A/N: Thank you, everyone, for all your reviews on EVERYTHING. I Know, I haven't updated a damn thing in... a long time. I apologize for that. Just know that I haven't abandoned ANY stories. I'm still working on them, I just haven't had a whole lot to write lately. Maybe it's because now that I'm not in school anymore I don't have 2-3 hours per day to slack off and write stories when I'm supposed to be taking notes. Anyway, like I said, I'm still working on all my stories, just as fast as I can!

This chapter comes courtesy of Tirsh - she whined that I say i'll write and then don't, and then of course I had to set out to prove her wrong. What I'm sure is months later, here it is.

Jules searches the depths of her suitcase for the pantyhose she's sure she threw in there. She hates them, tries to avoid them if at all possible, but had a feeling and packed them. She finds them at the bottom, next to the pair of fuzzy christmas tree socks she'd rather be wearing, and puts them on.

"Avert your eyes, I'm wet," Sam announces as he returns from the adjoining washroom, towel tied around his waist.

She scoffs, rolling her eyes as she turns her attention back to where two toes are tangled in fabric, rebelling against the pantyhose. Sneaks a sideways glance as she fights with the garment, smirking to herself.

"Hey!"

"I'm allowed to look," she says with a shrug, winning the battle against the garment. "I still don't think this is a good idea."

He sighs, buckles his belt and runs the towel through his hair one last time. "It's a cool place - good food, good drinks… it'll be fun."

"'Not the restaurant I'm not thrilled about," she mutters, laying out Noah's pyjamas for the night.

He shoots her a sympathetic smile, buttoning his black dress shirt. "It's been a long time since we went on a date without bringing Noah with us. "

She shakes her head. "Wear the blue shirt, and it has not. We just went out last…"

"Jules, the last time we had an adult only dinner in a restaurant was our anniversary, and that was six months ago. We didn't even get past appetizers."

"Don't blame that on me, Sam. You wanted to leave just as much as I did," she defends, straightening her hair clip in front of the mirror. "Besides, dinner with Spike and your sister doesn't exactly qualify as a date."

He nods, moves to her side. "It's only a couple hours," he assures, pulling her closer with one arm. "There'll be dinner, wine, maybe some dancing…"

"You're going to dance?"

"I never said that. I said there might be some, not that I'd be involved. Come on, please?" he whines, pouting.

She laughs. "Alright, fine. But I swear, as soon as midnight hits we're out of there."

He grins. "Ok, Cinderella."

They meet Spike and Natalie at the bottom of the stairs, posing for a few pictures before being allowed out of the house. It's worse than prom night, which Sam whispers to Jules just a little too loud. He catches a scornful glare from his mother, and is forced to pose for another half dozen photos.

They're released from the house, but not before Jules double checks - for the hundredth time - if Mrs Braddock will be ok with Noah for the evening. The older woman grins, tell her to get the hell out of her house so that she can have some quality time with her grandson.

Their cab's meter, having run during their entire photo shoot because someone isn't impressed to be working New Year's Eve, is already at ten dollars when they get in the car. Sure, it's only ten dollars, but both Sam and Natalie groan, knowing from experience that that literally doubles the cost of their ride.

Fingers drumming on the door, Jules turns to Sam. "Are you sure your mom will be ok with-"

He's already shaking his head, doesn't need her to continue. "Jules, seriously? She had three kids of her own, who were all very close in age and she managed to look after us just fine. I'm sure she can handle one baby, for a matter of hours."

"Right." Nods, turns her attention back to the street out her window. "So, how far is this place?"

"Not far. About 10 minutes, 15 with traffic."

"We could have walked."

"With these two?" Juts a thumb to the back seat where Spike and Natalie - having sampled their fair share of a bottle of champagne back at the house - sit giggling amongst themselves.

Rolling her eyes, Jules shrugs. "Guess not."

They arrive at the restaurant and Jules has a small town moment, thinking that there's definitely nothing like this back in the Hat. And just as quickly as she's impressed by the military town's best restaurant - the place to be on New Year's Eve - she's reminded of where she is. What might pass as a quiet, upscale restaurant every other night of the year transforms into a crowded party. Walking in they meet the hostess near the bar. A seasoned pro, she barely blinks as she finds their name on the reservation schedule while a crowd of blatantly new recruits cheer on a friend downing shots. Menus in hand, she smiles, asks them to follow her.

Passing the bar, Sam's accosted by an older man. Catches him out of the corner of his eye, grabs Sam and strikes up a conversation. He's already half in the bag, a thick mug sloshing beer towards the crowd as he gestures with his hands.

Sam gives Jules a knowing smirk, takes her hand as if she's about to get swept away by the rowdy crowd. "Jules, this is General Drun-erm, General Drummond, an old friend of the family."

Jules smiles, holds back a cackle at Sam's near slip of the tongue as she shakes the man's hand.

"Sir, this is Jules, my wife."

