DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CSI:NY OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS. I DO HOWEVER OWN SAMANTHA FLACK AND BABY KIERAN
SPECIAL WELCOME TO: LEGOLASSS
APOLOGIES AHEAD OF TIME IF THIS ISN'T THE GREATEST CHAPTER EVER. I'VE BEEN DEALING WITH A CROUPY BABY WITH A CASE OF STREP THROAT, AND A PARTNER THAT JUST RETURNED FROM DC TODAY. THANKS TO ALL OF YOU FOR YOUR KIND WORDS AND SUPPORT!
It's MY life
"I've spent so much time believing
That in this life you try to give all you can take
When all along I've been needing was to find one good reason
To give myself
really give myself away
Every smile that lights my face
Every teardrop every trace
Every secret in place
belongs to you
Anything that's good in me
all I ever want to be
Every drop of every dream
belongs to you
Oh the me that I remember always thought you had to keep it all inside
Get in trouble for being tender
so you never say surrender
But it took you to finally prove me wrong
I'm letting go
I'm letting go now
Of everything I've ever held unto
Every place I've ever been
Every chance I'll get again
Every secret every sin belongs to you
Anything that's good in me all I ever want to be
Every drop of every dream belongs to you
It all belongs to you."
-Belongs to You, Emerson Drive
Flack could hear the excited shrieking and raucous giggling the moment he stepped off of the elevator and onto the seventh floor. Despite the loud talking and excessive volume of televisions, radios and conversations going on in various apartments on the floor, Kieran could be heard above it all. Laughing and 'singing' along to the theme song of whatever program was playing on the t.v. while banging and crashing various toys and carrying on a conversation with his mother. It was pretty much one sided on Sam's part. Nearly having to yell over the noise as she attempted to restore calm. Using such threats as the neighbours talking about what a bad, noisy baby he was, and that the superintendent was going to get mad and come upstairs and kick them out and they'd have to live on the street. Words that were completely lost on the nearly sixteen month old. Kieran neither understood, or took the threats seriously and continued on his merry way. Causing utter hell in the process.
To Flack, it was just the average noise of his daily life. What awaited him each night when he came home from a long and trying shift. His nerves on edge from dealing with the scum of the earth and getting little to no respect for doing it, all he had to do was stand at his front door and listening to the activity inside to feel rejuvenated. To put the toils and troubles of the day behind him. To turn what had been a permanent scowl into a broad smile. His adorable, precious son just enjoying life to the fullest, filling the home with laughter and love. And driving his mother insane in the process. And as he paused at the door to fish his keys from pocket of the suit jacket draped over his forearm, he could hear his wife moving around the kitchen as she prepared dinner, and their son running around the living room.
"MOMMEEE!" Kieran bellowed. "BOB ON! BOB ON!"
"Bob the Builder's on?" she asked.
"YEAH!" came the excited response. "BOB ON!"
"Well maybe you should be quiet so you can hear it," Sam suggested.
"Uh-uh," Kieran responded. "No 'iet, no 'iet! NO 'IET!"
"Kieran!" she shushed him noisily. "Knock it off. You're giving me a damn head ache."
"DAMN!" he shrieked and giggled. "DAMN MOMMY!"
Sam gave an exasperated sigh.
Flack grinned and slipped the key into the lock.
"Daddy's home, Kieran!" Sam called in a happy voice to the toddler crashing and banging in the other room. "Daddy's home."
"DADDEEE!" Kieran squealed. There was a loud clatter as he dropped whatever toy he had in his hand, and the sound of feet scampering across the hard wood. "DADDY'S OME! DADDY'S OME!"
Flack slowly and carefully let himself into the apartment. It was Kieran's common practice -if he was still awake when his dad arrived home- to rush to the door in greeting. And that evening was no different. No sooner did Flack get the door closed behind him, his toddler son came barrelling out of the living room and launched himself at his father's legs.
"DADDEEE!" Kieran cried, his arms spread wide.
"Hey, buddy," Flack greeted, scooping his son up effortlessly with one arm and showering the little boy with kisses on his cheeks and head. "You have a good day?" he asked. "You been a good boy for mommy?"
"Me good!" Kieran exclaimed, planting a noisy, wet kiss on his father's lips. "'ook, daddy!" he pointed to his face. Where there were Blue's Clues stickers plastered across his forehead and a black nose and whiskers drawn on his tender skin with eyeliner. A sticker graced the top of each hand.
"Who did all of that to you?" Flack asked. "And why?"
