Hello all! It's been a hectic few weeks since I last updated. I was actually going to hold off on posting this chapter until next month, but Taylor Swift released The Tortured Poets Department: The Anthology and it has destroyed me with so many emotions - so naturally I thought I'd let all of you feel all the emotions too.

I'm working very hard to get this story completed, but it's getting harder because I know it's almost over. I hope you guys are enjoying it - and at least crying a little bit... ;)

"Shit!" She cursed under her breath, trying to fan the smoke starting to waft up from the oven - with her hands - before it reached the smoke alarm. Grabbing the handle, "Shit!" She pulled back and winced at the tiny burn to her thumb as she opened the oven to retrieve the charred contents.

Before she could even close the door with her foot, he raced out into the hallway, franticly rubbing the sleep from his eyes in a panic of rushed words, "What's wrong? What's going on? You okay?"

With a nod, Amy tossed the pan on the counter, showcasing the casualty of her attempts to make breakfast, to him. He stifled a laugh pursing his lips inward. "Don't say it!" She chuckled, tossing her oven mitts on the counter next to the blackened mounds of dough. He raised his hands in surrender, watching her walk over to the trash can in the corner and dispose of the ruined biscuits, "I tried to make those homemade biscuits you like, but -" gesturing to the trash, "obviously that's out."

Picking up the oven mitts, Ricky raised a brow slightly, "Why were you making them?"

Her cheeks flushed, embarrassed, "... because they're your favorite..." mumbling through a shy smile, "I wanted to thank you for coming out here for me -"

Taking her hand, he stopped her rambling, his lip twitching into a smile, "You don't have to do anything special for me, Ames. Just being here - with you and our kids - is enough." Her eyes landed on his, fingers lingering against his palm - a tiny shot of invisible electricity charging the air between them. He felt it too, swallowing quickly to cover it up, and cocking his head at the phone resting on the counter, "So what recipe were you following exactly?"

Palm to her forehead, she shook it, "I don't know, I just found the first one listed - some lady named Paula Dean made it."

With a slow nod, he quickly scrolled the screen with his eyes, brow furrowing, "Who puts white wine in biscuit dough?"

Snapping her head towards the device, she gripped it to get a better look, eyes widening with a huff, "Probably the same person who adds olive oil to it."

"I think we found the issue," He stated, handing the phone back to her, while he slid behind her and started gathering the materials from the cabinets and refrigerator.

15 minutes later

"Come on, Juergens, you can do better than that! Get in there!" He instructed, trying to hide his amusement at his ex's poor attempts at kneading the dough correctly. She was slapping it and pushing it into a higher mound, but getting nowhere in actually shaping it; her fingers barely applying pressure. "You're not even trying, are you?"

"I am!" She defended herself, sinking her fingertips in further, "It's not as easy as it looks! Dough is hard!"

"Pretend you're giving it a massage - dig in there." Obeying, she started to rub harder, practically strangling it as if it were to be an actual person. He chuckled, "If you're going to be that aggressive, at least take it to dinner first, Ames." Waggling his eyebrows with a smirk.

Hitting his side with her hip, she scoffed, "You're a terrible teacher."

He chuckled again, standing behind her, "Hey don't blame me because you're a hard-headed student." Putting his hands into the mound on the counter to assist her, their hands brushed inside the dough. His chin caught the edge of her ear, the heat from her body against his making his heartbeat quicken and his breath hitch, willing away the impulses from the lower half of his body. Her back stiffened slightly when her fingers brushed his again, and her eyes rose to find his already on her, chest starting to flutter at the speck of yellow in them that he shared with their son.

Without thought, their lips connected softly before fighting for dominance; the electric pulse of the air radiating with her low moan into his mouth; struggling to free her hands from the gooey mound.

A light giggle floated into the room, little barefooted feet pittering alongside the wide grin plastered on his small face.

They broke away quickly, but not quick enough to invade his curious eyes peering at them from the hallway. "Uh, hey -" Ricky coughed with a squeak, "Hey buddy, why are you up so early?"

John shrugged nonchalantly, raising his elbows near his head, "I jus n-ot s-leep-y ne-more."

Nodding at his son's explanation, "I see," he removed his hands from the dough, and ran them under the faucet until all the mess was washed away, "What about your sister?"

The boy raised a brow at them, toying with the strings of his pants, pointing to the bedroom where a mumbled cry had started to pierce the quiet apartment; his bare chest rising and falling quickly with a big yawn as his father passed by him to attend to his sister. "Wh-at th-at, Mommy?" He asked a few seconds later, watching his mother play with a giant glob of what looked like Play-Doh.

With a giggle, Amy shot the hair from her face with a flick of her head, "It's supposed to be those really good homemade biscuits that daddy made for us a few times when I was pregnant with Emma, but -" freeing her hand, "Mommy isn't as good at making them - do you want to help me?"

Nodding vigorously, John wasted no time in skipping over to the table and pushing a chair across the floor with a screech, until it hit the cabinets under the counter with a thud. Hopping on it, he stood and cocked his head at her, "Wh-at n-ow?" Touching the dough with the tip of his finger, he yanked his hand back with a giggle, "It sq-wish-y! Poking it again, he wrinkled his nose, "It is jus soooo sq-wishy, mommy!"

