I can't thank the reviewers of this story enough. You inspire and encourage me to continue, even if it takes me forever to do so…and believe me, I know it's taking me forever to update this story. I have honestly been trying to write faster and update more often, but unfortunately my life has taken a crappy turn. I'm now working another job so my time has become that much more limited. I spend a large part of my shift, when I'm not doing customer service, thinking about this story. I write as often as I can, even if it's only for ten or fifteen minutes at a time. If I could, I would update this story with much more regularity. I hope you all understand why I haven't been able to update frequently….anyway, I've babbled enough here. On with the story!

"You're awfully quiet today, son," Frank commented without looking up from the Sunday Times. "Something on your mind?"

Jamie picked up his bottle of cold beer and took a long pull trying to find the right words. The bottle hit the solid wood of the small table with a loud thud. "I'm sorry."

Frank finally looked up over the edge of the paper at his son. It was clear that Jamie was beating himself up pretty good about whatever was bothering him.

"Whatever it is, son, it can't be that bad." He closed the newspaper and sat it down on the table to give Jamie his full attention. After a few minutes of silence, watching as Jamie struggled to open up, he sighed. "You know, when you were a child, Danny, Erin and Joe would get upset with your mother and I on a regular basis. They thought we gave you some sort of special treatment when you'd done something bad. Apparently the punishments we deemed acceptable for you were too lenient in their opinions. Supposedly we were tougher on them."

"Was there any truth to that?"

Again, Frank sighed and nodded his head slowly. "I suppose so. Yes." He rubbed a hand over his face, smoothing his moustache. "But you were a very different kid than the three of them. They'd do something they knew they shouldn't and when things went wrong, as they always did, the instinct was to try to cover it up. If they weren't caught and punished, they could just move on as if it had never happened." He took a sip of his steaming coffee. "You, however, took everything to heart. If you did something that you shouldn't, you confess. Or if you had hurt someone, it ate at you. You thought about it constantly. You took it upon yourself to find a way to make things right. There was no punishment we could've handed you that would've made you realize what you had done or said was wrong. You punished yourself far more efficiently than we ever could have."

"I don't think I've ever made a mistake this big, Dad."

"I can't help if I don't know any of the details."

"You know the woman that Nicky babysits for, Breanne?"

Frank nodded. "Yes, I know of her."

"Well, when I went to pick up Nicky last night….turns out, she's the woman from the park." Jamie chuckled humorlessly as he brought the beer up to his lips again.

"OK, I'm not seeing what the problem is."

"When she saw me in her apartment, she kind of freaked out."

"Didn't Nicky or Erin mention that you'd be picking her up?"

Jamie nodded his head. "She knew...but we'd sort of bumped into each other before that….at the bar."

"The bar where you were working undercover." The pieces were falling into place for Frank. "Did you introduce yourself?"

"Not exactly," Jamie hedged. "I wanted to, but how could I? I was working." He ran his hands through his hair and over his face, sighing in frustration. "There's something about this woman...I can't really explain it. Even if I could, I'm not sure it'd make sense."

Frank smiled slightly, but he was positive his youngest didn't notice. He had a faraway look in his eyes talking about this woman who was still a complete stranger to him...

"...anyway, we were up at the bar, talking. There was nothing awkward about it. It felt right." He looked up at his father as the realization washed over him. "I've never felt something that right before. Not even with Sydney."

"That's a pretty big statement, son," Frank pointed out.

"I know." He picked up the bottle of beer and chugged what was left. "Anyway, Giovanni spotted me at the bar and came up to us, introduced me as Johnny...turns out she knew all about Carmine and his so called friends. She made it pretty clear that she wanted nothing to do with me after that."

"And then she comes home and finds you in her apartment...and Nicky said you were her Uncle Jamie."

"Yeah, that's pretty much it." He played with the label on the bottle, picking at the corner.

"So you had to tell her the truth...why you were introduced as Johnny, a so-called friend of the infamous Carmine Giovanni when you're really Officer Jamie Reagan."

Jamie nodded, his eyes not meeting his father's gaze. "I've put the investigation at risk."

"Not necessarily."

Jamie sighed. His voice was quiet, though Frank could hear his frustration, loud and clear. "C'mon, Dad. If protocol dictates that Grandpa and Erin can't know, then how the hell can this be OK?"

"Do you think she can keep this a secret?"

Jamie shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know, Dad. I just met her."

"Trust your instincts, son," Frank said. "You've always been a good judge of character."

"What if telling her the truth wasn't the right thing to do?" he asked quietly.