"Mommy!" Kieran squealed on his partner in crime. "'at, daddy! 'at!" he informed his father, then gave a valiant effort at meowing. "Ippers!" he giggled. "Ippers!"
"Okay…I get it. You're pretending to be a cat, like Slippers."
Kieran nodded and beamed broadly.
"Can you do me a favour?" Flack asked, as he placed his son on the floor and held out the carefully and beautifully wrapped bouquet flowers. "Can you give these to mommy while I take off my shoes and stuff?"
"Mommy?" Kieran asked, and taking the item offered to him, wrapped both arms lightly around it.
"Go and give those to mommy. Then come back here and I'll give you a surprise."
"Sa-pize?" Kieran's blue eyes sparkled excitedly. "Me Sa-pize?"
"Yep. A surprise just for you, But first you go and give those to mommy."
"O'tay," the little boy chirped and turned and toddled into the kitchen, while his father lingered behind to toe off his shoes and hung up his jacket. "Mommy!" Kieran called. "Mommy 'ook!"
"What do you have there, baby boy?" Sam asked, as she stepped away from the pot of carrots, baby corn and peas boiling on the stove. "Are those for me?"
"Daddy!" Kieran told her.
"They're from daddy? Can I see them?" she inquired, prying the flowers from her son's grasp.
The little boy nodded. "Fowers," he announced.
"Pretty flowers," Sam agreed and tore open the mauve and silver stripped paper to reveal a gorgeous assortment of pink and white champagne roses. A single purple one nestled in the middle. She smiled brightly at her husband as he journeyed into the kitchen, setting a plastic bag down on the counter before loosening his tie and unbuttoning the cuffs of his dress shirt before rolling the sleeves up to his elbows. "Baby, they're beautiful," she gushed. "Thank you. I love them."
He returned the smile and kissed her softly. Pressing his lips to her temple, he laid a gentle hand on her ever growing baby bump and pulled back to look at her. Smirking at the sight of the nose and whiskers that adorned her face as well. "You too?" he asked. "What did I miss? How come you two are walking around dressed as cats?"
"We were watching The Aristocats," Sam told him. "I thought it would be cute to get into character. And what are the flowers for? Just because?"
"It's a special occasion today, he responded, rubbing her stomach.
She frowned as she looked down at the flowers cradled along her forearm. "It is?"
"You mean you honestly don't remember what today is?" he feigned hurt.
"Well Valentine's Day is long past and my birthday was four days ago. It was two years since we met last month so it's not that, and our anniversary is in December…"
"It's been two years," Flack informed her. "You seriously don't remember?"
"Maybe the babies are sucking my brains out," Sam sighed. "But nothing is coming to mind."
"Two years since he was conceived," Flack nodded down at Kieran and ran a hand over his son's hair. "I can't believe you didn't remember?"
"I can't believe you do," she said with a small laugh. "Do you have all of this stuff written down somewhere?"
He tapped a finger tip to his temple. "I commit all the really important stuff to memory," he told her.
"Which explains why I can ask you to take the garbage down to the chute and ten minutes later you're still sitting on the couch," she teased.
"No. That's just because I have selective hearing. Anything to do with house work just goes in one ear and out the other. You like the flowers though? I got that one purple one put in there to symbolize K. Pretty damn romantic if I do say so myself. Definitely one of my finer moments."
"I think they're beautiful," she said, and accepted a long, soft kiss. "How was the rest of your day?" she asked, laying the flowers down on the counter before moving to the fridge and grabbing the simple glass vase that sat empty on top of it.
Flack shrugged. "You know how it is, same crap, different day," he grabbed the plastic bag and opened it up. "Look what I got for you, Kieran," he said, as his little son stood with his arms circling his dad's thigh, looking up with huge blue eyes. "Look what daddy bought for you today."
"Mine?" Kieran asked, letting go of his dad's leg and reaching up as Flack pulled a Little Tikes police car from the bag. Already out of the packaging, the batteries already in enabling the sirens to blare and the lights to flash.
"Yours," his dad confirmed. "Another toy to drive your mommy insane with."
"Oh joy, oh bliss," Sam sighed. "What did daddy buy you, Kieran? Is he spoiling you as usual? What did you get?"
"Dis!" Kieran held the toy up for her to see. "Caw."
"Police car," Sam told him, pressing down on the lights mounted on top of the roof to turn the sound effects on. "What does daddy do for his job, K?"
"Daddy peas-man," the toddler answered quickly and confidently, staring down with wide, interested eyes at the toy in his hand.