She chuckled at the look of disgust on his face, "That's because it's not made yet, silly! We need to roll the dough into balls and put them on the pan -" Quickly grabbing his hand, "No!" and shoving it away from his mouth, "No, we can't eat that!" His arms immediately braced across his chest, pouting and recoiling at her touch. She sighed, "I'm sorry, buddy - I didn't mean -" apologetic that she had yelled at him when he had done nothing wrong, "It's raw, John. We can't eat it or else it'll make us sick - okay?" Her voice was gentle, tipping his chin up with a finger. He nodded slowly, his lips still set in a pout. Taking a lopsided doughball from the counter, she held it out to him, demonstrating, "But we can roll them up and pat them - see, like this-"

His eyes grew wide at her actions, squealing, "W-ike the s-wong!"

Nodding, her brow furrowed in confusion, "What song? Did you learn a new song at school?"

Without looking, he nodded and pressed down on the dough in his hand, patting it and swaying, "A-dwin jus te-eched me! Me and Em-ma, she jus te-eched us th-at s-wong!"

Her mouth opened to continue their conversation but was stopped by the shrill squealing of giggles serenading the hallway as Ricky threw their baby gently into the air and caught her repeatedly until they reached the edge of the counter. "Good morning, peanut!" Amy smiled at them, blowing her a kiss.

Smiling at their daughter's little hand flexing in an attempted wave, Ricky kissed her temple, "Little miss just said a new word -"

"Mama?" Her face lit up, hopeful, but quickly fell in disappointment at his subtle shake

"Sorry Ames..." his voice trailed, giving her a sympathetic glance, before adjusting the baby starting to wiggle in his arms, "Watch this -" Gently, his fingers grabbed at the stuffed dog clutched in her tiny hand, "Can I have it? Emma, can daddy have the doggy?"

With a small grunt, Emma's squealy little lips parted and declared, "Mine!" Grasping the stuffed animal tightly and brought it to her cheek, letting her curls cover it as she tilted her head to hug it. "Mine!" She squealed again, softer, puckering her lips to kiss it.

John beamed at his sister, raising his arms above his head. Ricky chuckled at their son, before giving their daughter another kiss on the head and placing her on a blanket on the floor. "This shouldn't surprise me. She hears that word daily..."

Catching his glance, Amy opened her mouth to protest, "Hey, don't look at me."

He chuckled again, walking over to the counter to relieve the tot of dough duty, "I can take over now, buddy."

"I g-ot it!" John responded casually with a shrug of his shoulders, jumping onto the countertop to get a better grip on the dough.

"You heard him, Daddy." She giggled, moving the pan over a few inches so he could sit comfortably.

Furrowing his brow, Ricky feigned hurt, "Wow... replacing me with a miniature version of myself, huh? I see how it is."

Shaking her head, she scoffed playfully, nudging his side with her shoulder, "I'm pretty sure you did that all on your own. I just birthed him."

Left brow rising, "Uh huh, and how might I have done that?" She repeated his action, looking between him and their son who was also mimicking them. "Okay - you win." Clicking his tongue in the defeat of his own words, he nodded and tousled John's mess of bedhead hair, "I'll leave you two to it then." Stepping over the baby busy babbling with her foot shoved into her mouth, he made his way to the sofa and pulled over the backpack lying against the side, gathering some clothes into his hands, "Mind if I...?"

"So polite and formal." Amy chuckled with a shy smile, "You don't have to ask, I'm not going to say no..." With a small nod, he made his way towards the hallway, turning slightly on his heel to catch her staring at him. A blush came to her cheeks, turning her attention to their son busy slapping the dough like a bongo drum and dancing along to the made-up beat. Pursing his lips in thought, Ricky gave her a knowing look - his eyes saying what he couldn't: he wanted her to join him. The blush in her cheeks got darker, placing her left hand over her mouth to keep from giggling and shield the naughty smirk forming on her lips at the thoughts of his naked body invading her mind.

When she heard the bathroom door close, she bit her lip and turned her attention back to the task at hand. "You think they're ready to go into the oven?" With a finger tapping his chin, John nodded quickly and started hopping in place, causing Emma to cackle through a squeal.

"L-ook! Daddy, it's a Li-on!" He beamed, bouncing on the balls of his sneakers, "Mommy, mommy -" pointing at the large animal lying lazily atop a big boulder, his grin widening, "It's jus on a b-wig rw-ock!"

"We see that buddy," Ricky chuckled, taking the squirmy baby from his ex's arms, and sighing at their son's insistence to run over to the next exhibit, despite their scolding to stay put.

Grasping the chain link fence with his fingers, "Oohhh, deez li-ons jus run sooooo fa-ast!" He clapped to himself in excitement.

Adjusting her hair to sit at the top of her head in a messy bun, Amy put her hands on his shoulders, "That's not a lion, John. Those are cheetahs."

John's head snapped up to look at her, confusion settling in his features, "... a cheee-to?"

She giggled, "No, silly! A cheetah. It's like the lions, but different. See - it says right here -" gesturing to the golden sign next to the fence, "It says Cheetahs use their speed to catch their prey - Lions use their strength." With a nod, he removed his fingers from the fence and sprinted to the next animal a few feet away, making both his parents give each other an exhausted look before following him.

