DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CSI:NY OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS. I DO HOWEVER, OWN SAMANTHA FLACK AND BABY KIERAN.

Merry Christmas, Good morning

"And right now where I'm right where I wanna be
I've never felt so loved, so peaceful and so free
Hey there ain't no doubt that God's been good to me'
Cause he put me smack dab in the middle of Paradise
In the heart of the city where my dreams have come alive
And everything I have, and everything I see
Is just another reminder that God's been good to me
This golden road's been long
And sometimes I've lost my way
I've been down some darkened detours
Leanin' heavy on my faith
But where the devil had me chained
Lord your love done set me free."
-God's Been Good to Me, Keith Urban

He sat and stared at the simple piece of plastic in his trembling hands for what seemed like an eternity. Tears of both shock and happiness stinging his eyes. Neither of them spoke. He was scarcely aware that his wife was even sitting beside him, her one arm around him and her other hand resting on his thigh as her head lay on his shoulder. She was looking at him. Waiting for some kind of response. Whether it be with words or with actions. And he couldn't seemed to conjure up a damn decent thing to say.

He glanced at her. There was apprehension in her eyes. Maybe even some concern and fear as to why he wasn't reacting right away. All that he could think of was what those two simple words on that test meant to them and their lives. Another life had been created. Their small family was quickly expanding. And despite the fact that they had been consciously trying to get pregnant, the reality that it had happened so soon, while their first child was still in diapers and not even walking on his own, was daunting. Two kids under the age was two was going to be a hell of a handful.

"Please say something," Sam implored.

"When did you find out?" he asked. "When we got home?"

"I've known since early this afternoon," she replied. "And you've been called in early every day for the past week and a bit so you haven't really been around to notice how deathly ill I've been in the morning lately. I've also been hiding it pretty well at work and at home when you're around."

"You should have told me you suspected it, Sammie. I thought after that false test at the beginning of the month you abandoned the idea of being pregnant and convinced yourself it was just the meds screwing your body up?"

"It was in the back of my mind that I might be. But I figured I'd just wait until my period was late this month and than do another test. I didn't want to tell you because you've had a lot on your plate with work and I know how disappointed you were the first time. I just didn't want to get your hopes up and than nothing."

"Why didn't you tell me at the precinct?" he asked.

"It wasn't the right moment or the environment. I wanted to tell you when it was special and memorable. So I figured I'd wait until midnight and announce it as a Christmas present. I only told a little white lie. So you'd b extra surprised. I mean, it's a good surprise for you, right?"

She sounded scared and nervous.

"Of course is it. I just never expected it to happen this soon. After that first negative test and than you telling me earlier you had another negative result…you sure about this?" he asked, holding up the baggie.

"It's 99.99 percent accurate," she told him.

"This is me and you we're talking about Sam. Anything is possible."

"I'm sure. A hundred percent sure. I actually, kinda, sorta did more than one test."

"So two came out positive?"

She smiled sheepishly. "More like five," she admitted.

"Five? You took five pregnancy tests? Two wasn't enough?"

"I just wanted to be sure," she explained. "And each one came out the same. Positive."

"But what about the one you took at the beginning of the month? Why was that one negative?"

"Maybe there wasn't enough pregnancy hormone in my body for the test to detect," she reasoned. "I don't know. All I know is that I spent a ridiculous amount of money on plastic sticks to pee on and they all told me the same thing. I'm pregnant. We're pregnant. We're having a baby, Donnie."

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, staring at that test in his hands as her words sank in.

"This is what we wanted," she reminded him. She gave a small smile and rubbed his thigh. "I mean, this is what we wanted, wasn't it?"

He nodded.

"We decided to try for another one. We haven't used any form of birth control since the night of Carmen and Speed's wedding. And when you don't use protection these things happen. So we shouldn't be sitting here like finding out we're having another baby is the end of the world as we know it."

"It's not that," he said, shaking his head slowly. "I want another baby. I was ready to have another kid a couple months after Kieran was born, you know that. But saying you're ready and being ready are two totally different things."

She frowned. "So you don't want another baby?"

"What?" he looked at her and was taken aback by the tears that threatened in her eyes. "No…baby, that's not what I'm saying. I do want another baby. I just…I wasn't expecting to hearing this so soon. I thought maybe a few months down the road. I didn't think it would happen this quickly is all. And it's one of those things that you plan and plan for and still get freaked out about when it comes about. I mean, you're freaked out, aren't you?"

