DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CSI:NY OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS. I DO HOWEVER OWN SAMANTHA FLACK AND KALLISON AND KELLAN FLACK
A/N: HUGE THANKS TO TWINKEYROCKS AND ILUVPETERPETRELLI. THE TWO LOVELY YOUNG LADIES AND FANTASTIC FRIENDS THE TWINS ARE BASED ON AND INSPIRED BY.
THANKS TO EVERYONE ADDING ME TO ALERTS AND FAVS!
ALSO, THE WEDDING POLL IS TIED! I NEED ONE MORE VOTE FOLKS! THAT VOTE DECIDES IT!
DUE TO POPULAR DEMAND, THIS IS A FUTURE CHAPTER
From the mouths of babes
"I can remember when you fit in the palm of my hand
Felt so good in it, no bigger than a minute
How it amazes me, you're changing with every blink
Faster than a flower blooms they grow up all too soon
So let them be little 'cause they're only that way for a while
Give them hope, give them praise, give them love every day
Let them cry, let them giggle, let them sleep in the middle
Oh just let them be little
I've never felt so much in one little tender touch
I live for those kisses, prayers and your wishes
Now that you're teaching me things only a child can see
Every night while we're on our knees all I ask is please
Let them be little 'cause they're only that way for a while
Give them hope, give them praise, give them love every day
Let them cry, let them giggle, let them sleep in the middle
Oh just let them be little."
-Let them be Little, Lonestar (co-written by Billy Dean)
Flack woke to the gentle shaking of his right arm and someone whispering in his ear. A tiny, soft voice that broke into his peaceful slumber. Before having kids, he'd been able to sleep through anything. Even Sam's snoring and incessant talking once he'd been sharing a bed with her long enough to get used to. She always joked that he'd been able to sleep through a tornado ripping through the room or a jet plane flying overhead. After the twins had been born and they'd been released after two weeks in the NICU still hooked up to apnea monitors, the smallest beep on the machines would have him bolting awake and tearing into the nursery to make sure that things were okay with his baby girls. While there had been times that there'd been short lapses in breathing and the monitors had alerted them to it, half the time the damn things were going off because one of the babies, in the process of moving in their sleep, somehow managed to knock loose the lead attached to the bottom of one impossibly small foot.
The man who'd once been called close to comatose while he slept, had quickly become an extremely light sleeper. He was the one that heard one, or both of the girls, squirming or whimpering in the next room when they were ready for the feeding or had wet diapers. Sam would still be snoring away while he was out in the kitchen warming up bottles or in the next room changing dirty asses. Not that he ever complained. Coming off of such a gruelling operation, never mind the quick and unexpected birth of the babies and the reality that you'd never, ever again carry a life inside of you, Sam had needed all the rest she could get. Taking extra time off of work had been a Godsend for Flack. He'd been able to spend those quiet, wee morning hours feeding his daughters and sitting with them in either the rocking chair in the bedroom or lying out on the couch with one, or both, fast asleep in his chest. Those moments had been precious. Minutes and hours and days that he'd never get back. Spending that time with them had been the best experience of his life. And had, in his opinion, made his bond with them closer than he ever imagined it could be.
"Daddy…" the voice again, accompanied by the insistent, firm shaking of his arm. "Daddy…wake up daddy…"
"Kellan…shake harder…" a second voice, identical to the first but speaking in a harsh whisper, demanded.
"Daddy!" Louder this time. The shaking more firm. "Wake up!"
His eyes snapped open and his head turned to the side. Finding himself face to face with Kellan. Her dark hair tumbling over her shoulders and framing her tiny face. Clad in a Strawberry Shortcake flannel nightgown that reached her ankles, her treasured Holly Hobby rag doll, a gift from Auntie Linds and Uncle Danny on her first birthday, clutched tightly under her arm. Holly went everywhere with her. Inside the house and out.
"Kellan?" he asked groggily. "What's going on?"
"It's Christmas, daddy," Kallison piped up. Clad in pyjamas that matched her sister's. A tattered and well loved yellow and pink and white striped blanket clasped tightly in her hand.
Flack was thankful that both he and Sam had had enough strength and energy left after two intense love making sessions -the first one downstairs, the second in the privacy of their own room behind a locked door - to put night clothes on and remember to actually unlock their door. Had the girls attempted to get in and found the door secure, they would have been out in the hallway screaming at the top of their lungs and pounding until one of their parents let them in. A lock had become a necessity after one too many incidences of one or both kids wandering in, half asleep, at inopportune times. So once their business was finished, the door was unlocked and left open a crack in case the girls needed them. The main argument, after all was said it done, was who was going to be the one to actually get out of bed and unlock the damn thing.
