DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CSI:NY OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS. I ONLY OWN SAMANTHA FLACK AND THE FLACK KIDS

SPECIAL WELCOME TO 26HANNAH26

FINALLY, WE HAVE A 'VISUAL' FOR KIERAN! THANKS TO MY DEAR FRIEND RACHEL, KIERAN IS BASED ON BRITISH ACTOR CHRISTIAN COOKE

Guilty girl, golden boy

"I've been roaming around always lookin' down at all I see,
Painted faces fill the places I can't reach
You know that I could use somebody
You know that I could use somebody
Someone like you

And all you know and how you speak
Countless lovers undercover of the street
You know that I could use somebody
You know that I could use somebody
Someone like you

Off in the night while you live it up I'm off to sleep
Waging wars to shake the poet and the beat
I hope it's gonna make you notice
I hope it's gonna make you notice
Someone like me."
-Use Somebody, Kings of Leon

"You think I got my head up my ass when it comes to our kids?"

The question, posed to Samantha as she and her husband strolled leisurely through Sheep's Meadow in Central Park, both startled her out of the daze that she had so easily stumbled into. Since dinner, her mind had been on overdrive. Consumed with thoughts about how she had so easily and effortlessly quit her job. About how the meeting between Kieran and Mac had come earlier in the day. Of all the things that lay ahead of her now that she was expecting her seventh child.

The first visit with her OB and ultrasound had been booked for the following week. She had wracked her brain trying to come up with a suitable conception time, but with the insanity that had been her menstrual cycle and what she had thought was early menopause, there was no possible way that she could accurately determine when that seventh baby had been made. She had taken into considering the intimacy issues that had plagued them and how only a month and a half had passed since they had gotten back into the swing of things, love making wise. And there was no possible way she was only a month and a half pregnant. Meaning she would have had to conceive four months, if not more, before.

Too insane, she had silently mused over dinner. The thought of being halfway through a pregnancy and only knowing for a day and a half that she was expecting…it was daunting. And completely surreal. There was so much to do and so little time. A nursery to get set up. They had decided, although the baby would stay with them the first couple months of their, they'd eventually move Kieran into the basement -they'd have to create a room for him, but Flack didn't seem put out by, or daunted by, the thought of renovations- and then put the new baby in either Liam or Declan's room and move one of them into Kieran's old spot. It was all too confusing for Sam. Thinking of sleeping arrangements and all the baby necessities they needed to buy. A crib, stroller, car seat, clothes, monitor. The list went on and on and on with no end in sight. And it literally gave her a headache to think about it all.

After dinner, she'd made a brief call home. She had been expecting to hear utter pandemonium over the over phone. She was used to hearing the kids yelling at each other and fighting and music blaring in the background. Instead, she got a rather subdued Kieran and not a hint of trouble at the homestead. That alone had been enough to cause her eyebrows to raise in concern and curiosity, and she'd asked him, only half joking, if he'd either slaughtered his siblings, drugged them and knocked them out, or had locked himself in a closet where it was nice and quiet.

He'd given a small, tired sounding laugh that reminded her so much of his father. "Don't worry mommy," he'd said. "I haven't tied them up and tortured them," he'd paused, then added in a serious tone, "Yet."

Mommy.

He was half little boy, half grown man. His voice deep and soothing, yet still using the term of affection for her that he'd been unable to abandon even as he sprouted well above six feet tall and tipped the scales at nearly two hundred pounds. He was a gentle giant. Or at least he had been. The kind of kid that while he towered over all the kids at school from grade one on, was the first one to bring home a wounded bird he found on the sidewalk or invite the loners and the disabled children over for dinner and sleepovers without consulting his parents first. The kid who cried easily if he was picked on, but who was kick to knock the shit out someone on the playground if they so as much bullied one of his friends.

She wasn't sure what had happened to Kieran along the way. Where all of the anger and resentment had come from. He certainly hadn't been raised in a home where his parents hated each other or their children. He'd never been physically or emotionally abused. He'd been witness to say nasty arguments between his mom and dad but he'd never come in the middle of one. Was the yelling and name calling he'd heard coming out of their mouths enough to mess him up? Scar him for life? To make him as furious and troubled as he was?

