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

Heaven or hell? Or somewhere in between?

"Some people say
That everything has got its place and time
Even the day must give way to the night
But I'm not buying
'Cause, in your eyes
I see a love that burns eternally
And, if you see how beautiful you are to me
You'll know I'm not lying

Sure, there'll be times we wanna say goodbye
But, even if we tried
There are some things in this life
Won't be denied

I'm never gonna say goodbye
'Cause I never wanna see you cry
I swore to you my love would remain
And I'd swear it all over again--and I I'm never gonna treat you bad
'Cause I never wanna see you sad
I swore to share your joys and your pain
And I'd swear it all over again."
-Swear it Again, Westlife

It was seventy-seven degrees in Phoenix, Arizona. The pilot of Delta Airlines Flight 181 made the announcement shortly before the fasten your seat belts sign went on and the plane made it's final approach towards Sky Harbor International Airport. Passengers, on route from New York City's JFK airport, had long ago stashed winter jackets and hats and mitts in the overhead compartments, and took the opportunity after the announcement to shed themselves of any extra layers of clothing.

By the time they got their luggage from the baggage claim area and procured their rental car from the AVIS desk in the airport, it was quarter after three in the afternoon. Flack had insisted that the in laws not feel the need to pick them up upon their arrival. Although the gesture was appreciated, he preferred to have a rented vehicle to drive around for three weeks as opposed to either being stuck in the house or borrowing one of the in laws' cars. And also because it was an hour drive to the house, and Flack wanted to spend that last hour in relative peace and quiet before losing his sanity all together.

He loaded the luggage – why was it a kid that weighed less than thirty pounds and barely stood two feet came with the most baggage? - into the trunk of the gun metal grey Chrysler Sebring sedan and than set to work securing Kieran's car seat in the middle of the back seat while Sam waited with their son on the curb, explaining to the toddler in a patient, soft tone that he had to hold mommy's hand because mommy didn't want him running off and getting lost and never coming back. And did he want that? To never come back to mommy and daddy? That he was lost once and mommy and daddy were sad and they couldn't take it if he got lost again.

"He's going to pray for someone to rescue him after twenty four hours with your parents," Flack commented, finishing with the car seat and turning around to scoop Kieran up.

He couldn't help but think, as his petite wife stood there, in a pair of baggy jeans and flip flops and a green and white Puma zip up athletic jacket she'd snagged from his side of the closet and the sunshine causing the natural red highlights in her hair to sparkle brilliantly, that she was honestly the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. And that he needed to stop taking advantage of her and taking her for granted so much.

"Be nice, Don," she said with a sigh. "A little optimism would be nice."

"Optimism and your mother don't belong in the same thought," he said, ducking back into the car and placing Kieran in the car seat . "Next trip we take," he called to her, as he buckled his son in tightly. "I say we don't take the kid. Because he just comes with way too much crap."

"Just promise me you'll be nice," Sam pleaded, unable to resist checking out her husband's ass that was on fine and full display in his loose fitting Tommy Hilfiger jeans.

"I'm always nice," he said. "Nice is my middle name."

She snorted and unzipped the jacket and shrugged out of it.

"And quit checking out my ass," he added, as he backed out of the car.

"I can't help it, okay? You happen to have a very nice ass. Would you rather I be checking out yours or some random guy's on the street?"

"I'd rather you be.." he turned to face her and all thought and words escaped him.

His eyes widened in sheer horror at the sight of the t-shirt she was so proudly wearing. Soft pink, with a picture of Tinkerbell from Peter Pan on it, hunched down on all fours, accompanied by the words: If you're going to ride my ass, at least pull my hair. Last week, when she'd brought that shirt one from some crappy little boutique that specialized in poorly made designer knock-offs, he'd had a good laugh about it but politely asked her to never wear that in public. She had assured him it was for pyjama purposes only. That she thought it suit her personality and their relationship perfectly and couldn't resist.

And now there she was, an hour away from her parents' house, in that t-shirt. She had kept that jacket zipped up from the time they left the house until that very moment. And now he understood why.

"What?" she asked innocently, passing him his jacket. "What's wrong?"

"Did you have to wear that?" he asked. "Seriously, Sam. Did you?"

"It's my favorite t-shirt," she declared. "And I wore it just for you, honey."

"You told me you wouldn't wear it out of the house."

"Well I changed my mind," she said with a shrug. "It's just a t-shirt."

"Put that damn jacket back on and do it up," he ordered, tossing his jacket back at her.

"But it's hot here," she protested. "I'll sweat to death."

"It's only seventy-five degrees out..."

"Seventy-seven," she corrected and stuck her tongue out at him.

