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

A/N: PLEASE VISIT MY PROFILE AND CAST A VOTE ON MY POLL! NOT SURE WHERE IT WILL LEAD ME, BUT WE'LL SEE….

Intentionally unannounced

"I got miles of trouble spreadin' far and wide
Bills on the table gettin' higher and higher
They just keep on comin',
there ain't no end in sight
I'm just holding on tight...
I've got someone who loves me more then words can say
And I'm thankful for that each and every day
And if I count all my blessings, I get a smile on my face
Still it's hard to find faith...
But if you can look in my eyes
And tell me we'll be alright
If you promise never to leave
You just might make me believe."
-Just Might (Make me believe), Sugarland

"Kieran Shaun Donald Flack!" Sam's voice reverberated throughout the entire apartment. "Get back here right now!"

"NO!" the defiant toddler screamed back in response. "NO MOMMY!"

Flack's eyes snapped open at the sounds of morning chaos erupting outside of the closed bedroom door. Stomach down, face smothered in his pillow, he listened to various objects being tossed and scattered around the living room and the pounding of big feet and the patter of little ones as mother and son stomped across the hardwood floors. A loud crash, followed by Kieran's shrieks of anger and frustration and his mother scolding him, prompted Flack to abandon sleep and raised his face from his pillow. Propping himself up on his elbows, he cast a glance over at the bedside clock.

Thirteen minutes after eight and the already the last day of April had arrived with a vengeance. Both inside the cramped apartment and out. Excessively bright, warm sunshine poured into the room as a stiff breeze tousled the curtains. Birds sang merrily, traffic roared by on the street below and pedestrians on the sidewalk laughed and chattered noisily. Normally, the sounds of happy and cheerful every day life were a welcome relief compared to the often dark and vicious nature so often associated with the city. But the noise, no matter how pleasant, was none to appetizing or welcome to someone who'd barely managed to clock four and a half hours of sleep.

He heard the scampering of tiny feet as they raced down the hallway towards the bedroom. Then a soft thud as Kieran either sat or laid down in front of the bedroom door.

"Don't you make me come and get you!" Sam yelled, the volume of her voice giving away the fact she was standing at the end of the hall. Just outside of the living room. "If I have to come and get you…"

"DADDEEE!" Kieran pounded on the door with some kind of dull, heavy object. "UP DADDEEE! UP!"

Flack sighed heavily. Rolling over onto his back, he rubbed at his blurry, burning eyes. His allergies -which seemed to be to just about everything under the sun every time the warm weather arrived- were already acting up in full force despite the cocktail of antihistamines he'd swallowed down before climbing into bed following yet another long, tedious shift. He yawned noisily. The noise disturbing the cat sleeping, and snoring, next to him. Slippers regarding him through tiny slits in her eyes, yawned herself and stood up. She gave a massive stretched, flipped him in the face with her tail, and proceeded to turn a complete circle before lying down once again. Curling herself into a tight ball, purring contently.

"Get over here right now, Kieran!" Sam hissed. "Daddy's trying to sleep! Get over here!"

"NO!" Kieran bellowed. "NO MOMMY! BAD MOMMY!!"

The pounding at the door started up once again. Accompanied by a nerve grating scratching noise as the toddler scraped his fingernails against the wood. Flack shifted onto his side and looked over at the door, grinning at the sight of one tiny hand, its fingers wriggling, shoved under the door frame and poking into the room.

"You can not run around the house naked!" Sam informed their son. "You need to come with me and get a diaper on."

"NO!" Kieran argued. "NO 'IPER."

"Well a pull-ups then," his mother said. "But you can't be going around with your noonie hanging out."

"My noonie!" Kieran informed her.

"I know it's yours. But you can't show it to the entire world. And if you don't come with me and get a pull-up on, I'm going to call the police and have them come over here and take your noonie to jail. Do you want that?"

"Peas-man," Kieran said.

"Right. The policeman. And he'll come here and take your noonie and you'll never get it back. Is that what you want?"

"Want daddy!" the toddler cried, hammering on the door.

"Daddy's sleeping," Sam informed her son. "When mommy goes to work in a half an hour, then you'll get to spend all day with daddy. Just right now come and get a pull-up on and finish your breakfast."

There was a rustling noise as Kieran stood up. Finally relenting to the higher power. But not before giving a heavy, overly dramatic sigh.

Just like his mother, Flack thought with a smirk as he lay on his back once again, a forearm over his eyes.

"Don't be giving me looks like that young man," Sam huffed, as the sounds of their footsteps headed away from the bedroom door. "Don't be giving me none of that Flack attitude."