She nodded and rested her chin on his arm and looked up at him.

"I don't think anyone's ever prepared to hear about something like this," he said, looking down at the test once again and running his thumb along the smooth, cool plastic of the baggie. Thinking of the ramifications that the result held for them. "Wow," he said, and sighed heavily and struggled with tears once again.

"At least tell me you're happy, Donnie," she begged. "That you're not thinking this is a huge mistake."

"Do you think that?" he asked, looking down at her.

"This is what we wanted. A baby. Something we made together could never be a mistake. But I should be ecstatically happy and all I can think about is what all of this means. I haven't been back to work that long and I can just imagine what Mac's reaction is going to be when he finds out he'll have to put me on modified duty again and loose me so soon to mat leave. And Kieran is still a baby himself. He doesn't even walk yet or feed himself very good and he might still be in diapers when I have a new baby in diapers to worry about."

"A lot can happen in his life, development wise between now and when the baby is born, Samantha. And don't worry about Mac. He'll just have to deal with it. It's what he gets for hiring so many women at child bearing age. And honestly, I love Mac, but who gives a rats ass what he thinks."

"And what about where we'll live? We couldn't stay here. Look at how crowded it is with us and Kieran. How the hell will we fit another body in here on a permanent basis?"

"Carmen lived with us for five months after Kieran was born. She's an adult and took up more space than a baby will. It can sleep in our room until Kieran is old enough to be put in a bed and the two of them can share a room."

"That bedroom is small, Donnie. And look at all the stuff that comes with kids. There's no way two of them can stay in that room."

"So we'll move," he said and sat the plastic baggie down on the coffee table. "Why are you worrying about this now?"

"It's plausible stuff to be worried about. And money. What about money? We don't make a lot of money even with our salaries put together and…"

"Sammie," he turned sideways and gently took her face in both of his hands. "You're just getting a little paranoid. There's still a nice chunk of change left from Zack's estate and the sale of the house in Arizona. And it's not like we're just scraping by with what we make. We're living pretty good without even touching what's in the bank."

"I know but…"

"No one in this house is going to starve or go without. Even if you were to quit, I'd still be able to take care of you and Kieran and a new baby and just dip into the savings account from time to time. It's not like we're destitute. Another mouth to feed is not going to put us out on the street."

"I know, but…"

He silenced her by covering her lips in a long, soft and meaningful kiss. "We're going to be okay," he assured her, her face still in his hands, his forehead resting against hers. "I promise you that we're going to be okay. All of us."

She laid her hands over his and nodded. Tears spilled down her cheeks and she bit her bottom lip nervously.

"What's a matter?" he asked, pulling back slightly to look at her. "You believe me, don't you? That I'll take care of us?"

"Of course I do. I always have faith in you. It's just that.." she sniffled noisily. "I was so scared for a second that you were disappointed. That you weren't happy about it."

"Are you crazy?" Flack asked, kissing her quickly before removing his hands from her face in favour of wrapping his arms around her slender body and gathering her into his chest as he collapsed back against the arm of the couch.

She giggled as she ended up stomach down on top of him. She settled herself between his legs and circled his torso with her arms and rested her head on his chest.

"I'm fucking ecstatic, Sammie," he declared, his hands stroking her back. "This is awesome news. How could it not be? We're having a baby."

"I'm just scared," she admitted.

He kissed the top of her head, brought a hand up to stroke her hair. "About?"

"Things went so wrong with Kieran. I had nothing but problems with him. Pre-eclampsia and gestational diabetes and a tear in the placenta. And the whole incompetent cervix thing! What if this pregnancy goes bad too?"

"You're doctor will keep a close eye on you. Hell, I'll keep a close eye on you. And it wasn't all bad with Kieran. Once you had that operation, things were okay. And he was born healthy and with no missing pieces. You did an amazing job. And you'll do an amazing job this time, too."

"And the blood work coming back and saying there was a problem.."

"And was there? No. He was perfectly normal for lack of a better word. Things will be okay. Just have faith in yourself and this baby that you're carrying. It will all work out. And who knows, everything could go perfect this time around."

"Or it could go exceptionally bad," she said.

