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

A/N: SO WE HAVE A WINNER! LOOKS LIKE IT'S A TURKS AND CAICOS WEDDING FOR SAM AND FLACK IN THE NEW STORY! THANKS TO ALL OF THOSE WHO VOTED!

HUGE THANKS TO ALL OF THOSE ADDING ME AND MY STORIES TO ALERTS AND FAVS!

Tell me your secrets, tell me no lies

"Don't cry, it'll get better
In time you'll soon forget it
You'll be fine right now it hurts some
But the healing hasn't happened yet
The pain won't always be there
And someday after the fall, your scrapes and scratches will remind you
Of the hurt you left behind you and you'll see
That scars are beautiful
Each scar is living proof and they tell the truth
About places that you've been
They're all roadmaps to life's lessons made
By sacrifice and sin
And you can let them bring you down
Or you can hold your head up high
Don't let the chance you took to fall
Keep you from the chance you take to try."
-Scars are Beautiful, Paul Brandt

Danny rubbed her back comfortingly with one hand and softly stroked her hair with the other. His chin rested lightly on the top of her head, allowing the delicate scent of her perfume to permeate his senses. Her tiny hands clung to his jacket as she buried her face in his chest. To on lookers, the moment between them, beginning with a passionate argument and her storming down the sidewalk and culminating in him tenderly touching her face before she broke down and he took her in his arms, no doubt appeared intensely intimate.

Maybe in another place and another time, if their hearts hadn't belonged to others right from the get go, there could have been something there. Attraction was a hard thing to deny. But while both had, despite Sam laughing off his pitiful attempts at flirting, felt a little something that first day they met, neither had gone that extra step. Not relationship wise, anyway. Danny had still been pining after Lindsay and out of fear of being alone for the rest of his life, entered into what he thought was forever with Erica. And Sam had fallen hard and fast for Flack. What had transpired between her and Danny after one night had been a tight knit bond. A big brother, little sister thing that neither of them were willing to sacrifice.

"It's okay, Brooklyn," he whispered, running his hand down her silky hair. 'Don't cry…shhh…there's no reason to cry."

"Why would she keep something like that from me?" Sam sobbed. "Why would my mother not tell me about this? About him?"

"Sometimes we keep things back so we don't hurt people we love the most," Danny told her. "Maybe she felt it was better for you not to know."

"All my life I grew up wondering how in the hell my father could have done what he did. How any man could do that to their own daughter. And then I find out he wasn't even my father. And he probably knew it too! That's probably why he did what he did. To punish me."

"Your father, who you thought was your father? He was a sick bastard and neither you, or Adam, deserved what happened to you guys."

She shook her head. "You don't understand. It wasn't just that, Danny. That wasn't the only thing he did to me."

He felt his body tense up and could taste the bile that rose in his throat. "Your father did other things to you?" he asked, unable to get the words out. Afraid that just saying them would either make him sick to his stomach or send him into an uncontrollable rage. Child molesters were the lowest of the low. And as far as Danny was concerned, they all deserved to be lined up and shot and pissed on. After being slowly and painfully tortured for hours on end.

She nodded.

"Does anyone else know?" Danny asked.

"I told Don right after Kieran was born. He'd come home talking about a case and one thing led to another and I ended up just coming out with it. Adam always knew. He just never said anything to me about it. And my mom…" she sniffled noisily. "I'm pretty sure that she knew it was going on at the time."

Danny sighed heavily and closed his eyes briefly. "I am so sorry, Brooklyn," he whispered. "You didn't deserve that. And you didn't deserve the things that I said to you. About you being out here to cheat on Flack and how this Lincoln Scott is the real baby daddy."

"I'd never cheat on him," Sam said, drawing away from her friend and releasing her tight grip on his jacket. "I love him too much. He's my everything. I don't know what I'd ever do without him."

"Guy would curl up and die without you," Danny told her, reaching out to use the pads of both thumbs to clear tears off of her cheeks. "You know that, right? You're his world. You and K and those babies in there."

"I know," she said with a smile, rubbing her stomach.

"And you and K and those babies mean the world to me and Linds. And when she called me and told me you'd come here all my yourself…"

"Wasn't one of my best moments," Sam sighed. "I just…I wanted to deal with this on my own. I needed to deal with this on my own."

