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

A/N: I KNOW, IT'S A WEIRD TITLE. BUT LAURZZ KNOWS THE MEANING BEHIND THE TERM, OR NICKNAME, S AND M.

SPECIAL, WARM WELCOMES TO: Dlfan04 and Kassandra J

AND HUGE THANKS TO HOPE4SALL AND LAURZZ FOR ALL THE SUPPORT

WARNING: EXTREME FLUFF ALERT THROUGH MOST OF THE CHAP. AND JUST GENEREAL SAMFLACKIE HUMOR.

An introduction to S and M

"She's got every quality
From A all the way to Z
It's easy to see she's the perfect girl
She's got every single thing
That makes up my wildest dreams
Sometimes I still can't quite believe she's holdin' me cause

She got it all
My heart, my soul, my wishes
All of my love, my hugs, my kisses
Everything that means anything at all
All of my life I've spent a hopin'
I could give someone such devotion
Every sweet memory I can recall
She got it all

You know that I admit
That someone to love like this
Only existed in my prayers
Until I saw her face
I knew I'd found the place."
-She's Got it All, Kenny Chesney

"The score's three to one," Lindsay announced, from where she sat perched on the top of the couch in Flack's living room.

She was clad in a simple white t-shirt of Danny's and a pair of baby blue yoga sweats that Sam had treated her to on a recent shopping excursion to Lu Lu Lemon. The store, and its wears, were Sam's first and foremost addiction. Her own closet was practically bursting with pants and capris and hoodies and tees from the place. And the moment that Lindsay had tried on a pair of her new best friend's sweats, she knew that she just had to have a pair of her own. The fabric and fit were just heavenly and Lindsay had wondered, after refusing to give up those pastel pink sweats of Sam's, how she'd ever survived without the clothing.

Or Sam for that matter.

It had been two weeks since the Lessing incident. Fourteen days since Lindsay had saved Flack's, and ultimately her own and Kieran's, life. Eight days since the entire Flack family had been released from the hospital. Another three since Flack had not only been given the okay to go ahead and get on a plane, but had picked up, much to his dismay, the glasses that the eye specialist declared he needed to wear from the time he got up until the time he went to bed at night. So far, the only time he managed to get them onto his face was when Sam was in the room or he knew he was going to get busted by someone for not wearing them.

Currently, due to Lindsay's persistent and annoying nagging, he did in deed have them on. A simple pair of glasses with a silver blue frame across the top of the lenses only. Although Danny ribbed him about being the second four eyes in the 'family', both Lindsay and Sam were quite surprised at how Flack looked in glasses. The color of the frames made his blue eyes stand out and he did indeed, cross the line from adorkable to dashing quite easily.

It had taken Sam a day to adjust to her husband's new look. First a brush cut and than glasses? She had joked she had no idea where the man she had married had up and disappeared to.

It had also taken all of them used to living under the same roof. Roomies, as Danny called it. Although sleeping on a pull out was losing its appeal and he and Linds were in active search of an apartment together. Erica had throw her expected hissy fit when she'd come home the day after the Flack's had been released from the hospital and caught Danny and Flack packing and moving out all of Danny's things. She'd ranted and raved and bitched and moaned and bawled her eyes out. In the end she'd threatened to get some high priced lawyer that would make sure Danny never saw his child and would be paying the highest amount of child support possible. To which Flack had replied, bring it, and tossed the card belonging to Danny's lawyer at her. An attorney that was equally as impressive and ten times as ruthless as anyone Erica possibly knew.

After that she'd changed her cell phone and home number and had quit her job. Visits to her apartment went unanswered and they were pretty sure that she had hooked back up with her ex. No one seemed to be able to track her down, so Danny's lawyer had gone all out and hired a private investigator to find her. So far, there was no news of where she was or who she was with. But her actions, the lawyer believed, were enough to secure Danny his child once it was born.

Life had certainly changed. For everything in that crowded, hectic two bedroom apartment. But they all couldn't imagine not being there and being in each others lives.

"No way, Monroe," Flack said, from where he was on his knees in the middle of the living room floor. The coffee table pushed across the room, as he and Kieran, armed with small plastic sticks and a tennis ball, engaged in a little one on one hockey action. Magazines laid on the hardwood to represent goal posts. "There is no way that he's got three goals."

"I am the score keeper, Don," she argued. "And I know how to count. Kieran has three goals and you have one."

"How is that even possible? He's just running around whacking at the tennis ball."

"I know what I saw," she said. "And I saw him get three goals. Quit whining and just play already, right K?"

"Wight," the toddler agreed, as he chopped at the ball with his stick.

"You better not be counting that last goal," Flack said. "Because that did not go in."

"It did!" Lindsay argued. "I saw it!"

"It hit the post and bounced in. That is not a goal."

"It's a goal in the NHL," she said.

"Well this isn't the NHL," Flack told her. "So that was not a goal."

"Accept it, Don! An almost fourteen month old is beating you. Suck it up."

"Yeah, daddy..." Kieran chimed in. "Uck up."

Flack's eyes widened and Lindsay giggled.

"What did you just say?" he asked his son.

"Uck up!" he repeated.

"I thought for a second there he said fuck," Flack said to Lindsay.

"Fuck," Kieran chirped, smacking his stick down on the ground. "Fuck..fuck..fuck...FUCK!"

