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

New Years Eve, baby! Part 1

"Seems somebody put out the moon
Now the road is a minefield
I can't follow the way she moves
I can't see past the shadows
You make the darkness disappear
I feel found when you stay near
I know where I am when you are here
My way becomes so clear
When you're gone
Will I lose control?
You're the only road I know
You show me where to go
Who will drive my soul?"
-Drive My Soul, Lights

Adam Ross couldn't believe his shit luck.

It was New Years Eve. Shortly before quarter to twelve in the afternoon and he was ass deep in trace evidence and mountains of surveillance tapes from a subway tracks fatality only two hours before were awaiting his attention down in the audio-visual lab. It was suppose to be his day off. The plans had already been made, and approved by Mac, for him and Gus to head down to Atlantic City with Speed and Carmen and Angell and Hawkes. The spot had originally been filled by his sister and Flack, but they had mysteriously cancelled at the last second despite having their hotel room booked and paid for. There was no possible way they could had gotten a refund, so they had done the next best thing and offered the overnight trip up to Adam and Gus as a late Christmas present.

Adam had been looking forward to it. Gus had only been home for a day and he was dying to spend some alone time with her. Those times seemed few and far between as of late. But a string of crimes overnight had prompted an extremely apologetic Mac to call Adam in. For the long haul. He was insistent on having his best lab tech on the job and Adam found it practically impossible to say no to his boss. He was former Marine after all, and sometimes had a stare that just caused you to shake in your boots and nearly piss yourself.

Adam still cowered whenever he thought about the time Mac had lost it on him over Inspector Gerrard getting lab results involving the Emma Pierce case. The young woman who'd been found wrapped in a mover's blanket with packing tape covering her face on Coney Island. Her severed eyelids had led Mac to believe it was the work of the recently released Clay Dobson. It had been Dobson in the end and the shit had surely hit the proverbial fan when the scum bag rapist had taken his swan dive off a twenty storey building.

Mac had reamed Adam out in front of Stella and a relatively packed lab when he found out Gerrard had gotten his hands on some important info first. Adam had never been so embarrassed and so hurt and frightened as he had been that day. There had only been one person who was ever able to instil that kind of fear in him, and by the grace of God, he was dead and hopefully burning in hell.

But it wasn't just fear that prompted Adam to cancel his New Years plans. It had been for the enormous respect he had for both Mac and the entire lab. For his job in general. And because he had plans for himself. Big plans. There was a CSI exam coming up in six months and Adam was determined to not only show up at One Police Plaza to take it, but to ace it and make his way out of the lab and out onto the street where the real excitement was. Hawkes had been his inspiration for that. If an ME could do it, so could a lowly lab tech. And Adam was determined that nothing would stand in his way.

And that included work related tasks that seemed as if they were never going to end. When he had asked Mac over the phone just how long he could be expecting to work, Mac had given that little chuckle that sometimes passed his lips and said, 'Let's put it this way. You might still be here next New Years Eve.' Gus had taken the cancellation of their plans relatively well. She was used to dates being rarely completed and annoying late night phone calls that either woke them from a dead sleep or stop any form of intimacy dead in its tracks. She had simply shrug when he apologized profusely and vowed to make it up to her.

And she'd kissed him goodbye at the door and told him she love him and than informed him, as she stood halfway out their apartment door just as he went to step on the elevator, that she was going to have a great time in Atlantic City whether he was there or not. Than she'd blew him a kiss and disappeared inside.

Life had never been fair to Adam. He was used to getting little to no respect. But if his fiancee happened to hit the jackpot at the blackjack table and dump his sorry ass, he was never going to forgive Mac for as long as he lived.

He was bent over a microscope, intently analysing fibre samples the same way he'd been doing for the last two hours and hadn't seen the two familiar faces enter the lab. His back was aching from standing microscope. He needed a break. Some caffeine and something to eat. A change of scenery even.

Something tugged on the bottom of his lab coat. Once. Than twice. Than a third time. Much more insistent and demanding. He tore his attention away from his work and glanced down. And found himself looking straight into the wide, blue eyes of his nephew. A backwards ball cap on his tiny head and dressed in a pair of baggy cargo style pants and a black hooded sweatshirt with Nike writing across it in big red letters.

"Unc…" Kieran squealed happily and wrapped both arms tightly around Adam's legs. Around one of his tiny wrists was a thick Velcro band, attached to which was a tether of sorts that attached to a matching band on his mother's wrist. So he couldn't get too far in his adventures. "Unc!"

"Uncle Peanut," Sam told her son. Adam noticed she looked exasperated and exhausted and it wasn't even noon hour yet.

"Makes you wish you had gotten a puppy instead, doesn't it," Adam remarked.

"UNC!" Kieran screamed. "UNC! UP!"

"It's been hell on earth all morning," Sam declared. "He won't stay in his stroller so I had to ditch it in the break room with our coats and what not in it. I had to resort to using this stupid leash thing so he won't run around and crash into everything, and he refused to eat breakfast. I made him scrambled eggs just like daddy does and all he wanted was apple sauce and dry Cheerios."

