to the fact that he wasn't screwing around.

The thirteen year old sighed heavily, finished cleaning and drying her face and reluctantly reached under her untucked white blouse and rolled down the waist on her navy, green and white plaid kilt. Girls were also allowed to wear navy pants and cardigan sweaters in the colder weather. Boys were navy dress pants, black shoes and either white dress shirts or white polo shirts. All emblazoned on the front pocket with the school's initials. The same high school Flack had once attended. Across from which was the elementary school he and all of his kids had gone, or were going, through.

"Where's Kieran?" Sam asked, as her husband stepped behind her, purposefully brushing his mid section against her ass. The simple contact causing her to blush furiously after their activities the evening before. And that very morning a mere two hours ago.

"Making himself look good for all the women," Flack replied, kissing her cheek before pouring himself a cup of coffee from the freshly brewed pot on the counter.

"Definitely your son," Sam commented.

"He got all the good traits from me," he said, and leaning against the counter she stood up, grinned and winked at her. He couldn't keep that grin off of his face. The look who just got his brains fucked out grin, Sam always had called it.

"I think not," Sam snorted and took a bite from the toast and peanut butter on the plate beside her.

"You're not going in today?" Flack asked, taking in her slipper clad feet and her terry cloth bathrobe.

"I had to switch my at home days because I need to go in Friday to get ready for that trail on Monday," Sam responded. "I told you all of this. I plan on getting as many of those applications done as possible. And some of the laundry and house work. I know I've been lax on all that stuff lately. But for the most part, I plan on staying in my jammies all day."

"All day?" he asked, arching an eyebrow.

She nodded.

"In that case, I should call in sick," Flack said, in a voice just low enough for her to hear. "All the kids are out of the house until the afternoon. We could have fun in whatever place we want, you can make as much noise as you want. When's the last time you could scream and moan like a porn star?"

"Hmmm…" she thought about it. "Before Kieran was born."

"Exactly. If I stay home, we can make up for a lot of lost time. Lots of that stuff left that Carmen gave us."

Sam grinned. "Now that would be a hell of a nice way to spend the day."

"Yes," he said and leaned sideways to kiss her. "It would."

"You're late," Sam said to her oldest as he entered the kitchen. "Your breakfast is getting nasty."

"You know how it is, mom," Kieran commented. "It's hard to be this beautiful."

Liam glanced over at his oldest brother and opened his mouth to say something. Instead of words tumbling out of his mouth, his eyes went wide at the sight of Kieran with no hair and than he suddenly let out a blood curdling scream and dove under the table.

"Liam!" Reghan shrieked, directing a kick in his direction. "What is your problem?"

"No!" her little brother was wailing under the table, rocking back and forth. "Not Kieran! No!"

"It's my hair," Kieran concluded. "He's always known me with hair. Maybe it scares him because all of a sudden I look like a completely different person. Come here, Liam," he crouched down alongside the table and held out a hand. "It's still me. I just shaved my head. I'm still your big brother. I'm still Kieran."

Liam shook his head energetically.

"I swear it's me pee-wee," Kieran said.

"Prove it," Liam demanded.

Kieran reached for a glass of orange juice that sat on the table and drank it in one gulp. Than waited half a minute before letting out a massive, rib shaking belch that grossed every woman in the room out, impressed the guys and brought a broad smile to Liam's face.

"I told you it was me," Kieran said and helped his little brother out from under the table. Picking Liam up effortlessly under the arms, he sat the soon to be seven year old back in his seat. "Now eat your breakfast before you give mom a heart attack and dad even more grey hair."

"You look like that Edward Norton guy in American History X," Alannah complained as her big brother slid onto the breakfast bench beside her.

"Means I'm damn fine than," Kieran said, reaching across the table to snag a piece of toast from a plate in the middle. "'Cause I heard he was hugely popular with the females when he was the it thing."

"And how'd you see that movie in the first place?" Flack asked. "I remember seeing that and it was pretty damn brutal. How'd you ever see it?"