Lindsay nearly fell backwards off the couch from laughing so hard. More from the expression on Flack's face and his lame attempts to explain to his son why he couldn't say that word and what would happen to daddy if mommy heard that, than at Kieran actually saying such a word.

After she'd managed to compose herself and they continued the game, Kieran, the proud winner of the match with four goals to his name, announced that he was "Dirsty" and they moved into the kitchen.

"Looking forward to leaving on your vacation tomorrow?" Lindsay asked, as she sat at the cluttered kitchen table and flipped through a stack of fliers that had arrived with that day's mail.

"A bit," Flack replied, as he went to the fridge and took out a bottle of apple prune drink for Kieran.

The doctor had explained that one of the side effects to the trauma that he had suffered was that he may regress with certain behaviors. First if was the thumb sucking. Now it was sleeping with a night light on and drinking from a bottle. He also had to drink, or eat, anything that would soften his bowel movements because of the excessive pain he suffered from just trying to go to the bathroom. The damage done to him had been almost the worst the examining doctor had ever seen.

"Just a bit?" Lindsay arched an eyebrow. "I would have thought after every thing that's gone down you would have loved to get out of the city."

"Getting out of the city is just what we all need," he said. "It's getting out of the city and going to my in law's that doesn't sit right with me."

"I thought you and Sam's step dad were buddies now."

"We are," Flack said, handing Kieran the bottle of juice. Watching his son as he took the drink and than toddled off to his favorite spot, the scatter mat on the floor in front of the sink. He plopped down on the rug and leaned back against the cupboards behind him and planted his feet on the floor and sat there, knees bent, drinking his bottle.

"Does he always do that?" Lindsay asked curiously.

Flack nodded and joined her at the table. "Since he was about eight months old. He just started doing it one day. Sam handed him a bottle and he just lied down on the floor while she did the dishes and that was the beginning of it. He does it every time he has a drink. Even if it's a sippy cup."

"He's just got the cutest little personality," Lindsay commented, watching her adorable nephew with a smile on her face. "Just the ways he does things and his expressions and mannerisms. It's hard to say who he reminds me of. Personality wise. I mean, looks? He's you from head to toe. But personality..."

"He is all his mother, Monroe," Flack told her without hesitation. "No doubt about it. Personality wise, he's all Sam. Think about it. He's phenomenally smart just like her, he's sensitive just like her, he never shuts up just like her. He talks constantly. Is that not exactly like his mother? I've told you about her habit of waking me up from a dead sleep to have chats with me, have I not?"

Lindsay nodded.

"My wife and my kid...I love them to death. I do. But they drive me goddamn mental sometimes. Especially the wife."

"Especially the wife what?" Sam asked, yawning noisily as she journeyed into the kitchen, pulling her hair back and into a ponytail and securing it with an hair elastic she pulled from the pocket of her favorite pink yoga sweats. When she moved, her black t-shirt stretched across her abdomen and showed off the beginnings of her baby bump.

"Whoa," Lindsay said, reaching out to rub her friend's tummy. "I don't remember seeing that when you went to lie down."

"Every two hours that goes by, I put on five pounds," Sam lamented. She stood behind Flack's chair and placed her hands on his shoulders and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. "It's all his fault," she told Lindsay, pointing down at her husband before kissing his cheek and heading for the fridge.

"Yep...that's right," Flack agreed, snagging the pile of mail from the middle of the table. "I was the only one having sex that night. It was all me."

"I can't believe I come out here and you're actually wearing your glasses," Sam commented, yanking open the fridge.

"Monroe's been on my ass about them all day while you've been sleeping and pampering yourself. Getting your beauty sleep. And getting lazy."

"Hey!" Sam pointed a scolding finger at him. "It's perfectly acceptable to be a lazy pregnant woman, okay? And I'm not just any pregnant woman. I've got three to carry around and make me fat. So you just hush. What were you saying about me when I came in?"

"I was telling Monroe how much I love you and how I would lay down and die for you," Flack told her, tearing into one of the many bills.

"Sure...is that after you smother me in my sleep?"

"Sammie, I have told you this a million times," Flack sighed dramatically. "I am going to either drop a plugged in hair dryer into the tub while you're taking a bath or slip arsenic in your tea. Get it right."

"My mistake," she said. "Donnie?" she whined.

"Christ...you just get up and you start? What do you want?"

"What are you making for dinner?" she asked curiously.

"Me? Are you not the wife in this house? Is that not your job? To cook me meals? Get with it, Sammie. It's only four thirty. There's lots of time to think about supper and what you're going to make."

"Just for that, I'm on strike," she declared, and grabbed a tub of strawberry yogurt from the top shelf.

"You're on strike every day," Flack sighed.

"Ha, ha, ha," Sam snorted, pulling open the top drawer by the stove and taking out a spoon. Before going to the long, slender pantry cabinet by the table and opening and grabbing a bag of whole wheat pita bread she'd already sliced into sixes. "You are so funny, honey. I married you for your sense of humor, you know."

"Thought you married me for my eyes and my ass," he said.

"You are sorely mistaken," Sam told him as she joined him, and a highly amused Lindsay at the table and sat down. "I actually married you strictly for your mad oral skills."

"Did you really have to say that in front of Lindsay?" he asked, tossing the car insurance bill aside.

"What?" Sam arched an eyebrow as she peeled off the lid of the yogurt and sat it on the table. "You're suddenly shy?"