"Hey, look at me…"

She raised her head.

"I don't want you talking like that, okay? Don't be counting this baby out before he or she even gets out of the starting gate. Everything's going to be fine and you need to promise me that you're not going to stress yourself out thinking about all the things that could go wrong and that you'll concentrate on everything that's wonderful and amazing about us having another baby."

She smiled.

"Promise me," he said.

She slid herself up his body and kissed him delicately. "I promise."

He brushed hair out of her face. "I love you, Samantha. So much. And you're right. This did out do the Rangers tickets. Which as incredible, don't get me wrong. But this? This takes the cake."

"A Christmas you will never forget," she declared. "And I love you, too."

He combed his fingers through her hair and than tangled his hand in the long, dark tresses and pulled her against him for a long, body tingling, toe curling kiss. "So what's this about a Mrs Claus outfit?" he asked.

"Just a little something I picked up for you," she replied, popping open the third button on his dress shirt.

When he'd arrived home from dropping Reed off, he'd taken off his tie and undone the top two buttons on his shirt. Now she was taking care of the rest.

"Well you wanna go in the bedroom and you can put it on for me?" he asked, as she tugged his shirt from his pants and continued undoing it.

"Actually," she said, giving him a devilish grin. She finished with the last button and climbed off of his own prone body.

Standing by the side of the couch, she peeled off her sweat pants and t-shirt and tossed them aside. Uncovering a nearly sheer, red baby doll nightie with white fur trim along the bottom hem and spaghetti straps. And matching thong underwear.

"Holy shit," he declared. "You weren't joking."

"No," she said and reached for his hand. "I was not."

He grinned and let her pull him to his feet. Than he gathered her into his arms for a hungry, demanding kiss. His hands drifting up the back of her nightie, his fingers grazing along the top edge of her panties. "God I love you," he whispered, as his lips found her neck.

"Do you?" she asked, stepping away from him. She reached around the grab his hand once more and gave it a tug. "How about you take me in the bedroom and show me how much?"

He smiled broadly, the dimples in his cheeks standing out. And before she could react, he grabbed her and effortlessly scooped her up into his strong, capable arms.

"I'm never going to let you go you know," he informed her, carrying her to their bedroom while she began nibbling on his ear lobe and neck.

"Promise?" she asked.

"Promise."

"Good," she declared. "Because I'll never let you."

Samantha's eyes snapped open as she woke with a start. Sprawled out on her left side, she cast a glance towards the clock radio resting on the nightstand. The illuminated red numbers were the only source of light in the bedroom and advertised that it was shortly after three in the morning. Her husband was fast asleep behind her. Snoring lightly, resting on his side with her back snuggled into his chest and stomach, and his head next to hers, sharing her pillow. She could feel his soft, warm breath slightly rustling her hair and his chest rising and falling against her back. His one arm tightly around her and his hand resting on her stomach. Protectively.

It had been well after one in the morning by the time they collapsed in the middle of their rumpled, well used bed out of sheer exhaustion. They laughed and talked sleepily. Ecstatic over their news. Excited and exhilarated over the thought of adding to their small family. Of there being a brand new life growing inside of her. Than yawning and unable to keep his eyes open any longer, Flack had gathered up the comforter, pulled her into his arms and promptly fell asleep. Sam had spent some time staring into the darkness of their room. Unable to fall asleep despite the fact she was tired and weary from a long day chasing after their son and getting ready for Christmas.

And when she did manage to fall asleep, she was plagued with bizarre dreams and fitful rest. She wasn't exactly sure what had woken her up. So she lay in the stillness of the room, listening. She had been a light sleeper since Kieran had arrived almost eleven months ago. Able to pick up on the slightest hiccup or moan or movement he made despite being separated by a wall. She heard nothing coming from the room next door. But did hear the sound of faint hammering coming from the upstairs neighbour.

"Fucking asshole," she mumbled.

The guy was a complete and utter moron since he'd moved in four months ago. Dragging furniture across the floor, slamming doors, drilling and hammering. All at ungodly hours of the morning. Flack had gone up several times because the noise continuously woke Kieran up and prevented Flack himself from getting any rest following long, tedious shifts. The last time he'd went, he'd taken his badge with him and shoved it in the guy's face the moment he opened the door.

