Sofi(Taylor's versión)

* * May 12, 1995 * *

The beat up black pick up slows to a halt, overlooking the vast beach. The engine along with the old rock song fuzzily playing over the radio gets cut short as Pope settles back in the driver’s seat, smiling a bit at the view in front of him, keys hanging in the ignition but turned off.

They’d made it just in time to catch the sunset.

In the passenger seat sat a girl he never in a million years thought would agree to be his. But here they were, two months into dating, and his hands would still get sweaty when near her.

Y/N Y/L/N.

The smartest girl in all of Oceanside Viking’s High School. The girl who was going places.

Pope was honored just being a pitstop in her life..

“Andy. You weren’t joking. It’s so pretty up here..” Y/N gushes as she sits up more, her bare feet still tossed happily across his lap, nails painted his favorite shade of blue. A symbol of her love for him, honestly.

“You like it?” Pope asks to make sure, heart skipping a beat at the idea of doing good by her.

That’s all he really wanted.

She smiles warmly, nodding as she settles in to watch the sunset before remembering. "Oh! I actually wanted to tell you." She begins as she plays a bit with her thumbs, barely able to contain herself the longer he watches her with those beautiful brown orbs of his, the sun hitting them just right to make them gold..

"I got in!” She blurts out while giggling. Pope is shocked for only a second before letting out a breath of pure pride for his girl. “You're looking at a future doctor of Oceanside, baby!" She playfully jokes as she leans forward more to touch his cheek.

"No shit..” He laughs, actually laughs, and it makes Y/N smile wider. It’s rare when he does laugh out loud, so each crack of that is joyous for the young girl.

“Holy shit, Y/N. I told you that you’d get in..” He states, having never doubted his girl. She’s always been smart. Hell, she was class president from ninth grade all the way to eleventh. This year, she’s vice president.

She tells Pope it’s cause she wants to ‘cut back’ and enjoy her senior year, but.. Pope knows his overachiever has no real plan of that..

"I got in..” Y/N repeats, breathing out like she can finally settle, grinning so wide her cheeks might actually start hurting.

Pope finally reaches over, cupping her face tenderly. His thumbs brush along her cheekbones, brown eyes searching hers like he's trying to hold onto this moment forever. He’s always trying to hold on..

"I knew you would. I told you that you would." He can’t help but repeat. It’s true though.

He never doubted her for a second.

Pope dropped out of school in the ninth grade, but Julia was constantly trying to share new things with him whenever she could, just to keep him sharp. He had met Y/N when she was Julia’s tenth grade science partner.

He was stunned by her from that moment on, but he never had the courage to talk to her till two months ago when he saw her at the skatepark he frequents.

She’d been there with her after-school environmental group, planting a tree. Julia had called her over, much to Pope’s panic. She had made a joke about Pope itching to teach someone how to skate a half-pipe, but that she was too scared. She encouraged Y/N to be his ‘student’. Pope couldn’t walk away because Baz held him in place.

That was the beginning of the end, really.

While Julia and Baz snuck away, Pope and Y/N spent almost all night at the skatepark together, actually getting to talk more than when Pope would stare at the back of her head in fourth period history..

Y/N giggles softly, resting her forehead against her boyfriends to truly enjoy this moment. "I haven't even told my mom yet.” She notes gently, voice softer now that their lips are so close.

Y/N’s parents were never really home. As much as Pope hated it, that’s kind of why Y/N enjoyed going to his place everyday. Smurf was a.. Colorful character, sure, but at least she was around.

That was Y/N’s logic at least..

“Congratulations on being the first person to know..” She continues, a slight tease to her voice as Pope smiles more, pulling her into a soft kiss that’s more like a tender peck.

When he pulls back, he’s smiling just as big as before. "A fucking doctor..” He says it like it’s already happened.

Pope saw bright things for Y/N. She just wishes he saw the same for himself..

She sighs, excitement buzzing through her. It was the perfect set up. The college was real close to town, a 45-minute drive to campus, so she didn’t have to leave Pope, and it was her first choice anyways.

“It’s gonna be great. Especially because then I can help your..." Y/N pauses a bit, realizing something was about to leave her mouth that really shouldn’t. Pope catches on quickly though, eyeing her.

“Help… Who?” He asks slowly. She shifts a bit in her seat.

“Y/N. Help who?” Pope asks again to clarify, making her sigh softly.

“Help… You and your family.” She tries to keep it at that, but he stares her down. “On your… Jobs.” She clarifies only then, voice low and soft as she watches him carefully.

Not because she’s scared he’ll lash out and hurt her, but because they’ve talked about this before.

And Pope has stated firmly that coming over for spaghetti on a random Thursday night is one thing, but actually hanging around his family? That’s a big no.

But it’s too late to go back on the admission. The words hang in the air as the sun fully sinks below the horizon.

Y/N can feel the shift before she sees it clearly on his face. The smile has fully faded without a trace, replaced with a look of… Well, the best word to describe it is.. Lost.

Pope’s hand moves from her face now as he finds his spot in the driver side only, her feet still on his lap as he stares at the steering wheel.

"Y/N..." He begins finally, breaking the thick silence after what feels like minutes.

His voice is quiet. Controlled. Pope never wanted to scare Y/N. Even when angry or overwhelmed, he’d rather draw blood from biting down on his tongue than have her see him like everyone else does..

The truck feels smaller suddenly, the moonlight shimmering over the vast ocean that can be seen from over the pier.

“Andy..” Y/N sighs softly.

“We talked about this…” He continues over her soft voice. He doesn't look at her. His jaw works, a muscle ticking in his cheek as he has a staring contest with the steering wheel.

“Can you just.. Look at me, Andy. Don’t.. Freak out on me." She tries again as she reaches over to grab his hand that’s lulled at his side.

Pope doesn't move. He didn’t react. For the longest time, he sits there, trying to let it all wash through him. Finally, he shakes his head. "Don't freak out..” He repeats her words with a low, humorless chuckle.

Finally, he turns to look at her. His eyes unreadable, that damn wall firmly in place now.

He can practically see it. See her slipping away. He just wanted these two things separate. He wanted his family on one side and Y/N on the other.

But Pope can never get what he wants..

“What do you mean by.. Jobs?" He asks quietly, bracing himself.

"Your..” Y/N sighs. “Your mom told me. Everything. The jobs you guys do. All the heists.” She admits softly. Pope would be vague about so much of his life that when Smurf came to get Y/N from his bedroom during a sleepover at around 2am, it.. Well, it was like when the devil held out that apple for Eve…

Pope shakes his head in silent disbelief. Months of being vague, of telling half truths, of sneaking around. Of trying to shield Y/N from seeing who he truly was. All of it went down the drain as he slept. As he let his guard down.