"Don't worry, Flack," Lindsay got up to grab her own spoon before sitting back down and digging into the tub of yogurt. "I heard all those noises this morning. I couldn't resist asking Sam just what it was you were doing to bring on noises like that."

"For twenty bucks an hour I can give Messer lessons," Flack offered.

"How about for twenty five he gives you lessons?" Lindsay teased.

Flack smirked. The tips of his ears rapidly turning red. Giving away his embarrassment.

Sam nearly spit a mouthful of yogurt across the table and dissolved into laughter.

"I am seriously outnumbered at the moment," Flack complained. "Kieran...come here and stick up for daddy."

"What's he going to do?" Sam asked. "Bite my ankles? You know what he did this morning? Other than playing with his you know what when I was changing him?"

"It's normal, Sammie," Flack told her. "How many times are you going to complain about it?"

"I know it's normal," she said, dipping a piece of pita in the yogurt. "I mean, you do it all the time."

Lindsay burst out laughing. She had to cover her mouth with the palm of her hand to keep the food in and was soon making snorting noises from her nose and her face was bright red and tears streamed down her face.

"I swear, Sam, if I didn't love you as much as I do, you'd be wearing that yogurt," Flack declared.

"You know," she pointed her spoon at him. "That actually could be really kinky."

"Excuse me," Lindsay squeaked from behind her hand and jumped up. Laughing so hard she was coughing and sputtering and had to dispose of the contents in her mouth into the garbage under the sink.

"Now look what you did," Flack said, as he ripped open the hydro bill. "You've gone and killed our house guest."

"Linds isn't a guest," Sam argued. "She's a part of the family. It's why she helps out as much as she does."

"You two are too much," Lindsay declared, composing herself enough to return to the table.

"We're just a whole ball of crazy!" Sam cried. "Never a dull moment in the Flack house is there, honey?!"

"Oh yeah...it's just like the Cleavers only on LSD and crack," he quipped.

"Well gee, Wally," Sam said in her best Beaver voice. "What's that stuff you're smoking out of that crazy little glass pipe there? Can I have a hit? Can I? Can I?"

"Jesus Christ," Lindsay giggled and buried her face in her hands. "Sam...you're... I don't know what you are..."

"Crazy," Flack said. "Mental...insane..loco...take your pick."

"You love me!" Sam cried and put her feet in his lap.

"I never said I didn't love my insane wife," he said and winked at her. "Whose costing me a mint in car insurance by the way!" he held up the bill.

"It was just one small accident," Sam told him. "Just a small one. I swear I did not think the car was in reverse when I stepped on the gas."

"She rear ends someone in the Target parking lot," Flack told Lindsay. "Because she has a license but drives worth a shit! And she'd only had the car for a month. A month! You know what the payments are on a Pontiac G-5?"

Lindsay shook her head.

"Nearly four and a half a month. On top of her insurance. She couldn't just get a used car."

"Never!" Sam declared. "It's the car I wanted!"

"I want a lot of things too. Millions of dollars, a penthouse, a Bentley, that Rachel Bilson chick as my mistress..."

"Like she'd ever have anything to do with your sorry ass," Sam snorted.

"Hey, she might have a cop fetish for all we know."

"Well if she does," Sam said. "The next time she comes over, get her to bring over Justin Timberlake for me, would ya?"

"I thought it was Mister President that you were crushing on lately," Flack commented. "You tell Linds about how your jonesin' for the commander and chief?"

Lindsay nodded. "He is rather handsome and charming," she said.

"Sam wants to be the First Lady," Flack told her. "Kick Michelle out and have him all to herself."

"Never mind First Lady!" Sam laughed. "I want to be Obama's Monica Lewinsky."

"Just promise me you won't keep the stained little black dress in the back of our closet as a souvenir," Flack said.

"You're disturbed!" Sam declared. "It was actually the cigar I was going to keep."

"You are one sick and twisted human being you know that?" Flack asked as Lindsay rolled with laughter beside him, her head on the table. "Getting all your kinkiness and your perverted shit out before we get to your parents tomorrow or what?"

Sam nodded and dipped her finger into the yogurt and slowly licked it off with the tip of her tongue. "Let's just say you are going to be one very lucky man later on," she said. "Seeing as I need to get all the sex out of my system before we leave."

"Mile high club, baby," Flack grinned. "I told you that already. If you're cutting me off for three weeks you're putting out in the airplane bathroom."

"You guys aren't going to have sex for three weeks?" Lindsay lifted her head, her eyes wide. "Why the hell not?"

"Because Sam's crazy mother doesn't let us fornicate in her house," Flack told her, gathering all the bills up and arranging them in a neat stack and setting them on the table.

"Are you serious?" Lindsay asked. "You're in your thirties and married and she doesn't want you guys having sex?"

Flack nodded. "Last time we went, she made us sleep in separate rooms."

Lindsay frowned. "Why? You're married. Why in the hell...?"

"Because she hates me," Flack said. "She doesn't want me fornicating with her daughter."

"Would you stop using that word!" Sam giggled. "That word drives me nuts."

"Why?" he asked. "It's what it is."

"I know. But who in the hell uses that word? Fornicates? Seriously. Just say what it really is."

"What do you want me to say? She doesn't want me to fuck her daughter?"

Kieran popped his bottle out of his mouth. "FUCK!" he shrieked and burst into a fit of giggles.

"Donald!" Sam cried. "What in the hell?!"