"But you're not on your own, Brooklyn. You've got them babies in you twenty-four seven. And you putting them at risk like that…"

"Dumb," she declared. "Very dumb."

"And Flack's my best friend. I'm disgustingly protective of the guy and you know that. So hearing you'd come here to visit some guy? That kinda hit me the wrong way. I never should have jumped to conclusions. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," she assured him. "I can see where you'd think there was something suspicious and scandalous going on. I never should have come here on my own."

"Promise me that the next time you want to take a road trip, you'll ask one of us to go along."

"I promise."

"A'right," he said, pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek before laying a hand on the small of her back, intending to lead her back to his Avalanche. "Let's get you the hell out of here and get you home where you belong. If you're a good girl, I might stop off at a Mickey D's and get you one of them Oreo flurries you like so much."

She giggled and wrapped an arm around his waist. "You're a man after my own heart, Daniel Messer."

"You realize that you and Montana are the only two people in the free world that call me Daniel and get away with it? My own mother knows I don't tolerate that crap."

"It's because you love me and Linds more than life itself," Sam teased.

"You two are something else," Danny laughed. "Gonna put me and Flack in early graves. I think that you two live to…"

"Hope I'm not interrupting something," a familiar voice said in way of greeting.

Both Sam and Danny stopped dead in their tracks. Eyes widening in surprise at the sight of their boss leaning against the side of Danny's Avalanche with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Mac? What are you doing here?" Sam asked.

"I was in the neighbourhood checking on a case," he replied. He turned his eyes on Danny. "Thought you were on the clock," he said.

"I was. But I got a call that Sammie was in Crown Heights and might be in trouble so I acted on my instinct and drove here to pick her up. I didn't want anything happening to her and the babies. And with Flack out of town…"

"You have a load of cases waiting for your attention back at the lab," Mac told him. "You don't have time to be driving all over New York City acting a bodyguard and chauffeur."

"I wasn't going to leave her in Crown Heights," Danny argued. "And I doubt you would have either."

"If she had have called me and asked me to come and pick her up, I would have been here in a heartbeat," Mac said. "But obviously she called you and from what I witnessed, I think I can take a guess at why she chose you."

Danny's eyes narrowed. "What's that suppose to mean?" he asked.

"The two of you out here where it's highly unlikely anyone you know will see you. You're suppose to be on the clock, Samantha's husband is out of town. It's a perfect time for something like this. You're best friends with Flack, she's best friends with Lindsay. You two have been extremely close since Samantha started working here. Neither Flack or Lindsay probably suspect there's anything more to the two of you than a tight friendship."

Sam frowned. "What? You actually think that Danny and I…?"

"It's quite obvious from what I saw that…"

Danny's bark of laughter cut Mac's sentence off. "From what you saw? What did you see?"

"I saw the two of you in front of the Avalanche, right where you're standing now, having a passionately intense argument. Samantha slapped you and attempted to take off and you chased after her. I saw you touch her face and than her break down and you embrace her. Very intimate happenings between two people that are just friends."

"We are just friends," Danny informed the older man. "There's nothing intimate between us. Maybe a long time ago before things between her and Flack really got off the ground, but once Flack was in the picture and Sam made it clear she was in love with him, that was that. We're tight. She's like a little sister to me. And there was nothing intimate in the way that I touched her face or held her when she broke down. I was comforting her. That's it."

"It looked like a lot more than that," Mac said.

"I don't give a rat's ass what it looked like," Danny snapped. "Sam and I know what kind of relationship we have. We don't have to defend ourselves to you or anyone else."

"Danny…" Sam's voice was quiet as she laid a soothing hand on his arm. "It's okay. Don't…."

"No it's not okay," he argued. "It's not okay. Mac only saw what was happening between us. He didn't hear what was going down. And for him to just assume something like that…."

"I think you should go back to the lab now, Danny," Mac instructed him. "You're still on the clock. And when you're on the clock, I expect you to be doing actual work. And there's tons of it waiting back for you at the lab."

"I just want to take Samantha home," Danny told him. "I just want to get and the babies home safe and sound."

"I'll take Samantha home," Mac said. "You and Samantha have spent enough time together today."

Danny snorted. "Just because you make infidelity a common practice, Mac, doesn't mean Sam and I are jumping on that band wagon."