It had been a few hours since they had gotten there, and in that time they had only managed to visit half the exhibits. The zoo was much too large to see every single animal, and the crowds weren't helping. John's adrenaline kept him going, but Emma was waning - desperately needing a nap that kept getting interrupted by a shrieking child, or a loud animal.

After seeing another 6 animals that all resembled each other, John's clompy footsteps led them to a hut-like structure, with a big, bright green sign reading "REPTILE HOUSE".

"Dis one, mommy! I wanna go hwere!" He stated passionately, pointing to the sign.

Amy grimaced, quickly looking to his father for help. His eyes met hers before shifting to their over-eager toddler, knowing how much she hated anything with scales and that he would have to be the one to brave it. "John, honey, maybe we should do something else..."

"No!" He started to pout, "I wanna go hwere! Dis pwace l-ooks f-un!"

She bit her lip nervously but sighed in relief when Ricky scooped him up by the waist and carted him towards the entrance - mumbling something inaudible under his breath. "Jaaaa!" Emma screeched after them, wiggling to free herself from her mother's grasp. Blowing out a breath, she hiked her further up her hip, regretting not bringing the "kangaroo pouch" Ricky and John called it, with them. Emma was antsy, and keeping her grasp on her was getting more difficult. Taking a seat on a bench next to the hut, Amy situated her comfortably on her lap, the baby's whiny protests causing her to sigh again, wishing they would hurry up and come back.

"I c-ant see. It t-oo d-wark in hwere, daddy." John grasped onto his leg tighter with each step they took, slowing them down behind the other members of the crowd.

Upon entering the exhibit, he was excited, but getting further into it, the eyes of the reptiles met him and he became increasingly anxious. Ricky could tell because his breathing had started to quicken and the grip he held on his pant leg was so tight, he could feel his nails digging into his calf. Coming up on a brightly colored pane of glass, they took a step forward, John's grip loosening slightly at seeing his reflection mirrored in shades of red and blue.

Taking a few steps closer, he placed his hands on the glass, pressing his face close enough to see what was shielded behind. There, staring back at him, was a large snake; its hood out as it stood up and peered directly into his eyes before it struck the glass. He jumped back suddenly, losing his balance and hitting the ground on his bottom, shrieking in terror and clambering for his father's rescue. Ricky scooped him up, shushing his cries while patting his head in reassurance that he was okay.

"Daaaaa!" Emma squawked, throwing down the banana puffs in her fingers, bucking her body to get down against her mother's grip on her legs, and tossing her head back to aid in the tantrum. Thankfully, they appeared just as she was about to give in and let the baby crawl around her feet, but upon seeing them and hearing their sons shrieking, her brow creased in worry.

He saw her face contort and quickly explained the situation, "He's fine. Just scared." Swapping children between each other, she scrunched his hair between her fingers. "I guess he shares your fear of snakes."

Pouting her lips in sympathy at him, Amy snuggled him tighter against her body, "I'm sorry, baby. Those snakes are mean, huh?" Through a hard sniffle, John hiccuped on his cries and nodded. She gave Ricky a hard glance as if to say it was his fault without actually having to say it aloud. He took the dig, swaying their other shrieking child in his arms silently. After another few sniffles, he regained enough composure to lift his head off of her shoulder. She brushed the hair from his eyes, her hand lingering on his wet cheek. "Should we go get some ice cream? Will that make it better?"

Rubbing his eye with a closed fist, he nodded slowly, "yeh..."

She nodded along with him, pressing her forehead to his, "Ice cream makes everything better, right?"

He nodded again, whispering, "Choc-o-wat is jus the g-oo-dest..."

She looked up at his father, "Thoughts?"

Ricky shrugged, tossing the baby in the air to try to get her to calm down, "Lead the way."

"Cookies, or sprinkles?" The man asked, scooping various toppings onto a plastic spoon.

"Yes!" He answered excitedly, rising on his tiptoes to get a better look at the treats.

Chuckling, "Just give us all the toppings I guess." Looking down at him and tousling his hair, "That sounds yummy, doesn't it?" He nodded vigorously, taking hold of her hand and shaking it impatiently. "Thank you." She smiled at the teen, taking the desserts from his hands and venturing over to the table where her ex was making their daughter cackle by standing her up on his legs and blowing on her stomach.

Ricky's grin widened when they sat down across from him. "Daddy, I g-ot cwocowate!" Beaming, John held up a large cup with a spoon sticking out for his father to see.

He nodded, raising a brow as the tot took the first bite and squealed in giddy. "Good, huh?" Taking a bite of his vanilla and sprinkled cone while carefully maneuvering it away from Emma's grabby hands, "Go get mommy's!" Ricky chuckled, accepting her scowl at the suggestion and putting the spoon to her mouth, "Are you eating beads?"