And of course, there was a couple times, in the heat of the moment, that no one had remembered to lock it in the first place.
"What time is it?" he asked, propping himself on his elbows to look at his daughters.
Kellan moved towards the nightstand by his head and with her free hand, turned the digital clock around to face her. "It's…four…two…two…" she told him, laying a finger on each number as she rattled them off.
He groaned loudly and flopped onto his back. "Go back to sleep girls," he said with a loud yawn.
"We can't sleep, daddy," Kallison responded, reaching under the heavy duvet to shake his leg.
"Well you both need to," he told her. "It's way too early to be getting up. Mommy and I are still sleeping."
"But it's Christmas," Kellan informed him, reaching out to run her fingers through his hair and commence playing with his ear. A habit she'd picked up at an early age. Whenever she was struggling to be put to sleep or to fall asleep on her own, her parents would always stroked her ears. And now, she'd moved on to doing the same for her mom and dad. It got annoying fast. But no matter how much they demanded she stopped, the harder she found it to give the practice up.
"Santa's been, daddy!" Kallison chirped. "All the milk and the cookies are gone!"
"You two didn't go downstairs into the basement did you?" he asked, narrowing his eyes at them.
Kellan shook her head vigorously, her hair swinging wildly. "You said not to, daddy. Or else we'd be in big trouble."
"Good," he said. "I'm glad you two did as you were told. Now go back to bed for a little while and when it's time to get up and open presents, I will come and get you."
"But daddy…" Kallison pouted as she struggled, with her tiny stature, to scramble up onto the bed, carefully crawling up to him and sitting cross legged between her parents. "It's Christmas!"
"Yeah, daddy," Kellan said, trying, in vain to get up onto the bed as well. "It's Christmas."
"It's still going to be Christmas in a couple of hours," Flack informed his daughters, sitting up to help his baby girl up onto the cherry wood sleigh bed. Made even taller by the pillow top Queen size mattress.
"Thanks, daddy," she chirped, waiting until he settled himself onto his back once more before she climbed over him to join her sister.
"You two need to go back to sleep," Flack told them sternly. "Just for a little bit. Lie down and close your eyes."
"But daddy…." Kallison whined.
"Lie down," he ordered. In a voice that meant he was all business.
"You don't have to go all police man on us, daddy," Kallison complained.
He couldn't help but smirk. His girls were obviously listening to their mother way too much. And converting everything that came out of Sam's mouth to memory.
"Lie down," he repeated, lifting the duvet to allow them to scoot underneath. "And watch your mommy. She's not feeling well and took some of her medicine and she needs her sleep."
Sam had taken a muscle relaxant and a sleeping pill the moment they'd finished their business. And had barely gotten her pyjamas on before passing out. Every night for two years she'd slept on a heating pad and tonight was no exception. Flack had remembered to plug it in before falling asleep himself. The warmth was a relief to her aches and pains. Although to him, sleeping beside her under those circumstances was like sleeping next to a furnace. He had tried, on several occasions, to sleep on the couch. But couldn't bring himself to spend a night without his wife.
"Poor mommy," Kellan said with a heavy, sad sigh, rolling over onto her side, facing her mother. She reached out and softly pushed hair behind Sam's ear and stroked her mom's forehead.
"Shhh…" Flack whispered. "Let her sleep. She'll feel better when she wakes up. Just leave her alone and let her sleep."
"Nite nite, mommy," Kellan pressed a kiss to Sam's forehead. "Sweet dreams."
"Kellan!" Flack reached over to tap her on the top of her head. "Quiet. Leave mommy alone."
"I was just kissing her goodnight," his daughter informed him, than rolled over onto her tummy.
"You kissed her goodnight when she tucked you in," he reminded her. "If you're going to sleep in here with me and mommy, you both need to be quiet. Got it?"
"You're da boss, applesauce," Kallison quipped.
Both girls dissolved into giggles.
Flack sighed heavily and placed a forearm over his eyes. Another damn saying they'd picked up from their mother.
"Daddy?" Kallison whispered, turning over onto her side to face him.
"What?" he asked. "What?"
"Can I have a drink?"
"Me, too," Kellan spoke up.
He removed his arm from over his eyes and looked at them. "Are you kidding me?" he asked.
"I'm thirsty, daddy," Kallison replied.
"I'm thirsty, too," Kellan said.