“Baby..” Y/N whispers, moving her hands up a bit to his bicep, just in hopes of pulling him back. “She said it can be dangerous, Andrew. And… That it'd be good having a doctor on call for some under the table stuff." She explains the gist of their conversation that night just last week.

Y/N had let it all sink in right there at the kitchen table. Smurf was holding gold in front of her. Gold in the shape of a spot in this family. A spot next to Pope.

Forever.

It’s silent once more as Pope turns his head, his free hand reaching up to rub at his bare chin, eyes quickly glancing along the starry sky as he tries to wrap his head around his mother’s game.

She always had a game..

"She told you." He whispers, mind racing. Why? Why do that?

"She said it'd be good having someone you all can trust. For when things go wrong. And I.. I agree.." Y/N defends softly, watching Pope closely as she rests her chin on his shoulder now, fully watching the tense jaw of her lover.

“When things go wrong." He repeats it like he's finding a bitter humor in the words. Always with the dramatics, his mother. He laughs a short, humorless laugh, shaking his head. "Fucking Smurf." He mutters, his thumb pressing against his own lips as a way to possibly self-soothe.

It works better when it’s Y/N’s thumb on his lips though…

“Baby. Look at me..” Y/N whispers, trying to reach for his chin and physically turn his face only for him to quickly push open the truck door and get out.

Y/N watches with a frown as he walks to the end of the wooden pier they were parked on for this view. It had been abandoned a while ago, and Pope has been using it as a lookout for almost a year now.

His back is to her as he leans against the wooden railing. The nighttime ocean breeze catches his curls making him pull up his hoodie.

After slipping on her flats, Y/N gets out of the car as well. The salt air hits her nose, a sharp and cold reminder that this should be a fun night. It’s their anniversary today for crying out loud. Two months down to the hour..

She approaches him carefully, stopping a few inches away just to watch him.

"She's been planning this.” He says. He can’t prove it, but he knows. "Since you came to the house. Since I first showed that I liked you. She saw you and she started figuring out how to use you." His hands grip the railing tighter. The feeling of guilt is heavy on his shoulders as Y/N frowns, moving a bit closer now.

"And I don’t care if she is..” Y/N tries.

“I do!” Pope snaps, turning to face Y/N now. “I told her to leave you alone.” He states as Y/N tries talking over him only to be crumbled by the boom of his agitated tone. “I told her that you were off limits." He ignores her words until she finally yells.

“I want to help, Andrew!” She stomps her foot, growing mad herself at his tunnel vision. He can’t see the bigger picture.

“It’s hell, Y/N!” Pope shouts right back, letting go of any self control in this moment. Y/N stiffens a bit at his tone, but she doesn’t back away. “You wanna be in hell?!” He continues, tone raw and wall down. This is the real him. How he really feels.

“If I’m with you? Then yes!” She argues back, unapologetically as she basically gets in his face, no care over their height difference or the fact that his eyes look as dark as the ocean behind him.

The silence settles, only kept from feeling too heavy by the constant crash of the waves below them.

Pope’s shoulders settle finally, his face breaking from his stone cold expression to… His fear.

“You don't get it." His voice drops, quiet and hoarse. "You don't get what you're saying. You're..” He can’t speak when her hands find his face. He looks at her with a mix of guilt and worry.

"You're good, Y/N. You're good. And this life..” He shakes his head, eyes turning a bit glossy at the mere thought. "It eats people like you." He whispers, wanting to stay strong, but his hands find her waist when she presses against him.

"Then don't let it get me..” She says as if it’s that easy.

“Don’t give it the chance, Andrew.” She continues, holding his gaze as she moves on her tiptoes, forehead finding his as her arms wrap around his neck. "Stay with me." She whispers against his lips.

His lips.. That tremble only a bit as his grip on her tightens.

"I can't lose you..” He whispers. "You're the only good thing I've got."

Y/N hums as she pulls back only slightly to really look him in the eyes. “Then be with me. Stay with me. And I’ll always patch you up.” She whispers. “I don’t care about anything besides you.. And me. That’s all I want.” She states.

*

*

*

* * June 14, 2016 * *

“Ma’am, this is an active crime scene..”

“My nephew is in there!”

J looks up from his staring contest with the couch when he hears the voice he’s only ever known for birthdays and holidays.

Aunt Y/N

This morning was already morphing into a blur. One he hoped would soon go pitch black. One he hoped he’d never remember fully again. The cops step aside and in the doorway she appears.

When he called, he was only 50% sure she’d show up. It was rare when he saw her outside of those brief moments.

“J..” Y/N breathes, letting the teenager rush into her arms like he used to when she’d show up at the door with presents before leaving after hushed and somber words with his mother.

She holds him close, gripping him tight as he hugs back. “It’s okay. I’ve got you. We’ve got you..” Y/N sighs as she braces herself for what is to come..

The ride back to the house is silent. Walking into the house… That is a complete 180. Y/N leads J through the chaos of the home and to a room at the very end of the hallway. “I had 16 hour shift yesterday, so.. I’m sorry about the mess..” She mutters as they get into the bedroom that is completely clean. Almost.. Untouched.

“Is this… Your room? I don’t wanna put you out..” J begins quietly, looking around only to find a few things that show she shares this room. The man in the wedding photo that’s framed on their nightstand looks… A little familiar, but he can’t put his finger on it.

“Trust me. You’d be bringing some life into it. I take the couch every night..” Y/N mutters, voice soft. What’s the point of a marriage bed if her husband isn’t here to share it with her?

“Get settled in. I uh.. I’m gonna tell everyone you’re here..” Y/N says after a moment in order to change the subject a bit. She steps out of the room and covers her mouth to keep from getting physically ill. She’d spent so much energy on trying to get Pope and Julia back on speaking terms.

It had been an average night in the Cody residence. Y/N had been showing off the dress she’d wear for graduation, practicing her speech when Smurf walked in. She called a family meeting, and right in that living room, she said that money had gone missing. She’d made it very clear who she assumed it was.

She had looked Pope in the eye. “Either Y/N.. Or Julia.” She had made the choice sound so simple. And without saying words.. Pope’s eyes had drifted to Julia. The fight had lasted all night. Not between Pope and Julia or even Smurf and Julia. No. After Julia was physically kicked out, Y/N and Pope fought all night. But he was stone on his decision. Smurf felt someone had to go.. And he’d never pick Y/N.