"UNC! UP!" Kieran demanded. "UP!"

"Giving your mom a hard time, huh?" Adam asked his nephew and scooped the toddler up into his arms. And was immediately given a wet and noisy kiss smack on the lips.

"And never mind the pre-op appointment this morning," Sam sighed, running a hand through her loose and flowing hair. "He screamed like a wild banshee through the entire thing. And all they were doing was weighing him and measuring him and making me fill out all kinds of information and sign my life away."

"That was brave of you," Adam said, twisting his head from side to side to avoid the tiny hands attempting to grab a hold of his beard, his hair and his nose.

"Well what was I suppose to do? Take mom or Sarge along and have them drive me nuts? And Don is in court all day so he was a write off. How's it going for you?"

Adam snorted.

"That good, huh? Good thing I'm here to rescue you for a bit than."

"It can't be permanently?" Adam asked hopefully.

"Sorry," Sam said. "But a trip to somewhere warm and tropical sounds damn good right about now. I had called the apartment to see if I could stop by and Gussie told me you got called in. And that she's going to be heading to A.C. alone. What's up with that? You can't get out of work in time?"

"Mac specifically informed me that I am here for the long haul. The very, very, very long haul. How come you and Flack bailed?"

"Don wanted us to spend New Years Eve alone. We got into it a couple weeks ago but how we don't spend enough alone time together. That there always seems to be people around us. He says he misses his wife. And to be honest, I miss my husband, too. So mom and dad are taking off for the night and doing the whole Times Square ball drop and staying in a room at the Waldorf. And Don's mom is picking Kieran up later this afternoon."

"A little late night party session for mommy and daddy?" Adam chuckled.

"Please," Sam laughed. "We'll be in bed and fast asleep before midnight I can guarantee it. So can you get away for lunch? My treat? There's something I need to talk to you about."

"Something serious?" Adam asked, switching his nephew from one hip to the other.

"Not a matter of life and death or anything like that," she replied. "Just something personal and important."

Adam arched his eyebrows. "You're not quitting, are you? Flack didn't finally get the upper hand on the whole you becoming a stay at home mom thing did he?"

"Are you crazy? I will never go for that and he knows it. He can dream all he wants. It is never going to happen. Give up my one social activity? If I didn't work I'd never see anyone. I'd be one of those mothers who know all the theme songs to the cartoons their kids watch and who gather around the park with their strollers and gossip and trade recipes. I think not."

"You need to make friends with the mommies who collect guns and shoot at tin cans and stray cats," Adam quipped.

She frowned. "It was one squirrel, Peanut. One squirrel when I was a kid. And if Sarge's rifle hadn't have had such a damn kick back on it I never would have hit the damn squirrel in the first place."

"Sure, Sammie. Blame it on the gun and not the person shooting it. People with guns kill other people. Not the guns themselves."

"Oh please! You sound like a damn Republican. You've been idolizing Mac a little too much. And as much as I'd love to stand here all day and argue gun control with you, I'm starving. So can you get away for lunch or what?"

"I can do that," Adam said. "If your son will stop sticking his fingers up my nose."

"Kieran!" Sam scolded and pried her son's fingers from his uncle's nose before taking the baby from Adam completely. "I seriously do not know what's wrong with you child! Why is he so bad, Peanut? Tell me! Tell me why my son is so bad!"

"He has you for a mother?" Adam suggested.

"Ha-ha. It's Don's DNA. I'm telling you it is. He produces mutant sperm. He only makes kids that are the spawns of Satan."

"I'm sure he says the same thing about your eggs," Adam said.

"You kidding? He says worse than that. I'm going to take Dennis the Menace here and go and change his bum. If you hear him screaming like a maniac it's because I'm putting him in the stroller. It's nothing to be overly concerned about. Unless it's concern for my sanity because that's almost depleted."

"Should have gotten a puppy like I said!" Adam called to her, as she carried her squirming, shrieking and complaining son from the room. "At least he doesn't talk back and loves you no matter what!"

"Yeah? Do they have an obedience school for husbands and kids that will train them just as well?" she shot back.

Adam smirked and shook his head and started packing away his work.

"And that is why I leave the procreating to you," he said.

The lab cafeteria wasn't exactly the change of scenery Adam had been hoping for. He had hoped to breathe fresh air and bask in the sunlight a bit. Feel alive and human again even if it was just for a short walk to one of the many restaurants that took up residence in mid-town. The frigid temperatures would have done a world of good waking him up and revitalizing him. But he was so paranoid of what Mac would say if the big boss man found out his lab tech was wandering the streets and spending social time with his sister when there was so much work waiting for him upstairs, that Adam reluctantly suggested lunch in the cafeteria.