"Danny!" Sam gasped, horrified that he'd talk that way to their boss.

"Call me when you get in," Danny told her, rubbing her back softly. "Or get Linds to call me. Just so I know you and the trippies got there in one piece."

"I will," she promised.

"You need anything between now and when Flack gets home, you just give me a call. A'right?"

She nodded. "Thanks, Danny."

"No problem," he kissed her cheek. "Be good, Brooklyn," he said, laying a hand on the top of her head and running it down her hair to the small of her back. "No more road trips, okay?"

"Okay," she said with a small laugh, and watched as her friend stepped past their boss without even so much as a single word or glance as he went around to the driver's side of the Avalanche. She and Mac stood on the sidewalk in silence as they watched Danny climb in behind the wheel, slam the door and turn on the ignition.

Sam sighed heavily as the Avalanche peeled away from the curb and then glanced back at the small apartment building behind her.

"You're okay?" Mac asked in a soft, concerned voice.

Sam nodded. "I had some personal things to take care of. Danny just…."

"A lot of people stand to get hurt from this, Samantha," Mac told her. "Flack and Lindsay for starters. Kieran. The babies you're carrying. Do you really want to lose your marriage and your family for…"

"For what?" she challenged. "For Danny Messer? Anything Danny and I had stopped at one night long before Don and I decided that we wanted a serious commitment with each other. Don and I were seeing each other," she made air quotes around the word seeing. "When he decided he'd had enough of having more than one woman in his life and wanted to give something permanent a go with me, both of us made a decision, together, to be with each other. And only each other."

"And now?" Mac asked.

"And now Danny and I are friends. He's like a brother to me. He's Kieran's godfather. He's Don's best friend. There's no feelings between the two of us. He's crazily in love with Lindsay. They're finally back together and happy. And they deserve that. I'd certainly never do anything to hurt her."

"And Flack? Does he know? About you and Danny?"

"No. And there's no reason he has to. It happened before he got his head out of ass about what he wanted from me and him. He did his thing and I did mine. And once we got together seriously, that all stopped."

"Don't you think he'd like to know that his best friend once had an intimate relationship with his wife?"

"It wasn't a relationship, Mac! It was one night. A twelve hour span we spent together. That's it. And I really don't see why you're asking me all of this. You never get involved in any of the team's personal lives. So why now?"

"When I have to worry about something causing friction between you and Flack or Danny and Flack, that's when I get involved," Mac informed her. "Because if there's that kind of friction, the integrity of the entire lab could be comprised. I'd rather stop the problem before it even arises."

"There is nothing going on between Danny and I," Sam remained adamant. "I'd never do that to my husband."

"And you're here in Crown Heights because…?"

"That's personal, Mac. So with all due respect, I'd rather not talk about that."

Mac sighed heavily. "And Danny came all this way to help you out?"

"Lindsay got worried when I didn't come home when I said I would. She tried calling me and I ignored her. She freaked and by chance found out where I was and she asked Danny to come and get me. There's nothing scandalous or inappropriate about it."

Mac raised a sceptical eyebrow.

"I don't have to defend myself to you, Mac. I love you like a father and you know that. But what went on here today, what brought me here? It's nothing for you to be concerned about. So please, just walk away and let me go on my merry way."

"I'm not walking away. I'm not leaving you here in the middle of Crown Heights to fend for yourself. You don't want to tell me what you were here for? That's fine. But if you consider me like a father, than let me hand out some tough love. Which is something you've obviously needed to be handed for a long time only no one had the guts to give it to you."

"I don't have to listen to this," Sam huffed, and attempted to walk away.

Mac caught her by the wrist and pulled her back to him. "The truth hurts to hear it, but you are going to stand here and you are going to hear it. Because you need to. You may be a wife and a mother, but you have a hell of a lot of growing up to do."

She gave a small, dry laugh and shook her head and looked away from him.

"You coming out here? Alone and pregnant? Getting yourself caught in what could easily be construed as an intimate moment between you and your husband's best friend? Not only was that a stupid position to put yourself in, but a damn dangerous one for you and your unborn children. You know what this neighbourhood is like! I get this desire to hold onto some of your independence. But you don't just have yourself to worry about. Not only to you have three babies to worry about, you have a son at home! And a husband that would go crazy with grief if anything ever happened to you! It's not just you anymore, Samantha! And you need to stop acting like you don't care about anyone but yourself!"