As annoying as the noise above her head was, it was hardly a terrible nuisance. It hadn't been what had woken her up. It was, she now realized, the crazy dreams that she'd been having the moment her eyes had flickered closed. And she just couldn't go back to sleep without telling someone all about it. And that someone was fast asleep behind her.

She picked up Flack's arm and rolled over onto her opposite side, so that she was now facing him, and rested his arm on her side. She pressed a kiss to his lips, than to his chin and cheek. Followed by both of his eyes and ending with the tip of his nose.

"Donnie…" she whispered, laying a hand on his hip and shaking him lightly. "Donnie…"

He stopped snoring. Scratched at his nose, nestled the side of his face in the pillow and continued sleeping.

"Donnie!" she repeated. Louder this time. Shaking him more forcibly. "Donnie! Wake up!"

"Hmm?" he responded, his eyes still closed.

"Wake up!" she continued to shake him. "I need you to wake up!"

"What?" he asked groggily, cracking open one eye. "What is it, baby? What's wrong?"

"I can't sleep," she whined.

"What time is it?" he inquired, reaching out to lay a hand on the back of her neck.

"Just after three."

He groaned loudly. "Go back to sleep, Samantha."

"I can't!" she cried. "It took me forever to get to sleep and than when I did fall off I had these strange dreams and they woke me up!"

Flack yawned noisily. "Just dreams," he assured her. "Close your eyes and be quiet and go back to sleep."

"Don't you want to hear about them?" she asked.

"Can't it wait until, I don't know, daylight? Say eight or nine?"

"I'll never be able to fall back asleep if I don't tell you know," she responded, sitting up in bed.

He sighed and rolled over onto his back and lay a forearm over his eyes. Relegating himself to the fact that if he wanted to go back to sleep anytime soon, he better just humour her.

"What were these dreams about?" he asked.

"I had this dream that Mac was taken hostage in a bank by this guy named Joe. Someone got killed in the robbery and Mac was allowed in there to investigate and this guy took him hostage! And you were there doing the negotiations and Stella was there and…I don't know where anyone else was."

"Yeah? Sounds exciting. Good night."

"That's not all! There's more!"

"Okay…."

"I don't know what happened, but the next thing I know, Mac ends up in the East River. At least I think it was the East River. I never heard anyone say it was but he was in the water. And than Stella and him are investigating this Joe guy and before I knew it, for some reason she's dangling off the side of this building."

"Was she okay?"

"Yeah…she got herself up. No surprise. Because it's Stella and she can do anything. Anyhow, it's all a real blur and I can't remember the finer details. But you know what the most fucked up part of this whole dream was?"

He sighed. "What, babe?"

"Your sister was involved."

"I don't have a sister. At least not one I know of."

"I know. But in this dream you had a sister. She was a bartender. And she drove this sweet ass Dodge Charger. Which makes no sense because really, how in the hell would a bartender afford a ride like that?"

"Is there a point to all of this?" he asked.

"Yeah…your sister kind of looked like me. She looked like she could be more my sister. And you wouldn't believe what her name was!"

"Humour me," Flack said.

"Samantha!" she cried. "Her name was Samantha! I'm Samantha! I'm your wife! Not your sister!"

"You know what I think of all of this?" he asked, looking over at her. Both amused and somewhat distressed at how badly such a ridiculous thing had unnerved her.

"What?"

"First, I think that's the last time you eat or drink anything with caffeine before bed. Because it totally messes up your brain. Two, I think that sounds like someone's lame ass attempt at writing a script for a television show."

"Think so?" she asked, visibly upset.

Flack nodded.

"Okay," she said with a sigh. "Thank you. For listening to me."

"Did I really have a choice?" he asked as she leaned over to kiss him.

"Not really," she replied, and turned back around to settle down on her left side.

He shook his head in disbelief at the conversation that had just taken place and he rolled over onto his side once more and reached out to draw her back into him.

"Do me a huge favour?" he asked, lips buried in her hair.

She nodded.

"Two favours, actually. One, please don't wake me up at this time again to tell me about something like that."

"Sorry," she said sheepishly and wrapped her arms around his right bicep and hugged him to her.

"And two, stop watching these damn soap operas or what not you've gotten yourself into. You've got way too much of an overactive imagination. A sister? Named Samantha? That looked like you?"