Flack couldn't help but laugh at that. A laugh that because of the congestion in his nose and throat, turned into a hacking cough that could wake the dead. Of course, indulging in a nearly pack and a half day smoking addiction didn't make the cough any better. He was still struggling in vain to kick the nasty, filthy habit. His cut off date was when his wife went into the hospital for the last month of her pregnancy. Before the triplets came home, he was determined to do whatever it took to get himself healthy again. The patch, the gum, hypnotism, he didn't really care. Whatever worked.

"DADDEEE!" Kieran cried happily, as the noise of the cough fell on his tiny ears.

"Please, Kieran, don't…"

But Sam's warnings and pleads fell on deaf ears. Flack heard the patter of his son's small feet as Kieran raced to the bedroom once again.

"DADDEE!" he called, smacking the door. "UP!"

"Kieran, give me a break here, child," Sam begged. "Just come with me…"

"It's okay, babe," Flack called to her. "Just let him in. I'm up anyway."

He wanted to add, "How in the hell can someone sleep in a place like this in the first place?", but held it back. Clearing his throat noisily, the door swung open, hitting the wall behind it hard enough to chip paint as Kieran bulldozed his way inside. Flack sat up, ready to greet his son cheerfully, until all words and thoughts were tossed aside as a horrific, excruciating pain shot through his entire stomach. Long past were the occasional pulls and knots he felt in his gut when he either moved or stretched the wrong way. What had been an occasional thing had become a common occurrence in the past two weeks alone. A burning sensation that brought tears to his eyes and bile to his throat.

He squeezed his eyes shut and dropped his chin to his chest as he brought his hand to his stomach. Willing the pain away. Silently praying and pleading for some relief.

"Kieran," Sam's voice was quiet and full of concern. "You sit nicely beside, daddy. He's not feeling good right now and he needs you be nice and quiet. Okay?"

"O'tay," the toddler agreed.

His eyes screwed shut, Flack heard the rustle of sheets and felt the mattress move slightly underneath him. He was aware of movement in the bedroom as his wife disappeared into the bathroom. He heard the squeak of the cold water tap as it was turned on and then off again a moment later. He picked up on the sound of the medicine cabinet being slid open and then shut and the rattle of pills in a plastic bottle. He felt warm breathing on his bare arm and a soft, small hand on his back.

"Daddy?" Kieran's voice, tiny and frightened. Despite only being sixteen months old, the fact that there was sudden tension and worry in the room wasn't lost on him. Children picked up on things like that. And reacted to them. Albeit badly for the most part.

Flack cracked an eye open and looked down into that innocent face and those big blue eyes.

"Dwink?" Kieran asked, holding up his Elmo sippy cup. Half full of lukewarm apple juice. The object he'd been using to hammer on the door with. "Dwink, daddy?"

"Here," Sam said, as she hurried out of the bathroom, a glass of water in one hand, two small pills in the palm of the other. Oxycontin. Not as strong as percocet, but equally as addictive. "Did it just come on you?" she asked, as she stood at the side of the bed, offering the pills and the glass to him.

"Just now," he confirmed, gritting his teeth, the simple act of reaching out to pluck the meds from her hand causing him discomfort. "I guess I sat up too quickly."

"You really need to get that checked," she commented, her voice and eyes filled with concern.

"I'm going for tests next week," he reminded her, popping the pills into the mouth before taking the cup from her and swallowing the medication with a huge sip of the ice cold water. "What more do you want from me?"

"Maybe we should take you to the hospital," she said.

He snorted at the sheer absurdity of her suggestion.

"It could be something really serious," she fretted. "What if it's something life or death, Donnie? What if it comes on again only this time you end up unconscious or…"

"I'm fine," he assured her. Both embarrassed, and irritated, by the way she loved to fawn all over him when he wasn't feeling well.

It was up to him to take care of her. Not the other way around. She was the one that was painfully pregnant. Having a hard time getting around on the best of days. Her ankles constantly swollen and her back always aching. She didn't need to be worrying about him. Or wearing herself thin by taking care of him.

"I hardly doubt everything is fine," she said. "You wouldn't be having pain like that if everything was fine."

"It's going away," he assured her, his eyes closed once again, his hand rubbing his stomach. "Give it a few minutes and it will be gone completely."

"Maybe you shouldn't be watching Kieran today," she commented, reaching out to comb her fingers through his short hair. "I can either call in sick and tell Mac what's going on or I can either call your parents or ask Lindsay is she doesn't mind taking Kieran for the day. I don't think she had anything major planned and it will give you a chance to rest."

"I'm fine," he repeated forcefully.