And Smurf knew that..

After that, the guilt kept Pope back from ever reaching out. The hurt kept Julia from doing the same. But Y/N refused to let it go, going to visit during any birthday or holiday she could, and always making sure J and Julia stayed in the loop anytime her number changed. In case they needed anything.

Walking to the kitchen, Y/N finds her balance against the dining table. She knew tomorrow she’d have to visit Pope. She’d have to tell him. She just didn’t know how. Outside she can hear the rowdiness of a pool party and rock music on the stereo. Rolling her shoulders, she stands up straighter just as Baz walks into the kitchen with a happily buzzed Craig.

Y/N averts her eyes from Baz, moving to the fridge for some water. “Can I get?” He asks, always finding an excuse to make conversation. Y/N makes a show of slamming the fridge shut, walking away from it with her own bottle. He sighs as Craig snickers.

“You gonna keep this up for how long?” Baz asks finally.

“Until you realize you’re a piece of shit.” Y/N states simply as she stares him down.

“Cops were coming, someone had to leave-“ Y/N cuts Baz off from the same story.

“No one believes that story but you!” She snaps as Craig shakes his head in slight amusement while slipping past the tense showdown to get another beer. “And anyone who does believe it is just as fucking stupid as you.” She finishes sharply.

Before Baz can fully argue back, his eyes drift to just behind Y/N, lips pressing together in slight surprise. Y/N looks over too, sighing as she sees J standing there. “It’s okay. Come here..” She assures. He slowly walks over to her.

“You remember your uncles? Craig, Baz. Deran is outside. Uh.. And.. Grandma Smurf is-“ Y/N is cut off by Smurf.

“Right here.” She says, smiling warm as she walks right over to J to fully embrace him.

Y/N stays close..

*

*

*

“What are you doing in my room?”

The question was fair enough. Three years in prison had resulted in Pope wanting only two things the minute he stepped into the loud Cody home.

A shower being one.

And Y/N being two.

And yet, as he entered his bedroom at the end of the hallway, what stood amongst the bittersweet memories but a teenager in swim trunks. The young boy stammered and barely managed to get a word out when arms wrapped around Pope from behind.

“Baby!” Y/N gasped, jumping on her husband in astonishment. Either she’d finally lost her mind from lack of sleep, or the Andrew Pope Cody was in her grasp once more. If it was the former, no one better pinch her.

Hoisting up his wife, his head nuzzles into her neck before he can help it. All he needs in this moment is her scent, and from the way she’s clawing at his shoulders to stay attached to him, he definitely doesn’t need to worry about that shower. She doesn’t seem to care.

J watches, a bit thrown off over his sweet aunt being the wife to… A man who looks like he could kill him and then eat a sandwich afterwards..

As if realizing his slight alarm, Y/N finally settles herself a bit to look at J. “This is your uncle Pope, J. I-I’m sorry. He.. I guess he just got out today..” Y/N mutters, quickly trying to wipe away tears as Pope looks over at J.

“You just ruined my surprise..” He mutters, staring J down as Y/N goes back to hugging him.

Pope had no intention of mingling after that. In fact, he wanted everyone besides Y/N out of the room immediately. Craig joked loudly about them needing time to catch up, but.. They really did just need time to catch up.

And by ‘catch up’, they meant laying on their sides and facing one another like they used to do when they were teenagers.

His eyes are shut and for the first time in three years, he has no urgency to open them again. To be aware if his surroundings. He knows where he is because he knows who he’s with. Chest to chest, Y/N moves her thumbs over his forehead and temples before slipping them lower to his cheekbones.

Tracing his face. It always worked to soothe him. And now more than ever, he needed this. Smurf had told him yesterday over the phone.

Y/N could try to understand what the hell was wrong with that woman, but she was an ED attending. Not a psychologist.

Pope had roughly kicked out the rest of the world, slammed the door, and then laid like this with her as he let it all out. After a few run-ins with the law and seven years of marriage, he knew in front of him was a woman who’d rather cut out her own tongue before she ever told any of his secrets.

“Baz been enjoying being second in command?” He mutters after a long moment of silence between the two. He had no more tears left to shed for Julia. It’s clear he could use the change of subjects right now as his wife snorts humorously.

“Focus on settling in right now, Andy. You can see the mess tomorrow..” She mutters as he finally looks at her. Really looks at her. A soft frown plays on his lips.

“You been sleeping? I told Deran, I.. I told him to watch you-“ She cuts him off, a gently hand moving to rub his chest.

“I’m a grown woman, Andrew..” She reminds, wanting to leave it there. In reality, sleep had been the last thing on her mind. She watches the guilt seep back into his eyes though.

“I got sloppy..” He finally says.

“Andrew..” Y/N mutters, not wanting to talk about it.

“I just.. We couldn’t have both gotten caught-“ Y/N cuts him off sharply.

“Yeah!” She huffs. “That’s why I spent three anniversaries with you in a spare prison room for two hours only.” She finally lets some of the anger slip. She sighs, realizing it’s all still just under the surface..

All the pain, frustration. Laying below her skin was all the lost time of those three years, the family they were supposed to start, the house they were supposed to buy. All of it, frozen in her veins..

She gets up from the bed to sit on the edge of it and Pope frowns a bit deeper, slowly sitting up as well. “Y/N-“ She cuts him off again.

“You know what, Andy?” She whispers as she turns to look at him. “The next time a job starts going south?” She grabs his chin. “You make it home to me.” She says bluntly as she looks him in the eyes, not kidding around. “You already did your time.” She mutters.

Pope presses his lips together at the implication. What making it home would consist of. He wasn’t a selfish person. But Y/N was. This life had set that up on her shoulders. Selfish got you what you wanted, and all she wanted.. All she was promised if she stepped into this world.. Was Andrew Cody.

He watches her for a moment before giving a singular nod that’s extremely slight. He’s given his word. And somehow, even in this life, his word meant something.

Slowly, both lay back down in the bed, deciding to leave the stresses of yesterday on the bedroom floor. Snuggling against his chest as he lays on his side, arms around her head, she’s enclosed around just his scent. His heartbeat. His lips find the top of her head as she sighs, finally enjoying her space in this home.

“You still like it in hell?” Pope mutters against her hair, voice quiet as he recalls a conversation had two months into their relationship. One that confirmed Y/N was willingly stepping into his world. Her hand finds his shirt, absentmindedly playing with a button as she looks up at him.

