She stood at the edge of the counter, pouring two glasses of iced tea into the cups in front of her. With one eye on the glasses as she poured the tea, she regarded the woman beside her. As she finished filling both cups, she brought one to her and took a greedy mouthful, parched from the humidity in the air this time of year.

"Do you want me to set this anywhere?" she asked, holding the other glass of tea up in her hand.

"Just put it on the table, I'll be able to sit down eventually," Madeline said, swaying back and forth.

Fiona nodded and carried their drinks to the table, sitting down at her usual spot, beside the head of the table.

Madeline bounced softly on her feet, rocking the little baby in soothing motions.

"Where is Ruth?" Fiona asked, as Madeline slowly but surely made her way from the kitchen island to the table.

"Off getting a manicure, pedicure, shopping, who knows," Madeline said.

Fiona nodded and took another drink of her tea, watching as the baby's cries softened and finally stopped as Madeline came to a stop at the head of the table.

Fiona pushed the chair out with her foot, and Madeline sat down slowly.

"This kid is going to be the death of my feet," Madeline cried out softly. "He doesn't like it when you sit, apparently. I've been up on my feet all morning."

Fiona's face morphed into displeasure.

"And Ruth's been gone this whole time?" she asked.

"She left before Michael came over this morning, not one phone call to tell anyone where she is. Apparently she needs 'Ruth time,'" Madeline shrugged.

A small whimper came from the small baby in her arms and Madeline sighed.

"Will you take him?" she asked. "I am dying for a smoke. I haven't had one in hours, and well, the kid just likes to be held," Madeline said, standing up from her chair and moving close to Fiona's.

"I don't know the first thing about babies," Fiona told her as she moved her hands from the table to her lap.

"You were good with Jack," Madeline recalled.

"But Jack could talk and he liked Army men. I'm not sure Charlie will appreciate the knowledge I posses," Fiona countered.

"Here," Madeline said, lowering her arms with the baby to Fiona. "Just make sure you support the head and the neck with your arm," she said as she readjusted Charlie in Fiona's arms once she passed him to her.

Fiona held him awkwardly, and the baby's eyes opened as he let out a squawk of discomfort.

"Shh, you're all right, Charlie," Madeline said to the baby as she bundled his blankets tighter around his small frame.

The baby's cries ceased and Fiona smiled gratefully.

"I'll be out in the back, yell if you need assistance," Madeline said as she grabbed her cigarettes and headed towards the garage.

Fiona stared at the tiny human she held in her arms. She couldn't help but trace the features of the small baby to his mother and father. He definitely had more Westen in him, than he did Ruth, she noticed. She had heard once that babies are born with blue eyes, but Charlie did have a deep blue, when he opened his eyes and looked at her.

Fiona thought he would start crying, like he had been doing since she got here, when he opened his eyes, but he just looked around quietly. Somehow, his arm escaped his blanket, she realized, and he flailed it around half-heartedly. She grabbed his fingers and he slowly wrapped his fingers around her finger and held on.

Sitting at the table was getting uncomfortable, since she wasn't used to the extra weight in her arms. She slowly got up out of her seat at the table and moved to the family room, and maneuvered to the couch.

She sighed in comfort as she molded herself into the couch cushions.

As she continued to watch the baby, she heard the familiar sounds of her car engine cutting off.

The front door opened, and she watched Michael look around his mother's house. He spotted her as he looked into the family room and raised his eyebrows.

"Hey, Fi," he greeted as he walked into the room.

"Michael," she greeted.

"Where's Mom, Nate, and Ruth?" he asked.

"Your Mom is taking a break, I'm not sure where Nate is, and Ruth is getting a pedicure, as far as we know," Fiona said.

Michael nodded and looked towards the back of the house, where the garage was, but then turned to sit next to Fiona on the couch.

"He's quiet," Michael noted.

Fiona looked at him questioningly.

"When I was over this morning, he was screaming. I didn't know a thing that small could be so loud. I was sure something was wrong with it," Michael told her as he leaned back against the couch cushions.

"He was fussy with your mom, but she needed a break and handed him off to me. He seems to be doing fine, even though I don't really know what to do with him," she said.

Charlie started wiggling in Fiona's arms, now that he noticed there was more than one person in the room.

"Uh, Fi," Michael started.