"Whatever...just put the goddamn jacket back on. You know what your mother will do if she sees that shirt?"

"You mean other than think you've majorly corrupted me?"

"She'll have a stroke and you know it. Put the jacket back on."

"Don't boss me around," she fought back. "Don't go all detective Sargent on me."

"Sam..." he nearly snapped at her, but held it back admirably. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Put the jacket back on. Please."

"Fine," she huffed and slipped back into the item of clothing. "I'm not doing it up though."

"You're so damn childish," he complained, and reached out and zipped the jacket up.

"Usually you're unzipping things," she commented.

He smirked and kissed her. "Get your ass in the damn car," he said.

"You're bossy today," she informed him and went around the back of the vehicle to the front passenger door and opened it. "Where'd my husband go? Where'd the nice Don Flack go?"

"He's back home in New York City. You've got to put up with the mean, off hand, sarcastic Don Flack for the next three weeks."

"Like hell!" she declared and slipped into the car and shut the door.

"I can't believe you'd actually wear that shirt," he sighed, as he climbed in behind the wheel.

"I was making a statement," she declared, as he adjusted his seat and the mirrors.

"That you're a dirty, perverted little thing that's into having her hair pulled while I..."

"Enough," she held her hand up to silence him. "Keep that nice thought to yourself. That should be enough to sustain you for three weeks."

"If you actually think I'm going through weeks without getting anything, you are delusional," Flack told her, starting up the ignition.

"You know the rules," Sam said, unzipping Kieran's Bob the Builder knapsack. "No pleasure of any kind in their house."

"You know, I was thinking we should go to the drug store before we hit your parents house and buy the biggest bottle of lube they have and use some of it and get some on the sheets and than leave the bed unmade and the bottle on the floor where your mom can find it."

"Don't be a shit disturber, Donald," she said, rummaging through the bag to find the two pairs of sunglasses she'd stowed in it earlier.

"Or, we can do that and leave my handcuffs attached to the headboard."

She grinned. "Better yet, how about I leave you attached to the headboard with your handcuffs?" she suggested, finding her pair of black framed Paris Hilton style shades and slipping them onto her face.

"You've done that twice and neither time was amusing," he complained, switching on the signal light in an attempt to encourage some other kind hearted driver to let him into the flow of traffic.

"I left you there for all of five minutes," she said. "I wouldn't have left you there all night or all day. Or would I have?" she gave a dramatic, evil laugh.

"Mommy!" Kieran called out from the back seat. "Mommy! No!"

Sam glanced over her shoulder, to where her son was pointing out the window with one hand and covering his eyes with the other.

"Hear that?" Flack asked, as he finally made his way into traffic. "He's telling you not to be so mean to me."

"No he's not. He's complaining that the sun is in his eyes," Sam informed her husband, and digging into the bag, pulled out a tiny pair of blue framed Blues Clues sunglasses. Unbuckling her seat belt, she leaned into the backseat and gently slipped them onto her son's face. "There...better K?"

He nodded and gave her a thumbs up. "Tank, mommy," he said, than promptly stuck his thumb in his mouth.

Sam sighed. "I'm going to cut that damn thumb off Kieran Shaun Donald Flack!" she informed him.

He shook his head.

"I am. I'm going to get you when you're sleeping and chop it off with a butter knife. Than I'm going to feed it to Slippers."

"No!" he cried around the thumb in his mouth. "No whippers."

"Leave him alone," Flack said. "You're going to traumatize him."

"Please. I'd never honestly cut it off and feed it to the cat. Maybe dice it up and feed it to you..."

"Probably be the best damn, and only meal, you've made in a long time," he teased, and jerked his head away before she could manage to flick his earlobe.

"You don't look like you're starving!" Sam declared, and pinched his love handles.

"It's all the food my girlfriend makes me and leaves at work for me," he teased.

"You're mean," she said and pinched his stomach playfully.

"No...I'm just honest."

She stuck her tongue out at him and than smiled and rested her hand on the back of his neck, her fingernails gently rubbing his hair, or lack there of, at the bottom of his NYPD ball cap. She loved the feel of the brush cut, even if the look of it was still growing on her.

"Word of warning," Flack said. "Your mother starts on you about K and we're going to a hotel. You hear me?"

She nodded.

"Because you don't need that shit, Sammie. You don't need that stress. And those babies don't need you all worked up and tense. We need to worry about them and you. Okay?"

"I've been fine, Donnie. Even with everything with Kieran. I've been fine. My blood pressure has been normal and I haven't had any cramping or spotting. Nothing."

"Better to be safe than sorry," he reasoned. "I'm serious, Samantha. One goddamn word out of her about what happened..."