She'd pushed those thoughts aside and had told him to make sure that he called if anything came up he couldn't handle, to call her or his father right away. She could tell, by that heavy sigh he'd given her, that he was less then impressed by both the suggestion he needed mommy and daddy's help at his age, and that he couldn't handle the hell his brothers and sisters were capable of causing. And she knew that he was rolling his eyes even before he assured her, for the fifth time that conversation alone, that he had everything under control.

She'd hung up feeling slightly worried. It was uncharacteristic of her fifteen year old to sound so…down. Kieran was usually the life of the party. Boisterous and loud. The class clown for the most part. He loved to crack jokes and popped off sarcastic comments with ease. He was happy go lucky and made friends easily. People were drawn to his infectious personality. Guys wanted to be his friends, and girls wanted to date him. Hell, mothers wanted their daughters to date him. With his tall, strong build and his brilliant blue eyes and dimply smile, he was a damn good looking kid and he knew it. Even as a four year old, running around the twelfth precinct in his overalls and rugby shirts and backwards ball cap, he was constantly declaring to anyone who would listen:

"I'm smart like mommy, cute like daddy!"

She was worried about her son. Worried about the drastic change in his personality. From being part of a peer mentoring group to putting other students in the ICU. From a B, sometime A student to barely passing his courses. From talkative and loveable to brooding and serious.

And almost unapproachable.

She had attempted to push her concerns out of her mind and enjoy the walk through Central Park. Sheep's Meadow had always been her favourite area of the eight hundred and sixty three acre park. And with the sun setting and the horizon a stunning display of streaks of purple, pink and orange, she finally felt herself relaxing and her frantic brain slowly letting go of everything and anything that was troubling her. She was comforted by the familiar weight and feel of her husband's hand protectively and affectionately resting on the small of her back, his other hand holding a paper bag with jute handles that bore the restaurant's name and carried three boxes of Tavern on the Green's legendary black forest cake and the remains of her massive steak dinner. She felt secure and at ease as she walked tucked into Flack's side, an arm around his waist while she carried a strawberry banana bubble tea she'd bought off a vendor in her free hand.

But the question he'd popped off had caught her off guard. And she now looked up at him, her eyebrows arched.

"Where did that come from?" she asked. "What's going on inside your head that you'd ask me something like that?"

Flack shrugged. "Just something I've been thinking about," he said. "You know, considering Kieran's gotten as out of control as he is. How'd I let that happen? Why didn't I see he was having some issues? I mean, am I that absent that I don't realize what my kids are up to?"

"Donnie, you're job is extremely important," she gently reminded him. "You're Deputy Inspector. That comes with a staggering amount of responsibility. Both on the clock and off. No one is expecting you to be able to donate a hundred percent to your family. We all get it. You know that."

"You shouldn't have to get it," he argued lightly. "You and the kids shouldn't have to come second."

"We shouldn't," she agreed. "But we do. And it's not all of the time, baby. I went into a marriage and a life with you fully knowing the stresses of the job. The time constraints. And each time you were up for a promotion, we talked about it and weighed the pros and the cons. Like any mature couple would do. You're away from home a lot. It happens. I've accepted that. So have the kids. For the most part, anyway. So why…"

"I fee like our kids are the way they are because of me," he admitted. "Because I'm not around as much as I should be. Because I'm not there to control things and…"

She glared up at him. "Are you doubting my ability to take care of our children?" she asked. "Are you questioning how I handle things? The parenting skills I've shown for the past fifteen years?"

"What? No!" he answered quickly. "Jesus no. Babe…you're an amazing mother. You know that. Everyone knows that. You hold the family together. You've always been the one that made sure the bills were paid and the kids do their homework and help out around the house. That they have everything they need. Doctors and dentists appointments kept on track. All of Declan's therapies scheduled and up to date. I mean, we have half a dozen kids. Another one on the way. Not many women could balance all of those kids, a workaholic husband and a career."

She stared up at him. Amused by his back pedalling. Then she gave a giggle and rubbed the small of his back affectionately before hooking a finger through one of his belt loops. "Relax Donnie…I'm just playing with you. I know how much you appreciate me. I know that you recognize everything I do for your family. You've never shied away from telling me or showing me how grateful you are. Just like I love and appreciate you for the things you bring to our marriage and our family. You're the rock. You keep me sane when it feels like I'm going to go crazy. You discipline the kids…"

"Not very effectively apparently," he grumbled.

She frowned, and releasing her hold on the back of his khakis, let her hand drift lightly over his ass before stepping in front of him. "Where is all of this coming from?" she asked. "You've never been on to doubt yourself like this."