"I don't really know what to do, Michael," she said as she pushed off the couch and stood in front of him, swaying slowly as she saw Madeline doing earlier.

The baby ceased wiggling and went back to making contented noises in Fiona's arms.

Both adults sighed in relief.

"He's heavy," Fiona said as she continued to move back and forth.

"Sit him upright, on your shoulder and pat his back," Madeline said as she walked into the room.

"Michael," she greeted her son.

"Hey, Ma," Michael said as he watched Fiona.

Fiona did as she was told, and the baby molded itself to Fiona's body.

Madeline smiled in satisfaction.

"I'm sure you could sit down with him now, just keep patting his back, I'm sure he's just tired," Madeline told her.

Fiona once again sat next to Michael on the couch, and continued to rhythmically pat on the baby's back gently. Michael's arm made its way over the back of the couch with his hand resting close to Fiona's other shoulder.

Michael noticed the hand that was still out of the blanket, was now making its way towards Fiona's shirt, and grabbing a hold of it as tight as he could.

The baby sighed softly into Fiona's neck and Madeline smiled softly at the sight before her.

The front door opened again and all three looked towards the door.

"Hey, Mikey, Fi, Maddie," Sam greeted as he made his way through the front door.

"Shh, Sam. You'll wake the baby," Madeline scolded.

"Oh, right." Sam said quietly. "I'm just going to get a beer, anyone want anything?"

"My tea is on the table, Sam," Fiona said, as the others shook their heads.

"Gotcha, Fi," Sam nodded and headed off to the kitchen. As he brought his beer and Fiona's tea to the family room, he handed Fiona's tea to Michael, since her hands were occupied with a sleeping baby.

He took his seat across the couch, sitting in one of the unoccupied chairs next to Madeline.

"Who is the little stinker?" Sam asked, pointing his beer at the baby in Fiona's arms.

"Charlie, Nate and Ruth's kid," Madeline said.

"And where are the parents? I thought we were all doing dinner?" Sam asked.

"Nate should be here shortly, and last we know, Ruth was getting a pedicure. But that was this morning. She hasn't checked in with us, though," Madeline said.

Michael took a drink of Fiona's iced tea and looked at his nephew.

"So, dinner?" he asked, looking back at his mother.

"Take out menus are in the drawer, Michael," Madeline told him.

"I got it," Sam told them as Michael moved to get up off the couch.

"Thanks, Sam," Michael and Madeline said together.

Fiona craned her neck and leaned her head against Michael's shoulder.

"You okay?" he asked her quietly.

"Fine, why?" Fiona asked, moving her head against Michael's shoulder.

"No reason, Fi," he told her, squeezing her shoulder.

Nate came in through the front door just as Sam returned with the take out menus.

"Storm is coming," he greeted them as he walked through the door.

"Where's Ruth?" Madeline asked as she turned in her chair to face her younger son.

"She's decided to stay home, doesn't want to venture out in the rain with her new pedicure," he told his mother.

Michael and Fiona shared a look as she looked up at him from her place on his shoulder, and she scoffed.

"I see Charlie's out like a light," Nate said as he walked to the couch, taking the last seat next to Michael, looking over at his sleeping son.

"Well, I vote Cuban," Sam piped up. "It'll go great with this nice imported beer I got just the other day. What do you say?"

"Sure," Fiona agreed. "I'll have my usual."

"Great. Mike, usual?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, Sam," Michael nodded.

Sam gave the menu to Madeline and Nate, waiting for their selections before picking up the phone.

"They said fifteen minutes, so let's go. Mike, you coming?" Sam asked, also looking to Nate.

"You need anything else while we're out?" Michael said as he got up, putting Fiona's tea on the table in front of him as he got up and took Fiona's keys out of his pockets.

Madeline and Fiona both shook their heads.

Michael lingered for a minute next to Fiona and smiling down at her briefly before heading to the front door.

The boys took off in the car to pick up their dinner, leaving Madeline and Fiona alone with Charlie still sleeping against Fiona's shoulder.

"You ever thought about having one of your own?" Madeline asked as she eyed Fiona, absentmindedly drawing patterns on Charlie's back.

Fiona looked up at Madeline, her eyes wide.

"It's okay, I won't tell a soul, it's just us girls here," Madeline pushed.