"What does mommy do?" Flack asked.
Kieran shrugged. "Mommy mommy," he replied.
"Mommy's a science nerd," his father told him, receiving a glare and slap on the shoulder from his wife as he went to the fridge and opened it and took out a can of root beer. "She plays with test tubes and beakers and petri dishes all day."
Sam snorted and rolled her eyes. Laying a hand on the back of Kieran's head, she gently moved him along so she could pull open the oven door to check on the tuna steaks she had placed in the oven twenty minutes before.
"So what else did you guys do today?" Flack asked. "Other than making yourselves look like cats and watching movies?"
"We were lazy today," Sam replied. "We stayed in our pyjamas until afternoon and had a nice, long nap together."
"So while I'm out chasing bad guys, you two are living the good life," Flack concluded. "Something not quite right about that. I think I should take a couple of days off and sleep until noon hour and stay in my pyjamas all day."
"Well get pregnant with triplets and you can do just that," Sam teased him. "I think I've earned my right to hang out and do nothing. I've only put on nearly seventy pounds and have massively swollen ankles and the worst heart burn and nausea known to man. All because of you and your demon sperm."
"Hey, me and my demon sperm get the job done, don't we? Four kids in less then two years? We're goddamn miracle workers if I don't say so myself. Think if you'd hooked up with Messer or Hawkes that they'd be able to knock you up three times at once? I think not. That was all me, baby. All me."
"At least we didn't have to take fertility drugs or anything," Sam said, rubbing the small of her back. "My luck, I would have ended up pregnant with octuplets like that crazy woman last year who already had six kids under the age of seven."
"Now that's just wrong," Flack declared. "Fourteen kids. That's abnormal. No one in their right mind has that many kids. I'm surprised she wasn't committed after that. I thought for sure she wanted to have that many so she could sell them and make huge money. 'Cause no one wants that many kids for themselves."
"Not someone remotely normal," Sam and grimaced. "God…someone is sitting right on my bladder and someone else keeps nailing me in the ribs with their big feet. What the third one is up to, I have no idea."
"Chilling out and taking it easy," Flack concluded, looking down at Kieran sitting at his feet, running his new car along the floor. "The boy is probably just hanging out. Letting the girls cause all the issues. Like girls do."
"We don't know for sure that the ultrasound technician was right," Sam told him, leaning back against the sink and stroking her stomach in slow, smooth circles.
"Hey, I saw a penis, okay? There was no denying that. And I only saw the one and nothing on the other two babies. I am telling you, it's two girls and one boy. Don't underestimate my baby guessing ability. I was right about K from the second you told me you were pregnant. I said a boy and low and behold."
"Well as long as it's not three boys," she sighed. "'Cause that I could not deal with."
"I don't know how I'm going to deal with having two girls," Flack said, sipping his pop. "I know nothing about girls. What am I suppose to do with girls?"
"Same thing you do with boys. Change them, feed the, burp them…."
"I mean when they're older. When guys start getting interested in them and they want to wear makeup and need training bras and start their periods. When all they want to do is talk on the phone with boys and go out on dates and wear their school kilts so short they barely cover their ass. I mean, I can't cope with that stuff. I'm a guy."
"Well first off, they're not even born yet so you getting stressed about things that are about thirteen, fourteen years away is just silly," his wife told him. "Second, by the time all that happens, you'll have raised them for over a decade and you'll know what to do with them. It'll just be old hat by then."
"I am telling you right now, babe, I am setting the ground rules early on. First, no wearing make up until at least sixteen…."
Sam arched an eyebrow.
"Second, no phones in their rooms. And most definitely no cell phones or not private lines of their own. Three, kilts stay below the knee at all times. And four, as far as guys are concerned? No dating until they're in college. Better yet, until they're out of college."
Sam laughed. "Well I hate to burst your bubble, but you are way out of touch with teenage girls."
"I don't care what other teenage girls are doing. That's what my girls are going to be doing."
"Okay…well I agree on the no separate phone line in their rooms. But I like the idea of cell phones to keep an eye on them."
"Keep an eye on them?" Flack laughed. "And whose going to be shelling out the massive phone bill when all they do is text message their friends?"
"And the kilt thing?" Sam continued. "We can make sure they're where they should be when they leave the house, but trust me, Donnie. The second they're around the corner, they're rolling the damn things up. I went to a Catholic high school. I know all the tricks."
"So they go to boarding school then," he said. "That way they don't turn into evil, dirty little Catholic school girls like their mother."