“Are you still with me?” She lets the question speak for itself as she looks him in the eyes. No answer is given. It’s not needed. His lips find hers in the very next second. A silent confirmation that the clock is officially ticking again. The house, the family, the memories. All of it is in reach once more as she blindly unbuttons his shirt..

The baby had been moving all day. Not constantly. Not enough to worry you. Just enough to make herself known at the strangest moments, as if your second daughter had already developed opinions and had decided the best way to express them was from somewhere beneath your ribs. She moved when you sat down. Stopped when you stood up. Rolled when Andie shouted too loudly. Kicked once when Deran's voice came through a video Craig had sent from the park, which Andrew had taken as proof that she already had good instincts.

"She heard him," he had said.

"She is in my uterus, Andrew, not on a conference call."

"She knows."

You had rolled your eyes, but your hand had stayed on your stomach for a long time afterward.

Twenty-five weeks had changed things. Not all at once. Not loudly. But enough that your body felt different in the small, practical ways you noticed before anyone else did. Your bump was no longer something you could dress around if you tried hard enough. It led you into rooms now. It pressed against the kitchen counter when you forgot to stand back. It made Andie pat you before saying hello sometimes, as if baby sister needed greeting first. And the baby moved. More than before. Stronger than before.

Still not always strong enough to feel from the outside, though. That was the part that had become its own quiet ritual. You would feel a flutter or a nudge, and Andrew would notice the way your hand went still.

"Baby?" he would ask.

And you would nod. His hand would come over immediately. Careful. Hopeful. So still it almost hurt to look at him. Then nothing. The baby would stop. Every time. You had started joking that she was shy. Andrew had started muttering that she was messing with him. You were not entirely sure he was joking.

That evening, the house felt warm and lived-in in the way it only did after dinner. There were crumbs under Andie's chair. A tea towel over Andrew's shoulder. A half-empty cup of juice abandoned on the coffee table because Andie had decided she was "finished forever," which usually meant she would ask for it again in six minutes. The television was on low, some cartoon you had stopped understanding weeks ago.

Andie was on the rug with Baby Duck, arranging wooden blocks in a line that looked very important and entirely unstable. Andrew sat on the other end of the couch from you, one ankle crossed over the other, his arm resting along the back cushions. He was not really watching the television. He was watching Andie. He did that often. Like he was still learning her in real time. Like every ordinary evening offered another detail he did not want to miss.

You were tucked into the corner of the couch with a pillow behind your lower back and one hand resting beneath your stomach. The baby shifted. You froze slightly. Not dramatically. Just enough. Andrew's eyes came to you immediately.

"Baby?"

You looked down.

"She's awake."

His posture changed. Not much. Enough. Andie did not notice. She was too busy placing Baby Duck beside the blocks and telling her, "No touch. Tower danger." Andrew moved closer on the couch.

"Where?"

You guided his hand to the right side of your bump.

"Here. I think."

His palm settled there. Warm. Broad. Still. The baby stopped. Of course. Andrew waited. So did you. Nothing. He looked down at your stomach with narrowed eyes.

"She knows."

You smiled.

"She does not know."

"She waits until I touch."

"She's not doing it on purpose."

He gave you a look.

"She is your daughter."

"Meaning?"

"Stubborn."

You laughed softly.

"She is also yours."

"Exactly."

His thumb moved once, slow over the curve.

"Come on," he murmured.

The words were not really for you. Your chest softened.

"She'll do it eventually."

His eyes stayed on his hand.

"I know."

"You say that like you believe it."

"I believe it."

"Andrew."

His mouth curved faintly, but he did not look away.

"I mostly believe it."

You shifted slightly, trying to get comfortable without disturbing his hand. His eyes flicked up.

"You okay?"

"Yes."

"Back?"

"A little."

He moved immediately, reaching behind you to adjust the pillow.

"I'm fine."

"I know."

"You say that and then fix me like a sofa cushion."

"You were uncomfortable."

"I am pregnant. Uncomfortable is a setting now."

His hand returned to your bump anyway. You did not tell him to move it. You never did.

A block tower collapsed with a clatter. Andie gasped like something tragic had occurred.

"Baby Duck!"

Andrew looked over.

"Did Baby Duck knock it down?"

Andie stared at the doll. Then at the fallen blocks. Then she whispered, "Bad duck."

"Maybe it was an accident," you said.

Andie frowned.

"Duck no careful."

Andrew's mouth twitched.

"She gets that from Deran."

"She absolutely does not."

"Deran has knocked things down with less awareness than Baby Duck."

You laughed. Andie stood, carrying Baby Duck under one arm, and toddled toward the couch with purpose.

"Dada baby?"

Andrew looked down at his hand on your stomach.

"Baby sister is moving."

Andie's eyes widened.

"Baby sister dance?"

"Maybe," you said.

Andie climbed onto the couch with the kind of determination that made Andrew's whole body tense.

"Careful," he said.

"I careful."

"You are medium careful."

"Medium," she agreed, because this had apparently become a household legal category.

She wedged herself between you and Andrew, Baby Duck squished against her chest. Then she looked at your bump.

"Move."

Andrew huffed quietly.

"That's not how it works."

Andie leaned closer.

"Sister. Move please."

You smiled.

"At least she said please."

Andrew looked at you, then back at Andie.

"She gets that from you."

"The please?"

"The bossing."

"Rude."

Andie placed her tiny hand beside Andrew's on your stomach. Her palm was warm and soft and impossibly small next to his. You looked down at them both. Andrew's hand. Andie's hand. Both waiting. Both still. Your first daughter on the outside, serious with concentration. Your second daughter tucked beneath both of them, stubbornly silent.

Something in you tightened. Not painfully. Just with the weight of it. These were the moments Andrew had missed the first time. Not just labour. Not just birth. Not just the big things people knew to be sad about. He had missed this. A toddler who had not existed yet placing a hand on her unborn sister. A quiet couch after dinner. The strange collective patience of waiting for someone tiny to make themselves known.

Andrew glanced at you. Maybe he saw your face. Maybe he just knew. His hand shifted slightly, thumb brushing beneath yours. Andie pressed her face close to your bump.

"Baby sister."

No response. Andie sighed. Very heavily.

"Sleeping."

"Maybe," Andrew said.

Andie lifted Baby Duck and pressed the doll's soft face to your stomach.

"Baby Duck wait."

Andrew stared at the doll.

"Baby Duck has a lot of appointments."

"Duck important," Andie said.

"She is," you agreed.

Andrew looked at you like you had betrayed him. You shrugged.