He knew it was a no win situation. If he refused to get them drinks, they'd start crying. And if he got mad at them for crying, they'd only cry even harder. He closed his eyes briefly, composing himself and summoning all the patience he possessed, than sat up and tossed the covers off of him.
"Thank you, daddy," they called in unison as he climbed out of bed and headed for the ensuite bathroom.
Flack flicked on the light and closed the door slightly so he didn't disturb anyone. Although the bathroom down the hall, done up in Winnie the Pooh, was technically the girls' bathroom, their parents still kept plastic tumblers in their own washroom for the nights the girls insisted on sleeping with them, and waking up several times for a drink. The cups sat on the counter top. Next to the toothbrush holder. Both tumblers were from the Disney store. Kellan's boasted pictures of Cinderella while Kallison's was Sleeping Beauty. And if you ever mixed them up and gave them the wrong one…than there was hell to pay.
He turned on the cold water and filled each glass half full. Shutting off the tap, he headed back out into the bedroom, carrying two cups in one hand as he reached out to flick off the bedroom light.
"My throat gets itchy," Kallison informed him, sitting up and accepting her drink.
"Mine, too," Kellan said, getting up as well and taking her cup.
"I think you both are full of it," Flack told them, yawning noisily as he waited for them to finish. "And don't stall. Just drink the stuff."
Once finished and the cups handed over, he placed the tumblers on the night stand and waited for the girls to settle down once more, using Holly Hobby as a pillow, before climbing back into bed himself. He yawned noisily, and rolling onto his side facing them, draped a loose arm over his two girls. "Now go to sleep," he ordered.
"For how long?" Kellan asked.
"For as long as I say. When it's time to get up, I will let you know."
The girls both sighed heavily and nestled their heads into Holly Hobby. Their noses nearly touching.
"Daddy?" Kallison whispered a minute later, breaking the silence.
God give me strength, Flack thought. "Yes?" he asked through gritted teeth.
"Merry Christmas," she chirped. "I love you."
"Merry Christmas, Kallison," he said, a bright smile stretching across his face.
"Merry Christmas, daddy," Kellan chirped. "I love you, too."
"Merry Christmas," he returned. "I love you. Both of you. Now go to sleep before I call Santa and tell him to take all your stuff back."
They quieted down once more. A content, peaceful warmth falling over the room and resting on the occupants of that crowded bed. Flack found himself easily, and quickly, drifting back to sleep once more. He was unsure how long he'd actually been out for when he felt the girls move underneath his arm and the sensation of someone touching his face. More specifically, someone prying one of his eyelids open.
"Daddy?" Kellan whispered. "Is it time to get up yet?"
"Go to sleep," he mumbled.
"We were sleeping," Kallison informed him.
"What does the clock say?" he asked.
Kellan sat up and leaned over him. "Five…one…six…"
"Go to sleep," he repeated forcibly, gently pushing the tiny fingers off his eyes.
"But daddy…" Kellan whined. "I gotta go pee."
"So do I," Kallison announced.
"You know what…" he nearly snapped on them as he bolted into a sitting position. "Both of you out of the bed and to the bathroom. Now. And when you get back, I want you to both lie down and I don't want to hear another peep out of either of you for at least two hours. Three would be even better. Got it?"
He climbed out of bed once more and helped them both down. Trying hard to ignore the massive pouts on their faces. Already feeling like a shit enough for nearly yelling at them.
"Why do you have to use a harsh voice, daddy?" Kellan asked.
"Yeah…" Kallison said. "You don't have to be so mad at us."
"I am not mad," he told them, sitting down on the bed, watching as they padded off towards the bathroom. "Just go pee and get back here. Please."
"That's better," Kellan huffed and they both disappeared into the washroom.
Flack shook his head and rubbed at the back of his neck and yawned noisily as he took a seat on the edge of the bed and waited for his daughters to return. And waited for one of them to start calling for assistance washing their hands. One thing their parents didn't keep in their bathroom, was the step stools in the smaller washroom that the girls used in order to reach the sink so they could wash their hands and brush their teeth.
Behind him, Samantha switched positions in her sleep. The covers rustling around her body. She murmured quietly and he reached behind him in order to lay a hand on her shoulder or back and rub it softly until she fell back asleep. Instead, he felt her catch his hand in hers and entwine her fingers with his.
"Very impressive daddy skills, detective," she said in a sleepy voice. "Well, up until that last part, anyway."
Frowning, he glanced over his shoulder. "Didn't you take a sleeping pill?" he asked. "Shouldn't you be out cold?"