"You know that tattoo on the small of my back?"

"What about it?" he asked.

"She had almost the exact same design but on the inside of her right bicep."

"Yeah? That's a dumb ass place. Your's is much sexier. And the whole thing sounds just plain stupid if you ask me. Samantha is your name. My wife. Why would you ever dream I had a sister named the same thing?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. I just did."

"Feel better now? That you told me all this?"

She nodded and yawned.

"Goodnight, baby," he said and kissed the back of her head.

"Goodnight," she echoed and closed her eyes.

"Hey, Sam?" he asked after several minutes.

"Hmm?"

"If Samantha is my sister and Samantha is also my wife does that mean we're inbreeders and that what we did earlier is considered incest?"

"Fuck you, Don Flack," she grumbled.

He chuckled. "If you're my sister, we are sick, twisted, dirty people."

"Shut up," she said.

She woke up to sunlight streaming through the window and the smell of pancakes and sausage drifting through the apartment. She could hear Christmas music faintly playing on the stereo in the living room and both Kieran's, and Flack's voices. The latter was instruction his son to NOT stick honey nut Cheerios up his nose, in his ears or in other orifice of his body for that matter. Kieran, in that piercing shriek that he had discovered in day care and now loved so much, was clearly and defiantly, although with very few recognizable words, telling his father where to go and how to get there. For eleven months old the kid was mouthy. No doubt about it. It was the hazards of having half his father's DNA inside of him.

But with the mouthy came periods of unbelievable cuteness. The way he'd learned to wink at people -especially women- and the near constant habit of blowing kisses, even to strangers, and that subtle, flirty way he got when someone -again, especially women- would talk to him. He'd cock his head to his side and raise his shoulders and flash his dimpled grin and make those blue eyes sparkle and women of all ages and sizes were practically on the ground in front of him in a puddle of goo.

"Gonna have trouble with that one when he's fourteen," Danny had once said, when Sam had brought Kieran, than only months old, into the lab and she was nearly besieged by hordes of females flocking to the stroller to get a look at the baby.

"Well than you better make sure you have all boys," Sam had joked. "And if you have girls, that you keep them locked in the house."

The on going joke now was that Kieran had two 'ladies' now vying for his attention and possible future relationship status. Addie, and Mac and Stella's unborn baby girl that they had tentatively named Tiana. To Stella and Carmen, it was all shits and giggles about having their daughters hook up with Kieran with that thick dark hair and his bright blue eyes. They were practically stroking off the days on the calendar until all the kids were in school and it came time to see who Kieran's favourite was.

To Mac and Speed however, the sky was falling at the mere prospect of their daughters being anywhere in the close proximity if a boy with the last name Flack.

"Maybe you all will have nothing to worry about and Kieran will turn out gay," Danny had said, when Speed was lamenting in the lunchroom about the fact Carmen all but had Addie and Kieran's wedding date planned.

Flack, who'd just walked into the room to see if there were any results on a case he'd caught, had heard that swipe at his son and all but had to refrain himself from nailing Danny Messer's head through the table.

Kieran, for the most part, was unfazed by his popularity with women. He had three loves in his life. Food, his toys, and his mother. In that order. As far as he was concerned, no other female existed and that was just fine by Sam. She wasn't ready to share her little man anyway.

She sighed and rolled over onto her back and lay in bed for some time. Listening to the sounds coming down the hall and enjoying the delicious smell of the food being prepared. She was hungry. Starving in fact. Yet at the same time, too lazy to get out of bed and pull on some pyjamas and head for the kitchen.

Several minutes passed before she decided enough was enough. It was Christmas morning. Almost quarter to eight according to the clock on the nightstand. There was breakfast to be eaten, presents to be opened and the clean up of the massive mess that would be left behind afterwards. Than lunch to be prepared, three people including a toddler to get bathed and dressed, baby gear and presents packed into the car and a half hour drive into Queens.

And her mother to put up with. She just hoped the woman behaved herself in front of her in laws. Especially when Flack Sr got into the booze and became more sarcastic and loose lipped than normal.

Sam pushed off the heavy down filled comforter and slipped out of bed. The moment her bare feet hit the hard wood floor, a wave of nausea flooded through her entire body. At first she attempted to control it by closing her eyes and leaning forward with her elbows on her thighs and her head between her legs. But when it became apparent that it was futile, she jumped off the bed and ran for the washroom.

