DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CSI:NY OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS. I DO HOWEVER OWN SAMANTHA FLACK AND KELLAN AND KALLISON FLACK. AND WIENER THE WIENER DOG.
A/N: THIS IS A FUTURE CHAPTER.
SPECIAL THANKS TO ALL OF THOSE ADDING ME TO ALERTS AND FAVS!
Decisions and best of intentions
"Maybe I didn't love you quite as good as I should have,
Maybe I didn't hold you quite as often as I could have,
Little things I should have said and done, I just never took the time.
You were always on my mind, You were always on my mind.
Maybe I didn't hold you all those lonely, lonely times,
And I guess I never told you, I'm so happy that you're mine,
If I made you feel second best, I'm sorry, I was blind.
You were always on my mind,
You were always on my mind,
Tell me, tell me that your sweet love hasn't died,
Give me, give me one more chance to keep you satisfied,
If I made you feel second best, I'm sorry, I was blind.
You were always on my mind, You were always on my mind."
-Always on my Mind, Elvis Presley (or Willie Nelson or many other artists)
"Merry Christmas, gwampa," Kellan gushed, as she wrapped an arm around her grandfather's neck and nuzzled her tiny nose against his clean shaven cheek.
"Me, too gwampa!" Kallison exclaimed, curling an arm around him as well and kissing him noisily on the lips.
"Merry Christmas, my angels," he returned, pressing his lips to each of their cherubic faces. His heart filled with so much pure, unabashed pride and love for the two little girls clasped tightly in his embrace.
Although he was a grandfather four times over to the three boys and a girl that his youngest son Chris had managed to bring into the world with his wife -those kids were the only damn things that boy did right his whole entire life- Flack Sr's heart and soul belonged to Kellan and Kallison. There was nothing he wouldn't do for them, or their mother, who had taken his son and transformed him into the man that his father and mother always knew he had the promise to be. At the end of the day, it didn't matter how many collars Don Flack Jr had under his belt or how quick he climbed the NYPD ladder.
What really mattered was the kind of person he was behind the scenes. How he treated his wife and his kids. How he lived his life. And within the last eight years, there'd been a change in Donald and Patricia Flack's oldest son. He'd matured and slipped easily and almost effortlessly into a life as a husband and a father. He adored his young family and would walk through the fires of hell for them. His love and his respect for his wife was written all over his face. It was in the way he smiled at her or touched the small of her back or kissed her cheek softly. The way that his eyes lit up when she simply stepped in the room. The way the pride was evident in his voice whenever he spoke of her.
And it was something that went both ways. Samantha had just as easily fallen in love with their boy as she had captured his heart. Her feelings and emotions laid bare for all to see. Written all over her face and evident in her eyes every time she looked at him. In the way she watched him intently whenever he spoke and the way she touched him in small, gentle ways. The way her eyes sparkled with love and adoration when he teased her good naturedly. The respect and pride that shone so strong and bright when she spoke of his achievements both on the job and in his personal life.
They loved each other. A love born out of a friendship many years before. That friendship had flourished for a year before becoming something so powerful and all consuming. Something neither of them had ever experienced nor regretted. It had made their bond stronger and tighter. It made them better lovers and better spouses and ultimately, better parents to their children. They had grown together for the past eight years and continued to grow and learn together each and every day.
Sure, there were tough times. Too many to mention, in fact. But in the end they'd come out of it slightly emotionally scarred and wounded, but better for it. Through difficult, trying times they'd learned to never take each other for granted. That things could be ripped away in a heartbeat. That things were here today and gone tomorrow and there were no second chances. No way of taking things back after they'd been said and the person was no longer around to apologize to. They'd almost lost each other. A wife had almost been a widow. And that experience had rocked them both and opened their eyes to how precious their lives together were.
And how precious, and near miraculous, the lives they had created together were.
Two beautiful little girls clinging to their grandfather's neck and fighting for his attention as they excitedly told him about all of the things that Santa Claus had brought them.
"Well Santa came to grandma and grandpa's last night, too," Flack Sr told them. "Grandma and I woke up this morning and there were so many presents under the tree we couldn't even get into the living room! It's a sea of gifts in there! And do you know who most of them belong to? Whose names I found on almost all the tags?"
The little girls shook their heads.
"Do either of you know a Kallison or a Kellan Flack?" he asked curiously. "I've never heard those two names before. I wonder who those two are. Have you ever heard of them?"
"Gwampa!" Kallison exclaimed. "Don't be silly!"
"So you do know them?"