"I'm Don's wife, Mac! I'm not some possession that he can keep under lock and key!"

"You are his wife! And the day that you took his name was the day he was given the right to worry about you and protect you and do his damndest to stop you from doing stupid, immature, selfish things like you did today!"

"And what went wrong with you and Stella, Mac?" Sam countered. "How come nothing stopped you from doing some stupid and immature and selfish?"

Mac's eyes narrowed. "We're done talking about this," he said dismissively. "Let's go," he firmly tugged her in the direction of the street. "I'll take you home."

"I am more than capable of finding my own way home," she argued, trying to pull her wrist out of his strong, firm grasp.

"You want to act like a spoiled, immature and selfish brat?" Mac asked, leading the way off the curb. "You have some kind of little girl versus possessive, controlling daddy complex? Then that's how I'll act."

"This is fucking ridiculous," Sam huffed.

"What's ridiculous is that you've been behaving like this for so long," Mac told her, pulling her behind him as he hurriedly crossed the street. He tossed open the passenger door to his Avalanche. "Get in," he ordered.

"Excuse me?"

"Get. In," he repeated.

"If you're getting like this because Don opened his big mouth about me liking it when you go all Marine on someone…"

"Get in the goddamn truck!" Mac bellowed.

She blinked at the anger in his voice. And realizing it was a no win situation fighting with Mac Taylor, relented to the firm hand on the back of her neck pushing her towards the open door and climbed into the truck.

Mac slammed the door closed and went around to the driver's side and slipped in behind the wheel. "I hope that some kind of good comes out of you doing such a stupid thing," he said, digging the keys out of his jacket pocket before angrily jamming them into the ignition and starting the engine.

"I did what I thought was best," she said, voice quiet. "For me and my family."

"The best thing for you and your family is not putting yourself in danger," Mac informed her as he pulled away from the curb.

"It was something I needed to do on my own, Mac," she argued. "I know what it probably looked like to you. To see me and Danny like that. But he only came here as a friend because he was worried about me. I didn't do anything wrong."

Mac didn't respond.

"I couldn't tell Don or Adam because I don't know really know if it's the truth or not myself," she said.

"You're talking in riddles, Samantha. What's that suppose to mean?"

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I came here today because my step father told me that there was this guy, someone from my mother's past, that he thought I should talk to."

"Because?"

"Because my step father thinks that this guy, Lincoln Scott, is my real father."

Mac arched and eyebrow and glanced over at her. "I thought your real father…"

"He's dead. The man that I thought was my real father is dead. There's no doubt about that. Trust me."

"So then this Lincoln Scott…"

"He had a thing with my mother and she dumped him but found out shortly after that she was pregnant with me. So my mom was never sure who my father actually was."

Mac contemplated the news she'd just shared with him. "And what do you think, Samantha?" he asked, his voice gentle. "What's your gut telling you?"

"It's telling me that this Lincoln Scott is my father. We look alike to some extent. He saw me in the hospital just after I was born. My mom kept in contact with him. He knows things about me, Mac. Things I did when I was in school. Sports I played. He knew Chester Lake was my first real boyfriend. He has pictures of me. From the time I was a baby all the way until grade eleven. After that I left for Arizona and he said all contact with my mother stopped."

"And why didn't he make an effort as you got older, while you were still here, to become a part of your life?" Mac asked. "Why didn't he, when he thought he was your father, find out for sure?"

"He said that he was messed up. That he was in no position to take care of a kid. And that he had no idea what kind of hell I was living in. And to be completely honest, even if he had have come around, I never would have left Adam there to deal with our father on his own. Adam's my baby brother. I never would have abandoned him."

"Are you going to tell him about this Lincoln Scott?" Mac asked.

"I don't know," she admitted. "I don't know what I'm going to do or who I'm going to tell what to."

"First thing you should do is get a DNA test."

"I asked him for something of his that I could take back to the lab. He said he'd have to think about it."

"What's there to think about?"

Sam shrugged.

"If you manage to get something of his, or convince him to let you come back and swab him, I can run the test personally," Mac told her. "So that no one outside of myself and you know what the result is."

She looked over at her boss. "You'd do that for me?" she asked.