She sighed. Relegating herself to the fact that the more she worried and the more she pressed, the more he would push her away. And the nastier he'd get. So instead of carrying on with the questions or the slight scoldings, she simply sat down on the edge of the bed and reached out and rubbed his arm and his shoulder soothingly. Preferring to be a source of comfort as opposed to dumping the extra stress her sometimes incessant nagging and bitching caused, onto him.

"Daddy 'ick?" Kieran asked as the minutes ticked by. He'd done a phenomenal job of staying still and quiet. But five minutes to a child seemed like a lifetime. Especially one like Kieran who often found it impossible to stay still for thirty seconds.

Sam looked over at him and placed her finger over her lips.

"Shhhh…" Kieran said, as he brought his finger to his own lips. "Daddy 'ick," he whispered.

She brought her two hands together, as if praying, brought them to the side of her head and laid her cheek on them. Indicating for him to lie down.

"No sweep," Kieran shook his head.

"Just lie down and be quiet for a little while," she said. "Until daddy feels better. Can you do that?"

The toddler nodded and leaning back against his mother's rumpled pillows, stuck the thumb of one hand into his mouth, as he used the other hand to offer his apple juice to cat. "Ippers dirsty?" he asked in a quiet voice. "Ippers dwink?"

"Kieran, please," Sam whispered. "Shhh…"

"Ippers dirsty," he informed his mother.

"I'm sure she is. But she doesn't want your apple juice. Now just lie there and be quiet, okay?"

"O'tay," he said with an exasperated sigh, rolling his eyes as he stretched out one long leg and bending it at the knee, brought it up to his stomach and began taping his sippy cup against his toes.

Silence fell on the bedroom once again. Minutes passed by. The pain in Flack's stomach began to subside and his breathing and skin colour returned to normal. Sweat glistened on his forehead and trickled from his temples and down onto his cheeks and neck. Sam slowly and carefully pushed herself up from the bed and went into the bathroom room more. Where she wet a face cloth with cool water before returning to the bedroom.

"Are you sure you're okay taking care of K today?" she asked, as she held the face cloth to her husband's forehead.

"I'm okay," he replied, and reached up to take the cloth away from her. "I can do that, you know."

"I know," she said, and pushed his hand away. "But maybe I want to do it. Is that such a crime?"

He shook his head, smiling at her as she wiped the sweat from his brow and face and then laid the face cloth across the back of his neck.

"You'd make a decent nurse," he told her, bringing his hand up to cover hers on the back of his neck.

"You're just saying that because you want to see me in some sexy little naughty nurse get up," she teased.

"Well now that you mention it…" he grinned.

"In case you haven't noticed my dear, I'm fat. Huge. As big as a house. There's not enough material in the world to make a nurse's costume to fit me. For now, I have to stick to wearing tents to cover my ginormous ass and boobs."

"You're not fat," he informed her. "You're pregnant. There's a difference. And I think you're crazy hot in your maternity clothes."

"That's because you're a strange, perverted man who gets turned on by pregnant women," she laughed.

"Not by all pregnant women. Just one. And it's not so much how you look when you're pregnant. Although you're amazingly beautiful and sexy when you are pregnant. It's knowing that those are my babies in there. That I had some part in creating them. That's the hottest thing of all."

"I swear you'd be happiest if I was barefoot and pregnant constantly," she declared. "And how can you even think about that kind of thing while you're sick?"

"I'm not sick," he told her. "And the pain's gone away. And even if it wasn't, I'm just hurtin' a bit. I'm not dead."

"Well that's a good thing," she said and kissed his rough, unshaven cheek. "I can still call your parents or ask Lindsay to…"

"Don't worry about it," Flack told her, finishing the glass of water. "I'm fine now. The hillbilly heroin will kick in soon and I'll be as good as new."

"But you haven't slept very much in the past couple of days," she reminded him gently. "You need sleep Donnie."

"I'll sleep later," he told her. "I'll take a nap when K does. I'll go to bed early tonight. I don't spend enough time with him as it is. I just want to have a nice day with my son. Take him to Central Park. Go to the zoo. Have some McDonalds. Stuff like that."

"You can't do that on Sunday?" she asked. "When we're both home and we can both take him out just in case…"

"I am fine, Sammie," he responded. "Honestly. I wouldn't be telling you it was okay if it wasn't. If I was concerned that I wasn't able to properly take care of him, I would tell you that. But I am more than capable of looking after him, babe. Don't worry so much."

"I do worry," she told him, removing the face cloth from his neck. "You're my husband. My everything. It wouldn't be normal if I didn't worry."