"It's us gwampa!" Kellan cried with a musical giggle. "We're Kellan and Kallison Flack. You know dat!"
"You're right!" he said with a dramatic gasp. "Your grandpa must be getting old. He's forgetting a lot of things lately."
"That's because grandpa's nearly as old as Santa," Flack said from the back of the SUV as he gathered the garbage bag of presents and the duffel bags.
"So says the thirty-eight year old with more grey hair then me," his father snorted. "So what do you think girls? You want to go inside and see grandma and check out what Santa left here for you two?"
The both nodded.
"Grandma will make you two some hot chocolate with whipped cream," he promised, sitting them both down on the snow.
"With cinnamon and chocolate sprinkles?" Kallison asked hopefully, blue eyes twinkling.
"I think grandma bought extra cinnamon and sprinkles just for the two of you," he replied. "Now go on," he said, laying a hand on their heads and gently pushing them in the direction of the house. "Go in and see grandma while I help out your mom and dad. Okay?"
"Come on Kellan!" Kallison cried, grabbing her sister by the hand and yanking her towards the house.
"No opening anything until we are all there!" Sam called to them, reaching into the back seat of the SUV to open up the small pet crate Wiener had been carted over in.
Taking the small animal, clad in a pair of red boots and a white and red knit sweater, out of his container, she set him down gently in the snow. The white powder gave way underneath him and he sank nearly up to his knees, but that didn't stop him from barrelling towards the twins.
Hand in hand, the giggling, chattering girls hurried through the snow and up the front steps. Stomping their boots off on the porch before being ushered into the house by their waiting grandmother. Wiener scampering close behind.
"Damn mutt dresses better then most humans," Flack Sr declared.
"Costs more then most humans too," his son said with a sigh.
"But he doesn't mouth off or leave socks and underwear lying all over the place or forget to put the toilet seat down," Sam spoke up. "So in essence, he's invaluable."
"Be nice to me," Flack said to her, before kissing her softly.
"Never," she giggled and touched his face gently.
"See you're still keeping him on his toes," Senior commented, kissing both her cheeks before drawing his petite daughter in law into his arms.
"I try my best," she said, returning the embrace. "How are you, dad? Merry Christmas.""
"And to you. And I'm much better now that my three favourite girls are here safe and sound," he declared. He held her out at arms length. "You?" he asked. "You're doing okay?"
She nodded and smiled. "Good days and bad days," she replied. "Thankfully there's been a lot of good ones lately."
"Always nice to hear. You know how Pat and I worry about you all the time."
"How about extending some of that concern this way and helping me out," Flack suggested, his hands loaded down with bags.
"You're half my age," his father reminded him.
"Nice try, dad. You're not even sixty yet."
"I feel eighty most days," Senior complained.
"Join the goddamn club and quit your bitching," Flack said. "How has mom put up with you for so long?"
"I ask the same thing about your beautiful young wife every day," the older man responded. "I guess the ladies have a soft spot for guys with the last name Flack."
"It's the blue eyes," Sam declared, and picked up the girls' small Dora the Explorer wheelie suitcases they'd been given for Christmas. "I'm going to go in and get myself some of that hot chocolate, too."
"You do that, doll face," her father in law said. "I even went to Target yesterday and got you an extra special treat."
"You went to Target on Christmas Eve just for me?" she laughed, walking backwards towards the house. "It must be love."
"True love," he chuckled. "Anything for you and you know that. I braved the cold and snow and the sheer insanity to pick up some of them fudge dipped, mint Oreo cookies you're always going on about."
"Have I ever told you how much I love you, dad?" she asked. "You know, if I wasn't already married to one Flack…"
"We can always say to hell with Junior and blow this pop stand," her father in law teased, winking at her playfully.
Samantha laughed. "Don't tempt me," she said, and turned towards the house and headed up the stairs. Greeted by a warm hug from her mother in law before she even managed to get in the door.
"Quit flirting with my wife and threatening to run away with her," Flack told his father. "One day she just might take you up on it. Trade the young in for the old."
"And the more experienced," Senior chided and stepped to the back of the SUV and reached up to slam the rear door closed.
His son rolled his eyes.
"Merry Christmas, Donnie," his father said, clapping a hand on his son's shoulder.
"Merry Christmas, dad."
"Your brother call you?"
"This morning. Long enough to wish us a Merry Christmas and that was it. You know we're not exactly on speaking terms after what he did to Sam."
"Drunken bastard," his father muttered. "Should have hung him up by his balls in the middle of Time Square. Where's your sister?" he asked. "Thought your mom said she was tagging along."