Frank was wondering the same thing, but quickly decided that voicing that same thought with Jamie wouldn't be helpful. "Before Giovanni came over to you at the bar, introduced you as Johnny….what'd you think of her?"

A small smile played at his lips. "That she was one of the most beautiful and sweetest people that I had ever met. You know, when I ran into her at the park that day, she offered to help me find a steady painting job." Frank smiled at the wistful look that crossed Jamie's face as he spoke about this woman who had obviously captured his son's attention. "She didn't even know me but yet she was willing to help me…" he picked at the label of the beer bottle. "I felt guilty, Dad," he admitted. "Letting her believe that I was actually a painter when I'm not….if I had turned her down, she probably would've wondered why…."

Frank nodded slightly. "You didn't like misleading her."

"Not at all," he agreed. Standing up, he walked over to the kitchen window..

"So last night, when you had no choice, you told the truth."

"Yeah," he whispered. He turned back around to face his father. "What if it was the wrong decision?"

Frank walked over to his side and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, giving it a short squeeze. "You can't dwell on it now, son. What's done is done. You could be worrying for no reason at all. But if something happens, just know that I will always have your back. Not just as your dad, but also as your PC."

"Thanks, Dad."

Frank nodded and offered a small smile. "Anytime, son."

Frank sat in the chair next to the window of his study, the sun on his face, a glass of whiskey in his hand.

"Knock, knock."

The older man turned to see who was interrupting and a small smile played on his lips when he saw his only daughter standing in the doorway.

"Mind if I join you?"

"I'd like that," Frank nodded. "Where's Nicky?"

"She's in the dining room with Grandpa. They're playing Words With Friends, or something. Apparently Nicky wiped the floor with him last time and he was demanding a rematch."

Frank chuckled. "Sounds like Pop. He's not the best at losing."

"He couldn't even let the kids win when they were little," Erin laughed.

Frank laughed as well. "At least he kept the score fairly close so the kids always walked away feeling like they almost beat him."

"Do you remember the first time Nicky beat him for real? It took him by complete surprise!" Erin recalled the look of glee on her daughters face and the shock that had been written across Henry's.

"That she did," he chuckled and tossed the last bit of whiskey down.

"What brings you by today?"

"We come over every Sunday for dinner," Erin smiled. "Even though we had our family dinner yesterday because Linda's Aunt's in town, Nicky and I decided we didn't want to mess with tradition."

Frank smiled lovingly at his daughter before turning his attention back to the view of the street watching a few neighborhood children run and ride their bikes up and down the street.

Erin studied her father closely. "What's on your mind, Dad?"

Frank chuckled again. "Sounds just like the conversation I started with Jamie earlier this afternoon."

"Ah," she acknowledged, sitting down on the chair across from her father. "Did that conversation have anything to do with Breanne?"

"It did," he confirmed.

A smile spread across her face as she waited for him to continue, but he was silent. "C'mon, Dad! Don't keep me in suspense!" He just looked at her, but said nothing. "Nicky told me about last night. She said she saw sparks between them."

That peaked his curiosity. "How many sparks?"

Erin laughed. "Well, she made a few comparisons between them and some TV and movie couples, but I wasn't exactly familiar with those couples. Nope, that didn't make me feel old at all," she shook her head. Frank chuckled. "But, she said there were more sparks with Breanne than there had ever been with Sydney in all the times she'd seen them together. Combined."

Frank nodded his head, recalling Jamie's own comparison between Breanne and Sydney…

"Tell me something, Erin," Frank started, leaning forward and placing his elbows on knees. "Is Breanne a trustworthy woman?"

Erin's brow knitted together. "If I didn't think so, I wouldn't allow Nicky to babysit for her. Why are you asking me this?"

Frank sighed. "Last night, there was a case of mistaken identity."

"Yeah, I know that too. Breanne thought Jamie was some guy named Johnny."

"That's because when she was first introduced to Jamie, it was by Carmine Giovanni."

"The criminal?!" Erin's face went pale.

Frank motioned for her to quiet her voice. "This information is strictly confidential, Erin. I shouldn't be telling you any of this. But yes. He's working undercover again."

"Already?"

"He was laying the ground work last night at a club downtown. Apparently Breanne was there and they bumped into each other."

A slight smile spread across her face. "Wow. So in the last few weeks, they've randomly bumped into each other three times?"

As an officer of the law, he was trained to not believe in coincidences. But his wife had made him believe in fate.