"You worry too much," he said, and collapsed onto his back. He turned his face sideways and reached and laid his hand on the top of his son's head.

Kieran looked over at his father and smiled brightly. "Hi daddy," he chirped.

"Hey, buddy. You being a bad boy for mommy?"

The toddler shook his head. "Never," he declared.

Flack chuckled.

"He's sounding more and more like you every day," Sam sighed, standing up slowly, a hand on the small of her back. "Not to mention he's got all of your mannerisms and facial expressions."

"Strong genes," Flack told her. "The Flack ones obliterated the Ross ones during conception."

She snorted at that. "I need to go and finish getting ready for work. Danny will be on our doorstep soon. He's my chauffeur today."

"At least I don't have to worry about you telling me you're taking a cab but you're really taking the subway," he said.

"That happened twice, Don. Twice. Get over it. You're okay with him while I.."

"If you ask me that one more time, woman…"

She held her hands up in surrender and made her way slowly to the bathroom. "I don't know why I bother putting make up on," she commented.

"I don't know why you do either," Flack said.

"Donald!" she cried. "That's mean!"

"I didn't mean it like that!" he assured her. "I mean that I don't know why you wear it because you're naturally beautiful, babe. I don't know why you put all that crap on your face."

"Because I look like I'm twelve years old without it," she said. "And I have to cover my freckles. I hate my freckles."

"Well I happen to love your freckles," Flack informed her, as he across his body to scoop their son up into his arms. He bent his legs at the knee and settled Kieran on his stomach, with the toddler leaning back against his thighs. "My baby boy has your freckles. Look how cute he is."

"It's okay for a sixteen month old to be cute," Sam told him. "Not so nice to be told you're cute at thirty-four."

"Sam, trust me, cute is the last word that comes to mind when I'm asked to describe you. Beautiful, alluring, sexy, stunning. Just to name a few."

"Well you're just more than a little prejudiced," she reminded her husband. But he could tell, by the tone of her voice, that she was smiling. "So you boys have a busy day planned?" she asked.

"Little bit of this, little bit of that," Flack replied, tickling his son's stomach, grinning broadly as Kieran let out a musical peel of laughter. "Go to the park, play on the swings, go down the slide. Feed the ducks."

"'UCKS!" Kieran cried happily. "DADDY'S 'UCKS!"

"Ducks," Flack laughed, stressing the D. "They're called ducks."

"'Ucks!" the toddler repeated.

"Sounds like you guys are going to have a lot of fun," Sam said. "I wish I was staying home and going with you."

"We wish you were too," Flack told her. "But we'll have to make it a guy thing. Play some pool. Grab some beer and wings. Go to the hottest bars and pick up women. That kind of thing. Maybe we'll even stop by and visit you or come and meet you after work."

"That would be nice," she said. "I like when my two handsome boys come and see me."

"And I was thinking that…" he stopped mid sentence, his eyes widening as he felt something warm and wet trickle onto his stomach and down his sides. Followed by the distinct smell of urine. Glancing down, he was filled with both disgust and horror as he realized his son had neither a diaper, or a pull up on. And that Kieran had, in fact, urinated on him. He looked up at his son. "You little…"

"Pee-pee daddy," Kieran chirped, stating the obvious.

"Yeah…no kidding. You just went pee-pee all over me."

The toddler gave a shrug. "Ooops," he said, and then giggled.

"Sam!" Flack bellowed. "What in the hell?!"

"What's the problem?" she asked, appearing in the door way, makeup brush in one hand, a small container of blush in the other. "Are you having pain again?"

"Yeah! A pain in my ass! Named Kieran! Your damn son just took a leak all over me! He hasn't done that since he was a baby!"

"Well I'm sure he didn't mean to do it, Donnie."

"I realize that! But why the hell didn't you put a diaper or a pull up on the kid?"

"He was giving me a hard time. I was chasing him all over the apartment. And I was going to put something on him when we came in here, but then you had that pain and I.."

"Can you just…" he closed his eyes and bit his lip. Forcing himself not to snap on her. "Can you just get me something to clean myself and him up. And a diaper or whatever? Please?"

"Give me a second here," she said, and finished dusting her cheeks with blush.

"A second? Are you kidding me? Babe, I've got piss all over me here! It's getting on our bed!"

"Take it easy, Donnie," she said with a sigh and disappeared into the bathroom. He could hear her rummaging around. Putting her makeup away before coming out into the bedroom with a box of baby wipes, a pull up and a handful of Kleenexes. "I've got to get going," she told him, dropping the supplies on the bed.

"What? Are you serious? What about cleaning him up?"