"She was. Until her and Sam got into an argument in the car and I dropped Melanie off at the gas station two blocks away. I just couldn't deal with her shit. She had the girls scared to death and in tears. I don't need that shit. Especially on Christmas day. Things are going okay with you?"
"Most days," he replied and held out a hand in an invitation to take some of the backs. "Doctor says that the arthritis is getting worse and my eyesight is going down the shitter. But other then that, the old guy is still kicking. Much to your mother's dismay."
"What about those tests you were going for a couple of days ago?" Flack asked, handing his father a couple of the lighter bags before using the remote locking mechanism on his key chain to secure the doors of the SUV.
"Didn't end up going," his dad replied, as they headed side by side up the neatly shovelled driveway.
"Why not?" Flack asked. Trying to keep the concern out his voice.
The last thing his dad wanted was people worrying about him. He shrugged off any and all suggestions or advice when it came to his rapidly failing health. The cancer in the prostate had been caught in time over three years ago. He'd needed minimal chemo and radiation and spent less then a month in the hospital. But since then, more and more little things had begun to afflict him. Dizzy spells, shortness of breath, poor eyesight and unexplained weight loss. His father had always been a big man. Tall and intimidating. Six foot two and carrying over two hundred pounds since he was nineteen years old. Now, at fifty-seven, he was deteriorating rapidly.
"Because I didn't feel like going," Senior replied. "Do I need any other reason then that?"
"Mom's worried about you dad," Flack said. "Don't you think you owe it to her to get yourself looked after?"
"Your mother has more important things to worry about then me," he responded.
"You're her husband. I think she feels you are the most important thing."
"Well she shouldn't," his father grumbled.
"Dad, I'm just saying that…"
"I know what you're saying and I'm saying that I didn't feel like going. Drop it, son."
Flack sighed heavily and relegated himself to the fact that nothing was ever simple with his father. The old man just could not accept that his wife and his kids were genuinely concerned about him. Flack wondered if maybe it was his father's way of paying penance for all the wrongs he'd committed against his wife and children in his younger years. If he felt he didn't deserve that kind of care and concern because of what a bastard he'd been to them all.
"How's things with you?" Senior asked, changing the subject. "Things are good?"
Flack shrugged. "Things are alright, I guess. I've got a monster case load and no end in sight. Faces coming and going on a regular basis it seems. You just got used to a bunch of guys and they're being shipped off to other precincts or even to other boroughs. And you're given this bullshit that they're just not homicide material."
"Bureaucratic bullshit is what that is," his father snorted. "All them cut backs going on around the department. Seems to rear it's damn ugly head every eight to ten years. No escaping it unfortunately. What's it mean for you?"
"Lots of overtime," his son sighed. "Double and triple. Which is just costing the department more money, but who am I? Can't tell the number crunchers how to run the place."
"Well as long as it doesn't hit home, it's all good."
"That's the problem, dad. It has hit home."
Senior paused at the bottom step. "What do you mean?"
"Sam's being let go from the crime lab. January thirty-first is her last day."
His father frowned. "How long have you know this for?"
"About a month now. We haven't told anyone. Not even our closest friends know. Mac Taylor hauled her into his office and told her that the department was cutting back and she was the first name that crossed his desk. Because of all the time she's missed being off sick."
"Girl can't help being ill. She didn't ask to get something like that. It just happened."
"He said that the department would rather be paying her for actually doing work and not being stuck at home in bed."
"Taylor actually said that?"
Flack nodded. "He's nothing if not blunt. She's going to take a pay out on her pension and a severance package, but she's only been with the NYPD nine years so it's not going to be some huge sum."
"She must be taking that pretty hard."
"She is. I think she's going to miss the people she works with more than the actual job. Those people are like members of our family. I keep telling her that it's not like she won't be close to them any more. We're still going to see Danny and Lindsay all the time. They live two blocks away and they're godparents to the girls. It's not like Sam's never going to see them again."
"Still a hell of a shock though to lose your job," Senior said.
"You can say that again. She's been on this emotional roller coaster ever since. Which only makes the fibromyalgia act up."
"So what she going to do? You two going to be okay with just your wages? You going to be okay taking care of a mortgage and other bills and those two girls on just what you make?"
"No," Flack said with a heavy sigh. "For a couple of weeks there we were contemplating putting the house up for sale and getting ourselves an apartment in lower Manhattan. A two bedroom. Just big enough for us and the girls. Get rid of one of the cars and rely more on the subway."