"House rules."

For another minute, nothing happened. The cartoon continued low in the background. The kitchen light hummed softly. Somewhere outside, a car passed slowly down the street. Andie got bored first. Naturally. She pulled her hand away and began making Baby Duck hop on the couch cushion.

"Duck jump."

"No jumping on Mama," Andrew said.

"Duck jump couch."

"Still no."

Andie made Baby Duck hop once more, slowly, while maintaining eye contact with him. Andrew narrowed his eyes.

"You are testing me."

Andie smiled. You laughed under your breath. Then it happened.

A thump. Small. Firm. Undeniable. Right beneath Andrew's palm. Not a flutter. Not a maybe. Not the soft little brush of movement you had been trying to convince him counted for weeks. A proper kick.

Andrew stopped breathing.

You felt it from the inside and saw it land on his face at the exact same time. His eyes dropped to your stomach. His hand did not move. Andie froze too, Baby Duck suspended mid-jump. You looked at Andrew.

"That was her."

He did not answer. For a second, you were not sure he could. His face had gone still in the way it did when something hit too deep for him to react to right away. Not blank. Never blank to you. Full. So full he had no room to move around inside it.

Andie looked between you.

"Baby?"

Andrew swallowed. His voice came out rough.

"That was her?"

You nodded.

"That was her."

His fingers spread over your stomach, careful as if he might startle the baby away through skin and cotton.

"For real?"

Your chest ached.

"For real."

He looked at his hand. Then, so quietly you almost missed it, he said, "Again?"

Not to you. To her. You felt your eyes sting.

Andie leaned forward immediately.

"Sister, again."

Andrew's mouth curved faintly despite the look in his eyes.

"That's not how it works."

Andie frowned.

"Again please."

You laughed softly, but it caught in your throat. The baby moved again. Not quite as hard. More of a roll, then another kick against the lower part of your bump.

Andrew felt that one too. You knew because his hand flinched once and then went impossibly still. Andie gasped.

"Baby knock!"

A laugh broke out of you. Andrew looked at her. His eyes were wet now. Not tears falling. Not yet. Just there.

"Yeah," he said, voice low. "She knocked."

Andie knocked back. A tiny tap-tap with her fingers on your stomach. Andrew immediately caught her wrist gently.

"Gentle."

"I gentle."

"You're medium gentle."

"I gentle," she insisted, offended.

The baby kicked again. Andie's mouth fell open. Then she looked down at your stomach, deeply betrayed.

"Sister no gentle."

That did it. You laughed properly. Andrew did too, though his sounded shaken.

"No," he said, his hand still spread over your bump. "She's not."

Andie leaned close to your stomach.

"Sister, nice hands."

"She doesn't have hands there," Andrew said, then paused. "I mean, she has hands. Just not—"

You looked at him. He stopped. Andie nodded like she understood completely.

"Nice feet."

"Better," you said.

Andie patted your bump again, softer this time.

"Nice feet, sister."

The baby did not respond. Apparently she had made her point. Andrew kept his hand there. Still waiting. Still hoping. You watched him instead of the bump now.

His face had softened in stages. First shock. Then awe. Then something almost painful, something you recognised but could not fix for him because it belonged to the space behind you both. The missed things. The first time. Andie's pregnancy measured out through prison visits and phone calls and facts delivered after the moment had passed.

She kicked today. She moved a lot last night. She kept me awake. I think she likes your voice. Words you had given him because they were all you had. Words he had held because they were all he could have. This time, there had been no translation. No delay. No telling him later. His daughter had answered him under his own hand.

Andie climbed down from the couch suddenly, apparently finished with the miracle.

"Baby Duck tell Craig."

You blinked.

"What?"

She started toward the coffee table where your phone sat.

"Tell Cwaig. Baby knock."

Andrew looked at you. You reached for the phone before Andie could accidentally call emergency services or order a trampoline.

"You want to tell Craig?"

"And Dewan."

"Of course."

Andrew sat back, but only slightly. His hand stayed on your stomach. You opened the group chat. Emergency Contact Chaos. The name had started as Deran's joke and had somehow become official, mostly because no one had bothered to change it. You looked at Andrew.

"Do you want to tell them?"

He hesitated. Then reached for the phone. His thumb hovered over the keyboard for a second. You watched him type.

Andrew: She kicked.

He stared at it. Then sent it. For ten seconds, nothing. Then Craig replied.

Craig: The baby?

Deran followed immediately.

Deran: WHO KICKED WHO

You laughed. Andrew's mouth curved faintly. He typed again.

Andrew: The baby.

Deran: BABY SISTER KICKED YOU??

Craig: Did you feel it?

Andrew looked down at his hand on your bump. Then typed:

Andrew: Yeah.

The typing bubbles appeared instantly. Disappeared. Appeared again. Then Deran sent:

Deran: TINY BABY FIGHT CLUB

Craig: Congratulations. That's big.

Deran: WAIT NO THAT'S ACTUALLY REALLY COOL

Deran: I'M NOT CRYING ABOUT A FETUS KICKING YOU

Deran: CRAIG IS CRYING

Craig: I'm not.

Deran: HE LOOKED EMOTIONAL

Craig: That is not the same thing.

Andie grabbed at the phone.

"Dewan cry?"

You smiled.

"Maybe."

Andrew's thumb moved over the side of the phone. He did not type again. He just looked at the messages. At Craig's simple congratulations. At Deran making it ridiculous because he did not know how to make it anything else. His smile was small. Almost hidden. But it was there. You leaned your head against the couch cushion.

"She kicked you," you said softly.

He looked at you.

"She did."

"For real."

His eyes held yours.

"For real."

Andie tugged on Andrew's sleeve.

"Dada baby knock."

He looked down at her.

"Yeah, baby."

"You happy?"

The question was blunt enough to make you stop breathing for a second. Andrew's face shifted. He crouched slightly, bringing himself closer to her level, even though he was still sitting.

"Yeah."

Andie studied him.

"Dada cry?"

His mouth twitched.

"Not right now."

That seemed acceptable. She patted his cheek.

"Okay."

Then she climbed onto the couch again, this time directly into his lap, Baby Duck wedged between them. Andrew automatically wrapped one arm around her, the other still resting on your bump. Your first daughter curled into his chest like she had always belonged there. Your second daughter stayed quiet beneath his hand.

You watched the three of them and felt something inside you loosen. Not the baby. Something older. Something that had been tied tight since the first positive test of your life, when you had been alone with the result and Andrew had been unreachable in all the ways that mattered.