"I don't know…I guess all of this drama with Kieran just has me thinking about how I obviously completely fucked up as a father somewhere along the way."

"That's bullshit and you know it," she scolded.

"Think about it, babe. Think about all the times I've haven't been there for the kids when they needed me. That I've…"

"And think about all the times you have been there for them," she interjected. "Times you've skipped out of meetings early so you could go to their soccer games or swim meets or gymnastic lessons. The triple shifts you've pulled just so you could have a weekend off to take them camping or just stick around town and do things with them. The skinned knees that you've cleaned and bandaged up. Monsters you've chased out from under beds and out of closets. Tears you've dried. Donnie, those are the moments you should be concentrating on. Because you've done so much that you've never given yourself credit for."

"But Declan, Sammie. Look at how far behind he is. Look at how bad his speech is."

"Don, he isn't behind in things because you haven't been around as much as maybe you feel you should be. His speech isn't horrific because of the lack of time you've spent with him. He's behind because that's just the way it is. He has Down Syndrome. He doesn't have Absentee Father Syndrome. Look at the money we've spent on speech therapy for that kid. It's a staggering amount, right?"

He nodded.

"Declan is the way he is because of what he has," she said. "Because of some goddamn extra chromosome. He's not like that because of anything you've done or haven't done."

"Okay…" Flack conceded. "So he's a bad example. But Kieran…"

"Don't even think about blaming Kieran and his teenage angst on yourself." Sam snapped.

"Sammie, I took off for eight months out of his life, We lived in separate houses. I wasn't around like I should have been. I kept telling him that one day he'd come to live with me and each time I let him down. Each and every time. He hates me for that. I hate myself for that."

"Don…listen to me. You…"

"I what?" he asked. "I wasn't there, Sam. You know it, I know it. I took off and.."

"No!" she snapped. "You did not take off! I asked you to leave. You left willingly because it was what was best for us and our kids at that time. And it didn't do our kids any long term damage did it? Or us? Christ, Donnie, we got back together. We fixed things. We had more children…" she paused and laid a hand on her stomach. "We're having another baby. At our ages! You leaving did not screw Kieran up. He's fifteen. He's got issues. And we're going to get to the bottom of them and help him. Together. As his parents You did not mess up with him."

"But…"

"You didn't!" she insisted. "He's a teenager. And being a teenager is not easy. Think about what you were like at fifteen. Would you honestly want to go through being fifteen all over again? All the changes going on not just with your brain but your body too?"

"I don't know," he said with a grin. "I didn't do too bad at fifteen. All the ladies seemed to love me."

She rolled her eyes.

"But you love me most of all," he chided and leaning over, pressed a soft kiss to her lips. "And you're the only one that matters."

She stared at him, eyebrows arched.

He winked and pecked the tip of her nose. "You're right, baby," he said. "Being a teenager sucked for the most part. And I wouldn't want to go through it all over again. But I can't help but wonder if things would be different with K if I'd just been around more."

"And I can't help but wonder if things would be different with Kieran if I hadn't left him alone in our apartment and let some pedophile grab him," she argued. "He was a baby. My baby. And I left him there. Alone."

"Sammie…" he laid a hand on the side of his face. "You never…"

"I never what? Meant it? Of course I didn't mean it. I didn't leave him alone because I wanted someone to take him. Because I wanted Jack Doyle to molest him and split him open for twenty stitches and rupture his bowel. Because I wanted Dean Lessing to turn him into some soldier of his."

"Baby…relax…what happened to K wasn't your fault. It happened. We can't take it back. But none of it happened because of anything you did. I've always told you that. It was not your fault."

"I know…" she said, fighting back tears. "But that doesn't mean I haven't blamed myself every day for fifteen years. Or forgiven myself."

"Sammie…" Flack shook his head and pressed a kiss to her forehead. Slipping his hand from her cheek to the back of her neck, he pulled her into him and brought her head to rest on his chest. "What went down with Kieran was not your fault. You didn't know what Lessing was up to. That our neighbour was a convicted sex offender. No one knew. Those things just…happened."

"I know that…I do…I just…he was my baby, Donnie. It was up to me to protect him and I let…"

"You didn't 'let' anything. Understand me? You didn't allow anything to happen."

"Every day since then…every day for the last fourteen and a half years I've looked at him and thought about what Doyle did to him," Sam admitted. "I've thought about what I could have done to prevent it."