"The whole lot of you could always come here and live with your mother and I," his father suggested. "We have enough space if the girls share a room. You and Samantha would have the larger guest bedroom or I could think about hiring someone to add onto the house or making a small apartment in the basement."
"Thanks, dad. I appreciate you offering all of that. But…"
Senior frowned. "How is there a but? Better then ending up on the street with your family."
Flack chuckled. "We're far from in danger of living in a cardboard box, dad."
"Not enough room for them girls and all their stuff in an apartment," he huffed. "Those girls come with a lot of stuff. Not to mention they'd be uprooted from the school they're at and all their friends. You stay here, it's a bit of a drive but Kellan and Kallison could still go to the same school and keep all their little friends."
"Dad, it's going to be okay. Sam and I…"
"You don't want to screw them girls up so early in life, Donnie."
"I know that, dad. But things happen. Some times life leads you in an entirely different direction then what you had planned. That's just the way it goes. But we're not going to be out on the street. Sammie's already got a new job lined up."
"Where at? Within the department?"
Flack shook his head. "With the New Jersey Crime lab."
His father arched an eyebrow.
"Remember Stella Bonasera? Mac Taylor's right hand woman for years?"
"Tall girl, kinky hair and killer legs. Wore tops all the time that showed off her set. What about her?"
"Well she moved to Jersey to run their lab and when she got wind of Sam being let go, she called us up and offered Sam a job. As lead hand. Working just below Stella. More money, better hours, more responsibility."
"So my girl's heading to the Jersey PD?"
Flack nodded. "And I think I'm heading there too, dad."
Senior's eyes widened. "You given up the department? Walking away from the NYPD?"
"I'd still keep my same level of salary and my position," Flack told him. "I still qualify for any promotion that comes up. Nothing really changes. Just the city. It's easier for Sammie if we move to Jersey. I figure if we put the house on the market in the new year, we could look for a place in Jersey. Cost of living is cheaper there and we'd be able to get an even bigger, nicer place. Find a great neighbourhood with a good school for the girls to go to…"
"Why not just stay with the department and commute from Jersey?" his dad asked. "Why do you have to leave the department?"
"I don't have to," Flack replied. "I'm just thinking about the commute during bad weather or when I've worked a triple and I'm too damn tired to drive that far. Or if I need to get home for an emergency and I'm all the way here."
"You can stay here on those nights you're too tired to travel," Senior reasoned. "You could even stay here during the week and arrange with the Chief of Detectives to get weekends off so you can be home in Jersey with your family."
"Dad…"
"The girls could even stay here during the school year so they wouldn't have to be uprooted."
"Dad, I'm not taking Kellan and Kallison away from their mother. And I'm not spending all that time away from my family."
"So instead you're tossing away an amazing career with the NYPD?" Senior asked incredulously.
"I'm still going to climb the ladder in New Jersey, dad. I'm not tossing anything away. I'm thinking about my family. My wife and my daughters mean more to me then the department. And I know that probably doesn't sit well with you, but that's the way it is. I'm not like you, dad. I can't just shove my family on the backburner."
"You're New York born and raised," his father argued. "And you're going to leave the city?"
"Lots of people are born and raised here and life leads them somewhere else," Flack reasoned. "Things happen, dad. It's a decision I'm going to have to seriously consider. And I hope that I can get your support no matter what I choose to do."
Senior sighed heavily and shook his head. He contemplated his son's words for a moment before finally continuing up the stairs. "Better get inside," he said. "Your mother's going to kill me for hogging you for so long."
"Dad…" Flack sighed heavily from the bottom of the stairs. "Don't walk away from me, or this, like that."
Senior turned and looked down at his son. His blue eyes meeting their identical match. "Whatever you decide to do, Donnie, I will have your back a hundred percent," he said.
Flack gave a smile and watched as his father turned and disappeared into the house.
For a son that had gone so long living with disapproval, his dad's words meant the world to him. And were as good as any blessing.
The hours ticked by. The passing of time going unnoticed to those gathered in that modest home in Flushing, Queens. Laughter and memories of Christmases past were shared. Digital cameras and camcorders ran constantly as the twins excitedly immersed themselves in unpacking the goodies in their stockings and unwrapping the gifts from Santa. Filling the house with their shrieks of delight and their infectious giggles. Surrounded by mounds of wrapping paper and bows, they brought smiles to the faces of the adults in the room. There was nothing as magical as watching a child on Christmas day. So sweet and innocent. In love with life and everyone in it. Oblivious to the evils of the world.