"What? No, it's Dip-N-Dots." Amy scoffed, dipping her spoon into the cup, "You know, the little ice cream shaped like balls?" Her brow rose, at the confusion playing on his face, "Wait - You've never heard of these?" Shaking his head slowly, her eyes widened in surprise, "These were my absolute favorite as a kid -" Taking a bite, "Mimzy would always get them for me and Ashley whenever we spent time with her." She moved the spoon, "Here -" holding it up to his mouth. He cocked a brow, hesitant. She giggled, "Oh come on, we had babies together." Tilting the spoon higher, "I don't have cooties, Ricky - just take a bite-" His lips parted slightly, but didn't accept. She blew out a breath, quirking a brow, "Do I need to get the airplane?"

Rolling his eyes at her mockery, Ricky finally accepted, letting the spoon filled with the white and black bead-like substance hit his tongue. With a nod, he swallowed, "It's good." Her eyes lit up at her accomplishment, leaning back against the wooden seat, "Right! It's like the perfect little ball of ice cream heaven! Genius!" Licking his lips, he cracked a smile, staring into her eyes for a few stand-alone seconds.

John's hands stilled on his spoon, breaking the trace his parents seemed to be lost in with a shriek, "Uh oh... Em-ma!"

Breaking eye contact, their gazes quickly went to their youngest child perched on his left knee, drenched in a mixture of saliva and melted vanilla ice cream. "Crap!" Ricky's head lowered, blowing a breath from his cheeks as the dessert slid down her chin.

Amy's eyes widened, pitching her voice with her hands held out in front of her, "What did you do, peanut? Huh? Did you take Daddy's ice cream?"

Giving her mother a mischievous look that matched that of a certain shaggy blonde, Emma put her right hand to her mouth licking in delight, eyes squinted, "Ahhh!"

"You were supposed to get mommy's, not mine!" He sighed, maneuvering the sugar-crazed infant carefully so her mess wouldn't cover him as he rose to stand, accepting the diaper bag his ex handed to him across the table.

The sticky substance cascaded down the front of her outfit, the pink overalls being coated in brightly colored sprinkles, making her kick her legs with amusement, and clap with excitement, "Mine! Mine! Mine!"

Waiting until they were away from the table, John leaned back slowly, digging his spoon further into his treat, "Em-ma jus mak-ed a bwig m-ess!" Furrowing his brow with a sharp scold at her leaning over and taking the bite he was about to take, "Hey!"

Amy pursed her lips to keep the ice cream - coated in way too many toppings - from coming out of her mouth, nodding, "Mmm, that is good!"

"Look, peanut - monkeys!" She squealed, hiking the squirmy infant higher on her chest, pointing with enthusiasm, "See - right there -" grinning at her wide eyes, "What do the monkeys say? Oohh oohh ahh ahh!"

Flailing her arms, Emma bobbed her head along with an excited growl "Ooooo! Oooo!"

Beside them, perched atop his dad's shoulders because he just couldn't handle the walk anymore - claiming his feet were about to fall off - John giggled at his sister, keeping his grip on their father's ears, "Do deez monk-eys jus wike b-nanas, mommy?"

She raised a brow, keeping her focus on a monkey in the corner that she kept pointing at before pecking Emma's neck in ticklish kisses that caused her to squeal-scream, "Don't all monkeys like bananas? Including this one!"

"Em-ma n-ot a monk-eyyy!" He cackled back, swiping the hair out of his eyes.

Ricky chuckled, bracing his hand securely across the boy's back, and swiping his body across his torso, "You sure? Because I think you might be one too!" Digging his fingertips into John's sides before his feet hit the ground; suspended by his grip upside down.

"Noo-ooo I n-nott-tt!" The tot protested through a screech of giggles, pawing at his hands.

After seeing the monkey exhibit, they made their way to a larger hut off to the left side of the walkway. This one was much bigger and significantly colder. The sign at the gate read "Brrrr, please bring a coat, our animals like it cold in here!"

"Nice way of saying we'll become human popsicles..." Amy mumbled lowly, folding her arms tighter across their daughter's body to trap their body heat. Without a moment of hesitation, he removed the hoodie he was wearing and took the baby from her, wrapping her up inside his arms. She smiled at him, letting her eyes linger a bit too long for the toddler's impatience.

"W-ets go, mommy!" John grabbed her hand and started sprinting towards the entrance, nearly pulling her to the ground in the process.

A few minutes later...

"It c-wold in hwere!" He whined, taking hold of the hoodie sleeve and rubbing his face against it.

"You wanted to see the polar bears, remember?" She responded, trying to keep her teeth from chattering. Ricky and Emma were ahead of them by a few feet, closer to the exit and the warmth, while she and John were still standing at the river otter exhibit, watching as they dived in and out of the icy water; John's grin getting wider each time.

A high-pitched squeal broke the toddler's focus, now racing over to join his father and sister without her. Catching up, she pursed her lips - hiding the shy smile coming to them. They were all standing by the penguin exhibit - Ricky's favorite animal. His eyes were lit up, watching them waddle and squawk about the icy space. Amy could see the goosebumps on his arms from the cold, but he didn't seem to mind, keeping his grip tight on their wiggling baby. John's eyes matched his, pointing to two penguins touching fins. Cocking his head and squinting, "Wh-at are dey jus do-in?" Looking up at his sister, "Dey jus hwo-den h-ands?"

A light chuckle floated through the air, "They're holding hands because they're together -" Ricky's eyes cut up to hers briefly, "... they're in love..."

