Hey everyone. As usual, I don't own Flashpoint and check out my profile for story ideas.

Just real quick, I used Enrico Colantoni's real birthday for this. He looks pretty good for 50, doesn't he? Also, the site I'm talking about in the story, is Facebook. You could probably figure that out, but I kinda wanted a little mystery to it. Thanks for reading.


Everyone sat in the briefing room in silence, absorbing the information Greg had just told them. Knowing he had a son was a shock, knowing the rest of the story was even more shocking.

''9 years.'' Spike stated. He didn't get along much with his folks, but not being able to see them for 9 years, he couldn't imagine the pain his boss was feeling.

''You want to see him though, right? Does he want to see you to?'' Sam asked.

''I don't know. I've tried to get in touch, but...'' Greg sighed, looking out the windows.

Silence had once more filled the room, when suddenly, Sam jumped up out of the chair. ''I got it,'' he said, running out of the briefing room.

''Where's he going?'' Lew asked no one in particular.

It wasn't more than a minute when he ran back into the room. ''My sister, Natalie, she keeps going on and on about this site. If your kid decides he wants to know anything about you, this is where he'll look.'' Sam opened up his personal laptop and turned it on, urging it to go faster. ''Alright, it's up, just give me a second to get to the ... ah-ha. Okay Sarge, answer me honestly, this is important. Full name?''

Greg wasn't really in the mood for 20 questions, but seeing the eager look on Sam's face, and if it could help him get in touch with his son, he thought he would play it out. ''Gregory Dominic Parker.''

Spelling Greg's name aloud, he typed in the information. ''Next is, birthday?''

''Feburary 14th, 1963.''

''Ah, a Valentine's baby, okay, uh, profession?''


''No, boss, come on. We need you to sound impressive here. We have to put in the full title. Sergeant of Team 1 of the Police Strategic Response Unit. Hey Wordy, strategic is spelle a-''

''You don't know how to spell strategic? How many years did you spend with JTF2 again?'' Spike grinned.

''I know how to spell strategic, I just want to make sure I get it right. Besides, the word tactical came up more than strategic.'' Sam defended.

''Strategic, c.'' Wordy calmly spelled, used to doing this with his girls.

''Wait, why Wordy?'' Lew asked.

''He's 'Wordy'.'' Sam said as if he was stating the obivous.

''His nickname comes from his last name. It doesn't mean he's a genius with words.'' Ed rolled his eyes.

''Hey, I always got A+s in spelling. Example: Meanie Ed, d.'' Wordy smirked.

''Guys, can we get back on track here?'' Sam threw his arms in the air. They continued, with mild bantering, until they finished Greg's profile - except for the picture.

''Come on Boss, give me a pretty smile,'' Wordy coaxed, aiming the camera at Greg.

''Wordy, no, that's not how you do it. You're supposed to say 1-2-3 elbow pasta.'' Spike struck a pose.

''Nice,'' said Wordy as he snapped a picture.

''Elbow pasta?'' asked Lew.

''Yeah, you know, the chewy stuff in macaroni and cheese.'' Spike clarifed.

''Spike, it's 1-2-3 cheese. You don't have to include the macaroni.''

''Macaroni is pasta, pasta is Italian, Italian is me - I don't see where you're getting lost here.''

Jules rolled her eyes at the two before turning back to Greg. ''Boss, just smile big for the camera.''

Ed shook his head as he watched Greg smile so big, it strecthed his face unnaturally. ''Maybe not that big.''

''Hurry, Boss. Just smile the way you do when you eat that sandwich from across the street.'' Sam encouraged. When they finally got the picture, Sam uploaded it to the profile. ''Okay. It's done. Now here's what we do: we go home and we all make profiles. We'll communitcate to each other like that for, at least, a month. Then, Boss, you said Dean and Clark would play together sometimes, right?''

Greg nodded. ''They went to the same school, so yeah, they spent some time together.''

''Okay, so after a month, we have Clark ask Dean to befriend him. Now he's gonna think: 'Hey, I used to play with him when I was little, I wonder what he's up to now'. Then, he'll click on Clark's page, and when he looks through his list of friends, he'll see you. His curiosity will get the best of him, he'll click on your page and he'll see how much you've changed, and maybe, just maybe, he'll ask you to befriend him. What do you think?''

''Sam,'' Greg started choking up.

''It's a stroke of genius.'' Lew said nodding.

''Who came up with 'a stoke of genius' anyway? Stroke, bad thing. Genius, good thing. Isn't it kinda contradictory to combind them?'' Spike asked.

''Different definition of stroke, Spike.'' Wordy smiled.

''See, 'Wordy','' said Sam, as if to futher prove his earlier point.

''So, do you think it'll work?'' Jules asked, getting back on target.

''I hope so, Jules. I really want to see my son again. Or communicate with him, at least.'' Greg looked around at his teammates. ''Either way, I'll always have you guys. My family.''

''Always, Greg,'' Ed threw an arm over his friends shoulders.

''Never a doubt,'' Wordy gave Greg a slap on the back.

''Forever,'' Sam and Jules replied together.

''Count on it,'' Lew nodded.

''Absa - tootly,'' Spike gave him a huge grin.

Greg smiled, and gave everyone a big group hug. Yeah, he thought, he'd always have his family.