The girls had assisted the adults with tearing open their presents before helping with the clean up and giving mommy and grandma a hand in the kitchen baking Pillsbury rolls and dumping cranberry sauce into grandma's pretty bowls as they called the etched crystal serving bowls that Patricia only brought out on special occasions. While the ladies had stayed inside and tended to meal preparations, the girls got bundled up in their snowsuits and boots and hats and mitts once again and went outside in the backyard with daddy Flack and grandpa Flack and Wiener and built snow forts and engaged in snowball fights. Patricia and Sam had watched from the kitchen window as the men in their lives did whatever was necessary to keep those twins entertained. Whether it be teaming up with each other and letting the girls defeat them in a snowball battle of Flack literally getting down on his back and making snow angels with them, there was no feat too big or too small.
The twins were flushed and content and still giggling when they stomped back into the house an hour later. Ecstatic that they'd been able to beat daddy and grandpa and even more ecstatic about helping mommy and grandma with the set up for dinner. Both girls loved to help out, and they were over the moon to be able to put out the scarlet red napkins that they so lovingly folded and lay out the silverware. But nothing brought more shrieks then when grandpa brought up the child sized wooden craft table and chairs from the basement and putting them alongside the dining room table so they could eat with the adults. He had even went as far as putting a Christmas themed table cloth over it and grabbed a poinsettia from the living room and used it as their centre piece.
Dinner had been excellent. A feast fit for kings prepared by the two women. Turkey and maple baked ham accompanied by sweet potatoes and carrots and and grandpa's famous stuffing and corn and pepper squash as requested by the girls. It was mommy's speciality and they loved it. Sam would take the squash and cut it in half and scoop up the seeds and fill the hole with margarine and brown sugar and a touch of syrup and back them in the oven. Pumpkin pie and caramel cheesecake for dessert.
Although grandpa had a special treat in store for himself and his angels. Which he was now digging out of the freezer as the twins anxiously waited at his feet for what he had in store.
"Well?" he asked, closing the freezer door and turning towards them with a tub of ice cream carton in his hand. "Do either of you recognize this?" he held the container out for them to see.
Their blue eyes widened and their faces lit up.
"CANDY CANE CRACKLE!" Kellan cried ecstatically.
"That's our favourite, gwampa!" Kallison exclaimed.
"Which is exactly why I bought it," he declared. "Go and sit down at the big table and I'll get the spoons and the chocolate sauce."
The girls nearly tripped over themselves racing across the kitchen. Hoisting their tiny bodies up onto two chairs and getting up on their knees, hands clasped in anticipation.
Flack Sr grabbed three spoons from the drain board and went to the pantry by the stove and opened up. Snagging a squeeze bottle of chocolate sauce before closing the pantry back up and crossing the kitchen and laying everything down on the table. He went back to the drain board, grabbed three plastic tumblers and a jug of chocolate milk from the fridge before joining his granddaughters.
He poured them all glasses of chocolate milk before sitting down in the chair between them and popping the lid off the ice cream.
Kellan and Kallison's eyes widened more then ever as they watched their grandfather open the chocolate sauce and then pour it directly into the container of ice cream.
"There!" he exclaimed, setting the chocolate sauce aside. "It's perfect! Dig in girls!"
They happily did so, joining their grandpa in a feast of chocolate and ice cream.
"Gwampa?" Kellan asked, licking her spoon. "Have you ever seen Annabelle's Wish?"
"What is it?" he inquired.
"It's a Christmas movie," Kallison answered around a mouthful of ice cream. "It's about this little boy named Billy that gets in a barn fire and he gets rescued but both his mommy and daddy die and he never talks again."
"He's mute," Kellan explained.
"And he lives on the farm with his grandpa," her sister added.
"And the mean Aunt wants to take him away," Kellan said. "She's really mean and really rich, too."
"And every Christmas Santa comes and sprinkles magic Santie dust on the animals so they can talk all Christmas day!" Kallison chirped. "The baby cow's name is Annabelle. And you know what her one wish is?"
"What's that?" Flack Sr asked.
"Annabelle wants to be a reindeer," replied Kellan. "This one time Billy and his bestest and only friend Emily tie antlers to Annabelle's head with a scarf and put a toboggan on her and they are going really fast down this hill and crash into a fence and get in big trouble!"
"And one day the mean auntie comes to take Billy away!" Kallison exclaimed, digging into the frozen treat.
"And what happens?" Flack Sr asked, sipping his chocolate milk.
