DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CSI:NY OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS. I DO HOWEVER OWN SAMANTHA FLACK AND KIERAN FLACK.
Quick to jump
"You've got all that I need
Looking at all or nothing
Babe it's you and I
With you I know that
I am good for something
So lets go give it a try
We got our backs against the ocean
It's just us against the world
Looking at all or nothing
Babe it's you and I
Looking at all or nothing
Babe it's you and I."
-All of Nothing, Theory of a Deadman
Flack wasn't sure how long they sat there in the rumbled queen sized bed. Not movement, no conversation. No sound in that bedroom save for their steady breathing and the soft ticking from the watch gracing his right wrist. He sat, in a pair of green, white and plaid pyjama bottoms and a tattered and faded NYPD t-shirt, leaning back against the headboard while anxiously waiting for her to drop whatever bomb she had stored away on him. His arm was wrapped tightly around her, his hand resting on her hip as she snuggled in close, her head on his chest and her hand on his stomach. Her other hand sitting on the side of her own tummy, rubbing it in slow, gentle circles.
"There's something I need to tell you," she said, breaking the silence.
She sounded nervous. Maybe even slightly afraid. Flack had never given her a reason to be physical frightened of him. While he yelled a lot in the course of their many arguments, and there had been times when maybe he'd grabbed her by the arm a bit too hard or he slammed a few doors or broke a few things tossing them across the room out of anger, or even, in the early stages of their relationship, busted his hand putting his fist through a wall, he had never, and would never, raise a hand to her. So to hear that tremble and hesitation in her voice meant that whatever she had to say, wasn't particularly pleasant.
"Okay…" he said, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "How bad is it?"
"It's not bad, baby," she assured him. "It's just…I don't know. Slightly unsettling and more than a little surprising."
Flack sighed heavily.
"I took a little road trip today," she said.
"I know. You told me last night you were going to see Stella and the baby today. So if you're about to tell me that you took the subway instead of a cab there and back home like I asked, you can save your breath, babe. That's no surprise to me. I know what you're like."
"You do?" she asked, golden eyes twinkling as she raised her head to look at him. "And what am I like?"
"Stubborn," Flack replied, kissing her softly. "Disgustingly stubborn in fact. And it just gets even worse when you're pregnant. You and your 'I'm big girl, Miss Independent. I can take care of myself' speech you've given me time and time again."
"I'm not an invalid, Donnie," she reminded him. "I'm pregnant."
"Exactly. You're pregnant. With my babies. Three of them. You know what kind of wack jobs hang out down in the subways. And you also know, that being pregnant, you'd never be able to defend yourself. So please, I am begging you. Listen to me for a change. I don't want anything happening to you or the babies. Okay?"
"Okay," she relegated herself to the fact he was right. As usual. "I'm sorry. You know how I hate giving up every shred of my independence."
"I know," he pecked her forehead. "That's all you had to tell me? The way you sounded, I thought it was something life or death."
"There's more," she sighed. "That wasn't the road trip I was talking about. I went to Brooklyn today. Crown Heights."
"Alone?" he asked, trying to keep his voice calm and even.
She nodded.
Flack sighed heavily. "What the hell did you go there for? What was so important that you felt the need to go there?"
"His name is Lincoln Scott," she answered.
His jaw clenched and his body went rigid. Slowly removing his arm from around her body, he moved away from her. Turning his back on her as he sat on the edge of the bed.
She stared at his back, perplexed by his behaviour. "Donnie?" she reached out and rubbed his back softly. Startled when he jerked at her touch as if he'd been scalded. "What…"
"You're having an affair?"
"What?" she asked, unable to control the laugh that erupted out of her at such an absurd question. "Are you kidding me?"
"Is that who this Lincoln Scott is? Some guy you've been having a thing with?"
"Oh my God, Don. You honestly can't be serious," she said, snaking an arm around his waist.
"I'm dead serious, Samantha," he snapped, jumping to his feet and turning around to glare down at her. His blue eyes filled with both anger and hurt. "How long has it been going on for?"
"I'm not having an affair," she informed him. "How could you even think that?"
"Has it been going on for a long time? Or is it something that just started?"
She closed her eyes briefly and drew in a deep breath and released it slowly. "Don," she said sternly. "I am not having an affair. I can't believe you would even think something like that. You know how much I love you. That you and Kieran are my entire existence. I'd never do that to you."