Which was how he found himself digging into a greasy cheeseburger and a massive plate of fries instead of something more wholesome and healthy. The cafeteria didn't do wholesome and healthy the majority of the days. Every so often you could get a decent pasta dish or some nice herb crusted fish with rice and vegetables, but all the other days you were stuck with artery clogging fare, that as good as it tasted, was shortening your life span considerably. And Adam had been making a valiant attempt to take better care of himself.

"You're not hungry?" Sam asked, watching as her normally ravenous brother poked and prodded at his fries. Kieran was beside her in one of the cafeteria's supplied high chairs, making a valiant effort to feed himself chicken fingers and fries. Loaded down with ketchup.

"I feel guilty," Adam replied.

Sam arched an eyebrow and sipped a diet coke. The caffeine free type. "Why?" she asked, casting a glance at her son who had ketchup all over his face and hands and more food on the floor than on his tray. "Small bites, Kieran," she said, when he attempted to shove an entire half chicken finger into his mouth. She sighed and took it from him and broke it into smaller pieces.

"NO!!" he bellowed, not impressed with what she'd done.

"Hey!" she snapped, than lowered herself to his eye level and took his messy face in her hand and gently turned his head so he was looking directly at her. "Don't you talk like that to your mommy," she said in a quiet, yet stern voice. "That's not nice. Now you eat your lunch and be a good boy. Okay?"

"No," he answered defiantly and yanked his face from her hand and went back to his food.

Sam sighed heavily and shook her head. "Sorry, Adam….he's just….I don't even know what to say about him at this moment. You were saying you felt guilty. Why?"

"I feel guilty eating this stuff. I'm kinda on a diet."

"Why in the hell?"

"I don't know," Adam said. "I've been trying to take better care of myself lately. Eating healthier and drinking more water and less coffee and espressos and pop and all that other crap. Getting more exercise and extra sleep."

"Sleep?" Sam snorted. "What's that? And if you want exercise, come to my house and watch Kieran for an afternoon so I can get stuff. All his running around, he'll have you tired out in no time."

"All this greasy crap," Adam said forlornly, staring down at his plate.

"Hey, if you don't want it, I'll take it. I'm on a diet myself. A seafood diet."

He arched a quizzical eyebrow.

"I see food and I eat it," Sam quipped. "Get it? A see-food diet."

Adam pointed a fry at her. "That's lame," he declared.

"Maybe," she agreed. "But it's entirely true. Don is absolutely amazed that someone my size can eat as much as I can. And personally, if you ask me, I think you look just fine and you being on a diet is one of the stupidest things I've ever heard. I understand the whole exercise and sleep thing. Shit, I wish I could get more of that myself. But I think you look good, Peanut. And obviously Gussie does too or she wouldn't be with you."

Adam smiled. "You always seem to say the right things," he said, and dug into his food. "And it is amazing, you know. That you can eat that much."

"Well you know how it is," Sam said casually, as she dipped a slice of her grilled cheese sandwich into some mustard she'd squeezed onto the side of her plate. "I can eat pretty good under normal circumstances, but when I'm eating for two, look out. I can pack it away as good as any man."

Adam paused just as he was about to lift his burger to his mouth. The entire comment his sister had just made always went completely over his head. And she was sitting there so calmly, chewing on her sandwich and keeping an eye on her toddler son, that he actually wondered if she'd even said it.

"What did you just say?" he asked.

"I don't know," she replied. "What did it sound like I just said?"

"Sammie, you know what you said. Don't play games."

A smile tucked at the corner of her lips.

"You're pregnant?" Adam couldn't quite grasp the concept. "You and Flack are having another baby?"

"We found out on Christmas Eve," she said. "I took a home test and it was positive. We're not exactly sure how far along I am because things have been a little off as far as my cycle and all of that crap, but the test was positive."

"Another baby?" Adam was astounded. "So soon after Kieran?"

"He's almost a year old," Sam reminded her brother. "And even if I'm two months, he'll be just shy of nineteen months when I have the other one."

"But he's still a baby," Adam said. "How will you manage two?"

She frowned. "I thought you'd be happy for us."

"I am…of course I'm happy for you guys…it's just…surprising. Kieran's so little still and you have your hands full just with him and now another baby? That's insane. And you've known since Christmas Eve and you never told me?"

"We haven't really told anyone," Sam reasoned. "We've just told Don's parents and Gavin Moran and his wife. No one else knows. Not even mom and dad."

"The Morans knew before me?" Adam sounded hurt and disappointed.

"I'm sorry, Peanut. We weren't even going to tell anyone else until after I had an ultrasound to date it. But Don thought it was only right that we told you seeing as your Kieran and any other baby's biological uncle."

"Well at least one of you has a brain," Adam huffed and bit into his burger.

"We had our reasons, okay? We didn't do it to intentionally hurt you. I'm not even telling mom and dad before they go back to Phoenix. And I'd appreciate it if you kept it to yourself. No telling our parents, no telling Gussie and absolutely no spreading it around the lab."

"I don't see what the huge deal is," he said. "Why is it some big secret?"