"Sam…babe…listen to me…"

"And now that he's having these issues…well now I think about how maybe what happened to him made him the way he is."

"Samantha, he was a baby. He doesn't remember anything."

"But he knows about it," she argued. "We had to tell him about it when he got older and started hearing things. He deserved to know. But maybe knowing…Donnie, he feels disgusted with himself sometimes. He's told me that. And I'm worried that he hates me for letting all of that happen to him."

"Listen to me…" Flack cupped her face in his hands and tilted her head up so she was looking directly in his eyes. "Baby…what happened to our son was not your fault. You made a simple mistake when you left him in the apartment. You'd done it before when you've run up to grab the laundry while he was napping. Shit, I used to do it too. But you always locked the door. How were you suppose to know that Jack Doyle was going to break in and snatch the baby? You couldn't have known that."

"But I…"

He ran his thumb over her lips to silence her. "You just made a mistake. Kieran doesn't blame you for anything. And he definitely doesn't hate you. He adores you. There's nothing that kid wouldn't do for you. To him, the sun rises and sets on you. He loves you and you know that. He loves his mommy."

She gave a small smile.

"I love his mommy," Flack added and kissed her. "And I hate seeing you like this. It's been fifteen years, hun. And trust me, I know the memory and the disgust never fully goes away. But still beating yourself up over it after all these years? Why didn't you tell me you were feeling like this sooner?"

"What was I suppose to say?" she sniffled.

"Oh I don't know," he said sarcastically. "How about, 'Donnie, I've got all this residual guilt eating away at me and it's driving me crazy. It makes me depressed and I feel like shit. I need someone to talk to about it. Can I talk to you?'. I don't know, Sam. That sounds pretty damn good to me."

"Life is just so hectic for us," she reasoned. "I just didn't…I didn't want to add to that. I didn't want to burden you."

"Burden me?" he asked incredulously. "Are you serious? You thought that talking to me about how your feeling and what you're going through would burden me?"

"You have a lot on your plate, Donnie. You've been not only being doing your job, but serving as acting Chief of Detectives because of Scagnetti's health issues. You've had nothing but bullshit with the commissioner to put up with, budget issues to worry about, lay offs to consider…"

"Samantha, I've become pretty damn good at multitasking. I could have handled all of that and still listened to you. And I'm not just talking about the last couple of years here. I'm talking about the last fifteen, babe. I thought after we went to that shrink Lake hooked us up with that you'd gotten past that guilt."

"I thought so too," she admitted. "But after the triplets were born and I was so despondent about Declan…I guess it just made everything creep up again."

"So then why didn't you come to me?" he asked. "Why didn't you just say something to me?"

"Because I didn't want to…"

"Burden me," he finished. "I heard that crap the first time. And honestly, it pisses me off to think that you'd honestly be thinking that listening to my wife and her issues and taking care of her would be such a burden. What? You didn't think I could handle home stuff on top of work stuff? You thought maybe I'd brush you off? Ignore you?"

"I don't know what I thought," she responded. "I just…I guess I didn't think."

"No shit," he said with a smirk. Then kissed her. "You've never been a burden, Sammie. You're my wife. The mother of my kids. You have never been, and never could be, a burden. My loyalties lie with you, babe. Don't ever doubt that."

She gave a much brighter smile and sniffled noisily.

"You think you need to talk to someone about all of this?" he asked gently, clearing tears off of her cheeks with his thumbs. "A therapist? I'm sure if you talked to Gussie she could recommend someone. Or maybe you could just sit down with her and tell her how you're feeling?"

She shook her head. "I don't need a therapist. I just need….you. I just need you."

He smiled and covered her lips with his in a long, slow kiss. "You've got me," he whispered, resting his forehead against hers. "You've always had me."

She gave a content sigh and melted into his embrace as he wrapped his arms around her and held her securely. She relaxed at the feel of the soft cotton of his golf shirt, cool and smooth against her cheek. The tension and worry flooded out of her body at the smell of his cologne and the warmth of his body and the strength of his arms. Everything that was so familiar and so comforting and yet so…perfect.

She had grown accustomed to his smell and the feel of his arms around her and to the taste of his kiss. She knew him inside and out. What made him tick. What made him happy or furious. What made him smile. What made him cry. And she may have been used to his presence and the sound of his voice, but she still felt light headed and tingly whenever he kissed her or touched her. Her heart never failed to beat a little faster when he looked at her a certain way.