Fiona looked down at Charlie as she answered.

"At one point, I did envision a different life, with the picket fence, the husband, perhaps a kid or two. But, I love my life and I love what we do as a team. Michael and I are too invested in other things to do the whole family thing," Fiona said quietly.

"But you at least entertained the thought at one point," Madeline said.

Fiona nodded.

"I'll have you know, Nate and I have asked Michael on a few occasions, about cousins and grandchildren, but he's never given us a straight answer," Madeline told Fiona.

"But at least you two are progressing. How is living with my son?" Madeline smirked.

Fiona smiled and shook her head.

"At this rate, you'll be married by the time this kid heads off to college," Madeline laughed, pointing her finger to Charlie.

"In all serious, Fiona." Madeline told her, waiting until the younger woman made eye contact with her. "I'm glad Michael has you. He is different than I remember, and that's a good thing, young lady."

"He's told me that much, at least," Fiona smiled at the older woman.

Madeline raised her eyebrows.

"The last time "dead Larry" was here," Fiona clarified.

"My son, he doesn't say much, but I know he does love you. And you have met Nate and I without running in the opposite direction for five years now," Madeline said, smiling at her oldest son's significant other.

As soon a Fiona opened her mouth to reply, the door was pushed open and the boys filed in, Sam with a six-pack, Michael with dinner, and Nate brought up the rear with a car seat to put Charlie in as they all ate.

"Food and beer has arrived, ladies," Sam told the as he put the six-pack on the table.

"Here you go, Fiona. You can put Charlie in his seat. I thought we left one earlier, sorry," Nate said as he placed the carrier on the table in front of Fiona.

"Its not a problem, Nate," Fiona told him as she moved to the edge of the couch. "Any tricks to how to get him in there without waking him up?"

"Just go for it," Nate said.

"All right," Fiona said, carefully lifting Charlie, slowly placing him in his car seat. He fused slightly at the loss of body heat given off by Fiona, but she wrapped his blanket tighter around him and he settled.

She rocked the seat on the table instinctively as his eyes opened slightly at the loss of Fiona's body heat. He quickly settled once again into sleep, and Fiona smiled at her success.

"Good job, Fi," Michael teased as he pulled her dinner out of the bag. He dished out the rest of the food and then sat beside Fiona.

Sam passed around the beers as he opened them with his bottle opener.

"Ah, now that hits the spot," Sam sighed contentedly as he took a long drink from his beer.

The five of them sat and ate dinner in Madeline's living room. Sam and Nate keeping everyone entertained with various exaggerated stories of the client's case they had just closed.

Michael noticed every so often, Fiona would look at Charlie sleeping in his car seat. As he looked at the baby himself, he caught his mother's knowing eye. Just as he looked at the baby in front of him and Fiona, it whimpered.

Michael noted Charlie's face got red and squished as he squirmed and began to cry.

Nate quickly moved for his son and checked him over, noting it was time for a feeding and a diaper change. He moved to his old bedroom and the baby's cries could still be heard.

"Are you sure he doesn't need to go to the hospital?" Michael asked.

"Michael, he is a baby, babies cry, do their business, eat, and sleep. He's fine," Madeline told her son.

Michael didn't look too convinced as he looked towards the hallway, but turned back to his dinner as he settled down on the couch.

Fiona, finished with her dinner, placed her carton on the table and settled in next to Michael, curving her body into his side.

He placed his dinner on the couch next to him, and wrapped his hand around her shoulder, pulling her close.

Sam and Madeline watched Fiona and Michael on the couch and shared a knowing look. They both knew, thanks to Fiona, that Michael was having trouble sleeping lately, but he seemed okay tonight.

Nate came back in with Charlie and passed him off to Michael.

"Hold him while I warm a bottle, would you bro?" Nate told Michael more than asked as he made his way to the kitchen.

Fiona hid a smile as she watched Michael shift uncomfortably.

"Here, support his head," Fiona told him, leaning over him to help him get the right grip on Charlie. "There, see, you're a pro."

Michael smiled gratefully at the back of her head as she readjusted Charlie's blanket around him.

Madeline and Sam watched in rapt concentration as the two fiddled with the baby in Michael's arms.

"Never thought I'd see the day," Sam whistled into his beer.

Madeline just smiled softly at the sight before her.