This was not a replacement. Nothing could be. Andrew had missed pieces of Andie that neither of you could get back. But this was not nothing. This was a new piece. A different one. His to keep.

Andie yawned.

"Baby Duck tired."

"You're tired," you said.

"No."

"You just yawned."

"Duck yawn."

Andrew's mouth brushed the top of her head.

"Bed soon."

"No bed."

"Little bed."

"No little bed."

"You like your little bed."

"No."

"You fought for that bed."

Andie looked offended.

"Duck bed."

Andrew glanced at you.

"You see what I deal with?"

"You negotiated with a doll at two in the morning."

"Baby Duck fell."

"Bad fall," Andie murmured.

Andrew nodded solemnly.

"Bad fall."

The baby gave one last small movement beneath his hand. Andrew's attention snapped down. You felt it too. A smaller nudge. Not as strong. But there. He held his breath. Then let it out slowly.

"She did it again."

You smiled.

"She did."

Andie, already half-asleep against him, lifted her head just enough to say, "Nice feet."

Then dropped back onto his chest. Andrew's laugh was quiet and wrecked. You reached over and brushed your fingers through Andie's hair.

"She's going to be a very bossy big sister."

"She already is."

"She gets that from you."

Andrew looked at you.

"I'm not bossy."

You stared at him. He looked away first.

"Sometimes."

You laughed.

Bedtime took longer than usual. Not because Andie fought it harder. Because Andrew was softer than usual. He moved through the routine like he was trying to hold onto the evening by slowing everything down.

He let Andie choose the pyjamas with the ducks on them even though they were technically in the laundry pile and only had one tiny smudge on the sleeve. He waited while she tucked Baby Duck into the toddler bed first. He stood with one hand on the doorframe while she kissed soft duck, then Baby Duck, then insisted on leaning out of bed to kiss your bump.

"Careful," Andrew said.

"I careful."

"You are lying down sideways."

"I careful."

You sat on the edge of the bed, one hand on your stomach. Andie pressed a sleepy kiss to the bump.

"Night sister. Nice feet."

Your throat tightened.

"Goodnight, baby."

Andie looked at Andrew.

"Dada baby hand."

His eyes flicked to yours. Then he came closer and placed his hand on your stomach. Andie nodded with sleepy authority.

"Baby knock Dada."

Andrew swallowed.

"She did."

"Again tomorrow."

His mouth softened.

"Maybe."

"Again tomorrow please."

"We'll ask her."

Andie settled back with Baby Duck tucked under her chin.

"Ask nice."

"I will."

You leaned down and kissed her forehead.

"Love you."

"Luboo."

Andrew kissed her next.

"Love you, baby girl."

"Luboo Dada."

His eyes closed for half a second. That still got him. Every time.

You waited in the hallway while he turned on the nightlight and pulled the door mostly closed, leaving the tiny gap Andie liked. The hinge did not squeak this time. Different door. Different signal.

Andrew stood there for a moment after it shut. You watched his profile. The quiet hallway light. The line of his shoulders. The hand that flexed once at his side like he could still feel the kick in his palm.

"You okay?" you asked softly.

He looked at the closed door. Then at your stomach.

"Yeah."

You waited.

He glanced at you. You lifted an eyebrow.

His mouth curved faintly.

"I'm trying."

"I know."

"I felt her."

You stepped closer.

"You did."

His voice dropped.

"For real this time."

You reached for his hand. He let you take it. Then he looked down at your joined fingers.

"I didn't have to imagine it."

There it was. Quiet. Rough. Devastating. Your chest tightened so sharply you had to breathe through it.

"Andrew."

His jaw shifted.

"I know you told me things with Andie." He looked toward her door again. "I remember all of it."

"I know you do."

"But it was still..." He struggled for the word, then shook his head slightly. "I had to make pictures out of what you said."

Your eyes burned.

"I'm sorry."

His gaze snapped to yours.

"No."

"Andrew—"

"No." His hand tightened around yours. "You don't apologise for that."

You swallowed. He looked down, breathing once through his nose.

"I'm not saying it right."

"You are."

"I'm not."

You stepped closer until your bump brushed lightly against him. He looked down at it. You placed his hand there.

"She answered you herself tonight."

His face changed. Just like that. The words landed. His thumb moved over your stomach, slow. You could see the effort it took him not to retreat from the feeling. Not because he did not want it. Because he did. Too much. So much it scared him sometimes.

"I didn't miss it," he said.

"No."

His hand stilled.

"I didn't miss that."

"You didn't."

The hallway stayed quiet around you. Andie's white noise hummed behind her door. Downstairs, the television had timed out into silence.

Andrew bent his head and pressed his mouth to your forehead. Not quick. Not brief. A long, steady kiss. When he pulled back, his eyes were wet. This time, one tear did fall. He wiped it away almost immediately, like he had been caught doing something private.

You pretended not to notice. Then changed your mind and touched his cheek where it had been. He leaned into your hand.

"She kicked hard," you whispered.

His mouth twitched.

"She gets that from you."

"Stop assigning all violence to me."

"She kicked me."

"She greeted you."

"That was a greeting?"

"Yes."

"Strong greeting."

"She's enthusiastic."

He looked down at your stomach.

"She can do it again."

"She's probably asleep now."

"I know."

"You're still waiting."

His hand stayed there.

"Yeah."

Your heart broke and healed in the same small place. You pulled him gently toward the bedroom.

"Come on."

He followed.

Later, in bed, Andrew lay with his hand on your stomach. Exactly where the kick had landed. He had moved it only when he had to. To help clean up after dinner. To carry Andie upstairs. To brush his teeth. Then it had returned.

You were on your side, a pillow tucked beneath your bump, Andrew behind you with his chest warm against your back. His hand curved over the side of your stomach, patient in the dark. The baby had not moved for almost an hour. Andrew did not seem to care.

"She's asleep," you murmured.

"I know."

"You're still waiting."

His thumb moved once.

"Yeah."

You smiled into the pillow.

"You know she might not kick again tonight."

"I know."

"You have to sleep at some point."

"I will."

"You say that."

"I will."

"Andrew."

His mouth touched your shoulder.

"I'm not asking her to move."

"No?"

"No."

"What are you doing?"

His hand spread slowly over your stomach.

"Remembering."

Oh.

You went quiet. The room was dark except for the thin line of hallway light under the door. Somewhere down the hall, Andie slept in her toddler bed with Baby Duck tucked under her chin and soft duck guarding her feet.