"Adam, we want to keep it quiet for a while. Until we get the all clear from the doctor and we find out how far along I actually am. I don't see why it matters to you who we tell and who we don't tell. It's how we want to deal with things and I expect you to understand."

"I do understand," he assured her. "It's just…how do you keep something like that from everyone?"

"Because it's our wishes," Sam told him. "Look, we've had one major disappointment since Kieran was born that no one knows about. And no, before you ask, I'm not going to talk about it. So to avoid telling people and than having to go around and hand out bad news if things don't turn out well, we just want to keep it to ourselves until we found out how pregnant I am and than spread the news when I'm past the crucial first trimester. Okay?"

"You had a miscarriage?" Adam asked quietly. "Shortly after Kieran?"

"He was seven months old and things were screwy on the birth control end of things and I was pregnant and it didn't turn out. I was only two and a half months so…"

"Still sad," Adam reasoned. "Still a big loss."

"It's no big deal, Peanut. I wasn't that far along and honestly, Don and I weren't ready to have another baby at that time. We weren't ready, or prepared, at all. And it broke our hearts and we were disappointed when it happened, but in our hearts we figured maybe it was for the best. It was an accident and we didn't want to feel that way about our own child. Things happen for a reason. Or at least, that's how we saw it."

"So you would have had an abortion or gave it up for adoption?" Adam sounded mortified.

"Of course not. No. It was our baby and we would have loved it just the same and taken good care of it. We just…" she sighed heavily. "Do we really have to talk about this? It happened. Simple as that. Can't we talk about this baby that I'm expecting? About how overjoyed and excited we are? Can't we concentrate on that?"

"Of course," Adam told her. "Sorry, I didn't mean…"

"So I called my doctor and I go and get the blood work and urinalysis done in two weeks and they've booked me for an ultrasound at the end of January," Sam said, abruptly changing the subject. "And I was thinking that because it's on the same Friday that Don leaves for that police services leadership conference in Cincinnati and his flight leaves at two and the appointment is at three, that maybe you wouldn't mind filling in for him and coming with me?"

"You serious?" Adam asked.

She nodded and helped herself to one of his fries. "I mean, you don't have to if you don't want to…"

"Are you crazy? Of course I want to. I'd love to see something like that. Especially seeing I'm not planning on ever experiencing it personally with Gussie. I'm just surprised you'd ask me and not Carmen."

Sam frowned. "Why would I ask Carmen over you?" she asked.

"Well she is your best friend," Adam reasoned.

"True," Sam agreed. "And I love her dearly. But you're my baby brother and I love you even more."

Adam felt himself choke up a little at her honest, heartfelt words.

"We've been through a lot together, Peanut and when I got married and became a mommy, I know that the times we spent together have been few and far between."

"You are a mommy, Sammie. And a wife. Don and Kieran come first. I understand that."

"But you're still my Peanut," she told him. "And there's no one outside of my husband that I would love to share the moment with than you."

Adam smiled brightly.

"And God willing, this baby won't be as much of a hellion as this one is," Sam said, and turning to Kieran, stuck her tongue out and blew a raspberry at him.

He giggled and stuck his own tongue out and blew a raspberry right back at her.

"You know," Adam said, taking a sip of his bottle water in an attempt to wash down the lump of emotion in his throat. "You're doing an amazing job, Sammie."

"Thanks, Peanut," she smiled. "Means a lot to hear you say that. I doubt myself a lot. On my abilities as a mother. And a wife. Sometimes the wife part especially."

"Well don't," he said. "Because if you're pregnant, than obviously your living up to at least one part of your wifely duties."

She laughed and grabbed one of her fries and tossed it at him. "Pig. You're easily influenced. You've been hanging around Don way too much."

"Now there's a pretty face I haven't seen in a while." Sid commented as he appeared at the side of the table in his usual navy blue scrub set and his glasses hanging around his neck. A take out container of food in one hand and an extra large cup of coffee in the other. A copy of that day's Times tucked under his left arm.

"I just saw you this morning," Adam said.

"Well as appealing as you are to some, I wouldn't exactly refer to you as pretty," Sid teased him. "I was talking about your lovely sister."

"I've been on holidays," Sam told him, pulling out the chair on her left hand side and motioning for him to have a seat. "Join us?"

"I can't really stay long," he said apologetically. "I have a new pathologist downstairs and she's just learning the ropes and I feel a little nervous leaving her alone in my humble abode for too long. I wondered why I hadn't seen you down in the dungeon lately. I was beginning to think you didn't like my company."

"Trust me, Sid," Sam laughed. "I'd rather hang out down there with you and the DB's than stare at fibre samples and trace evidence all day. You miss me?"

"You really have to ask that? No one else ever thinks of bringing me down a coffee or a snack. Hence why I'm up here in this chaotic mess to begin with. Did you have a good Christmas?"

"It was eventful," Sam told him. "A little noisy and crazy but we had a great time. You?"