"There's wipes for both you and him. Once you've gotten both of you cleaned up, just strip the bed down and toss the sheets in the laundry basket and I'll take care of it when I get home," she told him.

"Never mind wipes!" Flack exclaimed. "I'm going to have to take a shower!"

"Well you were probably going to take one anyway," she reasoned. "So what's the big deal?"

"The big deal is that your devil kid just relieved himself on me!"

"It could be worse," Sam said, and leaning over the bed, dropped a kiss on the top of her son's head before covering her husband's lips with hers in a tender goodbye kiss. "He could have taken a dump on you."

"That'll be next!" Flack grumbled and picked Kieran up and set him down next to him on the bed. "Jesus," he huffed, popping open the lid on the wipes and yanking out a handful. "Does he hold it all night or something?"

"He was keeping it all in just for you," Sam said. "Give you a golden shower."

Flack smirked as he cleaned himself off.

"Okay. I've got to go guys. Danny will be here any minute. I love you, baby boy," she kissed both Kieran's cheeks, then pressed her lips to the top of Flack's head. "I love you, too," she said as she headed for the bedroom door. "Be good. Both of you."

"NEVER!" Kieran cried and cackled evilly.

Sam paused in the doorway to glare at the toddler jumping on the bed.

"He learned that from you," Flack informed her. "Evil laugh and all."

"You know, you're both lucky you're so damn cute," she declared, and slipped from the room.

Flack looked up at his son, then effortless caught Kieran as the toddler's feet became tangled in the blankets and he toppled forward. "She loves us," he said, pressing a kiss to his son's forehead.

"Love mommy," Kieran said.

"But you love daddy more, right?"

"Mommy," the little boy answered.

"You pee on me but you love her more?"

Kieran nodded.

"Guess I should be used to playing second best, huh? It's always been mommy for you. That's okay. Daddy loves her, too."

"My mommy," Kieran declared.

Flack grinned and cuddled his son close. "We wouldn't know what to do without her, would we." It was more a statement than a question.

And one he didn't care to experience first hand anytime soon.

Blowing her bangs off of her perspiration soaked forehead, Lindsay balanced an overflowing laundry basket on her hip as she carried a stack of mail in one hand and her keys, dangling from one finger, jingled noisily as she headed for her apartment. There never seemed to be any rest for the weary. She and Danny had been up until the wee hours of the morning, finishing up the paint job in the baby nursery they'd lovingly created together and then putting together the crib and changing table and decorating the room with the various accessories they'd purchased. Classic Winnie the Pooh wall hangings and bedding, a three foot high snow white teddy bear that sat on a rocking chair in one corner, impossibly small clothes hanging in the closet. Toys and books and baby supplies taking up every possible inch of space.

She wasn't physically giving birth the to the child, but she felt like its mother. Seeing Danny so excited and glowing with the utmost love and pride for his unborn baby, brought tears to her eyes. Although it wasn't a child that they'd created together, Lindsay was overwhelmed by the feelings of love and acceptance she had for that tiny little human being. Who hadn't made their appearance yet, but had transformed their lives beyond measure. It was an incredible thing to share. The planning and the preparations. The late night, sleepy chats about their child's future. The picking of names and the choosing of a nursery theme. Seeing Danny like that was unlike anything Lindsay had ever experienced before. It was a softer, kinder and gentler side that touched her deeper then she ever thought anything could. He was the love of her life. They'd both made mistakes and paid dearly for them. And what mattered the most was that they had found their way back to each other. They were planning for their future. For their forever.

For their baby.

Thinking of the child as her baby brought a smile to her face. Despite the seemingly endless loads of laundry and the house cleaning that awaited her the moment she stepped foot in the door, the mere thought of becoming a mother made her burdens lighter. She was excited and extremely nervous. And couldn't wait until she held that baby in her arms for the first time.

Her keys slipped out of her hand as she juggled with them and tumbled noisily to the floor. Muttering profanities, she set the basket of clean clothes on the floor and bent down to retrieve her keys. Behind her, the door directly behind her clicked open and Flack's deep, authoritative voice and Kieran's giggling and broken speech drifted out into the hall.

"Hey guys," she greeted, as she snagged her keys and stood up. She turned to face the two as Flack was wheeling the stroller out of the apartment.

"Ti M!" Kieran cried, kicking his legs and waving excitedly from his buggy. Using the nickname for her that Danny had taught him. A short form of Auntie Montana.

Both father and son wore backwards NYPD ball caps. But while Kieran was dressed in a pair of jeans and an orange, yellow and white striped t-shirt and a pair of brown leather walking sandals, his dad, scruffy and unshaven, wore a navy blue golf shirt, beige cargo style shorts, and his new infamous blue and white Adidas sandals.