"It's not my fault he repeats everything," Flack said.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck," their toddler son singsonged.

"Jesus!" Sam slapped a hand to her forehead. "Donald! Stop him from saying that! He's going to start that on the plane! Or worse in front of my parents or my grandparents if they come by!"

"So?" Flack asked. "So what if he says fuck?"

"I do! It's bad! He shouldn't be saying that and you shouldn't be teaching him that!"

"It's not like I sat him down and taught him how to say it," Flack told her. "I didn't sit down and say Kieran, here's a new word for you. Less of a huge deal we make about it, chances are he will forget about it. He's only saying it over and over again because he likes seeing the reaction he gets. So don't react and he'll stop."

Kieran quieted down. His bottle firmly planted in his mouth once again.

"Damn kid," Sam grumbled. "Seriously, Donnie. What if he does that in church?"

Flack's eyes widened. "Church? Hold the phone. Whose going to church?"

Sam smiled primly and pointed at herself, than Kieran, than her husband.

"Oh hell no," Flack said. "I never agreed to going to church, babe. You never even mentioned it."

"My parents go to church every Sunday," she told him.

"So? Why do we have to go with them?"

"Be a good little Catholic boy, Donald," she said. "Besides, we need to start going if we want Kieran baptized sometime soon. He should be baptized and you know it. And he can't go to a Catholic school if he isn't. So there."

"Sammie, I agreed to baptizing him Catholic and him going to a Catholic school. That's all fine and dandy. But I never agreed to going to church with your family."

"Face it, honey," she said, and pushing her chair away from the table, stood up and gathered all her garbage together. "This is an argument you will not win."

He sighed and hung his head and shook it slowly.

"You have to go sometime, baby," she said. "If he's going to be baptized..."

"I know, I know," he grumbled. "Just don't expect much, okay? Don't expect me going every Sunday or Saturday evenings. Okay?"

"I'd never expect the Devil's spawn to change that much," she teased as she rinsed her spoon at the sink. "Kieran Shaun Donald.." she singsonged. "Mommy's little skin head. Were you a good boy while I was napping?"

He nodded.

"Other than letting your dad teach you such a filthy word."

"It was Monroe," Flack said and stood up as well. "All Monroe."

"You lie!" Lindsay laughed. "You know, I really admire you two," she said.

"Why's that?" Flack asked. "Because we drive each other nuts and haven't killed each other yet?"

"No," she replied. "I guess it's because both of you know you're not perfect and you don't deny it. And you annoy each other to no end. You say stupid stuff and than take it back in the next breath. But if you put all the craziness aside, I honestly don't think I'll ever find two people that loves and cherishes the other as much as you two do. I just..." she sighed. "I wish I had that, what you two have, with Danny. Where you can just push each others buttons and piss each other off. Have a raging argument and make up a minute later."

"We fight just so we can make up," Flack said. He snagged the dish towel off the handle of the oven and twisted it up and smacked his wife on the ass with it. "Right, honey?! We just like to get to the make up sex."

"That f'ing hurt!" she complained, stroking her back side. "Do you mind?"

"I never mind touching your ass," he said with a grin and gently rubbed her butt for her. "I'm sorry. I thought seeing as you got a big old J-Lo butt, more cushion for the pushin', it wouldn't hurt that much."

"Are you saying I'm fat?" she gasped. "I may be pregnant but I am still a size eight I'll have you know."

"I never said you were fat, babe. I just said you have a J-Lo butt. That's all. And it's a really, really nice J-Lo butt."

"Linds does not want to hear about your perversions, okay? Now can you please make yourself useful and start something for dinner before Danny gets home?"

"What is this? A foursome? A four-nogamous relationship? I have two wives and a husband?"

"I think it would probably be called quad-nogamous," Sam corrected.

"Well whatever it's called, I don't want to be part of it, okay? Unless we get rid of Messer and it's just me, you and Monroe."

"Hmmm, let me think about that," Sam said. "How does this sound? No."

"You never let me have any fun, Sammie. We get married and I never have any fun anymore."

She smiled. "Oh well...no one ever said marrying me would be fun, did it? Would you please make something for dinner? Please? The trippies are hungry."

"Don't blame it on them," Flack said and went to the fridge and opened it. "What the hell...why is the fridge so damn full? And how long has some of this shit been around for?"

"Shit!" Kieran cried from his spot at Sam's feet.

"Donald!" Sam bellowed. "You owe like twenty bucks to the swear jar!"

"Why don't I just put my whole pay cheque in it and than we're good for a month?" he suggested.

"Why don't you just watch your mouth," Sam retorted.

"I could do that," he said, rummaging through the fridge. "But than life around here would be just damn boring now, wouldn't it. Seriously, Sam. How much food does one house need?"

"There's four adults and a toddler under one roof," Sam reminded him. "And you and Danny eat like pigs."

"I say we just order something," Flack said, shutting the fridge. "I'm too lazy to go searching in that mess to find something to make. Chinese sound good, babe? Linds? Chinese?"

"Sounds good to me," Lindsay said, rubbing her stomach. "I'm starving. All that running around today looking for a job and not having time to eat."

"Still don't know why you don't take us up on our offer," Flack said, removing his glasses and setting them on the counter.

"Put those damn things back on!" Sam ordered.

"I'm rubbing my freaking eyes!" he informed her. "Do you mind?"