"Don't give me that bullshit," he snarled. "You wouldn't have gone all the way to a place like Crown Heights for no reason. And the only reason that I can think of that would make you put yourself and our babies in danger, is because you've got some secret life going on there or something."
"Are you insane?" she exclaimed. "Honestly. Are you mental?"
"Are you going to answer me or not?" he bellowed.
She blinked. "Donnie, I'm not…"
"I can't fucking believe this," he muttered, then went to the dresser and began tossing open drawers.
"What are you doing?" she asked, startled by his behaviour.
"What the hell does it look like I'm doing?" he responded, yanking on some socks and a pair of jeans. "I'm leaving."
"What?" she shrieked. "What the hell is wrong with you?"
"You actually think I'm going to stick around after you told me this?"
"Told you what? I didn't say a goddamn thing!"
"Sometimes silence speaks louder then words. Or in your case, refusing to answer says it all."
"You're not giving me the chance to answer!" she cried. "You're just going off on me! You're not even listening to me!"
"Maybe because you're not saying anything."
"I am trying to tell you, Don! But you're not giving me a chance!"
"I'll probably just crash over at Danny and Lindsay's for the night. In case something happens to Kieran or the babies and you need me. Tomorrow we can decide a more permanent solution."
"I don't want a permanent solution! I want my husband to listen to me instead of jumping to conclusions and thinking he knows everything!" she yelled. "For fuck sakes, Donald!" she beat her fists on the and fought the urge to scream. "You're acting so goddamn immature!"
"How do you want me to act? You want me to say it's okay that you're fucking around behind my back? You want me to give you permission to continue?"
"I want you to shut the fuck up and listen to me!" she screamed.
"Don't you fucking talk to me like that, Samantha!"
"And don't you fucking accuse me of cheating on you!" she retorted. "Now sit your ass down and hear me out instead of acting like you're thirteen instead of thirty-two!"
He blinked at the fury and aggression in her voice. Holding his hands up in surrender, he leaned back against the dresser, his arms crossed over his chest. "I'm listening," he said.
"Don't be such a condescending sonofabitch," she huffed.
"You want to explain? Explain."
"I can't honestly believe you would ever, ever think I would cheat on you."
"I'm waiting, Samantha," he snapped.
"Lincoln Scott is my birth father!" she yelled. "Okay? He's my father. My real father."
"I thought your real father was dead."
"The man that I thought was my real father, wasn't. This guy is."
"And this guy just happened to show up out of nowhere announcing this or…"
She sighed heavily and raked her hand through her hair. "Sarge told me when we were in Phoenix that he thought there was someone from my mother's past that I needed to talk to. That my mother always wondered if this guy, Lincoln Scott, was my real father."
"So you've known this guy for almost two months now?" Flack asked, looking and sounding sceptical.
"No. It took me that long to get up the nerve to approach him."
"How'd you find him?"
"I looked him up in the phone book. I can read, you know."
"And how'd you know he didn't have a record or…"
"Are you forgetting what I do for a living? I do know how to log into CODIS and the NYPD data base. He came up completely clean and I found his address and I went to see him. To let him know that he had a daughter out there in the city."
"And what happened? He just open the door and hug you and kiss you and claim you as his own?"
She narrowed her eyes. "Don't be like that," she said.
"I'm not being like anything. I'm just asking the questions. The hard questions. Excuse me if this all sounds a little too screwed up to be true. If it sounds like you're trying to bullshit me just a little bit."
"I am not trying to bullshit you," Sam said. "I'm telling you the truth. When have I ever lied to you?"
He smirked and shook his head. "You don't want me answering that."
"What the hell is that suppose to mean?"
"Oh I don't know, Samantha. I guess it means that since we met, you've lied about a lot."
"Like what?" she asked angrily. "Enlighten me."
"Where do you want me to start? From the very beginning? When you looked me dead in the eye and told me that you were never involved with Zack? That he was just some guy from Phoenix that was harassing you 'cause he couldn't take no for an answer. Or how about not telling me that your brother Adam's name wasn't even Adam Ross? That it was something completely different because you had your mother's maiden name and Adam just changed it to Ross sometime before college 'cause he didn't want anything to do with your dad tied to him."
"I told you that about Zack because I didn't think you needed to know about my personal life just yet. I had just met you and…"
"I knew you for all of what? Five hours when you called me asking for my help with that asshole? Remember that? When I came to your brother's apartment? Willingly? To help you out? Or did you forget about that?"