"It was their fourth meeting when he found out her name and she found out his name is Jamie, not Johnny." She watched her father closely. "Just like you and mom. It took you four meetings before you exchanged names."

Frank smiled at the memory of his late wife. "That wasn't lost on me, either. But regardless, Breanne was aware of the Giovanni name and everything associated with it so when Carmine Giovanni introduced her to Johnny, she pretty much decided on the spot that Johnny wasn't someone that she wanted to be associated with."

"Can't say I blame her," Erin commented quietly.

"Me either. But then she arrived home and found a man she thought was involved with criminals standing in her son's bedroom."

"So Jamie felt like he had to come clean, and tell her about the undercover assignment," Erin realized.

"Exactly," Frank sighed.

"Well, for what it's worth, I trust her. I also consider her a friend. We've bonded over the whole single mother thing."

Frank nodded. "I'm glad to hear that."

"You don't seem convinced, Dad."

"I guess it's just hard for me to put blind trust in someone I've never met. But it does make me feel a little better that you think so highly of her."

Erin leaned forward and placed a hand on her father's knee. "If you need reassurance about her as a person, I suggest you go straight to the source."

And with that, Erin left her father to ponder her advice.

Breanne dried her hands on the dish towel and picked up the beeping phone. "Hello?"

"Good evening, Miss," the older gentleman who had been the doorman in her building since she'd moved in a few months earlier. "You have a visitor this evening."

"Who is it?" she asked.

"He said his name is Frank Reagan. He showed me an official NYPD ID."

She took a deep breath. "You can send him up," she confirmed. "Thanks, Philip."

"Anytime, Breanne," he answered.

While she waited for Frank to arrive at the front door, she continued to clean up the mess she and Noah had been busy making all day.

It only took a few minutes for the Reagan patriarch to arrive at the door, announcing his presence with a short knock on the door to the apartment.

She smoothed out her shirt, glanced at her reflection in the refrigerator and fixed a few stray hairs then went to answer the door.

"Mr. Reagan," she greeted with a smile, opening the door wide for him. "Please come in."

Frank immediately felt at ease when he saw the young woman. "Thank you," he nodded, stepping inside. "I'm sorry for just dropping by like this."

"Don't worry about it," she insisted. "We were just cleaning up." She motioned for him to follow her into the apartment. He slid off his dress shoes and followed. "Would you like something to drink?"

"I don't want to be a bother," he said, admiring the space, just like Jamie had done.

"It's no trouble at all," she insisted.

"Water would be nice," he obliged. "Thank you." He wandered towards the large windows and French doors that lead to the planted terrace. "You have a beautiful home."

Breanne smiled. "Thank you." She walked over to him, Noah now trailing closely behind her.

Frank noticed the little boy trying to hide behind his mother's legs and couldn't help but smile. "You must be Noah." The boy nodded shyly, clinging to his mother. Frank crouched down to be eye level with the boy. He held out his hand. "I'm Nicky's grandpa, Frank."

Recognition crossed Noah's face. "Do you know Jamie?" he asked quietly.

"I do. Jamie is my son."

Finally, Noah reached out and shook Frank's hand cautiously.

"That's a mighty strong hand shake, Noah. You must eat all your vegetables."

He nodded proudly. "Yeah! My mom says I have to if I want to grow up to be big and strong!"

"I told my kids that too, but they didn't always listen," he smiled.

"They should've believed you! You're tall!" Noah reasoned. He suddenly felt comfortable enough to step out fully from behind his mother. "Mom said she's short because she didn't eat her vegetables, so she was hit with the….with the…." He looked up at his mom with curious eyes, tapping his index finger against his lips. After a moment, he gave up trying to remember. "What were you hit with?"

Frank looked up in amusement and she chuckled. "The short stick, sweetie. I didn't eat my vegetables, so I was hit with the short stick."

Frank laughed heartily.

"For the record, I'm lobbying for the word short to be banned. I prefer vertically challenged." She ruffled Noah's hair.

Frank laughed again. He looked over to the corner where Noah's toys were scattered around. "Is that your play area?" Noah nodded again and wandered towards his toys. "It looks like a lot of fun. You're really lucky to live here."

"I'm ready to move," he asserted.

"Why?" Frank questioned, glancing up at Breanne.

"Mom said when we get to our new home, I can get a puppy."

She dropped her head, exasperated, and pinched the bridge of her nose. "I said we'll talk about it." She moved away from Noah's play area and sat down in a chair near the window. Frank followed. "Have a seat, Sir."