"I only took the muscle relaxants," she replied.
"Have you been awake all this time listening to me?"
She nodded.
"You. Bitch," he hissed. Than winked at her.
She giggled. "That's not at all Christmasey honey," she complained. "Calling me names. Especially after those incredible gifts I gave you earlier."
He just grinned. Turning sideways on the bed, he leaned over and kissed her softly. "Merry Christmas, baby," he said, kissing the tip of her nose.
"Merry Christmas," she said, giving a sleepy smile.
"Daddy!" Kellan cried from the bathroom. "I can't reach the sink to wash my hands!"
"Me either!" Kallison called.
He sighed and glanced at the clock. "It's barely past five thirty," he complained.
"Going to be a long day," Sam said.
Flack nodded.
She brought his hand to her lips and kissed it. "You take care of them and I'll get up and make you some coffee and start some breakfast."
"I always do Christmas breakfast and you know it."
"Than you take care of them and I'll make some tea for myself and some coffee for you and than you can whip us up a batch of Detective Sargent Flack's famous banana pancakes."
"With chocolate chips," he added. "Something new this year."
"You're a Godsend," she declared.
He smiled and kissed her once more. Long and soft. The fingers on one hand buried in her dark locks. Her hand on the side of his face. "I say we drug the kids and send them back to bed," he said, lips against her forehead.
"As much as I would love to say that's a great idea…."
"Daddy!" Kallison bellowed. "We need to wash our hands! Get all the germs and pee-pee off!"
"Make that coffee extra strong," Flack said to his wife, pecking her forehead before climbing out of bed and heading to attend to his daughters.
Sam smiled and carefully rolled over onto her back. Listening to the three most important people in her life talking in the next room. The girls in their tiny, angelic voices and her husband in his deep voice and his Queens accent.
Life wasn't perfect. But they had each other.
It was going to be a wonderful Christmas.
It had taken over a month to purchase all of the Christmas presents. Three hours to wrap everything and another two to put the things together that were too big to be covered with wrapping party. It would take months, if not the better part of a year, to pay off what was put on the credit cards.
But it had taken less than twenty minutes to turn the family room into a complete disaster area. Bows and wrapping paper littered the floor and every available surface. Toys had already been taken out of their respective boxes and assembled. There was no clear spot to walk on the family room floor. Even Wiener had been 'snowed in' by the debris. The only sign that he was around was the occasional movement of paper or his tail sticking out as he played underneath the refuse.
While the girls played with their Barbie doll houses and the assortment of dolls that Santa had brought along as well, mom and dad lounged on the couch with a couple of hot drinks and a chocolate from Sam's stocking and watched and listened to their girls playing together side by side with little or no fighting. They had been ecstatic with every toy that they had opened. Squealing with delight and their blue eyes sparkling and huge, dimply smiles spreading across their faces as they declared that each item was exactly what they had wanted. They had sat on the floor, back to back, and opened their gifts. A trick their parents had learned from a support group for parents with multiples. Because the girls always asked for the same things, sitting them back to back guaranteed that if one opened the present faster, they wouldn't ruin the surprise for their twin.
But the greatest moment, by far, was when Kellan and Kallison had bounded down into the basement after breakfast and had stopped dead in their tracks at the bottom of the stairs. In complete awe and wonderment at the amount of brightly wrapped presents. But totally enthralled and taken back by, the identical doll houses that waited for them. Both had given ear piercing shrieks and grabbed each others hands and jumped up and down and in circles at the sheer thrill of it. And both had sobbed, out of pure happiness, as they clung to their daddy's legs and told him it was the best Christmas ever.
"That damn dog is a pain in the ass," Flack complained, as a loud sneeze, of canine persuasion, erupted from under the mounds of paper. A flurry of activity ensued. That tip of his tail the only thing visible as Wiener chased a treat amongst all the mess.
"You love him," Sam declared. "Wiener the Wiener dog. Your life would be empty without him. Admit it."
Flack just snorted.
"I can't believe you left him out," she complained, pouting dramatically, as she held on tight to the small black velvet box that was home to the family ring that she had wanted for five years and her husband had finally gotten off his ass to buy. A thick white gold band with channel set stones. Sapphire, garnet, diamond and than another sapphire. The names of each holder of said birthstones engraved on the inside of the band.
"I was not going to put a dog's birthstone on a family ring," Flack informed her, his arm wrapped loosely around her torso as she sat between his legs, back against his chest. The same way they'd sat the night before.
"Why not? He is our family. He's our baby."