"I never…"
"Did you forget about me kissing you in the kitchen? And that you kissed me back? You forget that too?"
"Of course I didn't forget any of that."
"There was something between us, Sammie. Even then. We were attracted to each other. You trusted me enough to call me and ask for help. But you didn't think I needed to know the truth about you and Zack?"
"Donnie, we've been through this a million times. And as far as my brother changing his name and the whole sordid mess with my parents, I didn't lie. I just never told you."
"And that just makes it totally excusable," he snorted and shook his head. "How about Chester Lake? How you swore to me that nothing sexual ever happened between the two of you?"
"Donnie, I told you that so you wouldn't freak out."
"And what?" he laughed. "Didn't I freak out in the end anyway when you finally did admit it? How do you think that felt, Sammie? To hear my wife tell me that she'd gotten pregnant at fifteen and gave the baby up for adoption. That the father is someone that works for me who still has contact with this now nineteen year old girl. To hear that somewhere out there I have a step-daughter! Who was born when I was only twelve!"
"Donnie, I…"
"You know what it felt like to have you tell me that my son wasn't your first baby? You let on the whole time that you were pregnant with K that it was the first time you were experiencing all of that!"
"I never said that it was my first time," she said in a quiet voice, eyes downcast.
"And you never said it wasn't either." he told her.
"What do you want me to say, Don?" she asked, tears sparkling in her eyes as she lifted her head to look at him. "You told me that you accepted the reasons why I kept things from you. That you accepted me and my past."
"And I meant it, Sammie. But how, after all of that, am I just suppose to believe this crazy ass story that this Lincoln Scott is your father when all this time you thought your deceased dad, who abused you and molested you as a kid, was your real father."
"I'm telling you the truth," she said. "Lincoln Scott was involved with my mother in high school. Shortly after they broke up she found out she was pregnant with me. But she had been with him and my dad…" she made air quotes around the word dad. "…and she didn't know who my father was."
"So she kept that from you for thirty-four years?"
Sam nodded.
Flack shook his head. "Guess I know where you get your propensity for hiding things from people."
She frowned. "That's not fair, Don. Please don't be like that."
"What do you want me to be like, Samantha? Tell me what you want me to be like. What you want me to say?"
"I want you to listen to me and believe me," she said.
"That last part isn't that easy, babe. This is pretty screwed up shit."
"I know," she sighed. "Trust me, I know. But Donnie, I had to go there and see for myself."
"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked. "Why didn't you say anything to me?"
"Because it was something I needed to do by myself. I didn't want you getting involved. You've got a monster case load and you're working massive overtime and I didn't think that…"
"You didn't think what? That I'd have the time to be here for you?"
"You're busy," she said. "And I understand that sometimes I have to come second. That I…"
"You never come second," he informed her angrily. "Ever. You are my wife. You're the mother of my son. Of my unborn children. You have come first and foremost in my life since the moment I fell in love with you. So don't sit there and tell me that I wouldn't have put everything else on the back burner to be here for you."
"I'm sorry," she sighed. "I just…I didn't want you involved with everything you're dealing with right now."
"What's one more thing to deal with?" he asked. "So this Lincoln Scott guy. You think he's your father?"
She nodded. "And he's pretty sure that he's my dad, too. He has my birth announcement. Donnie. He's got pictures of me from the time I was a newborn up until grade eleven. He knows about school plays I was in and the kind of grades I got and what sports I was involved in. My mom kept in touch with me until we moved to Arizona and then he lost track of me."
"Does Adam know about this?"
Sam shook her head. "I'm not telling Adam a thing until I know for sure. I don't want to tell him and get him all worked up and then in the end find out there was nothing to all of this."
"So what are you going to do? This guy give you anything to test for DNA or…"
"He said he wants to think about it."
"What the hell is there to think about? For thirty-four years he thought he had a daughter and when it comes time to find out he chickens out?"
"He just said that a lot of time has passed and he needs to think about it."
Flack shook his head and sighed heavily and ran his hands over his face.
"I know how surreal this must seem to you, Donnie."
"In my line of work, Sammie, after the years I've been on the job, I am used to surreal. It's just…you should have told me. You should have told me about all of this and I would have went with you. You never should have went there alone."
"I know. And you never should have reacted the way you did and accused me of having an affair."
He nodded in agreement. "Guess sometimes I have a bad habit of being a bit irrational."
She arched an eyebrow. "A bit?" she asked with a laugh. "Now there's an understatement if I've ever heard one."