"Annabelle asks Santa to give Billy her magic dust so Billy can talk and tell the mean aunt he wants to stay with his gwampa!" Kellan replied. "And guess what, gwampa?"
"What?" he asked.
"When Billy opened his presents, the dust sprinkled out on him and he could talk!" Kallison cried. "So he got to stay with his gwampa!"
"And then when he's older, him and Emily are married," Kellan said. "And Annabelle is really old and goes missing and he goes after her."
"And you know what happened next, gwampa?" inquired Kallison.
"What happened next?" he asked.
"Santa Claus found her and gave her her wish!" Kellan exclaimed. "She got to become a reindeer and she flew away with him forever!"
"It was really happy but sad too," Kallison said. "Me and Kellan cried."
"Lots," her sister added. "Mommy cried, too."
"What's mommy crying about now?" Flack asked, catching the tail end of the conversation as he came up the basement steps with two baby books and a photo album in his hands. The girls had asked if they could see the baby books that grandma had made for them when they were infants. And if they could see a picture of their daddy as a baby.
"Annabelle's Wish, daddy," Kellan answered, turning her chocolate covered face towards him.
"That was a pretty sad movie," he said. "What's all over your face, baby girl?"
"Chocolate sauce ," she giggled.
"And Candy Cane Crackle ice cream," Kallison added.
"Chocolate milk, too?" Flack asked. "Hope you plan on staying up all night with them when they're bouncing off the walls, dad."
"I will do what I have to do," Sr replied. "Mind your own."
"Don't call him dad, daddy," Kellan said. "It's gwampa."
"That's what I call him because grandpa is my dad."
"He is?" Kallison asked.
Flack nodded and sat the photo album and baby books down. He went to the fridge and grabbed himself a bottle of beer, snapping off the top before snagging a clean dish cloth from the drawer by the sink and wetting it with warm water. Carrying it, the beer and a tea towel to the table.
When the girls were satisfied with the amount of ice cream they'd consumed and polished off their chocolate milk, Flack washed their faces and their hands and dried them off before picking Kellan up from her chair. He sat down and settled his daughter in his lap. Grandpa did the same with Kallison.
"Which one is mine?" Kellan asked, as her dad reached for the baby books. Handing one to his father.
Flack sat the scrap book down in front of her. The front cover was bubblegum pink with white stripes and across it in black marker was written: KELLAN ELIZABETH DANIELLE FLACK. FRIDAY SEPTEMBER 11, 2011 3:13 PM. 4 POUNDS 3 OUNCES, 13 INCHES.
"That's my name!" Kellan giggled, letting out a small shriek of delight when her father flipped open the cover and a picture of herself as a newborn greeted her. Impossibly tiny in a white and yellow newborn onesie that seemed mammoth on her. A head full of thick, black hair. "That's me, daddy!"
"And that's me!" Kallison cried from her grandfather's lap, her own book open in front of her. The cover bearing KALLISON FAITH LINDSAY FLACK. FRIDAY SEPTEMBER 11, 2011, 3:11 PM. 5 POUNDS, ONE OUNCE. 15 INCHES. "I was so tiny!"
"Me too!" Kellan exclaimed. "And there's mommy and you, daddy! Holding me and Kallison! And there's Uncle Danny and Auntie Linds and Papa Mac and Auntie Kelli!"
"And Auntie Mari and Uncle Shelly!" Kallison cried as she flipped through the pages.
The girls spent nearly an hour going through their baby books. Giggling at pictures and pointing out familiar faces and asking numerous questions.
"What was daddy like as a baby, gwampa?" Kallison eventually asked, working on her second glass of chocolate milk as she leaned back against her grandfather's chest.
"Be nice, dad," Flack warned, sipping his beer.
"Your daddy was a very good baby," his father said. "He weighed nine pounds, thirteen ounces he was born and was over twenty-two inches long. A big baby considering how small your grandma is. And he had all of this black hair and these huge blue eyes and chubby, rosy cheeks. And he had huge feet!"
The girls giggled at that.
"Daddy has big feet even now!" Kellan exclaimed. "Mommy always complains they get in her way and she trips over them!"
"And he barely cried," their grandfather continued. "He was always very happy and giggled a lot. Just like the two of you. But you know what he did a lot of that drove me and your grandma nuts?"
The girls shook their heads.
"He threw up constantly," Flack Sr told them. "All the time. Everytime we fed him he was puking it right back up. All over the place."
"Daddy was a puker!" Kallison exclaimed and she and her sister burst into giggles.