Sam frowned.
He grinned and pressed a kiss to her temple. "And the dating thing?" he asked.
"We can't stop them from being interested in boys," Sam replied. "And we can't stop boys from being interested in them. I say no dating until they're at least sixteen."
"I was thinking more along the lines of twenty-six," Flack declared.
His wife arched both eyebrows and stared pointedly at him.
"Twenty-five?"
She shook her head.
"Look, I'll go as young as nineteen and that's it. No way are my baby girls going out with guys before that."
"You are so delusional, Donnie," she sighed heavily, and pushed herself away from the counter. "Could you do me a favour? While you're fantasizing about all the nights you'll have on our front porch, a shot gun in your lap waiting for your daughters to come home from dates?"
"If it has anything to do with dishes or scrubbing the toilet…"
"I know. I know. House work causes your allergies to act up."
"Smart ass," he grumbled.
"Would you take Kieran out in the living room and play with him? So I can finish dinner?"
"I suppose…" Flack said and sighed exasperatedly. "You know how much I just hate spending time with my son."
"Okay Mr Sarcasm," she smirked. "Just take your ass on out of my kitchen, okay?"
He held a hand up in surrender. "Are we eating those damn frozen veggies and tuna things again?"
"What do you mean again? We haven't had them since last week."
"Last week is still fresh in my memory. And when you say steak babe, I'm thinking meat. Red meat. Medium rare. With like fried onions and mushrooms and a big ass baked potato."
"Well take your dreams of steak sides out into the living room," she suggested. "And pretending when you're eating supper that you're eating beef."
"I'm making the damn grocery list next time," he grumbled. "Come on, K," reaching down, he took his son under the arm and pulled him to his feet. "Let's leave mommy to her happy homemaker best."
"You are cruising for bruising, Donald," she warned her husband, as he and their son headed out into the living room.
"I am just having some fun with you. Just 'cause your hormones are all out of bloody whack and you can't…"
"And whose fault is that?" she asked.
"That's right. Everything that happens around here is my fault," he laughed. "I will be so glad when you're not pregnant anymore. So I can have my wife back."
"Just to let you know ahead of time, we're never having sex again unless you wear about half a dozen condoms!" she called.
"Yeah…right," he responded with a hearty chuckle. "And by the way?" he poked his head back into the kitchen. "Steak sides? Who do you think I am? Danny Messer?"
She smirked and shook her head. "You are so mean to that man," she sighed.
"Love him like a brother," Flack declared. "Even if I do want to kill him half the time."
"You couldn't live without him, Don. Admit it."
Flack nodded in agreement. "Life would definitely be dull," he said.
"DADDEEE!" Kieran called from the living room. "Otty! Otty, daddy!"
Flack frowned and looked at his wife. "We need a translator for this kid."
"OTTY!" Kieran shrieked. "DADDEEE! OTTY!"
"He's telling you he needs to go to the potty," Sam informed her husband. "He's only got pull ups on. So unless you want a mess to clean up on the hardwood floors…."
"He's miraculously potty trained?" excitement crept into Flack's voice and eyes. "Since when?"
"He's not trained per say. He's just starting to be able to tell us when he needs to sit on the potty. When he got up this morning, he was dry so I stripped off his diaper and sat him on the potty. He went pee. And you know how the potty plays music and the lights flash when he goes?"
Flack nodded.
"Well he got a huge kick out of that so I decided put him in the pull ups and take my chances. Only two accidents all day."
"That's my boy," Flack praised. "Acting like a big kid already."
"Well you'll he having a puddle to clean up if you don't get to him in time," his wife told him.
"I'm on it," he said and disappeared into the living room. "Okay, big guy," she heard him say to their son. "Show daddy what you can do."
"Go otty!" Kieran cried. "Pee-pee otty!"
Sam grinned and went back to preparing dinner. Listening to father and son carrying on a mostly one sided conversation about big kids and not needing diapers soon and being able to stand up and go pee before long. The end of the talk punctuated by the music on the Fisher Price potty.
"Me otty!" Kieran shrieked in sheer happiness.
"That's amazing little man," his father gushed. Pride evident in his voice. "You're a big boy now. You're not a baby anymore."
In the kitchen, Sam smiled to herself. It was a bitter sweet moment. Her first born, whom she'd fought so hard to bring safely into the world, was growing up before her very eyes. And inside of her, were three new lives that were depending on their parents to take care of them and love them.