He gave a small smirk and pushed himself away from the dresser. "I'm sorry, baby," he said, climbing onto the bed and crawling across it until he was lying next to her. "It's all those old insecurities and shit I have. Every so often that jealous, possessive side of me comes back."
"I would never, ever cheat on you," she said. "I love you. You know that."
"I love you, too," he told her and pressed a kiss to her stomach. "I'm sorry I reacted the way I did. I shouldn't have gone off like that."
"No," she said. "You shouldn't have."
He frowned. "I'm trying to be a nice guy here."
She smiled and leaned over to kiss him softly.
"What do you want to do now, Sammie?" he asked, rubbing her stomach. "You want to try and get a court order to get this guy to cough up some DNA? 'Cause I have a judge on my shit list that would be willing to do that for me. The dirt I got on him would make him say yes in a heartbeat."
"Between your CI's and your shit list, a lot of people are at your beck and call," she said with a grin, as she slowly lowered herself onto her side, facing him.
"Just people that would be fucked if I ever opened my mouth," Flack told her. "Do you want me to make a call?"
She shook her head and brought a hand up to his face, stroking his cheek with her knuckles. Tenderness and affection in her eyes and her touch. "He was gracious and welcoming for someone who had his thirty-four year old maybe daughter just show up on his doorstep. I think I should give him some time."
"Did he say he'd call you with a decision or…"
"I said I'd give him a few days and I'd call him," Sam said, combing her fingers through his hair. Her touch soft and soothing. Their faces mere inches apart. "He asked me if I'd come back to see him. So he could get to know me better. I said that I'd come back there and see him face to face."
"I want to go with you," Flack said. "Not just because I want to keep you and the babies safe. But because I want to be there for you. You know, for support."
She smiled and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. "I find it so sexy when you go all Kevin Costner in The Bodyguard on me."
He grinned and laid his hand on her hip. "You got a lot of little kinks there, Mrs Flack. Lots of strange things that turn you on."
"Nah," she said and moved closer to him, her hand trailing over his hair and down to the back of his neck. "It's you that turns me on the most."
"Handcuffs or no handcuffs?" he asked with a chuckle.
"Just you," she replied, running her hand down his shoulder and along his arm. "It's always been just you."
He smiled and kissed her. Long and soft. His mouth yielding to the feel of her tongue pushing against his teeth. Opening to her aggressive, demanding lips. Their tongues sliding against each other and their hands roaming each other's bodies. "Okay.." he said breathlessly as he reluctantly pulled away. "Let's stop this while we still can."
She pouted dramatically.
"Blame your doctor, Samantha. He's the one that put the no sex rule in place."
"Blame them!" she cried, pointing to her stomach. "They're the ones that have forced us to abstain!"
He laid a hand on her stomach and stared down at it. Wonderment in his eyes. "Still hard to believe there's three of them in there.
"Well trust me, there is," she laughed. "I'm the size of a house. I look eight months already."
"I think you look beautiful," he said in a soft, loving voice, looking deep into her eyes.
She smiled and kissed him. "It's going to be hard," she said. "Being in the hospital for so long."
"It's for the best," Flack told her. "For you and the babies. I'm still not thrilled about not being allowed in the room when they're born."
"Sheldon tried his best to pull some strings," she said. "But you'll be right outside and you'll get to see them before anyone. Even before me. I'll probably be out for a while. You'll be there when I wake up, right?"
"Where else would I be, Sammie? What kind of question is that? I'm going to be the last person you see before they knock you out and the first person you see when you wake up. Okay?"
She nodded. "Donnie…if anything happens to me…"
"Don't talk like that, Samantha," he scolded her. "I don't want to hear this."
"Please. Just listen. If anything happens to me in that OR, if anything goes wrong and I don't make it…"
He closed his eyes tightly. "Sammie…please…"
"I need to say this," she told him. "Open your eyes and look at me."
Sighing heavily he opened his eyes.
"If something happens to me, Donnie, I want you to know that I love you and Kieran and the babies so much. That you were my entire world. That you came into my life when I needed someone the most and you accepted me and all my baggage and you never judge me."
Tears threatened in his eyes. "Sam…don't do this…."
"These are things I need to say to you," she told him. "I'd rather do it now then never find the time to do it. Alright?"
He nodded.
"You were the only person that never thought less of me because of mistakes I made and all the bad choices hanging over my head. You just dealt with them and with me. And no one has ever done that before."