The words are barely out of Sam's mouth before the man is grinning ear to ear, swinging around on the barstool to get a better look. "Well, then! 'Heard a rumour you got married but had to see for myself. Boy Braddock, she's a looker. I suppose that makes you the pretty young lady Sam was buying daisies for-"

Sam interrupts, clearing his throat loudly. "Well it was nice seeing you Sir, but our table is ready and we're starving." Shaking the man's hand in farewell he nearly drags Jules away, quickly stopping at the other side of the bar before joining Spike and Natalie where they sit watching them impatiently. Turning to her he sighs. "Look Jules, about what he said…"

"It's ok Sam, you don't have to explain."

"No…" he stammers, shakes his head. "Look I don't want you to think that I… I mean I wasn't… they were for my sister," he whispers, hoping what he's saying doesn't sound like the worst lie of all time.

"I know." Jules nods with a serious tone and a slight smile.

"You know?"

"You came back from the world's longest run with a glitter on your jacket, a purple tongue, and grape breath. I thought at first that maybe you got distracted and visited an old friend but your mom asked if you'd be going by the cemetery and it all just made sense."

He lets out the breath he's been holding and the world's smallest smile. "I just… I don't know, I guess I… I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

She shakes her head, hand tightening on his. "You don't need to be."

He smiles, steals a quick kiss before glancing at where their table sits half occupied and waiting for him. "Shall we?"

Dinner orders are placed quickly. In preparation for the night's festivities the restaurant reduced their menu to a few signature dishes, making it easy to get quick orders from patrons as well as keep things simple in the kitchen. It also means less time spent listening to Natalie debate, aloud, which fish she prefers since there's only one option.

Conversation at the table is lively, and once Spike and Sam agree to disagree on their predictions for the rest of the hockey season Natalie tosses in her own contribution, a raving review of the latest crime show.

Sam stares at his sister, stunned. "Are you joking me?"

Jules shakes her head, smiling. "No, sorry, not a good show. Soap opera, maybe, but it shouldn't be labeled a crime show."

"I thought it was inspiring," Natalie insists.

"Insp- oh god… Spike? A little help?" Sam requests.

With a sip of his beer Spike simply shakes his head, throwing his hands up in surrender. "I'm going to need to plead the fifth on this one."

"Fif-" Jules rolls her eyes, "Spike, you're Canadian."

"Well, what I was going to say might not go over so well at this table," Spike defends, glancing at Sam.

With a thoughtful look, Sam nods, standing up from the table. "Yeah… yeah I'm going for another beer. Anyone else?"

As she waits for Sam to return with her drink, Jules turns her attention back to Spike and Natalie. Having moved on from the crime show debate, the two easily fall into a new discussion. Spike asks if Natalie has read the book he left out for her, she tells him she did, but forgot it back at their apartment when they left on Christmas vacation. He smirks, tells her he's sure she did, and she sets out to prove herself by explaining, in detail, what she's read so far.

With a smile, Jules excuses herself from the table. Checking that Sam is still in line at the bar, she discretely takes her coat from the hook by the table and makes her way outside. Catching a chill from the winter air, she wraps her coat more tightly around her. She can't be bothered to zip it up - figures she won't be outside long enough for it to matter. Reaching into a pocket, she fiddles with the numbers on her cell phone. Beginning a walk - which feels more like the beginning of a pace - down the sidewalk in front of the restaurant, she stops by a street lamp. Staring at her phone, she locks and unlocks it, putting it in her pocket, pulling it back out.

He finds her there, interrogating her cell phone like it's a hot call and Ed and Sarge are breathing down her neck to get the information. Careful not to spook her, he quietly approaches from behind her.

"I swear I didn't call."

He smiles, figuring he should have known she's too aware of her surroundings to be snuck up on. "Of course you didn't."

"I didn't," she insists, frowning as he joins her, leaning against the lamppost. "I wanted to, but I didn't."

"If I hadn't come out here?"

She rolls her eyes, smirking as she notices his lack of a coat. "You must be cold," she tells him, wrapping an arm around his waist and pulling him closer.

"Oh, so now you're just going to warm me up?"

"Have to distract you from all the questions somehow, don't I?"

"Hmmm," he smirks to himself, pulling her closer and pressing a kiss to her temple. "You alright?"

She nods against his shoulder, relaxing into their embrace. "I'm fine. Just being Momma Worrier." The restaurant door swings open, letting the music of the dance floor inside reach their ears. At the familiar tune, Jules grins, brown eyes staring up at Sam. "Sam…"

"No."

"I seem to recall mention of dancing when you persuaded me that this was a good idea."

He shakes his head, backing away from her. "And I said, more than once, that I would not be dancing."

"Sam," she pleads, grasping his hand with both of hers and tugging him towards the door. "Come on. Please? Please."

"Jules…"

"Sam," she stops, gives him a serious look. "You dragged me, practically against my will, away from my baby on New Year's Eve. The least you can do, as my husband, is dance with me."

He tilts his head to the side, eyes narrowing at her.

"Oh yes, I went there."