"I know, Don. I know. Okay? Don't nag at me and talk to me like I'm an idiot, okay? I know it's hard to turn the cop off, but you need to try. Please?"

"I'm not..."

"Please?" she urged.

"I'll try. I'm just worried about you and the babies. Don't fault me for that."

"I'm not. I love you for that. You know that. And I understand everything you're saying and I agree with you and I'm on your side. Just...just don't go on and on about it like I'm some kind of moron."

"I'm sorry," he said. "I don't even realize I'm like that half the time. Did you tell them about Kieran? About Doyle?"

Sam shook her head.

"Good move," he praised. "Less she has to get on you about the better."

Sam sighed and laid her head on his shoulder. "I just want people to realize it wasn't my fault," she said.

"You know what, Sammie? And I'm not saying this to be mean and I love you to death and you know that. But the only person who really thinks that what happened was your fault is yourself. And the sooner you're able to realize that it wasn't, the sooner you'll be able to stop thinking everyone else blames you."

She blinked behind her sunglasses and pulled back to look at him.

"It wasn't your fault, Samantha," he said. "I don't blame you. Kieran doesn't blame you. And we're your family and the only two peoples' opinions that should even matter to you. Who gives a crap what anyone else says or thinks? And trust me, anyone ever says anything about you, Carmen, Speed , Stella, I will make their lives a living, breathing hell. Don't think for one second I'm going to tolerate anyone saying shit about my wife."

She smiled brightly and leaned across the seat and kissed his cheek. "I love you," she declared.

"Yeah?" he grinned. "How much to you love me?"

"Tons and tons," she said.

"Enough to give me some at your parents?"

She frowned and kissed his cheek once more and retreated back to her side of the car. "Let it go, Don," she said.

The in-laws lived on a quiet, meticulously clean street in the sleepy suburb of Cave Creek. Sarge's pension from both the military and American Airlines and the wise investments he'd made over the years, had seen him and his wife purchasing the cream colored, Spanish style home two years before Samantha had left for New York City. With red tiling on the roof and a large, kidney shaped in ground pool in the perfectly landscaped backyard, the home at four bedrooms and three baths and backed out onto the dessert and had a phenomenal view of the mountains.

"Why am I suddenly filled with this overwhelming sense of dread?" Flack asked, as he pulled into the double driveway behind his father in law's Lexus SUV.

"Optimism, Donald! Optimism!" Sam exclaimed. Sticking her hand in Kieran's bag, she came up with a small bottle of prescription meds. "And a little helping of valium never hurt either!" she cried, holding the bottle aloft.

He frowned. "You know you can't take that stuff while you're pregnant."

"Relax, baby, It's only my diclectin," she said, snapping the top off the bottle and dumping a small white pill into her palm. "Because your children, plus the motion of the car, are making me feel very, very pukey right about now."

"Too bad you don't have any sedatives, because we both might need them to get through the next three weeks."

"All you need to remember, Donnie, is that I love you. Okay? Just remember that and we will survive anything," she picked up a bottle of water that sat in the cup holder between their seats and uncapped it and swallowed her pill with a long sip of the beverage.

"Why can't we stay in a hotel, Sam?" he lamented, putting the car in park and switching off the ignition. "I mean it doesn't have to somewhere expensive. Just somewhere we can sleep at night. We can spend all day here and than go back to the hotel when we need some privacy."

"We can't afford three weeks in a hotel," she pointed out. "That's expensive even if we stay somewhere cheap. And we will have more privacy here because K will have his own room to sleep in and you and I will have time to ourselves at night. And my mom works all day so you'll barely see her. And remember, the golf course is up the street and my dad is a member and he can bring guests."

"I just got over busted ribs. They probably aren't even close to a hundred percent yet. So as much as I would love to golf every day while we're here..."

"You're stuck hanging around with me all day, every day!" Sam giggled. "It's your worst nightmare come true! Three weeks solid with your wife! You poor, poor man."

"If I come out of this with even a shred of sanity in tact, I will be shocked," he said. "In fact I.."

His words were cut off as the front door swung open and Jericho, his in law's massive Akita came bounding out and down the driveway, barking noisily at the intruders. Flack normally wasn't one for having his kid around big dogs. He didn't trust them to not snap on the baby. Kieran was aggressive with animals and liked to yank on their tails and pull at their ears and rip out their fur. And while Slippers was declawed and put up with a lot of shit, including letting K use her as a pillow and a wrestling buddy, dogs were another story. But Jericho? Flack could honestly say that despite his vicious sounding bark and his intimidating size, Jericho was both gentle as hell and dumb as a box of rocks. It was the creature that followed behind the dog that scared him the most.

"Your mom looks pissed already," Flack murmured.