He nodded. "There's no sense getting Adam worked up for no reason. If the test comes back this Lincoln Scott isn't your father, then there was no harm, no foul. If it comes back that it is, then it's up to you to decided when, and how to tell your brother."

"Thank you, Mac."

"Let me know when, and if, you have anything to test and I'll get right on it."

"I really appreciate it," she said. "I don't want to get Adam all freaked out. You know what he gets like when he gets worked up about something."

Mac grinned. "A distracted, flustered Adam Ross is not a pretty picture. As if he isn't scattered enough. And when he does that rambling thing…"

"It's a Ross thing apparently. In case you haven't noticed, I do it all the time."

"I've noticed," Mac said with a smile. "It's actually quite appealing and charming at times. Only coming from you, of course."

"Well I'm glad someone thinks so," Sam said. "Because it drives Don insane. He says my rambling gets on his nerves. That it's like nails on a chalkboard."

"I'm sure there's things that he does that get on your nerves."

"Tons," Sam laughed. "Leaves the toilet seat up no matter how many times I remind him not to do it. I'm constantly picking underwear and socks up off of the floor and finding empty bags of milk in the fridge and dirty, grungy dishes in the sink. But you know what? All the amazing things he does with Kieran and watching him be a father and seeing him try so hard to be a good dad and a good husband? All of that stuff makes up for the million and one things he does that annoy the shit out of me."

"That's the amazing thing about love," Mac said. "You're able to overlook the bad and concentrate on the good. Even during the hardest of times. Claire used to grind her teeth. In her sleep. Drove me absolutely insane. To the point where I had to put ear plugs in just to get a decent night's rest. But not once did I ever leave the bedroom and sleep somewhere without her. Because feeling her against me and breathing in her scent? That was worth putting up with her bad habit."

Sam smiled. "You still miss her, don't you," it was more of a statement than a question.

"Every day," Mac admitted. "I've gone on with my life, but I've never completely closed those chapters that consisted of me and Claire."

"Do you ever think that maybe that's why you can't really truly be happy?" Sam asked. "That that's why it seems to be a constant struggle to be with someone? Because the only time you were truly happy was when you were with Claire?"

Mac gave a small laugh. "Now I can appreciate the running joke that you're the lab's reigning Doctor Phil. Asking me something like that."

"I prefer Oprah," Sam said. "And I'm only this way because I TiVO talk shows all the time. I was up until three am yesterday watching Jerry Springer and Maury Povich."

"You are NOT the father," Mac declared, and chuckled heartily.

Sam beamed. "You watch Maury?"

"It's my guilty pleasure," Mac admitted. "No one knows that but you."

Sam made a zippering motioning across her lips with her thumb and forefinger. "Your secret is safe with me, Mac Taylor."

"And what about you?" he asked. "I shared something personal. Now it's your turn."

"You know everything there is to know about what happened today," she said.

"I mean something else. Something funny. Or maybe something that isn't funny. Just something that no one else knows about you. Not even Don."

A slow grin spread across her face. "That could get a little racy, Mac," she said. "I don't think your heart could take hearing something like that."

"I am not THAT old," he informed her.

"Anything that is even remotely dirty I prefer to keep to myself," Sam laughed. "But there is one thing that no one knows. Except for Adam, my mother, and Don."

"You don't have to tell me, Samantha. I was just teasing you."

"No…it's okay. It was a long time ago and I've dealt with it and put it behind me."

"Samantha, you don't…"

"You know that Chester Lake was my first boyfriend, right?"

Mac nodded.

"Things were a lot more, how should I say this? Intense then I let on. At first, I told Donnie that Chester and I had never slept together. Only because my husband has this issue with insane jealously and I didn't see a reason for him to freak out over something that happened when I was fifteen and he would have been twelve. Then I decided that what kind of marriage did we have if we couldn't talk about past mistakes and what not."

"It's good that the two of you can be so honest."

"Donnie can be very understanding and compassionate when he gets over his initial shock and stops being pissed off. When I was young, I got pregnant. I had just turned fifteen. Chester was my first for everything. I seriously thought he was going to be my forever. And we weren't as careful as we should have been and I ended up pregnant."

"And the baby?"

"We both knew that we weren't ready to have a child. I mean, he was seventeen and I was fifteen. We were both babies ourselves. We had no money, no stable homes to even raise a baby in. So I decided to carry to term and then give the baby up."