"Fi, he's staring at me," Michael said as he stared back at his nephew.

"Michael, he's only a baby. At best he can see a few inches in front of him. You're a giant blob that smells like gun powder and Cuban food," she told him as she settled her chin on his shoulder as she leaned into him to watch Charlie.

He turned to glare, but found his nephew staring back at him a little strange, so he kept the staring contest going.

"Here, bro. You know how to do this?" Nate asked as a bottle came into Michael's line of sight.

"I think I can figure it out," Michael said as he took the bottle with his free hand and placed the nipple into Charlie's mouth.

"Hey, hey. You are a pro," Nate smiled as Michael got Charlie to drink from his bottle.

Everyone watched Michael feed Charlie, but he didn't pay attention. It seemed almost as if Charlie had some super power that made you want to watch him do basic things like drink from a bottle.

As the bottle was drained and a burp was produced, Charlie fell asleep again in his uncle's arms.

"You're a natural, bro," Nate said, slapping his brother's shoulder.

Michael turned to look at him in horror, but Nate just laughed.

"We should probably get going, so Charlie can sleep in his crib," Nate said, taking the sleeping baby from his brother and putting him in the car seat, strapping him in with ease.

"Goodnight, guys," Nate said as he picked up the car seat and headed for the door. Madeline hugged her son goodbye, and helped him out the door.

Fiona wrapped her arm around Michael's and leaned into his side.

"We should probably get going, Michael," she told him.

He nodded and she unwrapped her arm, letting them both stand up. Michael tossed their dinner boxes, along with Nate's in the bag beside him and took it in his hands.

"You leaving too?" Madeline asked as they made their way towards her.

"Long day," Michael said.

Madeline nodded and hugged her son and then Fiona.

"Will I see you two later?" she asked as she released Fiona.

"Uh," Michael started to answer.

"We'll call you," Fiona interrupted.

Madeline grinned and waved them out the door.

Michael made a quick pit stop at the trashcan, throwing the bag of empty food containers in the bin and walked to the car Fiona was standing at.

He moved around to the driver's side as she got in the passenger side.

"Home?" he asked as he turned the key over and started the engine.

"Sounds good," she said.

The drive back was quiet. The rain had started as soon as they had gotten in the car at his mother's, and it was now coming down steadily. As he pulled open the fence, he watched her stare out the window of her car.

As he got back in the car to pull it in, he looked at her.

"Fi?" he asked as he maneuvered her car next to the steps.

She turned and looked at him.

"Anything on your mind?" he asked.

She shook her head and got out of the car, trying to dodge the rain coming down.

He followed her up the stairs and unlocked the door to their loft.

As they made their way inside and she tossed her shoes to the side, he continued to watch her carefully.

"I'm just tired, Michael. That's all," she told him.

"Okay," Michael said skeptically.

As she changed into her pajamas and got into their bed, she turned towards him as he sat at his workbench.

"Do you ever think about the 'what ifs'?" she asked as she rested her head in her hand. "I mean I know you are trained to pack up and leave in a moments notice. But did you ever think in the last couple years about giving it all up. Especially now, since you have found all the people who have burned you," she asked.

"Fi," he began, making his way from the stool to his side of the bed, sitting down next to her.

She craned her neck to see his face.

"I," he began.

"Its okay," she said, "we're no good at this."

"Fi," he whispered.

She wrapped her free hand around his and held on tight.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm sorry I can't give you that kind of life."

She nodded.

"I just want you, Michael. Anything else, I'll take. But we've come too far to let things get between us."

He smiled softly at her sad smile and leaned down, pressing a soft kiss against her lips.

"I'm sorry," he whispered again.

She released his hand and moved it up to his face, tracing his features.

"I'm sorry too, Michael," she whispered.

He moved to lie down beside her, and she settled her head against his chest. Resting her palm on his stomach.

He traced his fingers against her side and sighed.

She closed her eyes against his ministrations and the sound of his heartbeat underneath her ear. He listened to her breathing slow and knew the moment she fell asleep against him. He continued to trace his fingers up and down her side, as he covered his eyes with his free hand and form a fist between his brows. He would never be able to give her what she truly wanted, and he knew one day she would probably regret all the things she missed out on because she was in love with him, but for now, he hoped she was content with what they had.