"Because we're late. She knows what time the flight was suppose to land and how long the drive from the airport takes. And she probably called the airport to check if our flight landed on time so don't even try lying and saying it was delayed or anything."

"I see now where you got your control freak personality from," he said, unbuckling his seat belt. He sighed heavily and made the sign of the cross. "Here we go," he said, and climbed out of the car.

"Was traffic bad?" Lynne asked her son in law in way of greeting. "Or did you get lost? You should have one of them GPS things."

"I have one," Flack said. "Her name's Sam and she's right there," he nodded in the direction of his wife who was out of the car and leaning into the backseat to get Kieran unbuckled. "We had to stop and get her something to eat and let her use the bathroom. I mean, that's okay, right? That she takes a leak?"

Lynne frowned. "I was merely mentioning it because I was worried about all of you."

"Sure you were," Flack said. "What? You're not giving your favorite son in law a hug and a kiss?"

She cleared her throat uncomfortably and gave him a brief, one armed hug. "Was your flight okay?" she asked, going around the side of the car to greet her daughter with a kiss and a hug and to attempt to take her grandson. Kieran wouldn't have anything to do with it. He tightened his hold on his mother's neck and screamed no at the top of his lungs.

"He's still having behavioral problems?" she asked, clearly hurt by the rejection.

"He just got over an ordeal mother," Sam replied defensively. "He hates being separated from me or Don at the moment. It's going to take him a while to get over that."

"Well he does have to grow up sooner as opposed to later. You coddle him too much, Samantha. Look at how clingy he is with you. Your brother was like that with me. I couldn't even go to the bathroom without him crying and carrying on. You don't want Kieran being a sissy like that."

"Mom!" Sam snapped. "He was..." she bit her tongue and took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "He was put through a lot, okay? He was put through a lot and he's dealing with things and some things he's regressed with and you need to be a little patient with him."

Lynne's eyes widened at the sight of a baby bottle in her daughter's hands. "He's back to using a bottle?" she sounded horrified at the thought.

"Did you not hear what I said?" Sam asked, setting Kieran down on the driveway. "He's regressing a little. He's using a bottle and sucking his thumb and he wants to sleep with mommy and daddy. And you know what, mom? That's okay. Because you don't know what he went through and you need to just back off of him."

"Don't be so defensive, Samantha."

"I am defensive, mom," she said, keeping an eye on Kieran as he wrapped one arm around her leg and used his free hand to pet the dog, laughing hysterically as Jericho lavished his face with messy, wet kisses. "He's my son and we went through hell. We're still going through hell and you don't have a right to talk to him or about him like that."

"Sam!" Flack called from the trunk, hoping to break up the tension a little. "You want all of the bags right now? What about his stroller? You want that out?"

"You can leave the stroller and just get the two big hockey bags for now," she responded. "Thanks, baby."

He nodded and gave a wave to show he heard her.

"I'm sorry that the three of you had to go through what you did," Lynne said to her daughter, sounding genuinely sympathetic. "We wanted to come down and..."

"I know, mom. Don told me you'd called and wanted to come. But it was best if you and daddy stayed here. There was nothing you could have done and I was sick in the hospital and..." she sighed. "It was just better that things were handled the way they were."

"Well I'm just glad to see that everyone is fine. That Kieran is okay and that nothing happened to your husband considering what you told me the other night."

"It was scary," Sam said. "He could have very easily died trying to get Kieran back. And mom, please don't call him that. He has a name. Please use it. Don't disrespect him like that. And it's Don. Not Detective Flack or Flack or Donald. Don. That's what he likes to go by. Okay?"

Flack couldn't help but grin, and feel an immense satisfaction and pride in his wife for not only standing out for herself, but sticking up for him. He set the bags on the ground and slammed the trunk closed.

"Daddeee?" Kieran chirped as he toddled over to his father and tugged insistently on the leg of Flack's jeans. "Daddy? "

"What, buddy?" he asked.

"Ook!" Kieran pointed at Jericho rolling around in the grass. "Ook, daddy! Awg! Awg!"

"I see him. And it's a dog, K," he pronounced the word dog clearly. "DOG."

"Awg!" the toddler repeated. "Me awg!"

"I don't think your mom wants you having a dog," Flack told him. "Not in the apartment anyway. Maybe when we get a house she'll let you have one. Okay?"

"O'tay," Kieran said. "Daddy?" he tugged on Flack's pant leg once again and than reached up to curl his fingers around one of Flack's, pulling on it energetically. A sign that he had something to say but needed not only use the sign for it, but for his dad to look at him and pay attention. "Daddy?"

"What K? What do you need?" he asked, looking down.

The toddler tapped the fingertips of his right hand to his lips.