"You heard what the doctor said. Morning, noon and night."

"Jesus woman. Do you ever stop? My eyes are bothering me. Give me a minute to rub them before you get on my ass."

"This is what I mean about you two," Lindsay laughed. "You do this bickering, nagging thing at each other and the whole time, the way you're looking at each other...I don't know. I can't describe it. What's in your eyes when you look at one another."

"Lust," Flack said. "Pure lust. On her part anyway."

"Yep, that's it," Sam told him. "I am in lust with you."

"I know you love me," he said. "Deep down in that tiny body of yours. Part of you loves me."

She smiled lovingly at him.

He grinned and winked at her and kissed her softly.

"Food..." she said, tugging on his t-shirt. "Now."

"You're demanding. K? You wanna come for a car ride with daddy? Go pick up Uncle Danny and get your mommy some food on the way back?"

Kieran nodded, pulled his bottle out of his mouth and let out a loud, rib shaking belch.

Lindsay giggled. "He's definitely your son, Flack."

"Kieran!" Sam scolded. "Say excuse me."

"Tuse me," he said, a devilish grin on his face.

"Oh yeah?" Flack went to the fridge, grabbed a can of gingerale and cracked it open. He down half of it in swallow, waited thirty seconds and than unleashed a massive burp of his own. "Try and beat that, K," he said.

Kieran burst into hysterical laughter.

"Don!" Sam exclaimed, exasperated. "What is wrong with you?"

"I will not be out done by a fourteen month old, Sammie."

"Competing with a toddler, Donald?" she arched an eyebrow.

"Yeah...and your point?"

She pulled him by the t-shirt into her. "Grow up," she responded.

"Never," he vowed. "You can suck all the fun out of me, Sammie, but I will not let you steal my youth. Understand me woman? Come on, K. Let's go. Sometime today would be good."

He offered his hand to his son. The toddler curled his hand around two of his dad's fingers and pulled himself up onto his feet.

"Go and get one toy," Flack told him. "You can bring one two with you in the car. Okay?"

"One!" Kieran exclaimed, holding up two fingers before scurrying out of the room.

"Think he'll come back with one or two?" Flack asked his wife.

"This morning I said get me a diaper and he brought me six," she laughed. "I attempted putting him on the potty this morning. What a disaster that was. Ask Lindsay. While you're at the eye doctor, I'm dealing with a bawling, kicking and biting fourteen month old on the potty. Such fun."

"It's probably going to take even longer now to potty train him, you know," Flack said, gathering his keys and cell phone off the top of the microwave.

"I know," she sighed. "And it's going to be a bitch to get him off the bottle and get him away from needing a light on to sleep. Right when he was making all this quick progress on stuff..."

"It happens," he reasoned. "We can't do much about it. So it takes awhile to get him back on track."

"He shouldn't have to get back on track," Sam said, her voice quiet, tears sparkling in her eyes. True to Chester Lake's words, things indeed weren't getting easier to accept and deal with quickly. Most days she was able to not think about what had happened every time she looked at her son, but other days she spent most of her time in tears or at least near them and lamenting why things had to happen to them and their family.

"I'm just going to check on baby K," Lindsay said, code words for I'll leave you to alone for a minute.

Flack smiled his appreciation as she left the room, than turned back to his wife. Reaching out, he pushed a piece of wayward hair behind her ear. "He's doing okay, Sammie. You know that. You see how happy he is. He doesn't remember anything."

"But he knows when he's in pain," she sniffled. "You hear him bad he cries when he goes to the bathroom. No kid should have to suffer like that just because he has to go to the bathroom. That's not fair."

"The doctor said things are healing better than they expected" Flack reminded her, running a hand over her hair and down her back. It's just going to take a while for things to be completely back to normal."

"He's just a baby," she whispered. "He shouldn't have to go through that."

"Sammie, trust me, babe, he's doing great. He's smiling and he's laughing and he's eating well. He's happy. He's the old Kieran. So he went back to a bottle and sucking his thumb and sleeping with a light on. So he takes longer to potty train. Who gives a shit? The most important thing is that he's healthy and happy and he's safe at home with us."

"But when are we going to be normal?" she asked, brushing tears away. "When are things going to be normal for us again? Me and you?"

"So we've got some intimacy issues. No biggie. We got things done this morning. So that's as far as we go right now. If it freaks you out to have sex than it freaks you out to have sex. You think that's the most important thing to me? Whether we have full out intercourse or not?"

"I never said that it was the most important thing to you," she said. "It's just not normal."

"Says who? Considering what we just went through and what happened to Kieran bringing up all those memories of your dad, us not having sex is the least of our worries. We're lucky that's all the problems it caused. We're going to see that therapist when we get back," he rubbed her back softly and affectionately, letting his hand slide up to her shoulder. "He'll sort it out, make sense of it all and we'll be better off in the long run. You'll see."

She nodded and wiped her eyes on the front of his shirt and laid her forehead against his chest.

"It's going to get better," Flack promised, wrapping his arms around her and pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "You just have to give it time and stop being so impatient. It's not going to go away over night, Sammie."

"I know," she said, resting her hands on his sides. "But I want it to start feeling a little better soon."

"It will," he assured her, stroking her back. "Once we get out of here for a while and away from the city and this apartment, things will probably start looking up."

"I hope so," she sighed and pulled away. She looked up at him. "You're doing okay?" she asked. "I don't seem to ask you enough how you're doing. You're so busy worrying about me that it makes it seem like I don't worry about you."