"I worked unfortunately," he said with a sigh. "But I did make a fabulous dinner for Boxing Day. Duck orange with butter and herb scalloped potatoes and julienne carrotts with a lovely citrus and amaretto glaze."

"Sid," Sam said as she sipped her pop. "If we weren't already married to other people, I'd say let's run off and elope. Because you are speaking my language."

"Well you know," he cleared his throat and winked at her playfully. "There are some religions that find it perfectly acceptable to have more than one spouse. So if we both converted to one of them, we'd be free to run off and get married right away."

"Please do not flirt with my sister," Adam sounded, and looked disgusted. "At least not in front of me."

"As soon as I get divorced, Sid, I promise I will come looking for you," Sam teased.

"Well you know where to find me. All in all, my holidays were busy as well. Not completely enjoyable, but I can't really complain when I'm spending time with my wife and my daughters. And of course, in your case, Christmas is always fun with little ones around the house. Detective Flack gave you the gift certificate from me and my wife?"

Sam nodded. "It was very nice of you, Sid. And Toys R Us is Kieran's second place next to McDonalds. My husband didn't give you my thanks?"

"His, but not yours," Sid said.

Sam snorted. "Why am I not surprised. He just doesn't remember stuff like that. He can remember his first girlfriend's phone number and the name of the first girl he kissed way back in second grade but he can't remember important things."

"I just hope you can put the certificate to good use," Sid told her. "Kids are so hard to buy for. How is he doing?"

"He's a hellion," Sam responded, as the ME sat his belongings on the table and squatted down in front of the high chair. And immediately began to make hilarious faces and noises that the baby found absolutely hysterical.

She had been somewhat shocked when, after Kieran was born, Sid had showed up at the hospital the afternoon following his birth and had picked the newborn up with such grace and ease. She had never expected Sid to be a natural with babies. Kieran had simply stared up at the new face with those big blue eyes and curled his fingers around one of Sid's when the man offered it to him. And when Sid had lifted the tiny baby to his chest, Kieran had wasted no time in snuggling right in and falling fast asleep. Even now, Sid just seemed to have that touch. He was patient and funny and full of so much love. And Kieran just sparkled and shined whenever the man was around.

"Dis!" Kieran exclaimed, and picking up a ketchup covered fry, all but reached out and shoved it in Sid's mouth.

"Kieran!" Sam scolded. "Don't do that!"

"That's okay," Sid assured, speaking more to the baby than her. "I just love French fries with lots of ketchup too."

And than he gobbled up the fry offered to him and pretending to eat Kieran's hand, all the way down to wrist. Which the toddler found exceptionally funny and let out a huge belly laugh that seemed to go on forever and caused his entire tiny body to shake.

"You are a God," Adam declared, staring at the ME in disbelief and awe.

"Children are nothing but pure joy and love, Mister Ross," Sid declared, as he ran a hand over Kieran's hair and stood up. "And he's the closest thing I have to a grandchild of my own so I enjoy each and every time I see him. And I hope his mother was at least going to call me and ask me to come upstairs for a little visit before she left to head home."

"I swear, Sid, I would not have left without letting you see your honorary grandson," Sam assured him.

"'Gan!" Kieran squealed, tugging at Sid's pants. "'Gan!"

"He wants you to do it again," Sam said, playing interpreter.

"Well unfortunately, Master Kieran, as much as I would love to stay with you here all day eating chicken fingers and fries, I have to get back to work," Sid told the baby reluctantly. "However, if your mommy will allow it, I do have a treat I could share with you."

"By all means," Sam said.

Sid stood up and opened his take out container and took out a piece of chocolate brownie which he split in half. He placed the one piece back with his lunch and sat the other on the high chair tray.

Kieran's eyes widened as he stared down at it.

"Say thank you, Kieran," Sam said to her son, and when he glanced up at her, she placed the finger tips of her right hand to her lips and brought her hand out as if blowing a kiss. "Thank you."

The baby smiled brightly and repeated her action.

"Good boy," Sam praised and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. "We use some baby sign," she explained to Sid. "Because he's been having such a hard time with speech because of all the fluid in his ears preventing him from hearing what we say properly."

"I've heard many say that sign helps babies learn to communicate better," Sid said.

"Well we swear by it," Sam told him. "And for some reason, it seems to help Don communicate better too. Although the middle finger seems to be the sign he prefers more than others."

"For some reason that does not surprise me," Sid laughed. "I've heard some of his communication skills on occasion and let me say, they are colourful at best. Well, I should go," he sighed dramatically. "Death is unfortunately a full time business and shows no mercy. I have a full house downstairs. Take care, Samantha. Have a wonderful New Year."

"You too, Sid," she said, standing up and pecking his cheek. "All the best to you and your wife and your daughters."

"Thank you," he kissed her cheek in return. "See you in a few days. Adam, I should have some stomach contents for you to analyse in an hour or so."

"You can't do that downstairs?" Adam asked.