"I love you, Samantha. I loved you the moment I saw you. Why wouldn't I accept you?"
"You came to me at a time when I didn't think I'd ever fall in love with someone again. And you taught me that I was worthy of having someone love me. That I deserved to be loved. And that I was capable of loving someone more than anything else in the entire world. And then you gave me Kieran and I…" tears dripped down her face. "I never thought I could love someone as much as I love him. He's my baby. And these are my babies and I…just thank you. Thank you for him and for them. And for you. For loving me and giving me everything I've ever wanted."
He fought back tears as he kissed her softly. He cleared his throat noisily. "There's so much more I want to give you, babe."
"I don't need anything other then you and all of our babies. That's all I need."
He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her tightly against him. "I love you so much," he whispered into her hair. "You're my entire existence, Sammie. I don't care how weak or pathetic that sounds. It's true. Because without you, I never would have the life I have now. As a husband or a father. I wouldn't have K and there'd be no triplets. And my kids…" he closed his eyes. "…you know how I feel about my kids."
She nodded and tucked her head under his chin. "We're a bunch of emotional saps, lately," she sniffled.
"You're hormonal," he said. "I don't know what my problem is."
"Maybe you're just a sappy bastard," she giggled.
"Maybe," he said with a grin. "You seem to bring it all out of me."
"Personally," she said and kissed his throat. "I find it incredibly sexy when a man isn't afraid to show emotion."
"Yeah? Well get me a box of Kleenex and I'll bawl all you what."
She laughed. "I love you just the way you are, Donnie. I wouldn't change a thing about you."
"No?"
"No…well…"
"Well?" he laughed. "So there is something you'd change about me?"
"Maybe a couple of things," she admitted.
"A couple?" he laughed even harder and released her from his embrace and rolled over onto his back. "You wound me, babe," he said, clutching his chest.
"Don't you want to know what those couple of things are?" she asked, laying an arm across him and her chin on his chest.
"I don't know. Do I?"
"They're nothing major," she assured him.
"I hope not," he said. "So fill me in. What would you change?"
"I would wave my magic want and stop you from leaving the toilet seat up all the time. And I'd get you to remember to pick your socks and underwear up off the floor and remember to take the empty bag of milk out of the container and put a new one in. And I'd…"
"You said a couple of things! You're giving me a novel here!"
"And I'd get rid of your potty mouth."
"My potty mouth?" he laughed at that. "I'll have you know little Brooklyn that you have a worse trucker mouth then I do."
"I most certainly do not," she snorted.
"You most certainly do too. I bet you ninety percent of that money in that swear jar is from you."
"Ninety percent? You're mental. Maybe fifty percent."
"Now you're mental. Come on. It's closer to maybe seventy-five. You, my dear, have a filthy mouth."
She grinned devilishly. "To go with my even filthier mind," she said.
"Which you can't do with anything with," he sighed dramatically. "Now that's a goddamn Greek tragedy."
"Use your hand," she said.
He snorted. "Use your hand. The doctor just said no intercourse. He didn't say no everything else."
"I never knew you were such a fan of a good old fashioned hand job," she giggled.
He just smiled.
"You're so easy to please," she said, and pressing her lips to his throat, ran her hand over his shoulder and down his chest to his stomach. Pushing up his t-shirt, her fingers snapped open the button on his jeans and slid the zipper down. A satisfied smile on her face as his body tense when she drifted her hand across the front of his boxers. "You like that, Don?" she whispered against the sensitive spot just below his ear.
He nodded.
"I'm glad," she said and licked her way around the outer edge of his ear. "But there's a change in plans."
"What do you mean? You get me all worked up and bail on me?"
"I am not bailing on you," she said. "I am just taking a different route."
"Which is?" he asked.
She winked at him and using his shoulder as leverage, pushing herself into a sitting position. "I know something else that you'll like even more," she said, grabbing both his boxers and jeans and yanking them over his hips and down his legs.
"Yeah? And what's that?" he asked, watching as she moved down the bed even more.
"How about I show you?" she responded, trailing the tip of her tongue up his thigh, bypassing his erection and licking his navel. Wetting it and then blowing on it.
He bit back a moan as his back arched off the bed.
"Very, very easy to please," she said, and kissed her way around his navel before moving lower. "I know how to take care of you, Don," she breathed, before closing her hand around his shaft and licking the tip of his cock.
"You always have," he croaked out, twisting his fingers in her hair before relaxing under the feel of her hands and the sensation of her lips and her tongue.