"Please call me Frank," he requested. "So it sounds like you aren't totally convinced about the idea of getting a puppy."

"The timing has to be right. Ideally," she nodded her head at Noah, who was happily playing with his train set, "he'd be big enough to take the dog to the park for a walk when I don't feel like it, but I doubt I'll be able to put him off that long. I'll probably crack long before he's old enough for that!" She chuckled.

Frank chuckled as well, remembering the dogs that he and his wife had owned over the years that their children had loved so dearly.

"I told him that once we were moved in and settled into our new place, we'd start looking for the perfect dog…I repeatedly said that we probably wouldn't find the perfect dog right away, but I don't think he heard me because he was so excited. We were supposed to be in our new place back in April. Needless to say, he was devastated when I told him that we wouldn't be moving in quite yet."

"What happened?"

"It was an accident. Long story short: A few weeks before the apartment was supposed to be finished, there was a fire. The main living area's had to be gutted because the damage was so severe. Some of the rooms would've escaped both fire and smoke damage, but weren't spared because of a malfunctioning sprinkler system."

"Sounds like a nightmare," he agreed.

"It was," she nodded. "I had already found buyers for our old apartment, so staying there wasn't an option. The only places available for rent or even purchase on such short notice were either horribly over-priced or incredibly dirty and unsafe. I told Tom, my General Contractor, to pull his guys off gutting our burnt out home and to double the team working on this place," she motioned to the space around them. "I had bought this place as a flip. That's what I do."

Frank's brows knitted together. "I thought Nicky said something about fashion."

"Ultimately, that's where my heart is. But it takes a lot of time and energy to create and build a brand. I had it all planned out and then my life took a few unexpected turns. Next thing I knew, I was pregnant. It took a while, but I think I've figured it out. I want my son to see me working hard to provide him with a good life. But I am still working towards my ultimate goal of being a designer."

"That's very admirable."

"There's nothing I wouldn't do for my son," she said, looking him directly in the eyes. "Half the reason I decided to be a Flipper was because it would allow me to be creative. The other half of the reason was because I needed to keep my son close. It allowed me to set my own hours and be a full-time mother to him, to keep him safe."

"I understand."

She nodded her head. "I know you do," she answered softly. "If you didn't, you wouldn't be here." She shifted in her seat so she sat on the edge of the chair, leaning her elbows on her knees. "I've known Erin and Nicky for a while now. They've always told me that every Sunday, when you all sit down for dinner, the conversation inevitably turns to the family business."

"Guilty as charged," he offered a small smile.

"I'm sure that even if you weren't the Police Commissioner, you would know about Jamie's assignment. It's because of this reason that I'm pretty confident he filled you in on the conversation we had last night when he came to pick Nicky up."

Frank nodded his head once again.

"I don't really know your son," she sighed. "But I do know that from the few, brief meetings I had with him, excluding the brief time I thought he was some jerk named Johnny, I thought he was a nice guy. Not to brag or anything, but I think I usually have pretty good instinct," she was glad to see him smile genuinely. "I assume that the reason you're here is because you want to make sure that I have no intention of risking Jamie, or the investigation."

Frank sat in silence for a moment, grateful this woman was intuitive and direct. "That is correct on both accounts."

She held his gaze and without blinking, answered: "I won't say a word. Not to anyone. Not even Erin. Jamie told me that she doesn't know."

Frank chuckled. "She does now. I told her. After Jamie confided in me that he'd confided in you, I needed to get her take on this situation. I have to tell you, both she and my granddaughter think very highly of you."

"But you still needed to check me out for yourself," she smiled.

He returned the smile easily and nodded. "I hope you're not offended."

"Not at all," she assured him.

"Good. Anyway, I should get going. I have some work to look over yet tonight and morning always comes faster than I'd like."

"For me too," she agreed.

He stood up from his chair. "I didn't mean to take up so much of your time."

"You didn't. I'd have done the same thing if I were you. I hope I was able to put your mind at ease."

"You did," he smiled. As they walked towards the door, Frank paused behind the couch where Noah was now reclining quietly. "It was nice meeting you, Noah."

"It was nice meeting you, too," the little boy yawned.

Frank chuckled. "Sweet dreams."

"You too," he answered again on auto pilot, snuggling into the cushions a little more.

"I'll be back in a minute, baby," she whispered, dropping a kiss on the top of his head. He mumbled an acknowledgement, his eyelids becoming heavier and heavier.

As Frank headed towards the door, he knew that Noah would sleep soundly that night and so would he.

TBC...

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