"You want to eat? You're hungry?"

Kieran beamed and nodded enthusiastically.

"Sam!" Flack called to his wife as she and her mom talked quietly at the side of the car. "Your son is hungry!"

"And you want me to do what about that exactly?" Sam asked.

"Feed him would be nice. Or at least get him something to eat before he wastes away."

"He's your son," she said. "That's never going to happen, hon. I'm sure my mom has tons he can eat."

"I went and bought tons of groceries this morning!" Lynne told them, flashing both a smile and excitement in her voice. "I bought my darling grandson all of the things that he likes. Those Gerber Graduates things and those little cereal bars and those tiny marsh mellows and those veggie crunchy treats. And lots of wieners for hot dogs and lots and lots of pizza pops!"

"Those last two are daddy's favorite things, aren't they Kieran," Sam said, winking playfully at her husband.

"Why don't you come with grandma, Kieran and..." Lynne reached for his hand.

"No!" Kieran bellowed and dove for his mother's legs. "No! Mommy!"

Sam sighed and scooped him up. "You're getting too heavy for me to carry you around, K," she told him. "Pretty soon I can't be carrying you around like this, okay? Mommy needs to not lift so much heavy stuff. And the way you eat like your father, you're going to be huge soon."

"If you don't stop picking on me about my eating and my weight woman..." Flack said, carrying the two hockey bags and following up his wife and mother in law up the driveway.

"What are you going to do?" she asked, stopping and bumping her ass into him. "Beat me up? Torture me?"

"Handcuffs," he whispered and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

"I thought you left them at home in the dresser."

He smirked and raised his eyebrows.

Sam grinned. "You're bad," she declared.

"The worst," he agreed.

While grandpa -or gwampa, as Kieran shrieked when Sarge greeted them in the foyer- both entertained and feed the toddler a generous helping of spaghetti and bread, Lynne took her daughter and son in law upstairs to show them to their room and begin unpacking. The spacious guest bedroom was at the back of the house and had a sliding glass door that led out onto a wrought iron and terracotta balcony that was furnished with a glass table and rattan chairs. Facing the the desert and the mountains in the distance, it was the perfect spot to sit out and watch the sunset. Or sunrise for that matter.

The room itself had its own private bathroom with glass enclosed shower stall and jacuzzi style tub. The sleeping area was furnished with a double King sized cherry wood sleigh bed with tasteful earth tone sheets and pillows shams and a duvet. Two dressers and a nightstands and a roll top desk completed the ensemble.

"Now you two know how I feel," Lynne said, as Flack set the bags by the closet. "I don't mind the two of you sleeping together in the same bed..."

"But no doing the nasty and getting biological trace on your sheets," her son in law finished. "Gotcha."

Sam coughed noisily to disguise the laugh that threatened to erupt from her at the mortified expression that crossed her mother's face.

"If you don't trust it and it makes you feel better," Flack said. "Sam may have bought that little blue ALS light that makes shit glow and she can run it over the bed every morning to prove we've been good."

Lynne stared at him for a couple of minutes. "How about I show you Kieran's room?" she suggested and headed out the door.

"Stop it!" Sam whispered to her husband as they followed.

"Stop what?"

"Antagonizing her like you do. Why do you wind her up like that?"

"Because I can. And it's fun."

"Be good," Sam said, than gave a squeal when he grabbed her ass.

Lynne glanced over her shoulder, a frown on her face.

Sam smiled innocently.

Flack held up both hands to show he hadn't done anything inappropriate. He grinned at his wife when his mother in law disappeared into the room next door. "She loves me," he declared. "It just kills her to admit it."

"Stop," Sam warned.

"I'm not doing anything," he defended himself. "Not yet anyway."

She huffed noisily and shook her head and grabbed him by the front of his t-shirt and yanked him into the smallest of the four bedrooms. Pausing in the doorway, her eyes wide in shock, as her mother, a proud smile on her face, stood in the middle of the room with her arms spread wide, showing off her impressive, and over the top, handiwork to them. All of the walls were navy blue and boasted life sized decals of all of the characters from the Disney movie cars. There was even Lightning McQueen bedding on the expensive looking cherry wood crib and matching valances over the navy blue venetian blinds on the windows. And just about every toy imaginable still in their boxes.

"Whoa..." Flack commented. "What in the hell..."

"I had a decorator come in and do it," Lynne boasted. "I said my grandson was coming and he loved the movie Cars and this is what Rinaldo came up with. Isn't it gorgeous? Isn't Kieran just going to love it?"

"He is," Sam agreed. "But isn't this a little..."

"Excessive?" Flack finished.