Flack rolled his eyes and kissed her temple. "He's a dog, Sammie. He's just the family pet. Human babies take precedence over four legged ones."
"I know that," she said. "But he is a Flack, you know. That's what the vet has written on his chart. Sex, male. Name, Wiener Flack."
"That is just not right," her husband grumbled. "And I never should have let the girls name him that. You know what that sounds like? When you're standing on the back porch calling him in at night after he's taken a shit? Wiener! Come here, Wiener! Do you know how humiliating that is?"
Sam tilted her head back and grinned up at him. "You're a wiener," she said.
He frowned and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "You have a good Christmas morning, baby?" he asked, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear and stroking her cheek with his knuckles. Blue eyes never leaving golden ones.
She smiled softly and nodded. "I'm certainly not complaining. You spoiled me. As usual."
Although the majority of her presents, despite the ring and two pairs of slippers from the girls and a Royal Daulton figurine bearing the name Samantha, had been gift cards for Bloomingdale's and JC Penney, her husband had gone to the trouble of sealing them in large boxes and stuffing them full of tissue before wrapping them and putting bows and ribbons on them. So she'd have the joy of having things to open. The ring box, he'd tucked into one of the branches on the tree, next to the ornament he'd bought for their first Christmas together. And than had made her go on a search through the tree, with the girls giggling because they knew daddy's secret, for her extra special present.
"I like to spoil you," Flack told her, nuzzling her cheek and ear with his nose. "Maybe I think you deserve nice things."
"You've always given me nice things," she said with a smile, hugging his arm to her. "But nothing can beat the best two gifts you'd ever given me."
"What are those?" he asked, pecking her cheek. "Your engagement ring and anniversary band?"
"Well those are incredible," she replied, holding up her left hand to admire the white gold three stone engagement ring - a large princess cut diamond in the middle, flanked on either side by triangular diamonds- and the band of channel side diamonds that sat on top of a thick, simple white gold wedding ring that matched his nearly three inch thick band. "But I was thinking more along the lines of the precious, beautiful baby girls you gave me."
"I didn't exactly give them to you," he said. "I just had a small part in making them."
"I wouldn't exactly call it a small part," Sam giggled.
He grinned and pressed his lips against her ear. "You're still a dirty girl, Tinks. Even after eight years."
"I can't help but pay it and you a compliment," she said. "And if I do remember correctly, you put a lot of hard work and sweat into the night they were conceived."
"Nothing that fun and enjoyable can be considered work," he told her. "And that night…that night's definitely gone down in history for the number of times we've…"
"Daddy!" Kellan called. "Can you help us with something?"
"What kind of something?" he asked.
"We want to take off Barbie's clothes and Ken's clothes and put them to bed," his daughter answered nonchalantly.
Sam nearly spit out an entire mouthful of tea. "Why would you want to do that?" she inquired.
"'Cause that's how mommies and daddies sleep," Kellan informed her. As if it was the only obvious answer in the world. "With no clothes on."
"Mommies and daddies wear pyjamas to bed," Sam said.
"Uh-uh," Kellan argued, shaking her head adamantly. "Not all mommies and daddies."
"Well daddy and I wear clothes to bed," Sam told her.
"Yeah but Uncle Danny and Aunt Linds don't," Kellan said. "I saw them. When we sleep over there the last time. I saw them with no clothes on in bed."
Flack's eyes widened. "You what now?" he asked.
"I saw it, too," Kallison piped up. "When we went to ask for a drink. They had no clothes on."
"And were they sleeping?" Sam asked curiously.
"They weren't sleeping," Kellan replied. "Uncle Danny was lying on Aunt Linds and she was giggling and he was whispering in her ear."
"He was what and the what?" Flack nearly shouted, horrified.
Sam squeezed his forearm as a sign to calm down. "And what happened after that?" she asked their daughters. "Did Aunt Lindsay say anything or…"
"Auntie Linds looked at us and said 'oh shit' and pushed Uncle Danny off of her," Kellan told her, not seeing the big deal, her attention focused on brushing Rapunzel Barbie's flowing locks.
"And than Uncle Danny fell off the bed!" Kallison exclaimed.
"And he smacked onto the floor really hard!" Kellan cried.
Both girls erupted into laughter at memory.
"And?" Flack pressed, struggling to keep his temper in cheek. "What happened?"
"And than Auntie Linds told us to go wait out in the hall and than Uncle Danny came out and he got us our water and made us go back to bed," Kallison responded.