She only hoped and prayed, that they were up to the challenge.
"So Danny and I are going to take a trip into Queens on the weekend," Flack commented, two hours following dinner, as he lay on his side in the middle of the living room floor in a pair of NYPD sweats and a ratty t-shirt. One eye on the ancient episode of ER playing on one of the satellite channels, and his other eye on Kieran sitting next to him. The toddler's hair was still damp from his bath and he was clad in a pair of NHL pyjamas as he played with a light up, musical shape sorter.
"You guys are going to go see the house?" Sam asked, as she relaxed on the couch in her own pyjamas. Stretched out with a copy of The National Enquirer resting on her stomach. She loved evenings like this. Quiet, unassuming nights shared with her family. The supper clean up long completed, no other house work to catch up on. Time to just relax and take it easy.
Flack nodded. "There's lots that's going to be need done before we can move anything in there. I need to put some extra insulation in the attic and I want to sand down the back deck and paint it and put sealant on it. And I'm pretty sure I'm going to have to get an electrician to come in and make sure all the wiring is safe and up to standards. And I want to get a better look at all the windows. Especially in the room we want to use for the babies."
"Have you ever thought of just hiring a contractor to take care of all of that stuff?" she asked.
Flack looked at her as if she was crazy. "You have any idea how much that would cost us? We're lucky Danny's got a cousin whose an electrician. If stuff needs to be done to the wiring, we'll get a massive discount. And Scagnetti's got a friend of the family that does plumbing and says if we need any work done, to let him know."
"I hope that this house doesn't have that much wrong with it," Sam sighed. "It looked fine when we went to look at it and put in our offer."
"We only saw what's on the outside of the walls, babe. Who knows what things are like behind the scenes. Don't worry about it. Whatever needs to be done, I'll take care of it. Okay?"
"All I ask is that you paint our bedroom. The other rooms are fine. But I can't sleep in a room with puke green walls."
"I promise you that when you come home from the hospital with them babies, the place will be like a palace. I'll have it looking like a million bucks."
Beside him, Kieran gave a frustrated yelp and threw himself face down on the floor and began to whine.
"What's going on, buddy?" Flack asked, sitting up and gathering Kieran and the shape sorter up and placing both between his legs. "What's pissing you off?"
"DIS!" Kieran cried, holding aloft a yellow plastic star.
"Well what are you trying to do with it?" his dad asked, scooping up the other shapes on the floor beside them.
"DIS!" his son exclaimed, and tried shoving the star into the shape of a circle.
"That's not going to work big guy," Flack said, his voice calm and quiet. "You can't put that one in there."
"DIS!" Kieran attempted to push the shape through the wrong hole once again.
"Here," Flack took the star and set it aside and gathered a circle, a square and a triangle into the palm of his hand. "Try these ones," he said, offering the toys to his son.
"Dis?" Kieran asked, sniffling noisily and blinking back tears as he plucked a square from his dad's hand. "Dis?"
"That's a square," Flack told him. "It goes here…" he said, laying his large, strong hand over his son's tiny one and directing Kieran towards the right opening on the toy. The shape sorter lit up and its lights flashed as the toddler deposited the block into it's proper hole.
"Dis?" Kieran asked, grabbing a hold of the circle and holding it up.
"That's a circle," his dad replied. "It goes in this one here," he pointed to the proper opening.
"Here?" the toddler asked, his hand lingering over the hole.
Flack nodded.
Kieran dropped the circle into it's spot and clapped noisily when the toy's music sounded and the lights flashed.
"What about this one?" Flack asked, holding out the triangle. "Where does this one go?"
His son took the object from his hand, studied it for a moment with his tiny head cocked to the side, then placed the triangle into the appropriate slot.
"Me!" he squealed happily, clapping his hands when he was rewarded with music and lights and his parents praising him.
"Let's try the ones on the other side," Flack suggested, flipping the shape sorter over to reveal three new slots. A heart, a cross, and a star. Then gathering up the matching blocks.
Sam smiled and settled against the pillow wedged between her back and the arm of the couch. The triplets had, by the grace God decided to give her a reprieve for the past hour and a half. Aside from the occasional twist and turn, they had put their elbows and feet to rest for the time being. She was growing irritable and more and more tired as the days went on. There were mornings that she could barely get out of bed without feeling winded, nor walk to the bathroom without her back aching and her ankles swelling to twice their size. She was definitely looking forward to the whole ordeal being over and done with. Although the thought of spending a month or so in the hospital was daunting, she knew it guaranteed her the proper rest and the proper medical care both she and the triplets would need.