"I could," Sid replied. "But I'd like to be done work sometime before next year. Which…" he consulted his watch. "Is less than ten and a half hours away. So I better get going."

"BYE!" Kieran cried out as Sid headed away. "BYE-BYE!!"

Sid turned and offered the baby a wave.

Kieran giggled and blew his friend a noisy kiss.

Sid pretended to catch it and tuck it into the breast pocket of his scrub shirt and than gave a smile before making his way through the crowded cafeteria.

"I think you're kid has a split personality," Adam commented to his sister, nodding in the direction of his smiling, bubbly nephew who was now kicking his legs excitedly and energetically and eyeing up the piece of chocolate brownie on his tray.

Kieran noticed his mother watching him, gave her a cheeky smile and a wink and proceeded to pick up the brownie in his already messy, sticky hands, and shove the entire thing in his mouth. Chocolate ended up everywhere. Down his neck, in his hair, up his nose.

"Mother of God," Adam shook his head at the hideous mess.

Kieran laughed heartily at the entire incident and began rubbing his hair with his chocolate covered hands.

"That is so gross," Sam groaned, and clutched her stomach. "I'll be right back," she quickly stood up. "I'm goin to be sick."

Both Adam and Kieran watched wide eyed as she rushed for the nearest exit.

Adam looked at his nephew.

"Mommeee?" Kieran asked, and shrugged his tiny shoulders.

"Can you say mommy and daddy should have used birth control the second time around?" Adam asked his nephew.

Kieran blew a raspberry at his uncle and went back to creating a masterpiece of chocolate and left over chicken fingers and fries and ketchup all over himself and the high chair.

Adam sighed and stood up and reached for the knapsack dangling from the handles of the stroller. He zipped open the bag and rummaged through it for the Clean and Go wipes and yanked out a handful.

"I love you, Kieran," Adam said, as he attempted to clean the squirming toddler's face. "But this is just another one of those instances that confirms to me that Auntie Gus and I will never give you a cousin."

It was quarter to seven in the evening when Flack finally arrived home. It had been a long day. Four hours stuck in court. An hour spent waiting for the public defender to get his head out of his ass and actual show up to represent his defendant. Another hour and a half on the stand testifying for the prosecution and than thirty minutes of listening to an asshole defense attorney babbling and asking the same stupid, idiotic questions over and over again. So repetitive , that Flack had rolled his eyes when he was asked something for the fifth time in a row. A move that had the moron lawyer accuse him of having an attitude problem. Which than resulted in Flack and both the lawyers being hauled into the judges' chambers and lectured on their apparent lack of professionalism.

No sooner did he get back from the courthouse, he and Scagnetti caught a call on a B and E gone bad in Riverdale. Only it wasn't the home owners that were lying face down in a pool of their own blood in the middle of the immaculate living room. It was the intruder himself. He'd apparently picked the wrong place to break into you. The home owner had been in the den when he'd heard the glass of the dining room patio door shatter.

Instead of locking himself in said den and calling the cops, He had calmly opened the top drawer of his dresser, grabbed a key to the locked display case across the room that held his hunting rifles, took one out and loaded it and surprised the perp as the baddie was attempting to swipe his plasma tv and some sterling silver flatware. He'd also surprised the perp with a shot gun blast to the chest.

As much as Flack admired the man's balls and tenacity for sticking up for himself and protecting his home, he still had to arrest him. He had called it manslaughter but would let the District Attorney sort the shit out. If it was up to Flack, he'd be slapping the guy on the back and thanking him for making his own life a little easier by sparing the world of one less asshole for him to waste his valuable time on.

He toed his shoes off in the hallway next to his apartment door and fished his keys from the pocket of his heavy wool winter coat. He paused, the key in the lock and listened closely. It wasn't something he heard that made him stop in his tracks. It was what he didn't hear. Usually, at that time of the evening, his place was a haven for noise and activity. Kieran either laughing and babbling and shrieking at the top of his lungs while playing with his mother or a some annoying toy he owned. Sam's quiet, patient voice encouraging their son to keep the noise level down just a bit. The tv or the radio blaring. And for the last week, his constantly bickering in laws.

Tonight there was nothing save for music playing a respectable volume on the stereo in the living room and the soft clinking of glasses and dishes in the kitchen. And there was an incredible, mouth watering smell drifting out into the hallway.

He unlocked the door and opened it and slipped inside. He was hanging his coat and suit jacket in the hall closet when Sam poked her head out of the kitchen door.

"Hi," she greeted cheerfully.

"Hi…" he responded hesitantly. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," she said, and disappeared into the kitchen once more. "How was your day?" she asked.

"Long," Flack replied, as he loosened his tie and undid the top two buttons on his shirt.

"Which is a code word for 'I don't want to talk about it'," she concluded.

He grinned. "You know me better than I know myself some days," he told her and headed into the kitchen. He was about to ask her where everyone was when one glimpse at her prevented all words from escaping his lips.