"Hello handsome," she greeted, flashing him a huge smile as she crossed the narrow hallway and crouched down in front of the stroller. "Are you being a good boy?" she asked, using the signs for you, good and boy as she spoke.

"Never!" Kieran giggled.

Flack gave an exasperated sigh and rolled his eyes. Locking the apartment door, he dropped his keys into a flip top compartment on top of the stroller and snapped the lid shut. "That's his new word," he said. "And it's getting old fast."

"Say, oh daddy. You're getting to be so crotchety in your old age," she said to her nephew.

"That's because him and his mother are driving me insane," Flack declared.

"You'd be lost without them," Lindsay said as she stood up, despite Kieran latching onto her finger. "So where are you guys off to?" she asked.

"We're doing some guy things today," Flack replied. "Don't know if we're going to attempt the walk into mid-town or take the subway, but that's where we're heading. I've got to go to Babies R Us and put down the last payment on all that stuff I ordered. And make sure delivery is set up."

"Sam's going to be so surprised when she gets home from the hospital with the triplets and sees the nursery," Lindsay gushed. "I can hardly wait to see her face. You've got a lot of work ahead of you, daddy."

"Tell me about it. Three of everything to put together. I still have to put in an order for one of them triple strollers. It's insane. Monroe. Insane. At least Adam and Gavin Moran are helping me out with the painting and all of that."

"Danny is more than willing to pitch in," she reminded him. "You know that."

"You guys will have your own little one to take care of," Flack said. "I'm not taking away from that. I know how amazing and precious those first days and months are. Enjoy the baby. They're not tiny for long."

Lindsay smiled. "You sounded a little sad when you said that, Don."

He shrugged. "My baby boy is growing up. He's my first born. I remember bringing him home from the hospital with an IV attached to him. The feedings every three hours and bouts of colic and episodes of the croup. First time he rolled over, first time he sat up. First time he smiled. And the first time he said da-da, I swear I nearly bawled right there and then. And now he's walking and running and climbing. He drinks from a cup and feeds himself. And never mind using the potty. It's not a constant thing, but it's a massive leap for him. I remember all the baby things and I wonder where the last sixteen months went."

"Before you know it, it will be his first day of school and his first crush and his first broken heart."

He frowned. "Way to make me even more depressed, Monroe. Thanks."

"Just think, you've got three more on the way. Triple the excitement and milestones."

"And the grey hair," he laughed. Looking over top of her head as the sound of the elevator doors sliding open caught his attention.

Lindsay cast a glance over her shoulder, watching along with him as a young woman, no older than twenty, stepped out onto their floor, her head down, her waist length, raven black, rod straight hair falling in front of her face as she read information off of a piece of paper in her hands. She was short -no taller than five foot three- and slightly overweight, clad in a conservative knee length charcoal skirt and simple white blouse and black ballet flats. A knock off Louis Vuitton dangling from one arm. Neither had seen her coming and going before.

She went to the right, then doubled back after checking the number on some of the apartment doors and realizing she was going the wrong way. The closer she got as she approached them, they were able to make out her darker skin tone. She was of Native American descent and had a smooth, flawless complexion. And Flack knew, before the young woman even got within a foot of him, that she was coming to his door. The golden brown eyes and the freckles scattered across her pixie like nose were a dead giveaway to who she was looking for.

"Can we help you?" Lindsay asked politely.

"Apartment 703?" the young woman inquired.

Flack nodded.

She eyed Lindsay from head to toe, a slight frown on her face. "Are you Samantha Flack?" she asked.

Lindsay shook her head. "I'm Lindsay Monroe. Samantha Flack is my best friend."

"She's also my wife," Flack spoke up.

The young woman turned to him and gave a soft smile. "I'm Sara," she introduced herself, a trembling hand outstretched. She was nervous despite her cool exterior. "Sara Mitchell. I'm…"

"I know who you are," Flack said, shaking her hand politely.

"My dad told me all about you," she told him. "About how you work together. He said that he talked to Sam and she wanted to meet me and I've been trying for years to find my birth mother and when he came to me with her address and phone number I…" she took a deep breath and closed her eyes briefly. "I'm sorry," she said sheepishly. "I'm just more than a little nervous. It's not every day that you're nineteen and meeting your step-father and little brother for the first time."

Flack cleared his throat noisily. Uncomfortable with the step father and little brother references. "So you just decided that coming here unexpectedly and unannounced was a good idea?" he asked, sounding more harsh than he'd intended.