She bit her lip affectionately, draping her arms over John's scrawny shoulders, "Did you know penguins are daddy's favorite?" He shook his head, sucking his bottom lip with his teeth, grasping his mom's palm, and then his dad's, and joining them together.

They both stared down at him, his dimples popping out of his cheeks making them smile. "What are you doing, buddy?" Ricky asked, not yet letting his hand fall.

He held their gazes, his eyes a twinkling speck of brown in the shadow of the glass, "Mommy and Daddy are jus in lov, t-oo!"

Ricky gulped at his words, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks. She too was blushing, trying not to make it obvious to both him and their inquisitive son. But still, neither one of them dropped their hands, continuing to lock fingers even after their eager toddler skipped ahead of them. Instead, they just laughed, shook their heads at his antics, and followed behind.

45 minutes later...

"I see dem! Mommy I see the po-der bwears!" He screamed excitedly, climbing up a step to get a better look, eyes wide, "Whoa!"

"You wanna see the polar bears?" She asked, taking her hand and shaking it lightly. Emma grunted tiredly, whining and reaching for her brother. "You want John?" Another grunt. "Let's go get John." Walking up to him, she tousled his hair, "Someone wants to hang out with you, bud," Sliding the restless infant down her body to wobble on her feet while she held her hands in hers. He looked over and grinned, accepting her from his mother and giggling when she started to slam the glass with her tiny palms, babbling away.

"Dos are jus b-wig po-dwer bwears! See!" John enthused, grasping her waist as she squealed and bounced seeing the majestic white bears peek from behind a rock.

Seeing they were content, Amy took a few steps back - both to snap a few pictures and to give them space to be alone together. She knew how hard it was for John to be away from Emma, so any sprinkle of time they could have together was worth taking a step back for.

"Any good ones?" Ricky asked a few moments later, leaning over to admire the images of their smiling children before a loud, howling cry sent them both sprinting to the steps.

"What happened?" Amy asked frantically picking the screeching baby up from the ground.

John shrugged, meeting his parent's curious and worried eyes, "I dunno! The - the po-der bwears jus c-om to sa-ay hi, and Em-ma jus fwall-ed down!"

Taking her from his ex at the insistence of her screeches for 'dada', Ricky kissed her head and rubbed her back soothingly, "Did you get scared by the Polar Bears, huh?" Emma responded with another howl, slamming her head onto his shoulder, completely done with everything, and needing a nap.

Scooping him up into her arms, "I think that's our cue to head home." Ricky nodded and led the way out of the exhibit and towards the sign that showcased a map of the park.

"I wanna rw-ide on the twain!" John pouted in protest, bucking against her body to aid in the tantrum he was getting ready to have.

Blowing a breath from his cheeks, he hung his head, checking his watch, "Okay, fine. We can ride the train - but after that, we're leaving... understand?" With a grin he nodded vigorously, and clapped, taking hold of his sister's hand to share in his giddy. She didn't reciprocate though, recoiling with a fussy whine and burrowing her face deeper into his shoulder.

After 15 more minutes of walking, while John aimlessly rambled about bugs he saw and what he was going to tell his friends at preschool about his adventure, they arrived at the train. Several of the cars were filled with people, each using binoculars to get better looks at the animals further off into the distance.

Ricky gave her a hesitant look, pointing to two empty pieces back to back, just as their son eagerly shrieked, pulling on her hand, "I wanna s-it in the b-lwue one!" Deciding that he would settle for the yellow one behind them, easier. Taking their seats, John nestled in close to her side, giggling at her ticklish fingers drawing invisible circles into his back when he wasn't shouting and pointing about all the animals they passed by.

Behind them sat Ricky, who against his best efforts, could not calm their youngest child down, finally gave in and just let her stand by herself on the seat, holding onto the bar while his hand hovered behind her. The people behind them didn't seem to mind though - with the boy, a little older than John, making funny faces at her to keep her docile through the majority of the ride.

Finally, the train came to a stop on a platform near the parking lot, the passengers stepping off one car at a time. The little boy waved at her before hopping down and skipping away. She giggled, taking his hand as he too hopped off and onto the platform, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Did you have a good time?" She asked him, picking him up into her arms.

He nodded vigorously, lifting both hands over his head, "It w-as jus so mwuch f-un!"

He smiled at his son, tousling his hair, "I'm glad, buddy." Catching her subtle sigh under her breath, he raised a brow slightly, "You okay?"

"Hmm? Oh - oh yeah, I'm fine..." She answered quickly, staring off towards the parking lot, "Just a little bummed I never got to see the elephants..."

Pursing his lips and giving a glance to his shoes, he gave a slight nod, knowing that elephants were Amy's favorite, and feeling bad that she never got to see them.

Putting her hand out, she smiled shyly at him, nervous about his reaction. He smiled back, letting the left dimple on his cheek show just as an elderly woman was crossing their path. "Excuse me -" He asked the woman, handing her his phone, "Would you mind taking a picture of us?"

Slightly taken aback by his ask, her lips parted enough to show her teeth but quickly turned up into a smile, nestling against their son who was all too eager to 'cheese' at the camera. They both chuckled and leaned in, Ricky adjusting their youngest to at least look in the camera direction before she started in on another tantrum.