Cursing her body, and her husband for causing her such torment and agony.

Twenty minutes passed before she could peel herself away from the cold porcelain of the toilet bowl.

Twenty minutes of constant, horrific vomiting and profuse sweating and many, many tears. And an endless string of profanity.

She splashed cold water on her face and brushed her teeth to rid her mouth of the foul, acrid taste lingering on her tongue and lips. She brushed out her hair and snagged an elastic from around the door knob and put her tresses into a tight, high ponytail. One glance in the mirror told her she looked exactly like she felt.

Like complete and utter shit.

Flack was leaning against the sink ledge and sipping a cup of steaming black coffee in a pair of sweats and a wife beater. Simultaneously keeping an eye on a third batch of pancakes on the stove and watching Kieran as he finger fed himself chunks of banana, and dry Cheerios. The first two servings of banana pancakes and breakfast sausage were keeping warm on a heat resistant plate in the oven when Samantha came padding into the kitchen in one of his dress shirts. It hung past her knees and the sleeves were rolled up a mile and she nearly drowned in it. But she looked damn adorable and irresistible.

"Mommeee!" Kieran shrieked happily when he saw her.

"Merry Christmas, baby boy," she gushed, and leaned over the high chair to shower his sticky cheeks with kisses. "Did daddy show you all the presents that Santa brought you?"

"Yeah…" he answered enthusiastically. It was a new word he had learned, but he wasn't necessarily responding to her question. He said yeah no matter what he was asked. But it sure as hell was better than having him say no all the time.

"Good idea to put those baby gates around the tree," Flack told her, sipping his coffee. "'Cause he was ready to just go to town as soon as I showed him everything."

"Did you give him something to open?" Sam asked, turning her head to the side to avoid the handful of mashed banana Kieran was attempting to shove in her mouth.

"You kidding? And have you ream me out for screwing up the natural progression of things? He was happy once we got in here and he got some food on his tray."

"Well he's definitely your son," Sam commented. "Food is his number one priority."

"I can think of a couple of other things in my life that come close," Flack said and winked at her.

"Have you had that big goofy grin on your face since last night?" she asked, as she crossed the kitchen and wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head on his chest.

He nodded. "Save for you waking me up at three in the morning to tell me about some stupid ass dream."

"It really bothered me," she argued.

"Hey, Kieran," Flack called to his son.

The baby popped a piece of banana into his mouth and looked over at his father.

"Did you meet your Auntie Samantha?" he asked, nodding down at his wife.

"Let it go already," she grumbled, pinching his side.

"I was just figuring, seeing as you're my sister, he's really your son and your nephew in some gross, screwed up way."

She raised her head and looked up at him. "Let it go," she repeated.

He set his mug down on the counter and curled his arms around her slender body and kissed her. Long and soft and sweet. "Merry Christmas," he said, pressing his lips to her forehead.

"Merry Christmas," she returned with a bright smile. "I don't feel very good this morning," she sighed.

"Sick to your stomach?"

She nodded.

"You actually throw up?"

"Naturally. Seems to me that pregnancy for me is not complete without throwing up. Makes me wonder why I ever wanted to have another baby seeing as I get so sick."

"I'll show you why?" Flack said, and laying his hands on her shoulders, gently turned her around so her back was to his stomach. He wrapped his arms around her, his one hand resting on her stomach. "See our son, Sammie? How smart and adorable he is?"

She nodded.

He kissed her cheek. "That's why you wanted another one. Because the end result is worth everything you go through."

"Easy for you to say," she giggled as he nuzzled the side of her neck with his nose. "You aren't the one puking your guts out and getting fat. You get the initial fun and donate the sperm and that's it. I do all the hard work."

"Yeah…but look at the damn good job I did the first time around with Kieran. That's champion league sperm that made something like him."

"And you're suggesting that he didn't get his amazing good looks for his mother?"

"Come on," Flack laughed. "We all know I'm the looks and you're the brains of this operation."

"You're moron," she said, directing a playful elbow at his stomach. "And you're right…it is worth it in the end. Although I do hope there's no hospital stays this time around."

"Me, too," he agreed. "There was just a little too much excitement with Kieran if you ask me."