Sara blinked. Taken back by his off handed demeanour. "Well I was in the neighbourhood so I.."

"We were just on our way out." Flack said, nodding down at the stroller. "We've got some important errands to run. Stuff like that."

"Well I don't want to keep you," Sara told him, a hint of annoyance, and slight hurt, creeping into her voice, and in her eyes.

Flack found it startlingly how alike, despite the Native American blood flowing through the young woman's veins, this girl was to his wife. The same eyes and nose, the same tone of voice and petite height. And judging by how easily Sara offended, the same level of sensitivity.

"Why don't you just tell me why you stopped by and I'll see what I can do for you," Flack told her.

"I just wanted to talk to her," Sara explained. "I just wanted to meet her. I was so excited when my dad said she wanted to meet me. I haven't been able to think straight or eat or sleep since he told me. All I've been thinking about is what I'll say when I meet her. How I'll act. What she'll say to me and how she'll act towards me."

"Well she's not here," Flack said. "She's at work. And I don't think if it's a good idea that you just drop in on her unexpectedly while she's working."

"Obviously I wouldn't do that. I just thought because I was in the neighbourhood and I got up the nerve, that I'd swing by and…" Sara sighed. "Look, I know this is really, really strange. Me showing up out of the blue like this."

Flack nodded, confirming her last statement.

"But I just want to meet her. I just want to see her and talk to her. She's my mom."

"And she's not here," Flack repeated. "Trust me, if she was, I'd unlock the door and tell you to go on in. But she's at work. And I'm running behind on things I need to do with my son. So if you've got a number she can reach you at or something…"

"I'll give her a call," Sara said. "I'm not home a lot so it's better if I do it that way."

"Whatever you want to do," Flack shrugged. "It has no bearing on me."

"Well, actually, it kind of does, don't you think?" the young woman asked.

"She's home all day tomorrow," Flack ignored the question.

"I'll give her a call tomorrow then," Sara said.

"You do that," he gave a stiff smile. "Have a nice day," he said dismissively.

She frowned slightly, but didn't respond. Instead she leaned over the stroller and ran a hand over Kieran's head and smiled gently at the toddler. "You must be Kieran. You're such a cutie," she gushed. "I've always wanted a little brother. All I have are sisters. It will be nice spending time with you and getting to know you."

"Me K!" the little boy chirped.

"And my name is Sara," she said. "I'm your big sister."

Kieran shook his head. "Baby sistah," he told her. "Mommy baby."

"Your mommy's having a baby?" she asked.

He nodded and held up three fingers. "Dis many!" he announced.

"Three babies! That's really exciting! You're going to be a great big brother. I can tell."

"Me big brudda," Kieran exclaimed. "Tree babies."

"You're very, very smart for your age," Sara praised. "I have to go now. It was nice meeting you. Hopefully I will get to see you again soon."

"Bye-bye!" Kieran blew her a kiss and waved to her as she journeyed back down the hallway towards the elevators. "See ya!"

She stopped and pressed the down button and waved goodbye to him.

The elevator came quick. And the moment the young woman stepped on and the doors closed behind her, Flack breathed an enormous sigh of relief. Turning to say something to Lindsay, he found her staring up at him, fury in her eyes, her lips drawn into a tight line of disappointment and disgust.

"What?" he asked.

"Did you really have to be so mean to her?" Lindsay asked. "You couldn't have been a little nicer? You couldn't have dug down deep and found some way to be pleasant. You didn't need to be so goddamn rude."

"I wasn't," Flack said. "I was indifferent."

"You were an asshole," Lindsay snapped. "And I've seen you be an asshole a lot in the years I've known you. And most of the time, the person on the receiving end of your bullshit deserves it. But she didn't. You were offhand and cold and a total prick."

"Tell me how you really feel, Monroe," Flack smirked. He checked to make sure he'd remembered to lock the door, then started down the hall.

"Don't walk away from me like that," Lindsay chased after him. "Don't take off because you know I'm right. Because it hurts to hear the truth."

"I'm not taking off. I'm leaving because I've got a busy day ahead of me and I…"

"You're running with your tail between your legs," she said. "Same way you do when Sam's right about something. Because you can't handle assertive and aggressive women. 'Cause everyone you've ever been with save from Sam bent over backwards to make you happy. They kissed your ass. And you can't handle it when a woman sticks up for herself and stands up to you."

Flack snorted and shook his head.

"I know how weird this must be for you, Don," Lindsay sympathized with him. "I know it must be really strange to find out you're the step-dad of a nineteen year old. You weren't even in high school yet when she was born. So I know that accepting her is really hard and awkward for you."