And she still continued to fall more and more in love with him each passing day.

"Still say you've been slipping drugs in my coffee from day one." Flack joked. "I mean, there's gotta be some method to your madness. Some secret potion you've been concocting and putting in my food for sixteen years."

She gave a laugh and pinched his stomach playfully. "Yep…you've found me out, Donnie," she looked up at him, her eyes sparkling. "I've been drugging you all this time."

"Thought so. 'Cause I mean, no guy would willingly put up with you AND half a dozen kids."

She frowned and attempted to wriggle away from him.

He just chuckled and tightened his hold on her and kissed her once more. Much longer this time. And much more intense. Much to the chagrin of an elderly couple strolling by, hand in hand.

"Aren't they just the cutest?" they heard to woman say. "He's so tall and so big and she's just so…adorable and wee!"

Both Sam and Flack laughed. Bringing an abrupt end to their passionate moment.

"I don't think a time will ever come when someone doesn't say that about us," Sam said. "We've been hearing that since day one."

"And we'll hear until the very last day," he assured her. "There's a lot worse things that people could be saying about us."

"People have said worse about us," Sam laughed.

"Let them," he said. "Let them say whatever they want. All that matters is me and you. That's all that has ever mattered."

"God I love when you go all sappy bastard on me," she teased.

He grinned and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Think you're up for some good news?" he asked. "Or what I think you might find good news?"

"Good news is always welcome," she replied. "Let me guess! Your dollar and a dream theory finally paid off and we're millionaires?"

"Sorry, babe. I said good news. Not faint and later swing from the chandelier naked kind of news."

She pouted dramatically.

"Scagnetti's retiring," Flack told her. "Next month. He's finally decided that his health and Mari and the kids are more important then all the departmental bullshit. He mentioned it to me a couple weeks ago that he was thinking of leaving. I didn't think he was actually serious about it. But he called me today. Conference call actually. Me, him and the commissioner."

"The commissioner? Why…?"

A slow grin spread across his face. "Baby…you are looking at the next Chief of Detectives for the NYPD."

"Really?!" she squealed, her eyes and face lighting up excitedly as she tossed her arms around his torso. "Donnie! That's so amazing! I'm so proud of you! You've come this far and you're still so young! It's…incredible! I'm so proud of you."

"It's not like they had any other candidates babe," he laughed. "I'm just the next guy on the totem pole."

"Bullshit," she declared. "They gave it to you because you deserve it. Because they have faith in you and you'll be great at it. If they didn't want you or think you were ready, they would have looked for other people in different cities. They didn't settle for you. They chose you."

He grinned and ran his hands up and down her back. "You always were my biggest fan," he mused.

"Well…" she said and smoothed her hands along his shoulder and down his chest, her fingers resting lightly, and teasingly, on his belt. "That would be because I happen to have a really big crush on you Inspector Flack…or should I say Chief Flack."

"Man…I must be becoming a horny, perverted old man," he said. "'Cause hearing you call me that? That totally did something for me."

"Maybe you're just easy to please," she reasoned, and stepping closer to him so her tiny body shielded his, boldly unbuckled his belt.

"You're bad," he told her. "Very…very…very bad."

"You love it," she said with a giggle and did his belt back up. "You always have, always will."

He nodded in agreement. "Hard to believe you've managed to put up with me for this long," he commented.

"Oh it's been extremely tough," she teased. "It nearly broke me a few times and a couple of times I actually came close to killing you with my bare hands. But.." she sighed. "For the most part, you've been half decent to be around."

"For the most part?" he smirked.

"Well, even after sixteen years of nagging, you still could use some lessons in how to be more romantic."

Flack rolled his eyes.

"I'm just saying, honey…"

"I think I have something you might find totally romantic," he told her.

She arched her eyebrows and giggled.

"I said romantic. Not perverted. Although trust me, I would kill to call someone over to the house to stay overnight with the kids so me and you could spend one wild, kinky night in a hotel. But…"

"Always a but," she sighed.

"But I can do the next best thing and do something incredibly romantic," he assured her. "Well something incredibly romantic coming from me at least."

He set the paper bag down on the ground, and reaching into the inside pocket of his jacket, pulled out a small, blue velvet box.

"So now I know why you were guarding your coat with your life all night!" she cried. "Donnie…what…."