For now, she pushed all thoughts of hospital stays and child birth and the time her babies would spend in the NICU afterwards aside. She stretched out her legs and sipped at a mug of decaf tea her husband had prepared for her and flipped through her magazine as she listened to the two most important men in her life co-existing peacefully in the middle of the living room floor. Her husband possessing the utmost patience for their toddler son as he taught Kieran -slowly and surely- what shapes belonged where. It was hard to believe that this man, who away from home was so assertive and aggressive and downright intimidating, could be so soft and gentle behind closed doors. She had seen, in one day alone, her husband manhandling an out of control perp, and twelve hours later, walk the floors of the apartment soothing a colicky baby. Bleary eyed and exhausted yet fully in control while she herself was a near hysterical mess.
She had lucked out the day she had met him. She couldn't have picked a better man to marry or have a family with. And she thanked God every day that her husband had picked her to spend the rest of his life with.
She looked up from her magazine as Kieran gave an ear piercing shriek, followed by a full out belly laugh. His face glowing with pure delight as his father tossed him in the air and caught him effortlessly over and over again. One of his all time favourite games.
"Who needs to go to the gym," Flack said, his rich laugh mingling with his son's much higher pitched giggle. "I can just lie here and to presses with him and I get an awesome work out. He's getting damn heavy."
"It's because all he does is eat," Sam declared.
"Definitely your father's boy," Flack told his son, as he settled a breathless Kieran on his stomach.
"And did you see the size of his feet?" Sam added. "Honestly, Donnie. His feet are massive. Look at those things."
"He just takes after me," Flack told her, as he picked up one of Kieran's bare feet and studied it. "He's got your funny looking toes though. The big toe that turns up and the others that curve into the one beside it."
"Are you trying to say that my feet are ugly?" Sam asked, her eyes skimming an article on the train wreck that was Britney Spears.
"No," he replied. "I am trying to say that they're funny looking. I love you no matter what. Funny looking toes and all."
She grinned and flipped her page. "That answer just saved you from a lifetime on the couch," she declared. "You know, I watched this really screwed up show earlier today. You remember that guy Joshua Jackson?"
"Pacey from Dawson's Creek? Played Charlie in the Mighty Ducks movies, too. What about him?"
"Well I think he was part of the FBI. But to be honest, it was so screwed up, I couldn't tell you exactly what this show was about. I don't know if it was about aliens or mutations or what the hell. But it was plain screwed up."
"What was it called?"
"I think it was called Fringe. Shows you how much I was paying attention. But seriously, it was messed up. And I used to love him when he played Pacey."
"This show wasn't on CBS was it?" Flack asked, as he tickled his son's toes as he played a game of This Little Piggy with the toddler. "Because they've been showing a lot of shit lately. And every time you watch something on CBS, you get those weird dreams."
"It was on Fox," Sam told him.
"Christ, even worse," Flack grumbled. "And this little piggy went wee, wee, wee, wee all the way home," he sing-songed to his son, tickling Kieran all the way from the top of his foot to the inside of his chubby thigh.
Kieran roared in laughter and tumbled sideways off of his father's stomach. Unharmed and unfazed, he breathlessly pulled himself up onto his feet, then threw himself stomach down on top of his father's chest.
"Please be careful you two," Sam said, looking up from her reading and over to where her husband and toddler son were rough housing in the middle of the living room floor. Kieran loved to wrestle and play fight. And his father was always willing and able to oblige. "The last time you two carried on like that, someone got kneed in the family jewels."
"No harm, no foul," Flack told her. "Didn't do any permanent damage. Not that I know of anyway. I guess we'll know when we're trying to have our next baby."
"Our next baby?" Sam laughed. "You're delusional. These three are our last."
"Please," he said. "We won't be able to stop at four and you know it."
"We're stopping at four whether you like it or not," Sam informed him, sipping her tea.
"Never," Flack declared, as he and Kieran collapsed onto their backs beside each other on the floor, their chests heaving with exertion. "I think he's going to be ready for bed soon," he told his wife. "I wore him out."
"Whatever helps him sleep through the night," Sam sighed. "I was thinking that maybe we should…."
Her sentence was cut off by a loud knock at their apartment door.
"You expecting someone?" Flack asked, as he rolled over onto his stomach and pushed himself up onto his feet.
"It's probably Danny or Lindsay needing to borrow something," she said in reply.