"And he had clothes on," added Kellan. "I think him and Auntie Linds were having a tickle fight like you and mommy do sometimes, daddy. Remember? That time a long, long time ago when I came in to sleep with you guys and mommy was giggling and you were hiding under the blankets?"
"Okay…." Sam said, coughing noisily and untangling herself from her husband's embrace and standing up. "On that happy little note, I think it's time we start cleaning this place up."
"But mommy…." Kallison whined. "We were just playing."
"And you can keep playing once the mess is cleaned up," Sam assured her. "But it's getting late and we still have to get ready to go to grandma and grandpa's."
"But what about all of our toys?" Kellan asked.
"All of your toys will still be here when we get home. And tomorrow's another day and you can play with them all day long if you want. Okay?"
Both girls sighed heavily.
"Either that or daddy can call Santa and tell him to take everything back to the North Pole and give them out to little girls and boys that help clean up messes and don't give their mommies and daddies a hard time."
"Daddy wouldn't do that," Kallison declared.
"Listen to your mom," Flack told his girls as he stood up and stretched and yawned noisily.
"Go into the laundry room and grab me two big green garbage bags," Sam instructed her daughters.
They scampered off, their hair swaying across their backs.
"Nice," Flack grumbled as he began gathering up armfuls of wrapping paper. "Now our kids have seen not only us, but Danny and Lindsay having sex."
"It's not like they know, Don," Sam told him. "I mean, they didn't know when they walked in on us what oral sex was. So they certainly didn't know that they walked in on their aunt and uncle getting busy."
"That's not the point," he said. "The point is that they shouldn't be subjected to seeing things like that."
"Don, you heard Kellan. She thinks we were having a tickle fight for crying out loud. No harm, no foul."
"Could screw her up for the rest of her life. Make her want to have sex at a really young age or something."
Sam laughed. "Are you listening to yourself? That's ridiculous. She doesn't know the first thing about sex. You need to chill out a bit."
"How can I chill out? My baby girl just talked about walking in on us and her aunt and uncle getting it on. Separately, of course. Because man, the four of us? That's even too kinky for me."
"She doesn't know," Sam insisted. "She has no clue what mommies and daddies are doing in their beds with no clothes on. And she doesn't need to know. You talking about it over and over again? She's going to hear it and wonder what the big deal is. And than you're going to have to explain to her what the real deal is."
He physically shuddered at the thought.
"What are you going to do when she's old enough to date and bringing boys home and we're catching them making out down here?"
"Are you insane? Neither of them girls are dating until they're thirty. And even than I'm going to be waiting up, sitting on the front porch with a shot gun in my lap. And if some moron guy even touches a hair on their heads inappropriately…"
"Relax, honey," she rubbed his arm affectionately. "There's many years ahead before they are into that sort of thing. First you have to deal with periods and training bras. And not in that exact order either."
"Did you really have to, Sammie? Bring up bras and menstrual cycles when talking about my baby girls?"
"Your baby girls will grow up into young women, Donnie. Sorry to ruin that little fantasy of yours that has them five years old and madly in love with their daddy for the rest of their lives."
He sighed heavily. "I'm just not ready to think about stuff like that, babe."
"And what are you ready to think about?" she asked.
He shrugged, than smiled as his girls came running out of the laundry room trailing green garbage bags behind them. "I'm ready to think about making snow angels with them and having snow ball fights and going tobogganing and building a snow fort and snow men with them. That's the kind of thing I'm ready to think about," he said, running a hand over Kallison's hair as she stood in front of him and leaned her back against his legs and looked up at him. "Nothing long term, right baby girl?"
"Right, daddy," she agreed, than giggled when he leaned down to give her an Eskimo kiss.
"Well you know what I'm thinking about?" Sam asked, her hands on her hips as she surveyed the disaster before her. "Getting this mess cleaned up and than soaking in steaming bubble bath."
"You gonna need some help with that?" he asked with a grin, checking out his wife's ass as she bent down to begin cleaning up the mess. The t-shirt of her Care Bear pyjamas lifting up to reveal the massive tattoo that covered her lower back and spread from hip to hip. "'Cause I can pour the bubbles. And I'm pretty good scrubbing backs too."
She looked over her shoulder and grinned at him. "We'll see about that Mister Flack," she said.
"Daddy?" Kallison asked, looking up at him once again. "Is mommy your wife?"
"Yep," he replied. "She's my wife and I'm her husband. And I'm yours and Kellan's daddy. Why?"
"Well if you and mommy are married, that means that you have a crush on mommy, right?"