"I know you worry about me," he said, and kissed her softly.

"You never answered my question."

"I'm coping," he told her, pressing his lips to her forehead. "Barely sometimes, but I'm still coping."

"Instead of worrying about me so much, maybe you should be talking to me about how you're feeling," she suggested.

"It's my job to worry about you," he said with a smile. "And if I felt I needed to talk to someone, you'd be the first person I'd go to."

"You need to talk about it, Donnie," she told him.

"When I need to talk, I will," he promised her. Kissing her one last time, he broke away from her. "Is there anything else you need while I'm out?"

"A Frosty from Wendy's would be nice," she responded, rubbing her slightly protruding belly. "I'm going to make myself and Lindsay some sweet potato fries."

Flack shuddered at the thought. "I can't believe you eat those things."

"They're good," she said and went to the fridge and opened the freezer.

"Fries are not fries unless they're cooked in tons of grease and smothered in gravy," he declared.

"So says the thirty-one year old with bad cholesterol," she teased.

"You love me, Sammie," he said, stepping behind her and snaking an arm around her waist and kissing the back of her head. "Regardless of all my problems."

"God knows you have enough," she sighed dramatically. "Be careful while you're out please."

"Always," he said. "Be nice to my babies," he implored, stroking her tummy.

"Always," she responded. "I love you, Donnie. Just please be safe. With yourself and with Kieran."

"I will," he promised. "And I love you, too and I'll be back in a little while. You need anything you just call me or Danny. Okay?"

She nodded.

"Be good," he said, pecking her cheek and leaving the kitchen.

She stood at the freezer, staring at nothing in particular, hot tears spilling down her cheeks. She was terrified. Scared to death that he was going to leave the house and not come back. That she'd get that one phone call she dreaded the most...

Don't do this, she pleaded to herself. You can get through this. You can cope and you can deal because you're stronger than you realize.

She sighed and brushed her tears away with the sleeve of her shirt.

Than why do I feel anything but strong?

Danny was already waiting outside of the crime lab, freezing his ass of in the blustery, snowy conditions, having a smoke when the familiar black GMC Yukon pulled up at the crib. He hurriedly finished the last of his cigarette and flicked away and headed for the waiting vehicle.

"What's up four eyes?" he asked, as he flung open the door and climbed into front passenger seat.

"Mess, I swear if you don't knock that four eyes shit off, I'm eighty-sixing your ass from my place," Flack responded, as his best friend shut his door and clipped on his seat belt.

"Do that and it might actually give me and Montana the initiative to find our own apartment and stop freeloading off you and Brooklyn."

"Honestly, I think Sammie would miss you guys too much if you were to leave. Not that that is an open invitation to live with me and sleep on my couch for the next twenty odd years. Just she likes having you guys around."

"Well we like being around you guys," Danny said. "And it's nice to see Sam and Linds getting so close. Never thought I'd see that happen in a million years, mind you."

"Miracles never cease to exist," Flack declared. "And Sam's needing a friend these days with her and Carmen on the outs and Carmen siding with Stella and all that other soap opera bullshit."

"It's not that she's siding with her," Danny said. "It's just she's supporting Stella's stance on the whole thing. Gotta give Mac credit though. He laid into her when he found out how she'd handled you guys and talked to you guys at the hospital. And Speed was brought up on the carpet by Sinclair for what eh said to the press."

"Good," Flack glanced through the rear view mirror to check the flow of traffic coming down Broadway. "He's lucky I didn't kill him. And trust me, if Lessing hadn't have kicked the shit out of me, I would have been on Speedle's ass in a heart beat. Anything else being said around there?"

Danny shook his head. "We've all got your guys backs and you know that. Anyone says anything and me and Hawkes will tear 'em apart. Never mind what Adam will do. Give it some time. Once you guys get back from Arizona things will have died down and we'll all be friends again. Just a lot of things got said and feelings got hurt and it's a big old fucking mess."

"Only time will tell," Flack said, as he steered the SUV into traffic. "Carmen called last night but Sam's been blocking the calls. Next time you see her, tell her not to take it too personally. Sam's just not talking to anyone these days. She's a little pissed."

"Rightfully so," Danny yawned noisily and glanced into the back seat. Where Kieran, in his winter jacket and navy blue wool hat with NYPD written across it and boots was fast asleep in his car seat, his head tilted at an awkward angle. "Kid looks more and more like you every day," he said to his best friend. "Poor little bastard. Thank God he's got his mom's brains though or he'd be really screwed."

"Be nice, Mess," Flack said. "Or I'm tossing you out at the first red light."

Danny held up his hands in surrender. "I was kinda surprised when you called and said you were coming to pick me up. You've never done that before."

Flack shrugged. "Didn't want you taking the subway home in the freezing cold," he said.

"Ahh, Donnie," Danny gave a girlish giggle and reached out to run a hand over his best friend's head and down to his neck. "I never realized you thought of me in that way."

"Piss off, Messer," he grumbled and slapped the CSI's hand away. "Maybe I just felt like being a nice guy for once."

"Maybe," Danny agreed. "Or maybe you're here 'cause you got something on your mind and you want to talk about it."

Flack smirked. "Damn you," he said.

"So? What's up?" Danny asked. "What's bugging ya?"