"Bear with me here, Sammie. Just…I've never been good at words or grand romantic gestures. But…" he sighed and proceeded to drop down onto one knee in the middle of the path, drawing curious stares and smiles from other people mingling in the park. "I wanted to do this the right way. I know I got a second chance in the carriage that night a long time ago. But I always wanted to do the whole down on one knee things for you. And I was thinking, seeing as we never had a proper wedding, that maybe we could have one a second time around."

Tears sparkled in her eyes. "I'd like that," she whispered.

"So here it goes…Samantha…I love you. I've always loved you. And I always will love you. You've given me an amazing life. You've given me yourself, six incredible kids," he paused and leaned forward to press a kiss to her stomach. "Seven," he corrected himself. "And I know we've had some really, really, really shitty times."

She nodded in agreement.

"But we've had even more incredible times. And there's never been a time I didn't love you. That I didn't want you. That I didn't need you. And I'll always love you, want you and need you. So will you marry me? Again?"

"Donnie…you could ask me a million times every day for an eternity," she said. "And the answer will always be the same. Of course I will."

He smiled and she bent down to kiss him gently. "Guess this is yours," he told her, and snapped the box open. Revealing a past, present and future ring -three brilliant cut diamonds, the middle the largest-set in a thick white gold band. "Finally getting your right hand ring." he teased, and slipped the piece of jewellery onto the third finger of her right hand. "Only took me about fourteen years to get on the ball after you first brought it up at your folks' place."

"Better late then never," she reasoned. "You're getting very sappy in your old age," she teased.

"I'm like a fine wine baby," he declared, and pressed a kiss to the top of her hand before getting to his feet. "I get better with age."

"Oh I thought you were going to say stinky and fermented," she joked, then laughed as he pulled her into his arms.

"Sixteen years later and you still have to be mean to me," he teased, nuzzling her neck gently. "You could never learn to be nice to me, could you."

"Never," she giggled. "It's just not in my nature."

"I would have thought that after all these years, I would have managed to turn you into an honest, sweet, tender woman," he continued, his hand settling on her hips, his breath warm and sweet on the side of her neck.

"Guess you haven't tried hard enough," she joked.

"How about you give me a chance to finally succeed? Let me make a phone call to Danny and Lindsay…Mac even…and we'll just run away from home for the night and do all the crazy, intense, dirty things we haven't been able to do in years with all of them kids in the house."

"We can't tonight. You know that. Liam has that whole Blessing of the Bikes thing tomorrow…"

"Danny's taking him to that," Flack reminded her. "We don't need to see them off."

"Declan has baseball," she added.

"So? That's at four in the afternoon. We'll be home way before four."

"You promised Kieran you'd have a talk with him when you got home tonight," she said.

He sighed heavily and laid his forehead on her shoulder before pulling back from her and kissing her. "We suck, you know that? We're boring. Extremely boring."

"We are," she agreed. "But lets face it. If those kids weren't around, we'd miss them."

"Speak for yourself," he said, and received a playful punch in the stomach for his comment. "You're right," he told her, and dropping the now empty ring box into the paper bag, picked it up and took her hand in his free one. "I would miss them. They drive me insane and sometimes I question why hell I ever let myself knock you up that many times, but I would miss them. Now if we could just get Liam acting normal."

"Don't be like that," Sam scolded. "Liam's normal."

Flack stared down at her, eyebrows arched.

"Okay…" she surrendered. "So maybe Liam is a little…eccentric."

"A little?" Flack laughed. "He's like fifty little Adam Ross' running around. What do you mean a little?"

"So what if he's a little different then the other five?" she asked. "Life is never boring with him around, that's for sure. He's always the life of the party. I mean, you have to admit, Donnie. Liam provides at least ninety percent of the laughs around the house."

"Yeah…and he also causes about ninety percent of the disasters too. Like the time he declared he wanted to be Peter Pan and jumped from the top of the basement stairs over the railing? And he totally missed the pile of cushions he was aiming for and landed on the floor and shattered his left arm? Remember that? Or how about the time he thought it was a good idea to put popsicles on the bottom of his feet and skate around the kitchen and he smashed his forehead off of the stove? Or how about the time he asked that Robbie kid from up the street to hit a golf ball off a tee he held between his teeth 'cause Liam saw Johnny Knoxville do it on that Jackass movie?"

"That was totally yours and Kieran's fault for watching that with him around," Sam informed him. "You should have known better then to watch that with him around."