There, peeking into the oven to check on a prime rib dinner she was preparing, was his wife with her hair done up in luxurious, bouncy curls, a slight touch of make up on her face and clad in a sparkling silver sleeveless top with a dangerously low cut back and a black skirt that just reached below her knee and was split to her mid thigh on one side. She was barefoot. Her toenails done up in the same silver as her top. For some reason, seeing her in her barefeet like that just added to the overall sexiness she exuded.

"What?" she asked, when she closed the oven door and stood up and found her husband watching her intently.

"You are such a MILF," Flack declared in all seriousness.

She frowned and grabbed the dish towel sitting on the counter by the sink and slapped him in the stomach with it. "Pervert," she complained, and set back to work on the salad she'd been preparing when she'd heard him come through the door.

"I can't help it. You are," he said, and standing behind her, pushed her hair to the side of pressed a kiss to the back of her neck. "You're beautiful, Samantha."

She smiled.

"So why all this?" he asked, going to the fridge and opening it and taking out a bottle of water. "I thought we weren't going anywhere tonight."

"We aren't," she responded. "But my parents are gone until tomorrow and your mom is bringing Kieran home sometime tomorrow afternoon, and it is New Years. So I just thought it would be nice to dress up for you, make a nice meal."

"It is nice," he agreed. "Your day was okay? You're feeling alright?"

"I've been nauseous all day but other than that I've been okay. Why?"

He shrugged. "Just thought maybe you had a really high fever that was making you delirious and causing you to do things you wouldn't normally do. Like say…cook."

"You're such a prick," she said, but she was smiling at his teasing.

"Seriously, though. Your day was okay?"

"My day was hell on earth," she told him. "That pre-op appointment? I'm never going alone again, Donnie. Kieran was a terror. He was uncontrollable. From the time I had to undress him for them to weigh him, to the time we got the hell out of there. Screaming and yelling and carrying on. I think he gave everyone in the place a migraine. You should have seen the way people were staring at me. And the other mothers…you know, the type who have to offer up disciplinarian advice?"

"Did you tell them to fuck off?" Flack asked. "Because I would have. He's a year old. He can't be a complete angel all the time. Unless we drug him of course."

"One mother suggested that. She suggest Ritalin and an anti-psychotic med."

"That's just what a I want. My kid being a junkie before he gets into kindergarten. You say anything?"

"I told her to mind her own fucking business."

"That's my girl," he praised, a broad girl on her face.

"Than she told me it was very clear where my son got his attitude from. Can you believe that? That someone would actually say that? It took all I had not to lay her out right there and than."

"You should have," Flack said, sipping his water.

"But to suggest that he is the way he is because of me? Isn't that just stupid?"

He didn't respond.

She looked over at him, her eyes narrowed. "You agree with her?"

"I didn't say anything," Flack held his hands up in self defence.

"That's the point. You didn't say anything. You didn't disagree."

"I didn't agree either," he pointed out.

"So you think Kieran's attitude problem comes from me," she concluded, and grabbed the finished bowl of salad and carried it to the fridge.

"I never said that. I just think he has a lot of characteristics that he obviously gets from you. I mean, look at how vocal he is. For lack of a better word. You can deny it all you want, Samantha. He gets that from you. And his lack of patience and the way he throws a fit if he can't have everything he wants…"

"Kids throw temper tantrums," she huffed. "It's what they do."

"Thirty-three year old women throw them too?" he asked curiously.

"I do not throw temper tantrums," she argued, and opened the top drawer by the stove to take out some silver ware. Than tossed the forks and knives on the counter with a clatter and slammed the drawer closed.

Flack arched an eyebrow and took a swig of water. "My point exactly," he said.

"Don't say anyting else," she warned.

"Look, Kieran's a mixture of both of us okay. From the way he looks to the way he acts. Okay, so maybe not so much the way he looks because as much as I know it pains you to hear it so much, he looks just like me."

"Yes…I know," she said snidely. "You have to remind me everyday? It's not enough I have to think it every time I look at him? He's insanely attractive like you and not at all dumpy and plain like his mother. I get it."

Flack frowned. "I never said that. Don't be like that. Don't put yourself down when I'm just trying to have some fun with you."

"It's been a long day, okay!" she snapped. "From the time he got up all he did was fight with me! I made him breakfast and he wouldn't eat it. I had to have a wrestling match with him just to get him out of his pyjamas and into some clothes! I have more bruises and bite marks on me than I care to tell you about. And before you say some dirty, pervish comment, no, it's not the same damn thing as when you leave those kinds of marks. He was the devil child from the time he got up until the time your mother picked him up! And you know what, as soon as she got here and went over to him, he became this sweet, innocent little angel. And that drives me fucking crazy! Why is he so bad for me but so good for you and everyone else?"

"Maybe because he spends all of his time with you and knows he can, and how to, push your buttons more," Flack reasoned, reaching out to rub her shoulder softly. "I don't know. Just calm down, Samantha. Just because some bitch at the hospital couldn't keep her nose out of your business, there's no need to freak out. Okay?"