"But, for the most part, he was a really, really, really good baby," he said. "Cute as a button, too. Want to see a picture?"
The girls nodded excitedly as their grandfather reached for the photo album and flipped it open. Pointing out an eight by ten coloured photograph of a newborn boy in a blue and white stripped sleeper. Tons of black hair on his tiny head. And massive blue eyes.
"You were so cute daddy!" Kellan cried. "You look just like me and Kallison!"
"Daddy is a cutie patutie," Kallison declared. "That's why mommy likes him so much."
"Mommy always says that she loves daddy 'cause of his eyes," her sister piped up. "Is that true, daddy?"
"That's why she says," Flack said. "But I like to think there's more to it than that."
"More to what?" Sam asked as she entered the kitchen.
"Why you fell in love with me," her husband replied. "Your daughters seem to think it had everything to do with my eyes."
"Well they helped," she told him, laying her hands on his shoulders and kissing the top of his head. "But there was a lot more to it."
"Like what, mommy?" Kellan asked curiously.
"Yeah?" Flack inquired. "Like what mommy?"
"Lots of stuff," Sam replied, running her fingers through his hair.
"Like…" Flack pressed.
"I don't know," his wife said and stepped to his side, slipped onto his free knee and curled an arm around his neck.
"Thanks, babe," he snorted and swigged beer. "You don't know what you love about me…nice…"
"It's not that," she frowned. "I just don't know what to say off the top of my head. Okay…well, I love the way your daddy looks at me like I'm in the only girl he's ever loved and the only one he's ever found pretty in his entire life. I like how he makes me laugh even when I'm having a really, really day. I love the way he smiles at me and pushes my hair behind my ears. I love the way he makes me feel all warm and tingly inside when he smiles at me or kisses my cheek. And I love the way he makes me feel safe and protected. Like nothing bad can ever happen to me."
Both the girls and grandpa smiled at that. Grandpa noticing the undying, unwavering love that passed between his son and his wife as they looked at each other and smiled.
"Was that so hard?" Flack asked his wife, kissing her shoulder softly before pecking her lips.
"It was less painful than I thought it would be," she teased.
He winked at her and sipped his beer.
"And mommy likes to be spanked too," Kallison said nonchalantly.
Flack nearly spit a mouthful of beer across the table.
"That's what you said, daddy," his daughter reminded him.
Flack Sr couldn't help but chuckle. Both at the casual tone of his granddaughter's voice, and at the embarrassment evident on both her parents faces.
"You weren't suppose to repeat that," Sam scolded her. "Especially in front of grandpa."
"It's okay," Flack Sr assured both Kallison and his daughter in law. "Grandma likes to be spanked, too."
Flack couldn't keep the beer in his mouth the second time around. "Dad!" he exclaimed, horrified at what he'd just heard. "Do you mind? I so did not need to hear that!"
"What you think us old folks never…"
"Dad!" his son coughed and sputtered. "Please…spare me, okay? Spare all of us. I'm going to have nightmares now."
"I am just saying that…"
"I know what you're saying! And I want to pretend you never said it! Christ, dad. Honestly."
"Just because there's snow on the roof doesn't mean…"
"Do you mind?" Flack asked. "Seriously. Do you mind?"
His father chuckled and shook his head and sipped chocolate milk. "You're a chip off the old block, Donnie. Don't you forget that."
Flack smiled. And as he sat there, surrounded by his wife and his daughters and the man who'd helped give him life, he realized that his last name wasn't such a curse after all. That being his old man's son wasn't the horrific thing he'd made it out to be all of his life.
And that he'd come out from underneath his father's shadow. In one piece.
Sam yawned noisily as she wandered into the largest of the spare room's of her in law's home. The bedroom her husband had shared many years before with his younger brother. The bunkbeds were long gone, as were the navy blue walls and stark white ceiling and the book shelves and posters of the Rangers and the Mets that had been plastered from floor to ceiling. Patricia had long ago converted the space into a comfy and cozy guest room. Dark grey carpeting with light grey walls and black wooden blinds on the windows. The furniture was black as well. An armoire and dresser and two night stands and a sleigh style queen sized bed with a grey, black and white patterned comforter set.
Her husband was sprawled out on the now rumbled bed, wearing a pair of dark blue jogging pants with NYPD written down the right leg in big white letters and a plain white t-shirt. Playing a Nintendo DS as he listened to CNN on the television across the room. Exhausted from being up so early with the girls and the excitement of Christmas Day. The evening culminating in supervising from the hall as his twins tooka bubble bath and spent nearly an hour creating shampoo sculptures in each other's hair and colouring on the walls with soap crayons.