"I can go on. Every split lip, every stitch that kid has had put in his head, every bump and bruise and black eye. All caused because he had to be the poor little bastard that got the most Ross in him."

"You're mean," Sam pouted.

"I'm mean? It was your son that had called in the middle of our date because he believed Kieran's whacked out bullshit about being picked out at the abandoned baby shelter."

"Yeah…and it was your son that was tormenting Liam to the point that he felt he had to call you," she pointed out.

"Face it, Sammie. All the Flack genes went into the first five and then Liam…well let's just say he's…well…he's a Ross."

"Get out of here!" she laughed and pushed him away from her.

"I'm just teasing you," Flack declared, and wrapping an arm around her shoulders, pulled her into him. "And you're right. There's nothing wrong with our little Liam being the way he is. He keeps us young. And hopefully, by the time he's twelve he's gotten rid of some of that excess energy and he's not in juvee for hot wiring cars or B and E."

"You know, I think Liam will surprise you when he's older," Sam told him. "He's going to be some Nobel prize winning scientist or something. Discover a cure for cancer. Run for president. Something incredible. I just know it."

"A scientist huh? Like that Doctor Browning and his time machine years back? A mad scientist. Yeah…Liam is just the type to believe that kind of crap, too. He's going to be like Adam. Into all that high tech, science fiction crap. Are you sure you didn't have an affair babe? Maybe with some nutty professor or something? 'Cause that kid is both too smart and too nuts to be mine."

"Maybe Liam is actually the normal one and it was the first time out of six that your sperm did something right," she reasoned.

He frowned. "That is so harsh, babe."

She laughed and stuck her tongue out at him.

He grinned and leaned down to kiss her. Groaning against her lips when he felt his phone vibrate against his hip. "If that's one of your children calling me 'cause someone plugged the toilet and flooded the basement again…" he said, and pulled his cell phone out of its carry case. He checked the call display and immediately frowned.

"It's work," Sam concluded.

Sighing as Flack released her hand, she retreated to a nearby bench while he tended to his phone call. She tried not to listen to the conversation taking place less then twenty feet in front of her, nor did she try not to be bothered by the grave look that came over her husband's face as he listened intently to the caller. She was curious and concerned as he began barking out orders and pacing furiously. Raking his hand repeatedly through his hair, his lips pursed as he listened, shaking his head over and over again and then finally, just before disconnecting the call, looking over at her with furious blue eyes and his chest heaving as adrenaline coursed through his body.

"I'll be right there," he barked into his cell phone before hanging up. He closed his eyes briefly. Then took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"What did I do?" Sam asked nervously as he stalked over to the bench. She could see the sweat beading on his forehead and his entire body trembling. "Oh my God…what's wrong? Did something happen to the kids? Is our house a crime scene or something? What…"

"We gotta make a pit stop before we head home," he told her, motioning for her to stand up.

"The kids!" she snapped. "Are they okay?"

"They're fine," he answered. "It had nothing to do with the kids. It's just…my presence is needed at a crime scene. Right away. In Far Rockaway. I don't have time to drop you off and then head up there."

"What happened?" she inquired, taking his hand and standing up. "Are you okay? Why are you….?"

"Three uniforms were shot responding to a domestic call," he told her. "Ambushed as they were coming up the front walk. They're dead. All of them."

"What?" she gasped and laid a hand over her mouth. "Oh my God…how?…when?"

"About half an hour ago. They need me there. You're going to have to come with me."

She nodded and took his hand. "Do we know their names or anything?" she asked, as they hurried down the path.

"I only know one of them so far. That's all that's been confirmed," he replied.

"Who was it? A rookie? A veteran? Who?"

"It was Jamie Angell. The youngest of Jess' four brothers."

She blanched "Does…does Jess know?"

"I don't know. I don't know much baby. Let's just…let's just get there and see what the hell went down. Okay?"

She nodded and placed a quivering hand over her mouth. Fighting to keep back her emotion.

Silently they exited the park and journeyed out onto the busy streets of New York City.

Streets that were now bleeding blue.

Thanks to everyone that is reading and reviewing! I appreciate all of your love and support! Even all of you lurkers! So please R and R folks! Makes my day! Hope you're all having a great weekend!

Special thanks to:

Hope4sall

26hannah26

Laplandgurl

HighQueenReicheru

muchmadness

wolfeylady

Forest Angel

Soccer-bitch