"Definitely," she said, than grimace and rubbed her stomach. "Could you…"

He was already releasing her and moving away. "You don't even have to ask," he told her, as he went to one of the cupboards and got down the box of soda crackers. He sat them on the table and than went to the fridge and grabbed the milk. He poured her a glass, than warmed it in the microwave.

"You're a pro," she enthused, taking a seat at the table.

"Got lots of practice with Kieran," he said, and set the glass down in front of her.

She caught his hand as he went to walk away from the table. "You're so good to me," she said.

Flack smiled, leaned down and kissed her softly. "Just returning the favour," he told her.

The living room was a disaster area.

Two hours after breakfast, discarded wrapping paper and bows and empty boxes littered every available inch of space. The Sony camcorder had been turned off and now sat on the coffee table along side. Slippers was tearing around the house chasing after a cat nip mouse that had been in the toy filled stocking that Flack had picked up just for her at Pet Smart the week before. Kieran was busying himself with the box that his Fisher Price Tool Bench had come in. There were boxes of toys everywhere. From cars and trucks to a Fisher Price Garage and Learning Table to a three in one walking and riding dump truck that Flack knew, as soon as he had put the batteries in, would drive him nuts within a week.

"All that and he plays with a box?" Flack shook his head as he and Sam relaxed on the couch. His arm around her as she was snuggled into his side, her legs tucked underneath her and her head on his chest.

"It's the greatest thing in the world to him," Sam said, laughing as Kieran tipped the box over and plopped it onto his head. "He's a ham like you," she informed her husband. "And is he not best friends with the camera or what? He sure is full of himself."

"I wonder where he gets that from. His mother, you think?"

"Pardon me? I think you've got me confused with yourself. You're the egotistical one."

"Me? Never?"

She giggled and pressed a kiss to the underside of his chin. "Right…and bears don't shit in the woods. You know what they say about guys who are that full of themselves? Who think they're the shit?"

"I don't think it," he corrected her. "I know it."

"Whatever."

"And what do they say? And whose they anyway? Are you going to psycho-analyse me again, Samantha?"

"They. As in the experts. Apparently it means you're actually lacking in self-confidence."

"Yeah?" he reached out and lay a hand on the back of her head. "Well I've always been a study in contradiction."

"Very true," she said, and kissed him softly.

"Mommeee," Kieran got himself up onto his feet and than toddled, somewhat unsteadily, over to where his parents sat. "Daddeee…" he reached up, opening and closing his fists several times. A clear indication he wanted to be picked up.

"Come here, big guy," Flack said, removing his arm from around his wife and leaning down to scoop his son up and settle him in between them. The smell hit him immediately. "Jesus, Kieran…do you have to?"

"That's a ripe one," Sam declared. "Even I don't think I can deal with that one."

"Fine," Flack sighed and got up from the couch. "But don't be going to all your friends and bitching and moaning that I never do my fair share of diaper changing. 'Cause by the smell of it, this one takes the cake."

"Could be worse," Sam said, as her husband picked their son up. "He could be smearing it all over the place again."

Flack grimaced and shuddered at the memory. "You know, I hope this baby is a girl. 'Cause girls can not be as gross as boys. No way."

"Shit is shit, Don. No matter what sex is dealing it out," Sam reasoned, getting to her feet as well. "I'm going to start cleaning everything up. My folks should be back soon. And we've got a lot to do before we head to your parents."

"Let's just hope that the natives will co-exist peacefully," he said, as he carried Kieran from the room.

"Where are you taking him? There's wipes and diapers out here."

"I've got to get something out of his room. Might as well kill two birds with one stone."

"What do you have to get?" she asked.

"It's a surprise," he replied simply and disappeared down the hall.

Sam went and grabbed two green garbage bags from under the sink and set to work cleaning up the living room. She had honestly never seen such a mess. Or that many toys in one house. There was enough new toys alone to open up a day care centre and not have any of the kids battling over the same item. It was disgusting and excessive, yet she just couldn't help herself from going overboard for her son's first Christmas. And neither she, or Flack had gone without either. Mostly new clothes. Some books and Cds and DVDs. In her stocking a five hundred dollar gift certificate to Macy's so she could pick out whatever she wanted that she hadn't managed to score in other presents. Next to the Rangers tickets, Flack's big haul had been a new white and yellow gold Tag Hauer watch he already sported proudly on his right wrist.