Having pressed her luck about as far as it's going to go on the dance floor with Sam, Jules gives in and follows him back to the table.

Pulling his buzzing cell phone from his pocket Sam shrugs. "I'll catch up to you."

Though she wonders who could be calling, Jules nods and happily joins Spike and Natalie at the table. The couple quickly invite her in on their conversation, but she can't help but feel that maybe she's interrupted. Maybe they recently changed the topic of conversation, out of necessity rather than interest. A look towards the door tells her Sam is on his way back to the table. Relieved, she goes with the conversation, hoping that Sam's contribution will at least lessen the awkwardness.

Acknowledging him with a nod as he sits down beside her, Jules asks, "Who was that?"

Sam sighs. "My mom checking in."

Jules takes a second, searching his expression for the details he isn't giving her. "And?"

"Apparently Noah isn't too thrilled about whatever tooth is coming in."

Jules nods, takes a sip of her drink and rolls her eyes. "He hasn't been thrilled about any of them. Is she going to be ok with him?"

"Yeah, she's fine. She said she just wanted to let us know so that we didn't panic if he was still up when we got home." He frowns, spins his phone on the table in front of him.

"We should go."

"What? Jules, it's barely 11:30."

"Neither of us are going to have any fun knowing Noah's miserable. Besides, now I just feel bad for your mom. She shouldn't have to deal with teething - that's our job."

Sam waits a minute, appears to be on the verge of protesting but agrees as he recalls the sounds of Noah's cries as they overpowered his mother's voice on the phone. Saying quick goodbyes to Spike and Natalie, the two work their way through the crowd and out of the restaurant. It's early - earlier than they'd prefer - to be leaving the party of the town, but it has it's benefits. They easily find a cab and are home before they know it, thanks to the lack of traffic.

Arriving at the Braddock family home, Jules exits the cab, nearly jogging to the front door. Sam, having had the money ready before they even turned onto their street, is right behind her. They find Noah wrapped in his grandmother's arms, sobbing as he mourns the arrival of his newest tooth. "I really didn't mean for you two to leave your party," Mrs Braddock insists, rising out of the rocker in the living room as she hands the baby to Jules.

"Oh don't worry about it," Jules smiles, focusing her attention on her son. "It's ok, Mommy's here," she soothes, pressing a quick kiss to each rosy cheek.

Sam gives his mother a quick smile as he thanks her for giving up her night so they could go out, and watches as Jules tries to talk down their son. He watches as she paces, rocks, stills, whispers, rocks again as Noah continues on. Sighing, he approaches, convinces her to hand over the baby. "This isn't good, Jules."

Jules nods, hunts through her suitcase. "Just… keep talking to him. I was sure I threw a ring in here somewhere… although maybe I put it in the fridge…" she mutters, mostly to herself, as she leaves the room.

"What the-" Sam shakes his head at her exit and turns back to Noah. "Come on buddy, it's not the end of the world," he pleads, frowning when the crying continues.

"Here, try this," Jules tells him, handing him the teething ring she packed just in case.

Sam nods, silently praying it works. It does, for a moment, and he lets out the breath he's been holding. "There you go, isn't that better?" The words have barely left his lips when Noah tires of the solution, returning to his previous state of discontent. "Jules?"

She nods, takes Noah back in her arms and begins rocking as she paces the room with him. "I know, I know, you hate those teeth, don't you?"

"Jules, this isn't good," Sam shakes his head, repeating his words from earlier.

Jules simply frowns, shrugs in return. "Yeah, it's going to be a long night."

The crease in Sam's forehead deepens in confusion. "Long ni- Jules, you act like this has happened before."

"Well, he does have other teeth Sam. It's not his first time."

His face falls as he watches her. "You mean he's been like this before? Is he like this every time?"

Jules shrugs, rubs soothing, yet ineffective, circles on Noah's back. "Well, not every time. But it happens."

"Why didn't I know that?" he asks, feeling the slight sting of being left out of the details.

"I don't know. 'Guess it usually happens while you're at work. Actually for some reason it's usually when you're on nights."

Sam shakes his head, reaching out and taking Noah for what he considers his turn to do the pacing. "So you what? Just try to get him to stop crying all night while I'm at work?"

"Mostly," she admits, kicking off the heels she's just realized she's still wearing.

Sam shakes his head in disbelief. "That makes no sense. You're always awake when I get home after the night shift."

"And?"

"And…when do you sleep?"

Tossing her shoes aside she gives him one more shrug. "I don't know, in between Noah's tooth crises? I sleep when he sleeps." She moves across the room, standing in front of him and pressing another kiss to Noah's tear soaked cheek. "I'm going to run and get changed, and then you can do the same. Will you be ok with him for a couple minutes?"

He nods, watches as she runs up the stairs. Returning his gaze to his son he sighs, gives talking him down another shot as he thinks about what Jules has told him. He wonders just how many nights she's spent pacing their house trying to console an inconsolable infant. Wonders why she never mentioned it. Wonders if there's anything else she doesn't tell him.