"Nonsense," his mother in law waved it off. "He's my grandson. And than your father and I went out to Toys R Us and got him a crib and a high chair and a portable play pen and all kinds of clothes and toys..."

"Why?" Flack asked. "Seriously. Why? He visits twice a year, if that."

"He's my grandson," she argued. "I wanted him to have the best and this to me, is the best. I wanted him to be comfortable. There's nothing wrong with that."

"No," Sam said. "There's not, but..."

"What about the other three that are on the way?" Flack inquired. "You going to do something like that for them too?"

"Plans are already in the works, Donald," Lynne replied. "The den will become a nursery and..."

"Wait...wait..." he held up a hand. "A room for Kieran, a nursery....what is this all about? 'Cause to do all of this when we barely come and visit seems a little ridiculous. Not that we don't appreciate it. It's just a little...over the top."

"I have to admit," Lynne said. "There is a method to my madness."

"Of course there is," Flack snorted, and received an elbow in the stomach from his wife.

His mother in law moved over to the dresser on the far side of the room and opened the top drawer. Removing what looked like a small catalouge, she joined them in the doorway and held it out as if presented them with a million dollars.

Sam took the item from her mother and looked down at it. "Real Estate in the Cave Creek area," she read.

Flack coughed noisily and raised his eyebrows.

"Mom, we..."

"Don't say anything and just hear me out," Lynne pleaded. "Your father and I were talking and we have two options for you both. Both we think are in your best interest. The first, would be that we are more than willing to give you a substantial amount of money to be able to purchase your own home. There's lots of lovely homes in this area and..."

"Excuse me?" Flack asked.

"...and if that's not beneficial for you right away, we can used a small bit of money and convert the basement into an apartment. There'd be more than enough room for your family and..."

"We are not moving here," Flack told her. "We came for a visit. To get away. That's it."

"Well Clint and I thought that when you got here and saw what we've done and heard what we're willing to do, that you'd change your minds," she said.

"We are not moving here," he repeated. "Our lives are in New York City. We both have careers there. Friends. My family is there. So is Adam. And we don't have any plans on leaving there."

"The Phoenix Police Department is always hiring," Lynne pointed out.

"I transfer and I have to start at the bottom, as a uniform," Flack informed her. It wasn't the truth, but what she didn't know, wouldn't hurt her. "I've put in a lot of years in the NYPD and I've come pretty far for a young age and I make damn decent money. I'm not going to give that up to come and work as a uniform."

"There's other jobs," she said. "I mean, you'd have to go back to school and get some post-secondary..."

"And what about Sam?" he asked. "She can't go back to the crime lab here after all the issues she had. What does she do?"

"Stay home and take care of her children is the first thing that comes to mind," Lynne replied.

"We are not moving here, mom," Sam spoke up. "Don's right. Everything we have and everyone we know is in New York City. We don't want to leave. And his career is really going places, mom. And that's unfair to ask him to give that up."

"Than why don't you and the children live here and he find a way to come back and forth to see his family."

Flack laughed. "Are you insane? There's something seriously wrong with you if you think for one second that I'd let my family move across the country. Away from me. Our lives are in New York. Accept that or don't. I don't give a rat's ass. But what I do care about is the well being of my family. And them being that far from me, prevents me from taking care of them."

"Well what happened while you were in the same city as them?" Lynne challenged. "Look what happened to Kieran. Where were you...."

"Mom!" Sam snapped. "That's not fair! Don wasn't even home when Kieran went missing. Don't blame it on him."

"I was working," Flack informed her. "Making the city a better fucking place for my family to live in. Look, we came here to relax and spend some time with you guys. But,I refuse to let you ride my ass about getting Sam to move here with our children. She wants to move here, me and her will talk. We'll sort something out. If and only if she wants that. She's my wife, and they're my children. We make the decisions. So while I appreciate your obvious concern, save your breath, and don't bother."

"It's not we don't appreciate the thought or the gesture, mom," Sam said. "We're just happy where we are and it's where we want to raise our family. You may not like New York City but we love it and we can't imagine being anywhere else. And you and daddy doing all of this? A room just for K and turning the den into a nursery...trust me we are very grateful. We just..."

"We're just not moving here," Flack finished. "End of story."

"At least look at the book and consider it," Lynne said. "My grandchildren mean the world to me and it scares me to death them doing in a city that dangerous. Even if it's just a vacation home..."

"A vacation home?" Flack laughed harder this time. "We work for the city. How do you afford a vacation home?"

"Like I said, Samantha's father and I..."

"We don't want anything from you, mom," Sam told her. "We're happy in New York City. We don't want, or need, a summer home. Okay? This is all so gracious and we appreciate it, but we know where we want to be. And it's not here. I'm sorry."