Your first daughter. Your second daughter. Andrew's hand covering the place where one had answered him from inside your body while the other had sat beside him and called it a knock. You placed your hand over his.

"She'll do it again."

"I know."

"Probably a lot."

"I know."

"Eventually you'll be telling her to stop kicking my ribs."

His mouth curved against your shoulder.

"Probably."

"You'll be less sentimental when she kicks you in the back at two in the morning after she's born."

"No."

"No?"

"No."

"You say that now."

"I missed it."

The words were quiet. Not heavy exactly. Just true. You turned carefully in his arms. He helped, shifting the pillow, steadying you as your bump settled between you. His hand returned immediately. You looked at him in the dark.

"You're allowed to be sad about what you missed," you said.

His eyes held yours.

"And happy about what you get now."

His jaw moved once.

"I know."

"Do you?"

He breathed out.

"I'm learning."

You touched his face.

"That counts."

His eyes softened. The baby moved then. Tiny. So faint you might have missed it if you had not been paying attention. Andrew did not feel it. You knew he did not. His hand stayed still, waiting for something stronger. You smiled.

"What?"

"She moved."

His expression sharpened.

"I missed it?"

"No. It was tiny."

He looked down at his hand.

"That doesn't count."

"It counts for me."

His thumb brushed your bump.

"Okay."

You leaned forward and kissed him. Soft. Slow. Not like earlier days when wanting him had been fire under your skin. This was different. Quieter. Still wanting, maybe. Always. But mostly love. Mostly the ache of seeing him get something he had been denied and not knowing how to hold all the gratitude you had for it. When you pulled back, his forehead rested against yours.

"She answered me," he said.

You smiled.

"She did."

"Under my hand."

"Yes."

His eyes closed. For a while, you stayed like that. Bump between you. Hands together over your daughter. Breath shared in the dark. With Andie, he had learned movement through your voice. Through stories told after the fact. Through the ache of loving someone he could not touch yet and not being able to change that.

This time, there had been no phone line. No glass. No later. This time, he had been there when the whole room went still. When Andie whispered baby knock. When his daughter pressed one small, certain kick into his palm.

This time, she had answered him herself.

And Andrew stayed awake long after you drifted, one hand over your stomach, not asking for more.

Just keeping the answer.

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

That’s what Levi was worried about too. So when he heard the click of the front door opening and closing, he mentally braced for the verbal impact of his fathers anger. 

You heard your husbands footsteps as he walked through the hallway towards where you sat in the living room, laptop open as you jotted down the notes from the zoom calls you had with your patients. Levi was sat on one of the chairs, eyes on his phone as he scrolled, not looking as rough as Robby would’ve thought. 

You looked up when the footsteps stopped, your husband standing in the doorway as he stared at his son. You figure he’s figuring out how to begin the conversation that was coming. His eyes met yours when he noticed your head move out of the corner of his eye. His feet carried him to where you sat, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of head as he rounded the lounge.

That’s when Levi looked up, expression blank as he waited for his dad to speak. That’s not good. He hasn’t even yelled. The silence was unnerving. His eyes followed as his father strolled to take a seat besides you on the lounge. 

“Are you gonna say something?” Your son forced out, becoming more nervous as the silence stretched. He’s fucked. 

You and your husband shared a look, still needing to discuss what you plan to do about this. He’s already told you bits and pieces but you said you’d talk to him when his father got home. 

Those words he dreaded. 

“What the fuck were you thinking?” Robby asked gruffly, too calm for your son’s liking. 

“I wasn’t.” Levi admitted, a little sheepishly and embarrassed. He was embarrassed that he’d ran around campus drunk and naked. Even more embarrassed not that his parents had to get involved. 

“No. You weren’t.” Robby emphasised.

“You’re an idiot.” He added a beat later, not harshly but bluntly. He wasn’t going sugarcoat it. 

“I’m sorry.” He murmured with a small sigh. He was so dead. “I was drunk and stupid and we were talking shit so Bryce said he bet no one would do it.” 

Your son tried to explain. It wasn’t an excuse, he knew it wasn’t excusable. But it’s how it came to happen. 

“And you did?” Robby deadpanned, already knowing the result. 

“Yeah.” 

“Idiot.”

“I know. I won’t do it again.” 

“I’m pissed too but, honey, you have zero place in saying that.” You said knowingly, aware of the dumb shit he’d done at Levi’s age. You hadn’t known him then but his friends didn’t hesitate to share those stories when you’d begun dating all those years ago. 

“Yes I do.” 

You gave him a knowing look, eyebrows raised at him as if he dared to challenge you. 

“Michael.” 

Robby just stared back at you, unflinching. You did not just call him out. He may have done stupid things at his sons age but not like this. You just stared back at him. 

“What’d you do, dad?” Levi asked, breaking the silence. He was intrigued to hear that his father had done some pretty dumb stuff in his youth. 

Robby’s head snapped over to his son, giving him a pointed look. 

“None of your business.” 

Levi knew not to push right now, he’s already in shit, but that information was stored in his mind for a later date. He won’t be forgetting that. 

“Alright, go so your mother and I can discuss what we’re gonna do about this.” Robby waved him off, had enough of this conversation. 

Levi nodded immediately, pleased to have an out. For now anyways. But he’ll take it. He scampered off like a scorned child. 

You closed your laptop and leant forward to place it on the coffee table infront of you. Turning to face your husband, you watched as he ran a hand down his face. 

“What’re you thinking?” You quizzed him gently, aware he’s likely stressed and frustrated. Not that you’re pleased at your son’s actions but it’s not entirely up to you to decide his fate.

“Reckon he’ll get kicked out?” Robby questioned, leaning back against the lounge with a small sigh. He didn’t know what was going to come from this from the school’s perspective. 

“I don’t know. Maybe.” You admitted, truthfully not having a clue. “Maybe he’ll get suspended. Or be on probation.” 

He nodded as you spoke, unaware of how the college will handle it. But he knew there would be consequences. 

“What’re we gonna do about it?” 

Robby looked over at you at your question, letting out a huff as he shook his head. “No idea. No manual for this.” 

“No kidding.” You commented dryly. 

“We could kick him out?” He offered, half-joking. 

“No we won’t.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” 

Neither of you would actually make your kids move out. Not at this age anyways and they’re studying. They’re aiming to build their lives, it’s not like they’re fucking around to get a free ride for life. 

Levi’s literally studying to become a medical scientist. He’s genuinely intelligent. Just doesn’t always use common sense. 

“We don’t have to make any decisions right now.” You added a beat later. It’s getting late and all of this only happened today. It’s a lot to figure out. “Let’s think about it for a bit.”