"I will never give up my sources, dad," his daughter replied. "Do you ever give up one of your confidential informants?"

"You watch too many cop shows," Flack told her.

"No. My parents just happen to both be cops and all my aunts and uncles. I do hear you guys talking."

"Next time, plug your eyes. And your mom isn't a cop anymore. She's a Fed. The bane of the NYPD."

"Deal with it, dad," Kieran said, digging into his bowl of soggy frosted cheerios. A favorite of his since was just a little boy and his dad used to place the dry ones on his high chair tray. And Declan had mastered the pincer grasp because of cheerios. By eight months, he was already able to pick up the small, dry rings between his thumb and forefinger and place them successfully in his mouth. Farther ahead than most Down Syndrome kids. Too bad he couldn't be that quick to learn in other things.

Declan jumped to his feet, gathered up his dirty dishes and sat them obediently in the sink. "Hi d-d-dad," he said, and turned his face up for a kiss.

"Hey, buddy," Flack pressed a kiss to his son's forehead. "What do you think of Kieran's hair? Want me to take ya in the basement and shave your hair all of just like that?"

"Yeah!" Declain exclaimed happily. "All bald!"

"I think not," Sam said.

"C-c-come on, mom. It cool," Delcan declared and ran back to the table and vigorously rubbed both hands over his older brother's head. "Feel cool, K," he said, and than gave his brother an enthusiastic two thumbs up.

"I'll do it for you when I get back from shopping with dad this afternoon," Kieran said, chuckling as his brother repeatedly massaged his newly shorn head. "I'll get the clippers and buzz ya clean off."

"Pwomise?" Declan asked, eyes glittering in anticipation.

"Promise," Kieran replied, and was rewarded with a noisy, sloppy kiss on the cheek before Declan took off into the living room and bounded up the stairs.

"What a freak," Alannah mumbled.

Kieran tossed a piece of toast at his sister and glared at her angrily. "Don't talk about my brother like that," he said. "I'm not scared to take you out back and lay the beats on you. Ask me, you're the freak and the retard in this family."

"Screw you, Kieran," Alannah snapped back and chucked the toast at him.

"Hey!" Sam yelled. "Enough! Both of you! You don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all! Now both of you shut it and eat!"

"Mommy told you guys," Mikayla said. "And that's mean Alannah. Saying that about Declan. Not his fault he's like that."

"Probably mom or dad's," Alannah murmured.

"Want me to take her outside and beat her dad?" Kieran asked. "'Cause I will. You know that's not how it happened, Alannah. Mom and dad didn't make Declan like that. It just happened right when he was conceived. What happened to make you the way you are? Mom drop you on your head?"

"Jesus," Sam said with a heavy sigh, as her children began fighting once again. "We really need that vacation, Don. Although you might change your mind when you see the hydro and the water bill," she held them both out to him.

He took a sip of coffee and swallowed and sat the mug down on the counter. Taking the bills from her, he studied the top one first. Electricity. It was in the low three hundreds. Less than he had anticipated. But the water bill, closer to five, was the one that widened his eyes and nearly gave him chest pains.

"Cell phone bills for the kids also came," Sam said, slapping another set up papers in his hands. "It's actually impressive how much they've cut back on the text messaging. MasterCard and cable also came," she dropped more papers into his grasp. "And that letter from the school board? Just what I said. His funding is being cut. Drastically. Full time EA only twice a week and part time the rest. And less hours in the special ed room."

"That's a bunch of crap," Kieran commented, overhearing.

"I am telling you, Sam," Flack said, as he skimmed through the bills. "We need to seriously consider sending him somewhere else. 'Cause that's a load of shit. Can we appeal like we did the last time this happened?"

"We can try," she told him with a sigh. "We'll probably have to have a meeting with the principal and the trustee."

"Can I come, mom?" Kieran asked. "I can tune them up?"

"You hang around your Uncle Danny way too much," Flack told his son. "We can't let this just go by, Sam," he said to his wife. "Things will come to a complete standstill learning wise if we just let the board screw us like this. If they can't accommodate him, we send him somewhere else. Plain and simple."