Handing himself over to her.
And not wanting even the smallest piece of himself back.
"Kieran, you have to eat your breakfast," Sam said calmly the next morning , a hand on her aching back as she bent down to retrieve the sippy cup of apple juice and the piece of toast from the floor for what seemed like the hundredth time in half an hour.
"No!" he bellowed, swiping at her hands as she tried to lay the items down on the high chair tray.
"Yes," she insisted, grabbing him the wrists with one hand and holding his arms above his head as she sat the cup and toast down in front of him. "Eat it," she demanded, letting his hands go and backing away from him.
"NO!!!!" he screamed and knocked the cup back onto the floor and tossed the toast across the room.
"Kieran! Bad!" she scolded. "You're a bad boy!"
"Mommy bad!" he informed her.
"I swear to God child," she mumbled as she snatched the cup up and grabbed the toast. The latter she tossed in the garbage. The cup she slammed down on the counter. "If you don't knock this crap off I'm going ship you off somewhere else to live. Like with grandma and grandpa."
"Papa!" Keiran exclaimed. Obviously liking the idea.
San snorted and set to making her son something else to eat. Settling for a bowl of Shreddies with sliced banana in it and half of a banana muffin. And instead of letting him feed himself and giving him the opportunity to dump the bowl over his head and chuck the muffin all over the kitchen, she pulled up a chair and sat down in front of him.
"You are going to eat, Mister Flack," she informed the toddler.
Kieran clamped his mouth shut and shook his head.
"Yes, you are," Sam said, chopping a slice of banana in half with the spoon and scooping up some cereal and milk. "Open up."
He shook his head adamantly.
"Don't be like this Kieran. You always eat. You're always hungry. Now open your mouth."
"No!" he exclaimed.
"Yes!" she argued.
"No!" he insisted.
"Kieran, eat your breakfast."
"NO!!!!!" he screamed.
Sam lunged forward and grabbed Kieran's chin, holding his jaw open and depositing the spoon in his mouth. And then clamped his jaw closed. "Chew," she demanded.
He shook his head and opened his mouth and let all his food tumble from his mouth and down his chest.
"Kieran!" she yelled. "BAD!!!!"
"MOMMY BAD!" he retaliated and leaned forward and attempted to snatch the bowl from her hands.
"Stop it!" she ordered, finding herself in a fierce tug of war with a screaming, spawn of Satan.
"WHAT IN THE HELL IS GOING ON IN HERE!" Flack bellowed as he appeared in the doorway. Bleary eyed in his t-shirt and pyjama bottoms and bare feet.
"Do something with your son!" Sam demanded and jumped up, tears coursing down her face as she shoved the bowl in his hands. "I can't take him when he's like this!"
"What's going on K?" he asked, sitting down in the abandoned chair. "You being a bad boy?"
The toddler shook his head.
"Don't lie to daddy. Lying is bad. You've got mommy all upset. She's crying. You don't want mommy to be sad, do you?"
"No sad mommy," Kieran said, watching his mother pace the kitchen.
"He won't eat his breakfast?" Flack asked his wife.
"He's being a shit," Sam declared.
"That's not what I asked you, babe. Calm down. What's wrong? Why are you so upset?"
"I can't deal with him when he gets like…when he gets like…when he gets like you!"
"I'll take care of him," Flack said. "Is there a cloth or something I can clean him up with?"
The damp dish rag collided with the side of his head.
"Sorry," Sam said sheepishly, wiping her eyes on the sleeve of her pyjamas. "I've got bad aim."
"Remind me never to be within a block radius either direction when you're shooting at someone," he snorted. "Think you could be nice to me and make me a coffee?"
"Wasn't I nice enough to you last night?" she asked, snatching the kettle from the stove and carrying it to the sink where she filled it with cold water.
"You were amazing to me last night," he told her. "Didn't I thank you more then once in the privacy of our bedroom?"
She blushed and plugged the kettle in.
"Be a good boy, K," Flack said to his son, scooping up some banana and Shreddies and offering it to the toddler. "Eat for daddy."
"Yeah," Sam grumbled. "Eat for the boss."
"O'tay," Kieran chirped and happily accepted his breakfast.
Sam stared at her son in disbelief and then slowly shook her head. "That's fine," she said, scooping instant coffee into a mug. "I only carried you for nearly nine whole months. You want to like daddy better, that's fine. Traitor."
"Say get a grip, mommy," Flack said to his son. "I still love you more than anyone else in the entire world."