"I don't owe her anything," Flack told her. "I wasn't in Sammie's life way back then. I'm not her father. She was adopted out and she's had a great life. And now all of a sudden she wants to meet her mother? Why? Why does she want to meet her?"

"Because Sam gave birth to her. Because maybe Sara felt that something was missing and her heart and that her birth mom would fill that space."

"She's my wife, Lindsay. She's my wife and she's Kieran's mother. She's the triplets mother."

"And she's Sara mother," Lindsay reminded him. "As much as that burns your ass to hear it. That young woman is your step-daughter. She's Kieran's and the triplets half sister. There's no two ways around it."

"She doesn't need to be part of our lives," Flack argued, reaching out to press the down button for the elevator. "She's had a great life. She doesn't need to come and impose on ours."

"I highly doubt she's going to coming over for dinner every night and have sleepovers," Lindsay told him. "I don't think she's going become a permanent fixture."

"Good," Flack said. "Because I don't want her to be."

"Why not?" she asked. "Is it that bad of a thing? If she wants to be part of your family?"

"She's not part of my family. She's an illegitimate child Sam had as a teenager. Sam got knocked up and she gave her kid away. And that kid just can't show up nineteen years later and expect to be part of Sammie's life."

"Says who? Samantha said that? Or is that a decision you've come up with all on your own?"

"Sam's got other kids. She's got Kieran! And triplets on the way. She doesn't need Sara. She didn't want her nineteen years ago. Why should she want her now?"

"Because maybe Sam feels like shit for giving her up!" Lindsay snarled. "Maybe because deep down Sam never wanted to give her up. And maybe because Sam simply wants a relationship with her daughter."

"Well she can't have one," Flack concluded.

"What the hell is your problem?" Lindsay asked. "You said you were okay with her having a kid back then."

"And I am okay with it," he responded. "I don't care what happened nineteen years ago. I don't care what Sam did when she was fifteen. But what I care about is that mistake she made coming back and trying to take over our lives."

"You are such a selfish bastard," Lindsay huffed. "I can't believe you're being so cold about this! About her! She's a human being, Don. And yeah, Sammie made a mistake. Lots of people make mistakes. If you want to look at it this way, technically Kieran was a mistake. He was unexpected and unplanned. You two were barely involved when Sammie got pregnant. But it happened. He happened. And you love him with every fibre of your soul."

"He's my son," Flack said. "Sara is nothing to me."

"But she's something to Sam. Whether you want to admit that or not."

He sighed heavily. "I owe her nothing."

"You owe Sam plenty," Lindsay said.

"Look, she doesn't need to..."

"It's not up to you to decide anything for Sam," Lindsay angrily cut him off. "If she wants to have a relationship with her daughter, that's her business."

"I'm her husband!" Flack snapped.

"And as her husband, you should be putting your childish, petty bullshit aside and supporting her. Do you think it was easy for her Don? Think about it. She was fourteen when she found out she was pregnant. Fifteen when she gave birth. She lived in the projects with a monster of a father. Can you imagine how scared she was? Can you imagine how it felt for her to have to hand her baby over? Just to save it from a life like she had? Have you ever sat back and thought about how terrifying and heart breaking that all must have been for her?"

He sighed once more and shook his head.

"She has a chance to make things up to her daughter," Lindsay said. "Sara may have had an amazing childhood. But you can't tell me there's not a part of Sammie that doesn't feel guilty for having to give her up. And you being like this? Argumentative and nasty? Confrontational? That isn't making her feel any better about herself. She needs your support. She doesn't need your condescending, holier than thou crap."

He didn't respond. The elevator arrived and he said nothing as he stepped inside, pushing the stroller in front of him. "Are we done here?" he asked, finger lingering over the button for the lobby.

"Have a nice long think about what I just said," Lindsay told him. "All of it."

"See ya later," Flack said, and hit the button for the ground floor, followed by the one marked 'close door'.

Lindsay glared at him as the door slowly shut, separating them. Sighing heavily, she crossed her arms over her chest and stomped down the hallway towards her apartment.

Hoping that for the sake of everyone involved, that even a slice of what she had said, had gotten through that stubborn, rock hard head of his.

Thanks to everyone that is reading and reviewing! I appreciate each and every one of you! I hope that you all continue to read and review! I love doing these stories for sheer entertainment sake and I hope you all continue to enjoy them!

Special thanks to:

Laurzz

Hope4sall

Axellia

Laplandgurl

muchmadness

Delko's Girl 88

Wolfeylady

Forest Angel

Bluehaven4220

Soccer-bitch