"Looks like Hurrican Kieran blew through the place," Sam commented, as she heard the two men in her life coming down the hall and into the living room. Kieran's incessant babbling always gave him away.

"Is it just me?" Flack asked. "Or does our son always have a lot to say?"

"We are his parents," she responded, stuffing garbage into one of the bags. "We're both like that. So we can't really lay blame."

"If he could talk, like real words, I bet you he'd be telling us off right, left and center."

"I wouldn't doubt it," she said, and glanced over as they came further into the living room, Kieran toddling beside his dad, holding onto Flack's pant leg with one hand, and a brightly coloured gift bag with the other. His father helping bare the burden a little by holding onto the handle with two fingers.

"What are you two up to?" she asked.

"It's a special delivery," Flack replied. "Santa dropped this one by and wanted me to hold off on giving it to you until the bitter end."

"Okay…" she said, eyeing him sceptically. "What is it?" she asked, as she got to her feet.

"I don't know," he told her. "It's from Santa. It was already wrapped when he brought it."

She sat down on the couch and Flack lifted both Kieran and the bag onto the couch. He took a seat beside her and moved Kieran onto his lap. Watching as she lifted the elaborately wrapped gift from the bag and than let the baby assist in unwrapping it.

Tears immediately sprung to her eyes when she saw what was underneath all the paper. It was the last thing she had ever expected to be opening on Christmas morning. Especially at her age. But there it was. Twenty-three years later, the one gift she had coveted more than anything on earth.

A Cabbage Patch kid.

Emotion caught in her throat and she laid a hand over her chest. She couldn't speak. All words seemed to fail her. Her hands shook and the tears finally came, spilling hot and free down her cheeks.

Flack felt himself choke up. He'd never seen his wife like that. About anything. Ever. He'd seen her get emotional and shed a tear here and there about something nice he'd done for her, but he'd never seen that raw emotion come over her. Other than the night their son was born.

"I'm sorry," she said finally, brushing frantically at her tears.

"Why are you sorry?" he asked.

"Crying like this. Over a doll."

"I'd rather see you cry because you're happy over getting a present than cry over something horrible and crappy happening to you," he told her.

"You have no idea how much this means to me," she whispered, than leaned across the couch and laid her hand on the side of his face and kissed him softly. "Thank you, Donnie. You just have no idea."

He wouldn't tell her the hassle he'd gone through to find that doll. Or that he had had to pay a ridiculous amount for it at an antique store. None of that mattered. All that mattered was seeing her reaction and the realization that he'd made her that happy.

"Can I open it?" she asked.

"Isn't that what you're suppose to do? Open it and take it out? Play with it? It's a toy, right? Just promise me it will not sleep on our bed. That I could not deal with."

"I promise," she vowed, and carefully tore open the box and lifted the doll and small envelope from it.

"What's that?" he asked, nodding at the envelope.

"Adoption certificate," she replied.

"Come again?"

"When you bought her, you adopted her. So she comes with adoption papers. It's how we know what her name is."

He sighed and shook his head. "I'm starting to think I want to have all boys. Girls just come with way too much weird, confusing stuff."

"It's just a nice little touch," Sam said, and ripped open the envelope and removed the contents.

"What's her name?" Flack asked curiously.

"Her name is Alannah Olivia-Rose," Sam read. "That's a beautiful name."

"It's alright," he said, and reached over to pick the doll up. He held it out at arm's length, to keep it away from Kieran's grabby, greedy hands. You just helped me score huge Brownie points, he thought, than handed the doll back to his still teary wife.

She cradled it to her like a baby. Than smiled at him and picked up his hand and held it tightly.

He smiled as well and moved both of their hands to her stomach. Where their baby was safe and warm and would soon be thriving and growing. He wrapped his arm tightly around his son and pressed a kiss to the top of Kieran's head.

And they all sat there. Enjoying the silence. As a family.

Thanks to everyone who is reading and reviewing! I appreciate each and every one of you! Even the lurkers!! Please just drop a review folks! It makes my day and lets me know if I should continue with these stories or not.

Special thanks to:

Laurzz
Brttmclv
Hope4sall
muchmadness
Forest Angel
TruLuv
Wolfeylady
GregRox
Shopaholic20
bluehaven4220