"What are you apologizing to her for?" Flack asked. "Why are you saying sorry? She always does this to you, Sammie. She always turns it around so that you feel guilty as all hell and think you owe her something. You owe her shit. Don't say sorry."

"Maybe she feels bad for dashing our hopes," Lynne told him.

"No, what she feels is manipulated. Because that's what you do. You hold stuff over her head and use it against her. You manipulate her. Force her into feeling guilty for something she didn't even do. Don't try and treat my wife like that."

"And you always answer for her," Lynne fought back. "It's like she can't even make her own decisions anymore. You do all the deciding and all the speaking up for both of you."

"That's bullshit," Flack said. "What I do is protect her and not let people treat her like shit. And all her life you've done that and guess what? I'm here now. I'm her husband and I'm not letting you get away with it. We came here to get away. It was never intended to be permanent."

"I just feel that living here is in the best interest of my daughter and my grandchildren," Lynne remained firm. "And if you don't like it..."

"If I don't like that?" he fought to control his temper. "Samantha is my wife. Kieran is my son. Samantha and I are having another baby. Three of them to be exact. I decide what's in their best interest. And together, Sam and I talk about what's best for our kids. Our kids. Not yours. If Sam says this is something she wants to talk about, than fine. But if she doesn't, you need to back off and leave her alone about it."

"What is it you want, Samantha?" Lynne asked. "Do you know?"

"I want my husband and my children," she responded. "And our home is New York City."

"Well I'm sorry to hear that," her mother huffed and quickly left the room. "What the fuck is wrong with your family, Samantha?" Flack asked. "I mean, can you believe her? Thinking we're just going to move here."

"It's the way she is, Don," Sam fumed. She turned to him, her eyes narrowed. "And you..."

"What about me? What did I do?"

"Don't you ever treat me like that ever again," she hissed.

"I stuck up for you!" he argued. "I defended you!"

"You acted as if I wasn't even in the room. Or that I'm some imbecile that can't make their own decisions. I'm not a child, Don! I'm thirty three years old and I am your wife. And you treating me like that..."

"I only told her..."

"You don't speak for me!" she cried. "You don't make decisions for me and answer for me! I'm not a child! I can make my own choices. I am an adult."

"Yeah?" he snorted. "Than start fucking acting like it and stop letting mommy bully you. Stop making me feel like I need to stand up for you all the time."

"I don't need you standing up for me!" she told him. "I can take care of myself!"

"Fine," he held up his hands in surrender. "You don't need me to take care of you, stick up for you? Fine. Than damn well to start showing that you don't need to be treated like a damn baby."

With that he turned on his heel and stalked out of the room. Samantha sighed heavily and closed her eyes briefly.

Arizona was quickly turning into hell on earth.

The sun was just beginning to set when Samantha, a mug of tea in one hand and a coffee in the other, stepped out onto the balcony off of the guest bedroom. Dinner had been finished two hours ago and Kieran had spent an hour splashing and giggling and carrying on in the tub before getting into his pyjamas and having his last bottle of milk and bedtime snack before promptly passing out on the kitchen floor and than being carried to bed by his father. So far the toddler was sleeping peacefully, securely and contently in his new bedroom, but only time would tell if the nightmares persisted and he needed to spend the night with his parents.

Who hadn't made eye contact or spoken since their argument earlier. Tension had been thick around the dinner table despite Sarge's best efforts to keep conversation flowing. And the second the last dish had been cleared away and Sam set to work caring for Kieran and her mother tidied up and Sarge took off to have a 'beer with the boys' in town, Flack had retreated to the spare room to get some work done.

Sam found him sitting on the glider, glasses on his face and lap top resting on his thighs and case folders and other paper work strewn across the the table he'd pulled over.

"I thought you agreed you weren't going to do any work while we were here," Sam commented quietly, sitting the mugs on the ground as opposed to risking them spilling on the papers if she put them on the table.

"Yeah? Well we also agreed we weren't going to fight while we were here," Flack retorted.

"It wasn't a fight, Donnie," she said lamely. "It was a disagreement."

"Is that what it was," he snorted and continued typing.

"Are you going to talk to me?" she asked, a pleading quality in her voice. "Or just snap off nasty comments all night?"

"I'll think about it," he replied.

She frowned. "I guess I deserve that. I don't want us to go to bed angry, Donnie. Can't you talk about this?"

"What's there to talk about, Samantha?" he inquired. "I think you've said enough."

"You're not being fair," she said, and took a seat beside him. "I thought we could watch the sunset together," she commented, looking out at the brilliant display of pink and orange and gold in the distance.

"There'll be other sunsets," he informed her.

