A harvest moon hangs high in the dark sky. The light above the entrance of Grey house has been snuffed out by the owner on her way up the stairs. The only light illuminating the scene of pumpkins, and mums, and an assortment of decorations is that from gentle moonbeams. Fog begins to rise offering the Halloween scene a hint of mysticism everyone craves in Middleton.

Inside all of the party guests have departed for the evening. The bed and breakfast is uncharacteristically empty for the occasion. As Cassie exits the bathroom in charcoal and navy flannel pajamas she finds her partner in crime passed out beneath the covers with a book against his chest. She gently peels the glasses from his face, and the book from his grip.

She climbs beneath the same pile of blankets, and extinguishes the light from her lamp. Her head hits the pillow. She should be sleeping in a matter of moments. Her heart begins to race as she stares up at the ceiling for a moment. Her ears strain to hear a muffled distant sound. The tiny mew comes from outside. She nudges her husband from his slumber with an elbow.

"Hmm? I'm awake."

"Sam, shh! Do you hear that?"

He sits up, and strains. A furrowed brow meets her glance, "It sounds like a kitten."

"We should go investigate. It is supposed to frost tonight. We can't leave it outside overnight."

"Fine," he reluctantly agrees as he peels off the duvet.

Downstairs he flips on the outside light. They pull open the door, and glance at the doorstep. The mewing sound emanates from a wicker basket covered with a white towel.

"What kind of person would leave a kitten on our doorstep?" He shakes his head in disbelief.

Cassie lifts off the towel, and immediately scoops out the contents.

"It's not a kitten."

He watches as all the color drains from her cheeks. He ushers her inside. She tucks the tiny creature into her shirt. Wordlessly she makes her way into the kitchen, and begins running warm water in her empty sink. Sam disappears around the corner, and returns with a handful of towels, and washcloths.

"What kind of human being leaves a baby on our doorstep?"

Cassie shakes her head, "I don't know, but we've got to get this little one warmed up. Who knows how long they've been sitting out there."

"Do you want to hold while I bathe, or vice versa?"

"You hold, I'll bathe," she answers.

Sam marvels as Cassie wipes away the fluid from the baby's skin, dries him, and swaddles him in a clean towel in record time.

"I have a pair of hemostats, and bandage sheers in my bag. That cord needs some attention. It looks as if it was cut with kitchen scissors, and not very well."

"What do you want to clamp it with?"

"What did you do with those tiny folding chip clip I told you we would never find a use for?"

"In the utensil drawer."

Moments later he has remedied the concerning cord. The tiny little one continues to wail. Sam consults the lost, and found cabinet where he finds a random diaper left by a previous guest.

"I would like to do a better assessment on the little guy."

"Grab your gear, and I'll get him settled."

As Sam leaves the room she un-swaddles the baby, and places him against her chest.

"Listen little one," she coos as she begins to turn down the lights, "I know it is bright, and cold, and scary out here. Listen to the sound of my heart. I'm going to keep you safe," she adds as she gently caresses his back. By the time Sam returns with his stethoscope the little guy is quiet. He expeditiously, yet quietly listens. When he's satisfied he hangs the stethoscope around his neck. He exhales, and drinks in his beautiful pajama clad with a baby nestled against her chest.

"What are we going to do about this?"

"We should probably call the police," she answers with a twinge of pain in her voice.

He shakes his head, "That isn't what I meant."

The wrinkles on her forehead V as her eyebrows dance, "What do you mean?"

"What are we going to do about the look in your eyes?"

"The look of exhaustion from preparing all day for a party, and dancing too long in my heels? Perhaps the hint of a headache that throbs behind my eyes from not hydrating enough?"

"The way your eyes sparkle while holding a baby close to your skin. I can see your wheels turning. Most of all I can see your heart bursting open. Deep inside a yearning for a moment that has long passed."

"We should call Derek."

"It could probably wait until morning."

"What are you planning on doing until then?"

"We could just enjoy this moment."