"I got a call today from Sinclair," Flack told him. "Jack Doyle filed a complaint against me and is threatening to have me charged with assault. Police brutality were the exact words."

"You found this out today?"

He nodded.

"Sinclair pissed?"

"Surprisingly, both Sinclair and Gerrard vow they have my back and that they'll support me no matter what if it goes any further than a complaint."

"At least they're not saying fuck you and throwing you to the wolves." Danny said. "And for what it's worth, I got your back no matter what, too."

Flack smiled and nodded. "Thanks. Means a lot."

"You'd do it for me, right? Can't believe that scum bag, Doyle. He's the one that kidnaps your kid and does whatever else to him and he has the nerve to file a complaint against you? I am telling you right now, Flack. I hope some con gets a hold of him and tears him open from sun up to sun down and than kills him. 'Cause he doesn't deserve to walk this earth. You tell Sam? About the complaint?"

Flack shook his head. "She's got enough shit to deal with without adding to it. I'll tell her when we get back. So she doesn't start back at work and hear anything and than wonder why I never told her. And there's another thing. Us going away."

"Thought you'd be happy to get out of the city," Danny said.

"I am. It's just...I'm worried that Sam's mom is going to get on her. About leaving Kieran alone and him getting snatched. Because that's the way Sam's mother is. She'll start in on her about how it was her fault and so on and so on and Sam just doesn't need to hear that shit. She feels guilty enough."

"She's got nothing to feel guilty about," Danny said.

"I know that and you know that, but Sam..." he sighed. "Sam doesn't know that. She still blames herself. And no matter how many times I tell her if wasn't her fault, it doesn't seem to get through to her."

"Give her some time. More time that passes, the more she'll start to get things. And she's got all of us around to help her. Especially Linds."

"Which brings me onto the third thing I wanted to talk about," Flack said. "You and Monroe. Well mostly Monroe."

"Okay..."

"Sam and I made an offer to her today."

Danny arched an eyebrow. "You two are not having a threesome with my girl."

"What is wrong with you?" Flack snorted. "Why would you even think that? I mean a job offer you moron. Sam and I were talking and we're going to pull K out of day care. He's just not doing well there since this all happened. He's been there three times and those three times he started bawling the second Sammie dropped him off and apparently threw temper tantrums all day. Biting kids and the teachers and banging his head off of stuff."

"So he's just like you than," Danny quipped.

He frowned. "I'm being serious here, Mess. We're pulling him out and me and Sam talked about it and my mom can't watch him full time and we asked Lindsay if she wanted to do it."

"Like a nanny?"

Flack nodded. "I mean, the wage isn't going to be the best, but it's far above minimum and would help pay the bills once you guys got your own place."

"And what did she say?" Danny asked.

"She said she's going to think about it. Personally, I think it's a good fit. Her and Kieran. Because he really likes her and she's the only one he doesn't freak out on if Sam or I leave the house."

"And she adores him," Danny added. "In my opinion, it's a good idea. She doesn't want to go back into law enforcement and she loves kids. So that seems like a logical thing for her to do. Gives Sam a helping hand when she has the triplets, too."

Flack nodded. "I'm worried about her, Danny," he said with a heavy sigh.

"Brooklyn?"

He nodded again. "She's not eating properly, she's not sleeping properly. She says she's hungry than barely touches anything. She wakes up from nightmares at least three times a night."

"Give it some time, Flack," Danny implored. "She needs time. You need time. Together. Going away is going to be the best thing you could have ever done. Trust me. You guys will be so relaxed and have such a good time, you won't ever want to come back."

Flack didn't respond. Because deep down, he was wondering if he did want to come back. If just going away, far away from everything and everyone he knew, was the answer to all of his problems.

He'd miss New York City. But if it came down to saving his family and their sanity and his own, leaving would be a choice he'd be willing to make.

"How come you're not sleeping, Montana?" Danny grumbled. He was on his stomach in the middle of the pull out couch, his face turned towards his girlfriend, his weary eyes adjusting to the moonlight.

It was shortly after midnight. The entire house had retired for the night long ago. Kieran had gone to bed at quarter to eight, but had woken up just after ten, screaming bloody murder from a nightmare and begging for mommy and daddy to come and get him. In the end it had been daddy to the rescue. Danny and Lindsay could hear them down the hall, Flack talking to his son in a calm, soothing voice as he cuddled him close and paced the bedroom with him. Eventually, he'd changed the kid's diaper and than took him into the master bedroom to sleep in between him and Sam. Neither of them believed in or condoned co-sleeping, but lately it seemed to be the only way the toddler would sleep soundly.

That was the last of the noise from the opposite end of the apartment. Yet Lindsay had spent the last two hours tossing and turning. Her mind plagued with random thoughts and sleep evading her. Now she lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling, clad in a pair of Hello Kitty pyjamas borrowed from her bestie, as she so fondly referred to Sam as. She was still waiting for all of her things to be boxed up and shipped to New York. And the way that the governor was dragging his heels on cutting her loose, she was considering just buying a whole new wardrobe and saying fuck it.

"I'm going to take Sam and Flack up on their offer," she said.

"About taking care of Kieran?"

Lindsay nodded. "I just love the little guy and he seems to love me and respond well to me and Sammie's going to need the help once the triplets come along."

"You're calling her Sammie now, too?"

"Only the ones that love her most call her that," Lindsay grinned. "I just wanted to make sure it was okay with you. That I take the job."