She snorted and poured boiling water into the mug and stirred the mixture noisily. Carrying the mug to the table, she sat it down and then stood behind her husband's chair. Placing her hands on his shoulder, she kissed his rough, unshaven cheek softly. "Good morning, baby," she said.
"Good morning. You calmed down now?"
She nodded. "I'm so hormonal, Donnie. I don't know how much more I can take before I go insane."
"Half way there, Sammie. You're halfway there."
"I know," she sighed. Then grinned as she placed a kiss to the side of his neck. "I gave you one hell of a hickey last night."
"That is not a hickey, babe. That's a goddamn bite mark. Do you not see the impressions from your teeth?"
"I thought you liked a little pain and suffering," she said with a grin and kissed the top of his head. "Do you want something to eat?"
"I'll make something in a while. My stomach's all weird this morning."
"Weird as in sore or weird as in sick?"
"Weird as in it feels like someone is twisting my insides. Hurts like a bastard."
She frowned and rubbed his shoulders. "Where is this pain?" she asked, fearing the answer. Because in her heart she just knew what was going to come out of his mouth next.
"Same place my stomach was blown open," he told her.
She sighed and closed her eyes briefly. "How long have you had this pain?" she asked.
He sighed. "Off and on for a few months now."
"A few months?!" she shrieked. "What in the hell, Donnie?!"
"I didn't want you getting worried. It was a passing thing. The pain would suddenly come and then go just as fast. Started out being a couple times a day, then moved up to a few times. Lately it's been almost constant."
"You're going to call the doctor, right?" tears threatened in her eyes. This time out of sheer concern and fright then hormones.
He didn't respond.
"Don't do this to me, Donnie," she sniffled and ran her fingers through the hair at the back of his head before kissing his cheek a final time and walking over to the kitchen table. A hand on the small of her back, she lowered herself into one of the chairs. "Don't shrug it off like it's nothing."
"I'm not, babe. I know it's something. I just didn't want to worry you with it. What with the trippies and worrying about you being high risk and all that."
"Don, you're my husband. I love you. I worry about you. You should have told me."
"I know," he said with a sigh. "And I'll call the doctor when I'm finished here."
She put her head in his hands and tried to compose herself. "What do you think it could be?" she asked.
He shrugged. "I have no clue, Sammie."
"It can't be related to the bombing could it? I mean, it's been four years now. There's no way they could have missed something inside of you could they? Shrapnel or something?"
"I doubt it."
"And it can't be internal bleeding because you wouldn't have lived four years with that."
"I don't know what it could be, Sammie," he told her. "And I won't know until I see the doctor. So please, hon. Try not to get stressed and worried. Okay?"
She snorted.
"Let's focus on you and Huey, Duey and Louie. Did you all sleep good last night?"
She nodded. "Those multiple orgasms nearly put me in a coma," she said.
He grinned. "Glad to have been of some service," he chided, glancing over at her and winking. "Seriously though. You slept good?"
"Probably the best sleep I've had in a long time," she told him. "And now you drop this on me."
"It's probably nothing, Sammie," he said, hoping he sounded more convincing to her ears then he did to his own. "Maybe I pulled a muscle or something," he said. "If I did that it probably hasn't healed properly."
"Please call the doctor when you're done with Kieran."
"Sam, I just said I was going to call him, didn't I? Please, baby. Stop worrying. I'm fine."
She frowned and glared at the back of his head and turned her attention to the Macy's catalogue -a Christmas one, wrinkled and tattered from a lot of views- sitting off to the side. She grabbed it and flipped through it absentmindedly, trying to come up with the perfect words to use to approach a subject that had been plaguing her since her talk with Mac the day before.
"Donnie?" she asked after several minutes.
"Yeah? What's up, baby?"
"I've been thinking…"
"About?"
"I think I'm ready to meet Sara."
He didn't respond. His eyes riveted on the bowl of cereal in his hands.
"Donnie?" she asked meekly.
"I heard you," he said.
"Well aren't you going to say anything?"
"What do you want me to say?" he inquired.
"I don't know. Something. Anything."
He cleared his throat noisily. "What made you decide that? How long have you been thinking about it?"
"A little while," she said. "I guess being pregnant again and adding to our family has made me think about her a lot more. And how I'm a grown woman with an amazing husband and a beautiful son and more babies on the way and how I'm mature enough now to face the mistakes I've made. And make amends if that makes any sense."