Sam looked over her shoulder once more, a grin on her face as she waited to hear his response.
"A big time crush," he said, and winked at his wife.
"And that means mommy has a crush on you, right?"
Flack looked pointedly at his wife.
"A massive crush," Sam told her. "I think I'll keep your daddy around. What do you think? Should we keep him?" she asked.
Kallison beamed and nodded. "Forever and ever," she replied.
Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer was on television. For what seemed like the hundredth time since the first of December hit. While Sam tended to Kallison in the girls' bathroom, Flack sat on the edge of his queen sized bed, in a pair of black Dockers and a simple blue dress shirt, as Rudolph was being persecuted for being different on the plasma tv mounted on a shelf on the wall at the far end of the room. The holiday classic had been a favourite of his when he was a kid. And it appeared as if one of his children had picked up on it as well.
Kellan stood in between his legs. Sipping on a fruit punch drinking box, her eyes riveted on the program. She'd seen it at least a dozen times. If not more. She could sing along to the different songs and knew a handful of lines. The show never got boring and she always asked if she could watch it when it caught her eye while her parents were flipping channels. Already dressed in a black crushed velvet dress with a red satin sash around her waist, black leggings and black patent leather dress shoes, she was biding her time while her father brushed out her waist length hair.
"Those other reindeer are mean," she announced in disgust. "Why are they so mean to Rudy, daddy?"
"Because some people are mean to anyone who is different," Flack told her, slowly dragging the paddle brush through his daughter's hair.
"How come?" she asked.
"Because they're scared of anything or anyone that is different," he told her. "Because they don't love themselves very much and they're not happy and they want to make everyone else unhappy too."
"That's stupid," Kellan declared.
"That's not a nice word," Flack told her, setting the brush on the bed and picking up a comb. "What did mommy and I tell you about calling things or people stupid?" he asked.
"That it's not nice," she replied. "And not to do it."
"Exactly," he said. "So what do you say?"
"Sorry, daddy."
"Good girl," he praised and kissed her cheek. He used the comb to separate Kellan's hair into two sections. "Are you sure you want pig tails?" he asked.
She nodded. "Braided pig tails," she clarified. "You do the bestest braided pig tails daddy."
"Hold this one than," he said, draping one section over her shoulder.
He combed out the second one than broke it into three equal pieces and expertly and efficiently, set to tightly braiding his daughter's hair. He had never dreamed, as a single guy hitting the bars and subsequently hitting on anything that looked remotely interested in him, that one day he'd be styling his little girls hair. First, he had never dreamed in a million years that he'd ever get married or have kids. Second, hair dressing was never something he'd ever admit to in a million years.
But when your wife suffered one of her horrifically painful, near crippling days, you learned things right quick and did things you'd always dumped on her. Making lunches, taking the kids to swimming lessons, doing umpteen loads of laundry and being a parent chaperon on field trips to Coney Island or the Museum of Natural Art and History of the art gallery. Had he not been as patient and understanding as he was, there would have been many a time his family would have simply fallen apart.
Not that he expected some kind of praise or an award. Because in reality, he enjoyed being domesticated. He enjoyed being a husband and a father.
He secured the first braid at the top with a Hello Kitty bauble and at the bottom with a simple elastic before moving on to the second section of hair. He took his time. Making sure the braid was tight and that it lined up perfectly with the one on the opposite side of Kellan's head.
"Daddy?" Kellan asked in a tiny voice.
"What, baby?"
"This part makes me feel sad."
"Why's it make you feel sad, baby girl?"
"It's the Island of the Misfit Toys," she cried. "All the toys that no one wants! That's not fair! That's not right that all those toys don't have homes or mommies and daddies."
"It's just a movie, Kellan," Flack told her gently, finishing with the second pig tail.
"But it's not fair! It's like that in real life, too! Lots of boys and girls that have no mommies and daddies or homes to go to or toys to play with."
"Don't worry about stuff like that, okay? That's not for little girls to worry about."
"And what about all the bad guys?" she asked, sniffling noisily, tears spilling down her cheeks. She was just like her mother. Overly sensitive. "There's lots of bad guys out there, daddy!"
"And there's lots of good people out there catching the bad guys," he told her, laying his hands on her shoulders and gently turning her around to face him. "You don't need to worry about stuff like this, alright? There's lots of people dealing with the bad guys."
"Will the bad guys come here, daddy? Will they come and hurt me and Kallison? And you and mommy? Will they hurt Wiener?"