"Why wouldn't it be? I think you're great with him and I see how much you two adore each other. I think it's the best thing for you to do."

Lindsay smiled and rolled over onto her side and kissed him softly. "This is so surreal," she sighed.

"Tell me about it. Never thought in a million years I'd be living at Flack's. I mean, I've camped out on the couch before, but I've never been common law with him."

"I wasn't referring to sleeping on Flack's couch," Lindsay informed him, pressing a soft kiss to the tip of his nose. "I was referring to me and you."

"My mistake," Danny laughed, than found himself tackled onto his back and his girlfriend climbing astride him. "Thought we agreed not to get busy while Sam and Flack were home," he said, running his hands along her thighs and up to her waist.

"I wasn't about to get busy with you," Lindsay informed him.

"Damn it," he sighed dramatically. "Just think though. We got the whole place to ourselves for three weeks. We might have to buy them a new pull out. We'll probably wear this one out. Bust all the springs."

"Pig," Lindsay complained, and leaned over to kiss him.

"Oink, oink, baby," he laughed. "What else is up?" he asked. "You can't tell me that you thinking about becoming Mary Poppins to K is what's keeping you from sleeping."

"It's not," she sighed. "I've been thinking and there's something I need to say to you."

He frowned. "You're dumping me already?"

"No!" she laughed. "Unless you're hoping for that."

"Not in a million years," he declared. "So? Spill. What's up?"

"I want what Sam and Flack have," she said.

"In what way? The apartment? Nice cars to drive? A baby? More babies on the way?"

"Not stuff like that," Lindsay responded. "Especially the last two. Because we've already talked about waiting a couple of years before we start our own family and you know that I'll love your son or daughter with Erica no matter what."

Danny nodded. "So what do you mean than?"

"I mean what they have. Relationship wise. The way they are with each other. The way they love one another so wholly and completely. The way they bicker and drive each other nuts but you still see all this love and adoration and respect in their eyes when they so as much look at each other."

"We do have that, Lindsay. Don't you think we have that?"

"Not to the extent that they have it. I know you love me. Just like you know I love you. We wouldn't be here right now if we didn't love each other. But I don't think we have exactly what they have."

"How could we? We're Danny and Lindsay and they're Sam and Flack. What we feel and what they feel are going to be completely different."

"I know that. But I want that kind of love, Danny. And I don't know if we have that kind. Does that make sense?"

"In a strange and obscure kind of way. And honestly, Linds, I don't think many people ever find what Sam and Flack have. It's something we all want and seldom find."

"I know," she sighed. "But I was hoping we could be one of the few that do find it."

Danny considered her words. "I love you, Lindsay Monroe. More than words. You know that, right?"

She smiled and nodded. "And I love you, Daniel Messer."

"Than how about we make a deal," he suggested.

"What kind of deal?" she asked.

"How about we not worry about finding what Sam and Flack have, and create something of our own. Our own love. Danny and Lindsay. Let's concentrate on what we have and building on that. Sound good?"

She beamed. "Sounds perfect," she said and kissed her deeply. Squealing and giggling when she found herself flipped over onto her back.

"Are you wearing Brooklyn's jammies?" he asked, propping on an elbow as he fingered the pyjama top.

Lindsay nodded.

"What is it with you two and Hello Kitty?" he asked, popping open the top button.

"Hello Kitty is adorable," she declared.

"Yeah? Well I hate Hello Kitty," Danny informed her, and began opening the rest of the buttons. "So the sooner we get it off of you, the better."

She shivered, goosebumps pricking up all over her body as his fingertips drifted along her sides and up her stomach and between her breasts. Sighing and closing her eyes at the feel of his lips and his tongue on the side of her neck and her collarbone. "I thought we agreed we weren't going to do anything," she said, biting her bottom lips as his mouth travelled over the swell of her breasts, down the space in between and lower.

"We did," he told her, licking a circle around her navel and than blowing on the moist area. Grinning as she gave a little whimper of delight. "But I changed my mind," he said, hooking his fingers in the waistband of her pyjama bottoms.

"I don't think they want to hear us, Danny," she said, not protesting as he slid her bottoms over her hips and down her legs, sitting on his heels as he tossed them aside.

"They won't," he told her, and grabbed a hold of her pillow and handed it to her. "Just don't suffocate yourself," he said with a wink, and pressing kiss to each knee, pushed her legs apart gently.

"I'm going to die," she declared with a long, content sigh.

"Hell of a way to go, Montana," he told her.

"Best damn way in the world, Cowboy," she said, and lost herself underneath his skilled hands and mouth.

And she hoped that she'd continue to lose herself within him for as long as she lived. Fate had brought her to him, and there was nothing that could tear them apart now.

She would fight for him and his love to the death.

And she was certain, with every fibre of being, that he felt the same way.

And that this was forever. That they were forever.

Thanks to everyone that is reading and reviewing! I appreciate each and every one of you!! Thanks for all the support revolving around the Lessing story line and what happened to baby K. I was worried about doing it and you guys really gave me the confidence I needed to get through it. Especially at a time where I've been considering, thanks to a select negative few, pulling both MOB and VFB. So much love to all of you that support me, and my writing!!! But please, please, please review. It keeps me going!

Special thanks to:

hope4sall

laurzz

brttmclv

muchmadness

laplandgurl

bluehaven4220

Kassandra J

Forest Angel

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