"What if there isn't?" she asked. "What if tomorrow the whole world ended? Or I died unexpectedly in my sleep? Or you did? Than there'd be nothing left to enjoy, would there."

He considered words. Sighing heavily, he saved the work on his lap top and closed the light and sat it on the table. "Come here," he said, holding an arm out to her.

She gave a small smile and accepted the invitation. Tucking her legs underneath her, she cuddled close to his side and rested her hand on his stomach and her head on his shoulder as he wrapped his arm around her. His hand settling on her hip.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"What are you sorry for?" Flack asked, rubbing her hip softly.

"I never should have said those things to you."

"Well they were true. You are an adult and you are more than capable of speaking for yourself and making your own decisions. I get carried away sometimes. With wanting to protect you. Sometimes I don't even realize how aggressive and domineering I am. So if anyone should be apologizing, it should be me."

Sam shook her head. "I do need you, Donnie. I do need you to protect me and take care of me. I like it when you take charge and make the decisions. And I act like I'm ungrateful and spoiled and the truth of the matter is, I need you. And I don't admit that enough."

He kissed the top of her head. "I need you, too, Sam. More than I could ever tell you."

"I don't want to live here," she said. "I want our lives in New York City. Where we're happy and where our friends are and where my brother is. I don't want to be here. You know that right?"

He nodded. "I think about sometimes," he admitted. "Moving away. Joining another department in another city."

"You do?"

"Not often, but I have thought about it. But I know I wouldn't be happy anywhere else. And I know you wouldn't be either."

"Home is where the heart is," she declared, and snuggled closer to him.

"Home is wherever you are," he told her. "You and my kids. And if you wanted to live somewhere else and..."

She shook her head. "I am perfectly content where I am. Especially where I am right this very second."

He smiled.

"This feels nice, doesn't it," she stated. "Sitting here like this. Just me and you."

"Feels like heaven to me," he said. "But than I always feel that way when you're in my arms like this."

She beamed. "Normally I'd call you corny for a comment like that," she giggled. "But I'm in a tingly, loving kind of mood at the moment. I had some of those strawberries my dad dipped in chocolate. And well, you know what the mix of the two does to me."

He grinned. "I'd say lets go inside and take care of that tingly mood but you're mother is downstairs and she'd kill us. Hard to disguise love making when you make the noises you do."

"I'll have you know that you're the loud one," Sam told him.

"Yeah...right...sure..."

"Besides, you know we're still having that little problem. With the whole intercourse things."

"There's other things we can do. What's been sustaining us lately? Can't even do that though. Considering your mother..."

"My mother isn't home," Sam told him. "She left about half an hour ago. She's gone to some friend of hers for night out."

"Really?"

She nodded and sat up. "It's just me, you and Kieran. And he's out like a light. And Jericho's around somewhere but I don't think he'd tattle on us."

"So technically, we could go in and make all the noise in the world."

"Exactly," she smiled and covered his lips in hers in a smouldering kiss.

"I thought you wanted to watch the sunset," he said, as her lips left his and found the side of his neck and his ear.

"I'm sure there'll be more," she told him. "I plan on seeing a lot of sunsets with you, Mister Flack."

"How many?" he asked. "Like a hundred?"

"More," she replied.

"A thousand?"

"Much, much more," she said.

"A million?"

"Try gazillions and gazillions," she said, than giggled when she found herself tipped on to her back.

"That's not nearly enough," he declared, and kissed her passionately.

"Infinity than," she decided, sighing at the feel of his lips against the side of her neck and his hand fondling her breast through her shirt. "I think you should take me inside and make love to me now," she told him.

"We don't have to..."

"I want to," she said. "Well, try to at least."

"Trying is the best part," he concluded her, and kissing her one last time, slipped off of the glider. "You want Rhett Butler or Caveman?" he asked.

"Hmmm...I think I'd like Rhett Butler tonight," she replied, and found herself scooped up into his strong, warm arms. She removed his glasses. "You're so damn adorkable," she informed her and kissed him.

"You're lucky I love you," Flack told her.

"How much to you love me?" she asked.

"A lot," he replied.

"How much is that?"

"A hell of a lot," he told her, carrying her into the room.

"Not good enough," she said.

"I love you to the stars and beyond," he tried again, gently laying her in the middle of the bed.

She smiled as he came down onto the bed over top of her, propped himself on one hand.

"I don't know," she said. "I still don't find that good enough."

"I love you to infinity," he declared. "Hows that?"

"That's a start," she said.

Thanks to everyone that is reading and reviewing! And for the awesome messages of support from all of you! I appreciate each and every one of you and promise to keep going! And to all the lurkers, thanks for reading! But please, please drop me a line!

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