Fifty Shades Complete Part 2

November 2012

*I do not own these characters. All rights go to E.L. James*

Prologue

The sounds of giggling laughter followed by a shrill squeal echoes down the hall from the great room and into my study. My fingers are flying furiously over the keys, typing out my last email correspondence with Andrea for the day. A grin spreads across my face when I can finally hit 'send' and close my laptop. I reach down to the bottom drawer of my desk, and file away a few papers before standing and rolling my chair forward so that it is flush with my desk. My Ana and Teddy are busy playing, and I am eager to join them.

Their laughter grows louder with each step I take moving me closer to them, the loves of my life. With the hallway at my back they come into view. Ana is on the floor lying on her stomach and in front of her in the same position is our son. I watch her cover her face with both of her hands, and speak to Ted in a sing-song voice, "Where is Mommy's Teddy? There he is! Peek-a-boo Teddy! Mommy sees you!" Our son giggles uncontrollably enjoying their game. With the same enthusiasm and animation in her voice, she repeats their game numerous times. Each time receiving the same response from her one and only captive audience.

I am able to steal a few more moments of prurience, before my presence is noticed by her two toothed spectator. My sons gray eyes lock on me and he begins babbling, causing his mommy to turn her head to see what has grabbed his attention. A pretty smile graces her angelic face. "Is that Dada Teddy? Do you see Dada?" Ted mimics her simple two syllable word. The reasonable part of me knows he is only mimicking the sound she is making with her words, but I cannot help to hope that my son is saying, 'dada,' because he knows that I am his father.

Unable to withstand another moment with even this small of an amount of space between us, I quickly cross to where they are lying on the floor. Assuming the same position as they are in, I look at Ana. "I know he's only saying 'dada' because it is easy for babies to say."

"He knows you're his Dada, don't you Teddy?"

Ana discontinues my sentence as well as my doubt. Our son looks at me and continues to babble interjecting a few more 'dadas' in his line of jabber.

"Play peekaboo with us Daddy." She encourages me, and I cannot resist joining in their game.

Covering my face with my hands I lilt the same words to Ted as Ana did. "Where is Daddy's Teddy? There he is! Peek-a-boo Teddy! Daddy sees you!" His tiny body erupts into a fit of giggles followed by chatter, urging me to engage in the game with him again and again.