He glanced up as his wife padded into the room and closed the door behind her. He found her astonishingly sexy with her hair up in a loose ponytail, tendrils tumbling alongside of her face. No makeup gracing her features. Wearing a pair of black satin lounging pants and one of his wife beaters. The simple glimpse of her bare, creamy skin sending a thrill through him. Even after eight years she got to him so easily and effortlessly.
"Girls okay?" he asked, as she slipped into bed alongside of him.
She yawned again and nodded. "They just wanted some drinks of water. They're out again."
"They're exhausted. All the excitement from the day."
"It was quite the day," Sam sighed, settling on her left side and cuddling in close, her head on his shoulder, her hand on his stomach. "Did you have a good Christmas?"
"I did," he said. "Did you?"
She nodded. "Glad it's over though."
"Me, too," Flack said, switching off the DS and setting it on the nightstand. "All the planning and stress…"
"And the spending," Sam added.
"Yeah…that's the worst part. I am dreading getting those credit card bills. You watching this?" he nodded at the television.
She shook her head.
He grabbed the remote sitting next to him and switched the television off before tossing the remote beside the DS. He leaned over to switch off the beside lamp and then wrapped his arm around her slender shoulders.
"Thank you," she said, rubbing his stomach softly.
"For what, babe?" he asked, his fingers stroking her shoulder gently.
"Just for being you," she replied. "For loving me like you do. For taking such good care of me and the girls."
"You and the girls are my everything," he told her. "You know that."
"You've stuck around through a lot, Donnie. Through all the bad times and my illness and…"
"And I'm going to keep sticking around," he told her. "I'm not going anywhere. Well, unless you want me to and you're hinting at something."
She shook her head. "I quite like having you around," she said. "I think I'll keep you."
"Yeah? I think I'll stick around then," he told her, kissing the top of her head. "And thank you."
"For?"
"For putting up with my shit for eight years. For loving me like you do. For keeping me grounded during those times I thought I'd lose my mind. And for giving me my daughters."
She smiled up at him. Her eyes sparkling in the moonlight that peeked through the blinds on the window next to the bed.
He kissed her softly. Tasting the mint of her toothpaste on her lips.
"I'm going to call Sinclair when I go back to work on the twenty-seventh," he told her, resting his chin on the top of her head.
"You are?"
Flack nodded. "I've decided what I'm going to do. Now that you've made the decision to go and work for Stel."
"And what did you decide?" Sam asked. Almost fearfully.
"I've decided that it's time to move on," he replied. "That I need a change. That I'm going to ask him to hook me up with the Chief of Detectives over in New Jersey. And that if the PD down there will have me, that I'm going to move my family there and settle down."
"Are you sure, Donnie? I want you to be sure."
"I'm sure, babe. A hundred percent. It's something I need to do. For you and the girls. And for myself."
"I just want you to be sure," she said. "I don't want you deciding this just because I'm…"
"I'm deciding this because it's the best thing for my family," he told her. "Plain and simple."
She sat up and leaned into him. Pressing a soft, loving kiss to his lips. "I love you so much, baby," she whispered.
"I love you, too, Sammie. I'll always love you. You know that right?"
She nodded.
"It's going to be good for us. A new start. And we're going to be happy."
"We are happy, Donnie," she said. "Aren't you happy?"
"With you and the girls? Absolutely. But with the job and being in New York? I haven't been happy here in a long time. Ever since my brother…"
She silenced him with a kiss. Holding his chin in her hands. "Can you do me a favour?" she asked, her fingertips trailing softly over his face.
"Anything baby," he replied.
"Do you think you could show me just how much you love me and worship me?"
He smiled and wrapped his arms around her slender body and seized her lips in a passionate kiss. Tipping her onto her back and propping himself on one arm above her as he continued to kiss her, their tongues deep in each other's mouths, his free hand roaming her body.
"I think I'm up to that task," he said, as he broke away from her mouth and his lips found her neck.
She sighed and closed her eyes and relaxed under his skillful mouth and hands. His touch and his love the only constant thing in her life. Always managing to bring her to her knees even eight years later. His kisses and his love making familiar but never boring.
Their love would always remain the same.
Even when their lives were drastically changing.
Thanks to everyone that is reading and reviewing! I appreciate each and every one of you! Even the lurkers! But please, please, please R and R folks! Thanks!
Special thanks to:
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