Mac's eyes widened.

"It was a little girl," Sam told him. "Chester was in the deliver room and he got to hold her before she was handed over to her new family."

"You didn't want to hold her?"

Sam shook her head as she stared out the window. "I wouldn't have been able to let her go if I had have. And she needed more then what I could give her. I saw her briefly. She had all this dark hair and she was healthy. Chester named her Maliha. Strong and beautiful in Mohawk. Her new family ended up calling her something more simple. Sara."

"Do you know where she is?" Mac asked.

"I wanted nothing to do with her. It was just too painful to deal with. But Chester told me that she found him about two years ago."

"And?"

"And I guess she keeps in contact with him now."

"Has he told her about you?"

Sam shook her head. "I asked him to tell her that he didn't know where her mother was. Because I can't cope with that Mac. I can't deal with having a nineteen year old. I have a husband and a fifteen month old son and babies on the way. Having her in the mix too…" she sighed. "I know this sounds awful, but there's no room for her in my life."

"Has she ever asked to meet you?"

"Apparently she's told him that she wants to find me. That she has my name from the agency we placed her with. But she's been too afraid to do it because she thinks, if I didn't want her then, why would I want her now?"

"That seems like a reasonable thing to be frightened about."

"I know she'll find me eventually," Sam sighed. "But I just can't…I don't know…I can't do that to Donnie…expect him to just welcome her with open arms. We have a family together. Children of our own. And asking him to take on something like that? That's not fair to him."

"She's your daughter, Samantha," Mac told her. "And I know Flack. I've worked with him for a long time. And despite the way he comes across on the job, I know that he's a very sensitive, open minded young man. That he has a lot of compassion and love inside of him and that he'd welcome her, as part of you, into his family."

"It's not his child, Mac. He doesn't have to take care of her and accept her into anything."

"She may not be his, by blood, but you're her mother. And you're his wife and the mother of his children. And those children are your daughter's siblings."

Sam sighed heavily. "I know…I know…I just…do you think we could talk about something else now? My brain feels like it's going to explode from all of this. And you never answered my question."

"What question?" he asked.

"About Claire. About that being the only time you were truly happy."

"I loved Claire with every fibre of my being," Mac responded. "And I miss her every day. And while I love Stella and I hope things one day can work out, I'm not entirely optimistic."

"And are you in love with Karly?" Sam asked.

"I wouldn't know if I'd call it love…" he admitted.

"I hope that you decide what you really want, Mac. That you find out what, or who, makes you happy. Because you're too nice of a person and too handsome of a man to just have to settle."

He smiled. "There was a woman that I met, that came into my life, that I was very interested in," he admitted.

"And what happened? She wasn't into you? Her loss if you ask me. "

"I never told her. It was just something that I felt from afar. And even if I had have told her, I think it would have been completely unrequited."

"Why?"

"She was a quite a bit younger than me. I was in a position of authority and nothing good could have ever come from us being together even if she did feel the same way."

"Hmmm…did she ever give you any kind of sign she might have been into you?"

"Honestly? I don't know. What could have been just innocent flirting could have actually been a lot more."

"And where's this girl now?" Sam asked.

"Far out of reach."

The tiny brunette nodded slowly. "I think I know who you're talking about," she said.

Mac blinked. "You do?"

Sam nodded once more. "The girl that died shortly before Donnie got injured in the bombing. The one you had to fire because she almost tampered with evidence. The Brooklyn girl. Aiden."

Mac just smiled. Neither confirming it or denying it. "You know what I feel like?" he asked, anxious to change the subject.

"What's that?" Sam asked.

"Ice cream. I know for a fact that you love ice cream given all the times I run into you in one day and you're eating the damn stuff."

"I love ice cream," Sam declared. "Especially mint chocolate chip."

At those words, and the memories said flavour of ice cream invoked, she burst into giggles and her face and ears went scarlet red from the sheer embarrassment of thinking of such things while in the company of her boss.

"What's so funny?" Mac asked, a broad smile on his face.

"Nothing…I'm sorry…I just…mint chocolate chip ice cream holds a special place in my heart…a special, dirty place, actually…ignore me…I'm fine."

The more she laughed, the more red her face became. And the more that musical sound filled the truck, the broader Mac Taylor's smile became. And when she began hiccupping, her entire body quaking as she was seized by the dreaded things, his laughter became entwined with hers.