"No one is coming to come here and hurt anyone," he promised, and holding her tiny face in his hands, cleared her tears away with his thumbs. "You don't have to worry about stuff like that, okay? Daddy will protect you and Kallison and your mommy."
"And Wiener, too?" she asked.
"And Wiener, too," he replied. "Although he's pretty tough. He may be tiny, but he's tough guy. He'd be able to scare the bad guys away. Bite them in the ankles."
Kellan giggled at that.
"I love you, baby girl," he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "And I don't want you thinking about stuff like that, okay?"
"Okay, daddy," she sniffled. "But it's still not nice that those other reindeer were mean to Rudy."
"No, it's not," he agreed. "But you know to be nice to other kids, right? Even the ones that seem different?"
She nodded.
"Good," he said and kissed her cheek. "Now let's go and sneak some of them gingerbread cookies mommy's taking to grandma and grandpa's. Sound good?"
Kellan nodded and took her dad's hand as he stood up and led the way from the bedroom.
They headed downstairs and into the kitchen. Where Flack poured them glasses of milk and quietly and sneakily, peeled the lid back on the Tupperware container holding the baked goods that Sam had made and planned on taking alone, and scooped up two Gingerbread men.
"Our little secret," he whispered to Kellan, carrying them to the table where she was kneeling on her regular chair.
"Shhh…" she said with a giggle, a finger over her lips.
He sat down in the chair beside her, listening to her chatter on about all of the toys that Santa had brought while they dug into their cookies and sipped their milk. Kellan had just finished her cookie when the doorbell sounded throughout the entire house. Flack frowned. The last thing they were expecting on Christmas Day was company. Wiener, crunching noisily on his bowl of kibble by the sliding door, jumped a country mile at the sudden noise, than began barking noisily and running in circles before tearing out of the kitchen and to the front door.
He left Kellan in the kitchen. Giving her a colouring book and some crayons that they kept in the bottom cupboard near the fridge to keep her busy while he headed to see who the unexpected visitor was on his door step.
"Daddy!" Kallison bellowed from the top of the stairs. "Auntie Mel is here!"
What in the hell, Flack thought, as he headed into the small front foyer and unlocked the dead bolt on the heavy wooden door. His younger sister Melanie, with her problems with alcohol and the fact she couldn't keep herself looking half decent let alone a steady job, wasn't exactly a welcome face in their home. She never sent cards on the kids' birthdays and had to be guilted into a simple phone call by her parents. And when she did show up, her visits were often late at night when she was fall down drunk and ranting and raving about her shitty, goddamn life. She terrified the girls and Flack didn't want someone like that around them. Blood ties or no blood ties.
He pulled open the door and shook his head in disgust at the sight in front of him. His sister in an impossibly short skirt, thigh high brown leather boots and a skimpy black suede jacket that barely came to her waist. Her hair soaking wet. The loose strands at the sides of her face nearly frozen.
"Melanie, what the hell are you doing here?" he asked.
"Well Merry Christmas to you, too, Donnie," she snorted. "Are you going to let me in or let me freeze my ass off out here?"
"What do you want?" he repeated.
"I need a ride to mom and dad's."
"Call a cab. It'll cost you twenty bucks."
"I don't have any money. Come on…don't be a jerk and let me in."
"You live in lower Manhattan, Mel. How come you found your way here and you couldn't just skip past my place and go on to mom and dad's?"
"Maybe I wanted to see my nieces ahead of time," she reasoned.
"Sure you did…" Flack said. "How'd you get here, Mel?"
"A friend dropped me off."
"A friend?" he asked. "What kind of friend? Boyfriend? Girlfriend? Pimp?"
"I don't…"
"Don't deny it. I know what you've been up to. You don't think other cops come back to me when they see your name and tell me everything you're up too."
"Come on, Donnie," she implored, shivering. "I don't need a lecture, alright? I just need to get warm. Please? Don't leave me standing out here."
"Don?" Sam's voice from behind him. He felt her hand on his back as came alongside of him. "Whose at the…" she paused at the sight of the woman on her porch. "…door," she finished with a frown.
Melanie offered a phony smile and a finger wave. She couldn't stand her brother's wife. And the feelings were mutual.
"I'm going to check on the girls," Sam said, and left brother and sister standing there staring at each other.
Melanie snorted. "She's still such a peach, huh Donnie?"
"Get the fuck off my porch," Flack snapped, and shut the door in her face.
Okay, I left Flack's sis' name Melanie. Which was suppose to be her name until TPTB decided to change it to Sam. After all, we all know who the real Sam Flack is.....
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