"They have keys and usually just let themselves in," Flack reminded her, as he gathered Kieran up and settled him alongside of his mother. "Be careful, K," he warned. "No kicking mommy in the tummy."
"Mommy baby," the toddler said, laying one hand on his mom's stomach before shoving the thumb of the other hand in his mouth.
Flack yawned noisily as he headed through the living room and into the small foyer. Flicking on the hall light before unlocking the dead bolt and sliding the chain across and opening the door. A frown covering his face at the sight of Chester Lake standing on his door step.
"Flack," the other man greeted with a polite nod.
"It's kind of late for a visit," Flack said. "Especially an unexpected one."
Lake checked his watch. "It's only quarter after eight."
"We've got a little kid. Quarter after eight is late for us."
"I was just hoping that I could talk to Sam for a few minutes. We haven't exactly been on the best of terms since our disagreement over Sara a couple of days ago. And there's some things that I want to talk to her about."
"You couldn't call her on the phone?" Flack asked. He admitted, and only to himself, that the thought of his wife at one time being intimate with the other man, and bearing his child at such a young age, made him incredibly uncomfortable. And that he had found it hard to work alongside of Lake ever since Sam had broke the news to him. "Or stop by the lab tomorrow?"
"I changed my mind about things," Lake replied. "I talked to Sara earlier and…well there's just some things I need to talk to Sam about."
Flack sighed heavily and reluctantly stepped aside and opened the door wide as he motioned for the other man to step inside.
"Hope I'm not keeping you guys up or anything," Lake said, as he toed off his shoes.
"I was just going to put K to bed and get some paper work done," Flack told him, locking the door back up and heading out into the living room.
"No rest for the weary," Lake commented.
"You've got a visitor, Sammie," Flack told his wife.
She looked up from stroking Kieran's hair. The toddler nearly asleep, cuddled in tight against her. She blinked at the sight of Chester Lake standing in her living room. "What are you doing here?" she asked.
"I need to talk to you," he replied. "About Sara."
She nodded slowly.
"I'm just going to put him to bed," Flack said, as he carefully picked his son's tiny body up into his arms.
Lake waited until the other man left the room before taking a seat at the end of the couch. Several minutes passed before he spoke. "How are you feeling?" he asked Sam, as she shifted her position, her feet brushing up against his thigh.
"Fat and uncomfortable," she replied, snapping her magazine shut and tossing it on the coffee table.
"Well you look good," Lake told her. "Not too much longer to go, I guess."
"Long enough," she sighed. "So?" she asked. "Why are you here? Why did you just decide to show up on my door step?"
"Like I said, it's about Sara. I've been doing a lot of thinking since we talked the other day."
Sam arched her eyebrows as she sipped her now lukewarm tea.
"I know that I was a little harsh and that I…"
Lake paused as Flack, carrying a lap top computer he'd snagged from the master bedroom, journeyed back into the living room.
"Don't let me interrupt," Flack said with a polite smile and took a seat in the reclining chair next to the couch. "You want to talk to my wife, do it in front of me. I live here, too."
"I just thought maybe talking about past personal stuff might make you uncomfortable," Lake commented.
"It was nineteen years ago right?" Flack asked with a shrug of indifference. "What Sammie did back then doesn't bother me. What bothers me is an ex boyfriend showing up at the apartment where she lives with her husband to talk about the past."
"Donnie, please," Sam begged. "Don't get upset."
"Whose getting upset?" he asked, powering up his lap top. "I'm just stating the facts."
Sam sighed heavily and shook her head. "Go ahead, Chester," she said.
"Like I was saying, I've been thinking a lot about what we talked about when we met for lunch the other day. And I realized that I may have been a little harsh."
Flack coughed noisily.
Lake glanced over at him.
"It's dry in here," Flack said. "Ignore me."
"I shouldn't have reacted like I did," Lake continued. "When you expressed interest in meeting our daughter…"
Flack looked over at the other man, not liking the way like stressed the words OUR DAUGHTER.
"…I never should have reacted like I did," Lake said regretfully. "You have ever right to be concerned about Sara and want to meet her. You made the decision you did….we made the decision we did based on what was best for her. We never would have been able to give her a proper home. We were babies ourselves and we never would have been able to take care of her the way she deserved. We did the right thing by giving her up. And we're lucky that she went to a great home. That she has parents that love her as much as they do."
"It was better for her to go to someone else who could properly provide for her," Sam said. "I don't regret the decision I made."
"And you shouldn't," Lake assured her. "And she understands why we gave her up. She has no hard feelings against either of us."