"Oh, you're such a cute little family!" The woman beamed, snapping a few more before handing his phone back to him as he thanked her.

"I see! I see!" Extending his hand, he wiggled in her grasp, eager for the phone. Obliging, he gave it to him, pointing to the picture where he stuck his tongue out. He giggled, "Em-ma jus cwos-ed her eyes!"

Leaning in to get a better look, her lips parted again, "Is that -" using her fingers to zoom in, eyes wide at the animals roaming in the background of the images. "Elephants!" She beamed, quickly turning on her heel to see the exhibit, "Ricky! Look - elephants!"

Trying to look at her through the little hand grabbing at his eye, he too turned, his grin growing wider, "It must be your lucky day."

Admiring how the large elephant led the baby elephant behind her as they grazed by a rock, she gave him a tight squeeze, pecking his head, and touching her hand, "Thank you... for today..."

Smiling, he leaned over and kissed her hair, "No place I'd rather be." Lifting her head off his shoulder, and headbutting it into his chin, he sighed, "We have to get some food into this child before she ends up eating me."

Chuckling, she nodded and stroked her leg with her thumb, "Agreed. I'm starving."

"You're always starving - must he genetic!" He shot back playfully, smirking and wrapping his free arm around her shoulder as they strolled out of the park.

Setting the paper plates down in the center of the table, he plucked two forks from the dish drainer before sprinting to the door to answer the knock and handing the young teen a crisp twenty-dollar bill with a smile. Bringing the food back to the table and counting the containers, his brow rose as he checked his watch. It'd been over 30 minutes and she was still in the bathroom.

Setting the containers down on the paper plates, he ventured off towards the bathroom, where the squeals could be heard from behind the almost closed door. Not thinking anything of it, he opened it and stepped inside, the sight of her and their children filling him with genuine happiness.

Hearing the door open, she quickly twitched before going still, "They - they um, needed baths..." trying to find something to cover herself with, "And it was just easier this way."

He nodded, losing his voice at the sight of her half-submerged under an array of bubbles. Her hair pulled up to the top of her head, while her left knee bent to act as a barrier between the baby sitting on her stomach, and the wall, "Umm..." Her slight twitch caused the bubbles to disperse slightly, showing her right thigh and causing a small gasp to escape her lips, making him chuckle, "It's okay, Ames - Nothing I haven't seen before..." His eyes landed on hers, smirking. She blushed, biting the tip of her bottom lip to hide her smirk.

Lying back against the wall, he heard a soft moan pass her lips, eyes closed in a state of calm. He smiled at her, knowing she needed this because she had been pulling all the weight of taking care of John - who was battling a cold - while being sick herself and being pregnant.

Slipping in the room quietly, he took a seat on the edge of the tub and gently started messaging circles with his thumbs, into her tense shoulders, kissing the top of her head. She moaned again, causing him to chuckle lightly. "He's out for a little bit - the cold medicine I gave him started kicking in about 10 minutes ago." Nodding, she rolled her neck back to give him better access, his fingers gliding over the wet skin with ease. "How are you feeling?" He asked, removing one of his hands to put it on her stomach.

"Like I can't do anything," She sighed, resting her hand over his, sniffling "I wish I could make him feel better..."

He placed a gentle kiss on the top of her shoulder, "I know, Ames... but we gotta let it run its course. He'll be fine in a few days."

"It's not fair!" She pouted, "How come you never get sick! I'm over here looking like a blotchy blowfish, while you're fine!"

He chuckled at her irritation, "Good genetics, I guess?" Before leaning down to kiss her lips, "I love you."

Reciprocating, "I love you too," her wet hand caught his shirt, deepening their kiss, until she was slowly rising out of the tub and his hands were lowering down her skin until he got to her chest. "Wanna join me?" She breathed between kisses, rolling his shirt up into her hands until it reached just above his ribs. He nodded, sucking in a breath, taking one hand off her body to unfasten the button on his jeans and slide them down to the floor. Pressing his other hand against her exposed left breast, his thumb circled the nipple, causing her to gasp into his mouth. With the hand still on his clothing, he was about to tug the boxers down, just as a loud, beckoning cry screeched from the hallway, "Mommmyyyyyy!"

Pushing herself away from him, reluctantly, her head fell back with a groan, knowing her quiet evening was now over. He kissed her again, softer, "I got it." Removing his wet shirt from his body, and kicking the jeans to the other side of the room, "Don't go anywhere... this should only take a few minutes." Smirking before shutting the door behind him - the cries for her amplified when the door opened. "Mommmyyyyyyy!"

"Mommyyyy!" He squealed, splashing water at her to get her attention. She flinched, breaking the trance, blinking twice, and seeing his eyes staring back at her, a smile curled onto his lips. About to say something, another splash of soapy bubbles hit her legs. The infant sitting against her, squealed as it landed on her hand and wouldn't shake off, despite her ferocious flailing - sending a mixture of water and bubbles onto her face. He giggled at the suds coating her chin and cheeks, adding some more to her leg.