"I think that's something we need to sit down and discuss," she said, moving to the sink to rinse her cup before setting it in the dishwasher. "Not just come to a hasty decision."

"Kinda like your son deciding to shave his head with dog clippers?" Flack teased. "And Kieran, you don't stop taking so many showers, I won't have any money left to pay any of the other bills and you'll be hosing yourself down in the backyard."

The door bell rang. The chime sounding throughout the entire house. Had it been later in the day, especially on the weekend, the front door would have been wide open and the screen door unlocked allowing all of the kids' friends and their parents to just walk right in.

"Got it!" Declan called out and they heard him racing for the front door. "Mom! Dad!" he bellowed after a couple of minutes. "Company!"

"Hi Aunt Sam!" Chelsea, Mac and Stella's eleven year old daughter, petite and bubbly with her father's hair and eyes, greeted cheerfully as she came into the kitchen, followed close behind by her thirteen year old sister Tiana.

Tiana was all legs and curls and porcelain skin and oozed confidence. In other words, she was Stella from head to toe. With more attitude tossed in the mix. She attended the same high school as Kieran and the triplets and Addie and Aiden. While Chlelsea did her time at the same primary school as the little ones.

"Hey, Uncle Don," Chelsea stood on her tip toes and motioned for him to bend down so she could peek his cheek.

"How are you so damn cheerful first thing in the morning?" he asked, accepting the kiss.

"Dad says the same thing all the time," Chelsea responded. "It drives him nuts. He likes his peace and quiet while he's reading his paper and drinking his coffee. How he's managed to stay married to mom this long, I'll never know."

"You know," Flack said. "I think the same thing when I realize how long I've been married to your aunt. Just how in the hell have I survived."

"I think that should be the other way around," Tiana commented. "Aunt Sam should be asking that about herself. How she ever managed to put up with you for so long. With any man, actually."

"You're such a damn feminist," Flack complained.

"You two eat yet?" Sam asked, and immediately began preparing Eggo's and pouring bowls of cereal when Tiani shook her head.

"What?" Flack laughed. "Your dad didn't make enough as commish that he can't feed you guys?"

"He throws us scraps here and there," Tiani replied.

"What I want to know is when my house became the Flack Drop in Centre for way ward youth," Flack commented. "Because suddenly I'm footing the bill to feed every kid in a three block radius."

"You're getting old, dad," Kieran said. "You're bitching and moaning way more than usual. Mom didn't go easy on you last night and let you get some sleep?"

"You are so gross!" Alannah complained, slugging her brother in the shoulder.

"What happened to your hair?" Tiana asked. "Accident with the vacuum cleaner while you were going for the other head?"

"Got a girlfriend for that," he replied. "And she ain't the one giving up said favors in the boys bathroom."

"Kieran!" Sam exclaimed. "Stop it! Don't talk like that!"

"If you only knew, mom," he said with a sigh and stood up.

"Well I don't want to know," Sam snapped. "And you're getting a little too smart with your mouth. Don't talk like that with your siblings in the room and most importantly, don't talk like that with me and your dad in the room. It's rude and disrespectful."

"Sorry, mommy," he said and dropped his dishes in the washer. "Just girls like that? Piss me off."

"Fine. But keep those comments to yourself," Sam told him. "Can you make sure Declan is all cleaned up and ready to go, please?"

"I can," he said, and kissed her cheek. "Sorry, mommy," he said once again.

"Just watch your mouth from now on," she told him. "Keep that kind of talk between you and your buddies, okay?"

"Okay," he agreed and headed out of the kitchen.

Sam sighed and looked at Flack. "When did he grow up?" she asked. "One minute it was like he was a baby and the next he was a smart mouth teenager. Where'd the time go? How'd we miss him going from a little boy to almost man?"

Flack shrugged. "We blinked," he said.

Thanks to everyone who is reading and reviewing! I appreciate each and every one of you!