"It's not just that. It's everything! It's the way he is and the way I am and that whole appointment. I can't do things like that alone, you know that! You're the strong one that keeps calm during those things."

"Well I gotta work, Sammie," he reminded her gently.

"I know that. Don't treat me like I'm stupid. I just…I need some help sometimes. You don't know what he's like because you're not around that much. And yes, I know how hard your job is and what shitty hours you work and I don't expect you to give up your career. And I accept that Kieran and I come second some times. It's just…I can't do stuff like that alone. I'm a shitty mother, okay? Why don't we just be completely honest with ourselves and admit to it now."

"Sam, you're just upset. You're an amazing mother. I tell you that all the time. And I'm sorry he was such a shit head all day. And next time, I'll try and get the day off or at least make it to his appointments. I can't promise you that I can do either, though."

"I know," she said. "And on top of everything else I've been sick all day and I'm hormonal as all hell and I'm just plain bitchy. So maybe you should have either stayed at work or gone out for the night. Because I'm not going to be the best company."

"Only place I wanna be is here," he told her, and pushed a piece of hair behind her ear. "Even if you are a raging bitch."

She managed a smile. "I called the doctor. About the baby."

"And?"

"I go for all the tests in a couple of weeks," she told him. "And the ultrasound is scheduled for January 28th."

He frowned. "I leave the twenty-eight for Cincinnati. You couldn't make it for another time?"

"It was the earliest appointment they had available," she told him. "And the next time was for the middle of February."

"That's not so bad. Can't we wait until than? I'd kind of like to be there."

"I'd rather know sooner than later how far along I am," she reasoned. Seeing the disappointment on his face, she stepped in front of him and laid her hands on his side. "I can scan any pictures they give me and e-mail them to you. You're taking your lap top and there's internet access in your room."

"Not the same thing, Sammie."

"I know. But I just think we should know as soon as possible. And end of January is as soon as possible. And Adam said he'd come with me so it's not like I'd be experiencing it alone. I mean, I'd much rather you be there. But you can't skip that conference. So Adam I figure is a pretty decent stand in. He is the biological uncle."

"True," Flack said. "Still though, I did kinda want to go with you. That first ultrasound we had with Kieran? That was amazing."

She smiled. "There will be other ultrasounds with this baby," she pointed out.

"Yeah…but there's only one first one," he said. "I understand though. And I agree. It is better to find out sooner than later," he pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I should go and get showered and changed."

"Why? You're dressed up. You're already in a shirt and tie."

"I've been at work all day," he reminded her, setting the half full bottle of water down on the counter. "I probably stink."

She leaned into him and sniffed his shirt. "I think you smell like a man. My man."

There was something insanely sexy about the way she said that. And the way her body was fitted against his. Those curves that seemed, from the moment he'd first kissed her close to two years ago, to just mould into his body so perfectly. Her warmth and her smell and the feel of her breasts pressed against him was all so familiar and routine, yet just as welcoming and alluring as they were from the onset of their relationship. Simply being with her there in the kitchen, with those golden eyes sparkling up at him and the soft smile on her plush lips, was enough to take his breath away.

She often asked him if he'd ever be tired of her. If one day he'd look at her and just decide that he was bored. That her body and their love making no longer held any sort of attraction or excitement. He always told her how ridiculous that way. Because he loved her more and more with each passing day and could never imagine being with anyone but her. And every time they were together intimately was amazing and mind blowing and filled him with a sense of completeness and ease. Losing himself in her overwhelmed his senses. And he knew, without a doubt, that he'd feel that way forty, fifty years from now.

He kissed her. Soft and slow at first. Her mouth warm and succulent against his. He rested one hand on her hip and the other on the back of her neck. He heard the content sigh she expelled against his lips and than the press of her tongue against his teeth. It wasn't often that she was the initiator. He was usually the one making the first move, making it obvious what he wanted and than taking the steps to make sure he got it. She preferred to the be the submissive one. Hell, she got off on it. So for her to even make a small move like that took it by surprise. He tangled his fingers in her hair and devoured her mouth with his. Tongues meeting and merging as he backed her up against the refrigerator door.

He felt her hands move from his sides to the front of him, impatiently tugging his shirt from his pants and than reaching underneath the quickly, and effortlessly, undo his belt.

The kiss broke when it became necessary to draw in air to their breathless lungs. They were panting, hearts racing, their eyes, filled with want and desire and most of all love, locked steadily on each other.

"How much time before dinner's ready?" he asked, as she snapped open the button on his pants and her fingers fell on the zipper.

She gave that devilish, alluring grin she was such a pro at and removed her hands from the front of his pants.

"Enough," she said, and grabbing his hand tightly, pulled him in the direction of the living room.

Thanks to everyone that is reading and reviewing. I appreciate each and every one of you! And thanks to all of those adding this story, and MOB, to their alerts. I love hearing from you guys and please, feel free to drop a review if you like these stories. Thanks!

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