Chuckling, he situated himself better on the floor, leaning into the water and scooping a handful of bubbles into his palms, winking at his giddy son, "I think mommy needs more, buddy - " and blowing them right into her face. Her mouth opened slightly, eyes widening in disbelief before she shifted her weight and kicked a portion of the sudsy bathwater at him, soaking the top of his t-shirt. His brow rose, clicking his tongue to suppress the laughter, "Really?" She nodded, pursing her lips and matching his brow raise.

Within seconds an all-out war started; water and bubbles going everywhere as they both fought to drench the other one - the children cackling watching their parents act this way. His hair was soaked, water running down his face while she was submerged in a pool of bubbles and bath toys, not having much room to battle given the confined space.

After about 3 minutes of wreaking havoc on the bathroom, she collapsed in a fit of laughter against the side of the tub, holding her side as he did the same and slunk to the floor, trying to regain composure from laughing so much. On the other side of the tub, he watched with curious eyes, smiling at his little sister who simply gnawed on a bath toy with an exasperated whine.

Rising back up, he propped his elbows on the tub, catching her eyes. With a slight bite to his bottom lip, he reached up and scraped the sud off her left eyebrow.

Running her tongue over her bottom teeth to suppress the smile starting to twitch onto her lips, she raised her hand and caressed his chin, the suds sticking to his skin. His lips pursed, scoffing playfully. "I always wondered what you would look like with a beard."

Throwing his head back with a laugh, he pointed at him, "Daddy, jus h-av a bwubble bw-erd!" Scooping up a mound of suds and pressing them to his face with a grin, "Me too!"

"You're looking a little scraggly there, bud -" He noted, running his hand over his cheeks slowly, "Shave some off the bottom to even it out." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her bite her lip affectionately, her eyes raising while she coyly smiled, eliciting a playful, "What?"

She shrugged, fighting the urge to grab his neck and pull him to her, "... You look... cute" Flashing his dimples, he proudly fluffed up the suds, showing off his newest feature before a hard splash and an irritable whine cut through the moment; their 9-month-old flailing the water aggressively, causing the bubbles to disperse.

Swiping the soap from his face, he blew out a breath and scooped the tired baby up, pulling a towel from the bar by the sink and wrapping her up in it until the top of her head was sticking out. "I ordered us some take-out since they already ate, it's on the stove."

Gathering the bath toys into her hands, she chuckled, "Need a break from chicken nuggets and Mac & cheese, hmm?"

Rolling his eyes, he nodded, "You have no idea." Handing her a towel, "Plus... Chinese always puts me in a good mood."

Taking it from him, she smirked, "My hero..." Noticing how his eyes lingered on her partially covered body trying to climb out of the tub; the mixture of lust and affection swimming in their soft pool of brown. "I'll be out in a minute." She stated, flicking her wrist into the air to shoo him away - but the way her smirk widened and her cheeks flushed, the conviction behind her action was nonexistent: secretly wanting him to keep staring at her.

"Surely movies have come farther than this in all these years." He remarked, putting the empty carton on the nightstand with a shake of his head, "I mean, I know they're geared towards kids and all, but why on earth did they decide making a second one of these films, was a good idea? Was it not enough that the first one drove parents to utter insanity - they just had to make a second one that was significantly worse?"

She chuckled, bringing the last bite of the sweet and sour chicken to her mouth, "I thought it was cute!"

He scoffed, "What about that was cute? The first one made sense - a racecar losing his way and finding solace in friendship - but this? This one made no sense." Motioning towards the muted TV, "You're telling me kids would believe that that rusted pickup truck was a spy? In Italy of all places? No. No, it's ridiculous!" Another head shake, this one with mild disgust.

"I never knew you were so passionate about Cars." She continued to laugh, pointing the chopsticks at him, "Hey - maybe you can call Ashley and the two of you can voice your displeasure with it?"

"Yeah, sure - like Ashley would even waste a second on this. I don't think your sister would gravitate towards anything child-related - No offense."

"Yeah, you're probably right - If anything she'd probably just protest its development or something." They both busted out laughing at that statement, taking a few seconds as their hands rested on the mattress, inching closer and closer until their fingers locked together and his mouth molded against hers in a deep, passionate kiss.

A squeaky little grunt broke them apart; the infant pressed against her brother in the middle of the mattress, dropping her arm against his torso as he snored into her dark curls. Their eyes met before setting their gazes on their children, smiles on their faces. "It's amazing what being apart for this short amount of time, has done to their relationship..." She spoke softly, brushing her hand with her thumb.

He nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving them, "... John's dealt with a lot... we all have - but not having Emma there..." Drawing a breath, "It's taken a toll on him..."

Looking away, she brushed a tear away from her eye, whispering against her hand, "I'm sorry -"

"Don't be." He put his hand on her shoulder, "We're going to make it through this - all of us - and when they're older we'll explain to them why we did what we did. Okay?"

Nodding through a sniffle, she moved some hair away from his eyes, "... Do you ever wonder what they dream about?"

Following her gaze, he cracked a smile, "If I had to guess... John probably is dreaming about being a superhero - fighting all the bad guys to save the world..." tracing a circle into the sheets with his finger, "Emma... well... she's probably dreaming about food of some kind"

She giggled at his remark, tucking a curl behind her ear gently, "She does love food, doesn't she?"