"You did the right thing, Samantha. By giving her up. You were fifteen years old. There's no way you could have taken care of a baby. And from what Lake has said, she's had a great life. Parents that love her, some step brothers and sisters. They're middle income, have a decent house in a nice neighbourhood in Staten Island. Ask me, you giving her up worked in her favour. It's not like she went into foster care or ended up with parents like yours."
"Thank God for that," Sam snorted. "But I can't help but think that we're technically her family too."
"No,Sam," he said. "We're not. She stopped being part of you when you gave her up."
"I gave birth to her," Sam reminded him defensively.
"And you chose to give her a better life," he told her. "And the second you chose that was when you stepped out of her life."
Sam sighed. "She wants to meet me, Donnie. She's wanted to meet me for a while."
"And you said you didn't want to meet her. So what's changed?"
"I just told you. I'm more mature now. I can cope with seeing her and getting to know her."
"And what does getting to know her involve Sammie? Meeting her over a cup of coffee a few times? Talking about her life? Or does it include inviting her here for dinner and welcoming her with open arms into our family? Because K and I are your family. The babies you're having are your family."
"I know. But I think it would be good for both of us."
"Both of us as in you and her? Or both of us as in me and you?"
"I just think that we could be part of her family and he could be part of ours," Sam reasoned.
"We have a family, Samantha. Do we really need to add on to it?"
She sighed and flipped the catalogue closed and tossed it aside. "You told me you accepted me having a child before I met you. A long time before I met you."
"And I do. But I'm not too sure I'm okay with just welcoming her into my family."
"Well can you give me some kind of reason, hon?" Sam asked.
"I'm thirty-two, Samantha."
"And…"
"Sara is nineteen. Which means I was barely thirteen when she was born. That's kind of…I don't know…weird. Being a step father to someone that age."
"Well, technically babe, you are her stepfather. And Kieran and these babies are her step siblings. They're actually her half siblings because they share one parent. But that's besides the point. You don't think you could welcome her?"
"It's not that, babe. I'm not a total asshole. I wouldn't treat her like shit or anything."
"Okay. So what is it…"
Flack sighed heavily and spooned the last of the cereal into Kieran's mouth before standing up. Carrying the bowl to the sink, he turned the water on to rinse the container and the spoon before setting them in the sink. He turned to face her, leaning back against the counter, hands on the ledge.
"I'm worried about what will happen to us when you meet her," he told her.
"What do you mean what will happen to us?"
"I mean what's going to happen when you decided to spend all your time with her and forget about us. As in me and Kieran and the triplets."
She snorted. "That's ridiculous."
"Don't just shove aside my feelings and my concerns, Samantha."
"I'm not, Donnie. I respect your feelings and your concerns. I just think they're unfounded. You're my husband. My love. Kieran and these babies…" she ran her hands over her stomach. "They're my children. She's not going to take anyone's place."
He sighed and shook his head and stared down at his feet.
Sam pushed her chair away from the table and stood up slowly. Crossing the kitchen, she stood in front of him and laid her hands on his sides. "Baby, please look at me," she said.
He raised his head and looked into her golden eyes.
"Donnie, you are my life. You and my children. No one is ever going to come before you. I love you and I respect your feelings and your concerns. But I need you to respect mine, too. And I really think it would be beneficial, to all of us, if we at least met her. Even if it is just once. Can you give me that? Just a single opportunity and then trust me enough to take things from there."
He nodded. "Honestly Sammie, I'm scared. About meeting her."
"Why?"
"She's a stranger to me. A nineteen year old stranger. I know guys my age that date girls that young. It's just…weird thinking about being a father to someone that age. I mean, we could be brother and sister never mind father and daughter."
"I know it's hard for you, babe. To accept her."
"It's not that it's hard," he said. "It's just…it's complicated and awkward. That's all."
"You don't have to meet her. You could just let me meet her…"
"She's a part of you, Sammie. I want to meet her. I just worry about how I'll come across to her."
"Just be warm and welcoming," she told him. "Just be accepting. That's all I ask."
"I can do that," he said in a quiet voice.
She smiled up at him. "Thank you."
He leaned down to press a soft kiss to her lips before drawing her into his arms. Burying his face in her hair, he held on to her tightly.
And prayed to God that she knew exactly what she was doing.
For the sake of their family.
Thanks to everyone that is reading and reviewing! I appreciate each and every one of you and thank you all for your support and kind words! So please, please review folks! Cheers, BEG75
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