It was the first time in a long time, that he'd been truly happy.

It was well after midnight by the time Flack finally arrived home. It had been a long, tedious day of dealing with clueless detectives and a crime lab that was completely and utterly useless and incompetent. It was no wonder they had to call in 'experts' from New York City to straighten out the mess, both case wise and public relations wise, that was Congressman Eric Garth. It had been three years since the dead drag Queen in the men's washroom at a mid-town hotel. Garth hadn't been the one responsible in the end, but the DNA off the baby rattle that Flack had snagged, had been enough to prove that Garth was the one responsible for raping the victim's sister decades ago. Garth had gotten off thanks to someone strong arming the poor girl into recanting the statement she'd given to police. But Flack had known, standing there with Stella three years ago, that that man was not only guilty as all shit, but probably the biggest dick to ever walk the face of the earth.

The DA in Connecticut was dragging their heels big time. A young girl with only two years experiencing handling big trials and probably scared right shitless that someone would come after her for 'fucking over' the Congressman. Flack was pretty sure she was feeling heat from all sides, and that the Connecticut crime lab was being crapped all over as well. But there was no way in hell that he wasn't going to go in there and try to get that sonofabitch tossed in jail where he belonged.

Despite the lab boss and Connecticut PD's Chief of Detectives both telling him that his services would no longer be required, that he'd done enough to secure a conviction, Flack knew damn well he'd be making that drive in the near future. Whether it be to hold their damn hands through a preliminary trial or to testify himself, it was only a matter of time.

For now, he was just glad to be home.

He quietly unlocked and opened the door and slipped inside the apartment. Sam had left the light above the kitchen sink on, along with one of the side table lamps in the living room. He locked up the dead bolt and slid the chain across the door before toeing off his shoes and setting them on the rubber mat next to the door. Alongside of Kieran' s Diego running shoes. Flack chuckled to himself at the massive size difference between his dress shoes and those impossibly tiny runners. It was hard to believe that anything could be that small. Yet compared to what K's feet had looked like when he was an infant, those Diego shoes were monstrous. And that light hearted feeling Flack had had suddenly turned into a heavy, sad one. At the thought that his first born, his baby, was growing up so damn fast.

Pretty soon it would be potty training and pre-school. Than it would be kindergarten. Soon after he'd be wanting to take the school bus on his own and not wanting mommy and daddy to hold his hand while walking down the street or crossing the road. The time would come for the loss of his first tooth. And before his parents could ask where all the time had gone, he'd be going off to high school and bringing home a girlfriend, or two, and suffering his first broken heart. Or breaking one. Or two. And after that it would be time to learn to drive and time to think about college. Followed by marriage and kids. Hopefully in that order.

I am just not ready to think about all of this, Flack thought with a sigh, squeezing his eyes shut to rid the tears that threatened to take over him. It's way too early in my life to be contemplating things like this. I just want him to be little. Let him be little. Forever.

Gathering himself, Flack moved to the hall closet and shrugged out of his trench coat and suit jacket and hung both on the same hanger. It wasn't until he closed the doors back up, that he noticed the small post it note attached to them. At his eye level so there was no way he could miss it.

Wake me up when you get in. Love, me

He smiled at the simple, yet loving words and went into the kitchen. Depositing his keys and wallet on the microwave before heading out into the living room and flicking off the lamp before journeying down the darkened hallway. He went into Kieran's room first. No night was complete without a visit to his boy's bedside. First thing he always did when he arrived home from a late shift and Sam and the baby were already in bed was creep into K's room to check on him. It had been that way since Kieran was a tiny infant. And Flack felt no need, or desire, to give up that practice any time soon.

Kieran was out like a light. Lying on his back with his arms splayed wide and his legs, as usually, sticking out of the bars of the crib. Right to his knees. One wrong move or a the simple act of rolling over in his sleep would clearly sprain, or even bust the kid's legs.

"Time for a big boy bed soon, K," Flack whispered, tucking his son's legs back in and moving the toddler further up his crib.

Of course, a big boy bed in this case was actually a toddler bed that was already being stored at Flack's parents' place. A Diego themed bed that could fit Kieran's present crib mattress and go perfectly in his own bedroom once they were in their house.