His brow rose, "You kidding? Have you ever seen a baby attack a banana as fast as her?" Chuckling, "Our kid is a beast!" Sharing another laugh for a few seconds, the tone in the room shifted; becoming charged with a deep sigh that fell from his lips. "I think about it sometimes..." He whispered, lowering his eyes, "About more of them." Sucking in a breath, "Maybe in 5 or 6 years... I wouldn't mind trying for another one..." A few seconds of silence before he met her eyes and asked, "What about you?"

Taken aback by his confession, "I um -" she swallowed roughly, desperately trying to silence the screams trapped inside her body and mind. She couldn't lose it. Not now. Putting her focus back on them, she slid off the mattress and bent to gather the passed-out baby into her arms, avoiding his eyes as she stuttered, "I should p-probably g-get her to bed -"

Quickly stilling her hand to stop her, "She's fine - " He sighed heavily, running his hands across the denim of his jeans, "I have to know, Amy - Why -" Swallowing roughly, he lifted his gaze, "Why did you leave that night?" Watching as her arms fell slack against her sides and she stared at him with a blank expression. "I saw the test - I saw the results..." He sucked in a breath, "So why did you flee my apartment like you'd just seen a ghost?" A tear made its way down his cheek, his voice cracking as he swallowed back the hurt, "Was the idea of having another child with me so awful that you -"

"I - I - c-cant do this right now - I -" She ran out of the room, palm covering her mouth.

He followed behind, "Well I can. We have to talk about this eventually, Amy!" Catching her wrist and pulling her to him gently, he made sure he could see her eyes; needing to see the sparkle pooling within them, but instead met with tears that shimmered against her red cheeks. Another tear slid down his cheek, taking a step closer, "Don't tell me you don't think about trying again... about starting over..." He stated softly, raising a hand to her cheek and stoking it with the pad of his thumb, his breath slowing when she took a small step further; lips mere centimeters apart, "... Tell me you don't want this -" before smashing against each other; tongues fighting for dominance as her hand started raving his hair, and he held the back of her neck, driving his chest deeper against hers.

Feeling a slight brush of something against her thigh - the screams started again - causing her eyes to shoot open and place her hands on his chest, pushing away, "We - we can't -" She gasped slightly breathless, shaking her head, "We can't keep doing this!"

Running a hand through the curls that she had just tugged, he sighed, frustrated, "Do what? Be together again?" Glancing sadly down on his naked hand, "Amy - I've made my feelings clear - but every time I bring up the possibility of a future together again, you run for the door!" Taking a step forward, and putting a hand to his chest, "But I'm here! I'm here for you!" Sighing again, "Just give me something - "

"I can't!" She screamed angrily, "I can't give you want you want, Ricky!" Fists balled up at her sides, "I can't give you the picture-perfect family in your head because I'm broken, okay!" She sobbed, gripping the roots of her hair between her fingers on her right hand, "I can't give you more kids in the future because my body won't be able to handle it, and I don't want anymore!" Closing her eyes, she sniffled twice and let the tears cascade down her cheeks, tone softer than before, "I had an IUD put in after I got here... because birth control and condoms just don't seem to be on our side, and I can't handle another loss..." Her voice cracked, pushing her lips inward and biting her cheek to suppress the deep, guttural sobs trapped inside her throat, "It'll kill me..."

He stood there for a beat before wrapping his arms around her, "I don't have any expectations... I just want you to be okay. I want us to be okay..." Kissing the crown of her head softly, "You're not broken, Amy... Emma is fine - she's here because of you -"

Her heart was aching, knowing she had to tell him, but desperately wanting to melt into the floor to keep from having to. It was going to destroy him. She knew it was going to because it was still destroying her.

Gulping back the lump, she shook her head slowly against his chest, grasping the fabric with her fingers as she confessed through a barely audible whisper, "... Not Emma..."

His body tensed, arms falling from her body, "No..." He shook his head slowly, trying to put the pieces together, his words coming out rushed, disbelief laced in his tone, "No, I saw - I saw the test it was neg -" Not being able to finish his thoughts as he was getting closer and closer to the truth - or what he perceived might be the truth. "Did you -"

Her eyes became wild, pushing away from him as she raved against what he thought without uttering it aloud, "You think after everything I went through with Emma... that I'd have an abortion?" The slice cut deep, knowing now that he needed the truth before his perception destroyed everything.

He swallowed roughly, fixing his tear-filled eyes on hers, "Then what, Amy? Because there is something you're hiding from me -"

Shaking her head as the tears streamed down her cheeks, the color drained from them with each hiccuping breath. Guilt riddled through her heart for having to drop such a horrific bomb on him; to betray the goodness of him by shattering his already fragile world. How could she tell him this? How could upend his life like this? Why wouldn't he just leave it alone and let her bear the burden? Because once it came out, she couldn't take it back. "P-please... p-please d-don't m-make me -"

"Tell me!" He says harshly, his jaw starting to twitch, "I need to know what -"

Deep breath. Breathe. Her hands were shaking, trying to cover her face as she fought the glass scraping her throat and screams blaring in her mind; the pain of seeing his tear-filled eyes was too much to bear as she sobbed, "I - I h-had a - a miscarriage..."

To be continued... ;)