"You talked to her?" Sam asked.
He nodded. "After I sat back and thought about what went down between us, I called her up and told her that I'd talked to her birth mother. And that you wanted to meet her."
"And?" Sam inquired.
"And she thought that it was a great idea," Lake told her. "And she asked me if she could have a picture of you. And your name and phone number. So she can call you and the two of you can get together. I told her that you were married and had a little boy and triplets on the way. She's excited about maybe being part of their lives."
Flack cleared his throat noisily.
Both Sam and Lake looked over at him.
"What?" Flack asked innocently.
"So does that sound like an okay plan?" Lake asked Sam. "I mean if you don't feel comfortable handling things that way…"
"It's fine," Sam assured her. "You can give her one of my business cards. And I think there's some pictures around here somewhere. Donnie can find one for you."
Flack didn't move from his seat. Or look up from his typing.
"Donnie?" Sam asked.
"What, babe?" he inquired.
"Could you find a picture of me for Chester? A recent one?"
"Right now?" Flack asked incredulously.
Sam smiled sweetly and nodded.
He sighed heavily and sat his lap top down on the floor before climbing out of the chair reluctantly. Journeying over to the entertainment unit on the far wall, he pulled a family photo album from off on of the shelves and flipped through it before selecting a photo of Sam taken at Kieran's first birthday party. Snapping the album closed, he carried the photo over to the couch and dropped it in Lake's lap before returning to the recliner.
"Now do you two need me for anything else?" Flack asked, settling the lap top on his thighs once again.
Sam glared at him.
Lake cleared his throat noisily, embarrassed and uncomfortable with the thick tension that now hung in the room. "This is perfect," he said, picking up the photo. "I should get going. I'll get a hold of Sara tomorrow and give her everything."
"I'll walk you to the door," Sam offered.
"It's okay," Lake assured her as he stood up. "Stay off your feet. I can see myself out."
"Well someone needs to lock the door after you leave," she said, staring pointedly at her husband.
Flack sighed once again, placed the computer on the coffee table and stood up. "After you," he said to Lake, motioning for the other man to go ahead of him.
"Talk soon," Lake said to Sam, leaning down to lay a gentle hand on her stomach before leaving the room.
No words were spoken between the two men as they headed for the front door.
"Thanks for giving me just a little bit of your spare time," Lake said to Flack, as the latter unlocked the front door and yanked it open. "I'm sure it just burned your ass to be sociable."
Flack smiled politely. "Have a nice night, Lake," he said simply.
Lake snorted and shook his head and stepped out into the hallway. "You know," he turned back suddenly and stuck his foot in the door before Flack could close it. "Just because Samantha and I had a history, doesn't mean I'm trying to bust up your marriage. And if you had a strong marriage and you trusted your wife, you wouldn't be so self-conscious about any guy that so much as looks her way."
"Fuck you, Lake. This is my house. That's my wife. Whose pregnant with my kids. Who gave birth to my son. And you come here talking this kind of shit to me? Piss off and get the hell out of here."
"Maybe if you treated her a little bit better, you wouldn't have this paranoia about her taking off on you."
"And maybe if you had respect for me and her, you wouldn't be talking this kind of crap. So do me a favour, get the hell out of here before I show you a seriously lack of respect by kicking your ass."
"One day, Flack, one day she's going to wake up and realize she deserves better. She's going to wake up and realize she's better off without you."
"Yeah? And will this be the same day you realize how pathetic this whole unrequited love thing you got going on for her really is?"
Lake laughed dryly. "Think about what I said. You can't treat her like this forever and expect her to always stick around."
"Good night, Lake," Flack said, forcibly shutting the door. Fighting off the urge to step out into the hallway and lay a beating of a life time on the other man.
He locked the door up tight and turned off the lights before journeying back into the living room. Gathering up the lap top, he sat down beside his wife on the couch.
Sam stared long and hard at him.
"What?" Flack asked irritably.
"Nothing," she sighed and stood up. "I'm going to bed."
"You do that," he said. "And while you're at it, think long and hard about what you're getting yourself into."
She paused in the doorway. "What's that suppose to mean?"
"I hope you know what you're doing," he told her. "Getting mixed up with stuff from your past like this."
She snorted. "Make sure you lock up and turn off all the lights," she said, and turned her back on him and disappeared down the hall.
Flack sighed heavily and briefly closed his eyes.
Hoping to God that the past wasn't going to come back and haunt them
Or destroy them.
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