Kieran sighed contently and rolled over onto his side and shoved his thumb in his mouth. Flack grabbed the blanket laying in a heap in the far corner of the crib and covered his son to the shoulders with it before running a hand over Kieran's hair and leaning over, and into, the crib to press a soft kiss to his son's head.

"I love you, buddy," he said in the dark. "Daddy will always love you. No matter what. Don't you ever forget that okay?"

Another sigh. Some mumbled garbled around the thumb stuck firmly in the tiny mouth.

Flack stood for several more minutes, just watching his son sleep. Never wanting Kieran to grow up and have to face the injustices and horror of the world. He had been through so much at such a tender age that his father wanted nothing more than to keep him a baby forever.

It was impossible and Flack knew that. Not to mention it was totally unhealthy to even entertain such thoughts. And he kissed his son one more time before stepping away from that crib and slipping out of that quiet, peaceful room.

Sam had fallen asleep while reading in bed. The bedside lamp was still on and a bottle of vitamin water was resting alongside of it. She was on her side, a pillow tucked between her legs to take the pressure off of her pregnant stomach, her glasses still on her face and a Tom Clancy novel -Clear and Present Danger, which Flack swore she'd read at least a dozen times since he'd known her- dangling from her fingertips.

He smiled at the sight of her so comfortable and peaceful and reached out to gently removed the book from her loose grasp. There was a bookmark sitting on the night stand. A brightly coloured macramé thing she'd bought for fifty cents at some garage sale she'd forced him to stop at when they'd made their most recent trip to their new house to talk to an electrician about all the things that needed to be upgraded or replaced. Sam was a garage sale junkie. She had never met a garage sale she didn't like. Much to Flack's dismay.

He shoved the bookmark into place and dropped the novel onto the night table. Crouching down next to the bed, he reached out with a gentle hand and trailed two fingers softly down her face. Starting at the centre of her forehead and moving down her nose and across her lips.

She murmured and brought a hand up to brush away the offending object that had so rudely tickled her in the midst of a pleasant sleep.

"Sammie?" he spoke quietly and placed a kiss to her hips. "Sammie? Wake up, baby."

"Hmmm?" she mumbled, not opening her eyes.

He kissed her once again. This time longer. Grinning against her lips when he felt her hand come up to rest on the back of his neck and her mouth opening as she kissed him eagerly in return.

"You just wanted me to kiss you awake," he said, when they finally broke apart.

"Like sleeping beauty," she giggled.

"Only much more beautiful," he told her.

She beamed. "You are so damn sappy, Donald."

"I reserve my sappiness just for you," he said.

"You just got in?" Sam asked.

"About half an hour ago," he replied, taking off his glasses and setting them on the nightstand. He closed his eyes briefly and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.

"How did it go?"

"It went," he told her with a sigh. "The lab and the detectives there are hopeless. And the DA?" he snorted.

"Do you have to go back?"

"Probably not until a pre-lim," he said. "How have you been? Okay?"

She nodded.

"And the babies?" he asked, laying a hand on her stomach and pressing a kiss to it.

"They've behaved themselves admirably. Lots of movement but nothing too insane."

"That's good," he said. "So you've been able to relax a bit? Get some decent sleep?"

"A bit. I tried to wait up for you, but Kieran wore me out with his antics."

Flack frowned. "He was that bad?"

"No…he was just Kieran. Lots and lots of playing. I'm getting worn out, Donnie."

"You have to start taking it easy now, Sammie. I don't want you getting carried away and having him knee you in the stomach or something. Promise me you'll take it easy."

"I promise," she said, and kissed him softly. "Come to bed, Donnie. I want to talk to you about something."

"We can't talk about it right now?"

"Come to bed, Donnie," she repeated, reaching out to loosen his tie and undo the top two buttons on his shirt.

"Is talk a code word for something else?" he teased.

She smiled. "Depending on how the real talking goes, if you're a good boy, I may treat you to a little something."

He grinned and kissed her. Long and intense and passionate. "Is it something I need to worry about?" he asked, standing up and taking off his tie and un-tucking his shirt.

She shook her head. "It's just something I need to tell you."

"Is it bad?"

"Please just come to bed, Donnie."

He nodded in response and finished undressing.

Hoping to God that whatever it was his wife had to tell him, they would get through it.

Intact.

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