Sam's socked feet hit the floor as he hears a tiny nearly imperceptible squeal. By the light of the moon he lifts a tiny boy from a basinet near the bed. He plants a warm kiss on his temple, and tiptoes from the room. In the kitchen he sways from side to side as the bottle warms to the perfect temperature. A pair of eyes are suddenly staring up at him.
"I heard your protests. See, old dad is filling your bottle right now." He yawns as he secures the lid on the bottle. They glide to the sitting room. Sam tosses a burp rag over his shoulder as the little guy stares at him with a pair of sleepy grey eyes as he begrudgingly slurps down the formula.
"Day six, and we are on formula number three. I know this stuff tastes terrible, but you have to eat something."
In less than an hour Sam is securing the dozing newborn back to his basinet. He quietly climbs beneath the covers in an effort not to wake his wife. His head has hardly hit the pillow as Cassie hops out of bed as if she's on her way to a fire. Her fingers graze his shoulder as she grabs the burp rag from its resting place. She scoops the little guy up just in time to capture his spit up. Sam flips on the lamp.
"His clothes are in the dryer. I switched them over when I was downstairs in anticipation of this. We can't keep this up. We are running out of clothes. We can always get more of those, but he's barely keeping anything down. I kept him upright for a full thirty minutes after his feeding."
By the time Sam gets home from work the following evening he finds Abigail in the kitchen pulling lasagna out of the oven whilst baby Callen subtly swings nearby.
"I tried holding him in every position I possibly could. I tucked him in the swing to get the lasagna in the over. In came in this morning, and George was kind enough to assemble it. He's been asleep for an entire hour."
"Where's Cassie?"
"I sent her up to nap."
"The case worker scheduled court for mid-December."
"Do things typically move this quickly?"
"No. It is rare that they do, but fortunately for us the little guy's mama named us as who she wanted to place him with, and the search has verified no living relatives that would have any legal claim to him."
"Cassie wasn't in much of a talking mood when she got home."
"Thanks for lending us a hand. It's been a lifesaver."
"You know I can't keep the wolves from the door forever."
"I am officially off for FMLA starting now. We just need a few weeks to get settled in."
"I understand. I am going to head home."
"Thanks, Abigail."
Sam's glance bobs to the newborn peacefully sleeping in his swing, to the fresh lasagna on the counter. It's been days since he's made it through an uninterrupted meal. He scoops a helping of lasagna onto the plate, and takes a seat at the kitchen counter. Cassie materializes as he scoops a second helping onto another plate.
"You're just in time."
"It's so quiet. Did you send the baby with Abigail?"
"The swing came today. He's over there asleep," he points.
"I don't even care if this burns the roof of my mouth, I just want it to be a temperature other than cold."
"I think we have time to let it cool off a bit. How was the pediatrician today?"
"He gave us more formula samples."
"You don't sound optimistic."
"He pointed out that he may show improvement on breast milk."
"I can check with my contacts in the nursery to see if they have any insights to the milk bank."
Days, and nights flow one into the other in a blur. Suddenly one morning Sam rises to find Cassie's side of the bed empty. He locates Callen in the basinet, as he glances at the clock. It's after five o'clock. Without a second thought he tiptoes from the room to the kitchen. He finds Cassie in the kitchen puttering around.
"What are you doing down here?"
"Putting the turkey in the oven," she answers.
"Turkey?" He scratches his head.
"Sam, today is Thanksgiving. Grace, and Nick are due home anytime."
Sam glances at the scene before him. There is baby stuff as far as the eye can see.
"That can't be right. We've only been at this a few days."
"It's been weeks."
"He's still asleep. Did you put some valerian root in his milk?"
"I have certainly been tempted."
Before the conversation can carry on a knock on the kitchen door elicits their attention. Sam shoots Cassie a questioning look. She responds with a shrug. Sam pulls open the door, and Martha wanders in.
"What are you doing here?"
"I can live in denial no longer. I think we all know that there is very little that gets by me as mayor. I know the two of you are in possession of Grey House's newest member, and I am here to offer respite."
Cassie, and Sam fall silent.
Martha continues, "Tom, and Claire are currently hogging my kitchen. I can only imagine that with a howling newborn that the pair of you are up to your full steam. I have come to assist you with your dinner preparations."
Sam looks at Cassie. "I am not going to turn down the offer when I know that your pumpkin pie is involved."
Martha's eyes dance, "Splendid. I'll get to work."
"I am going to try to get this place back in order," Sam sighs as he disappears from the kitchen.
"Where is your little nugget?" Martha queries.
Cassie points to the baby monitor, "He is upstairs in his bed. This is the first night he's slept more than an hour at a time. We are on hour number five."