“Good idea.” 

There was a beat of silence before a smirk tugged at his lips, head leaning closer to yours with a mischievous glint in his eyes. 

“But guess what?” Your husband quizzed, a ghost of a teasing smirk beginning to tug at his lips. 

“What?” You replied, lips quirking up with a hint of amusement. 

“You were right. He said he wouldn’t do it again.” He teased in a murmur, coaxing a light laugh from you. The laugh caused smirk turn into a grin. He’s always loved your laugh. “Guess that means I owe you.” 

“Yeah I think you do.” You teased as he brushed his lips against yours, referring to the messages exchanged earlier today, his calloused hand brought up to rest on your cheek. His lips pressed against yours, mouths moulding together like they have millions of times before. 

When you pulled back, you gave him a quick peck to his lips. 

“Go eat, dinners in the oven.”

“You eat?” He questioned, wanting to make sure you’d eaten. He always did, even when he neglects to eat at work. Though you do send him reminders. 

“Yeah.” You nodded, having gotten into the habit years ago of eating with the kids for when he’d work late. He hadn’t wanted the three of you to wait for him because sometimes it’s unpredictable when he’d actually get home. 

“Good.” He says, pressing a kiss to your lips before getting up and going to the kitchen. 

A few minutes later, you heard quiet footsteps from behind you. 

“Where’re you going?” You called out, not turning around, aware it was Levi trying to sneak out. Normally you wouldn’t mind, he’s an adult. But he had just been arrested for doing something stupid. Not gonna fly right now.

“Nowhere.” He lied, intentionally wincing at being caught. He should’ve known you’d have heard him. He’d stupidly hoped you wouldn’t have. He’d purposely waited for his dad to leave the room. 

You turned your head to see your son frozen in place, as if he were to move he’d get busted. Even though you already had noticed him. You gestured for him to come back. 

He sighed, trudging towards you and hovered by the arm of the lounge. 

“Sit.” 

He did as you asked and took a seat in one of the chairs. His shoulders were tense, as if he were bracing for impact. 

“Please tell me you weren’t about to go get drunk again.” You quizzed him, displeased with the concept of him sneaking out to get drunk after today’s events. 

“Mum…” He started, planning on explaining. He hated that you’d felt the need to ask him that. He did get it but it didn’t feel any better. He’s used to both his parents trusting him. 

“No, seriously.” You cut him off, voice more stern than it usually is. “Look, you can live your life the way you like but you could’ve gotten in some serious trouble, you’re really lucky that you’re not and we don’t know how the schools going to react.” 

“I know. I really am sorry.” Levi said quietly. “You and dad are disappointed.”

“You get we’re upset because we love you, right?” You replied gently, eyebrows slightly furrowed. You could see that he felt awful where things are now. 

“I do.” 

“Everyone makes mistakes, does dumb things.” You added softly. You’re not excusing the behaviour but you’re wanting him to know that mistakes happen.  “You’re a good kid. We just don’t want you do anything that’ll affect your life poorly like that.” 

“Kinda wish he yelled at me, would’ve been easier.” He admitted letting out a rough but quiet breath. He could’ve handled the yelling. The calm disappointment? He was lost. 

You nodded in understanding, knowing how the calm collected disappointment is harder to deal with than anger. Especially when it came from Robby. 

Neither of you noticed that your husband was lurking in the doorway, subtly listening in on the conversation. 

“I know he cares when he yells, I don’t know what to do with this.” He continued, running a hand over his face, very much like how his father does when he’s stressed.  

“He still cares, you’ve always reminded him of himself. He just doesn’t want to see you make mistakes like he had.” You explained, heart aching for your son. You’re still pissed but you did still hate seeing him upset. In many ways, he was a mini-Robby. He looked a lot like his father did at his age and their personalities are rather similar, so sometimes they clash. 

“I guess I get that.” Your son nodded, letting out a dry humourless huff. “Still feels like shit though.”

“I don’t doubt it. Just give him some time, it’s still fresh.” 

“Yeah, true.” 

“And seriously, you’re not going anywhere.” You added seriously, not willing to let him go anywhere. “Not unless it’s to pick up your sister.”

“Yeah, okay.” He nodded, bracing his hands on the arms of the chair, prepared to get up. He hesitated, like was going to say something before shaking his head and standing. He navigated around to reach the entryway where he sees his dad. 

Levi just stared at him for a moment, wondering if he was going to say something. But he doesn’t. Robby claps him gently on the shoulder, a wordless love you. Then passing each other as Robby entered the room, wordlessly sitting back beside you. 

“He’ll be okay.” You murmured gently, leaning your head on his shoulder. His hand taking ahold of yours, fingers interlocking. 

“Yeah.” He murmured, leaning his head against yours as he gave your hand a gentle squeeze. 

The two of you sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes before you broke the silence, mentally exhausted from today’s events. 

“Bed?”

“Yeah.”

A few days later, the review with the school has arrived. Robby can’t make it because of work, it’s ED so let’s be real, slim chance of being able to go. So, it was just you who went with Levi. You’d said you’d call him once the meeting was over, informing him of the outcome. 

He wasn’t necessarily distracted at work but he was preoccupied with thinking about what would happen. His son might be in serious trouble. And yeah, who isn’t worried about that. He didn’t want a dumb mistake to alter his whole life. 

“Alright, what’s bothering you?” Dana asked him bluntly but not unkindly, seeing as he kept checking his phone like he was waiting for something. 

He hadn’t told anyone, besides Jack, that it was today. Dana knew about it but not the when, just that it was happening sometime soon. 

He hummed in questioning as he pocketed the device for what Dana thought was the tenth time in the last 5 minutes. When he processed the question he just waved it off. “Just Levi.” 

“That collage thing today?” 

“Yeah.” He nodded, running a hand down his face. 

Dana nodded in understanding. “No word?”

“Not yet.” He sighed, leaning his forearms against the bench. 

“He’ll be okay.” She assured him, not dismissing his worry but she knows the kid well enough, having met him many times over the years she’s worked with Robby. 

“Maybe.” He sighed, bowing his head before his eyes found her again. Maybe he was stressed over nothing but still, it’s his kid. He’s gonna be worried. 

At his sigh, Dana decided to change the topic. Might distract him for a bit. She knew him well enough to know when he needed to be distracted. 

“Still coming Saturday?” Dana questioned, though was less a question and more you’re not getting out of this. It was her’s and Benji’s 30th wedding anniversary. They decided since it was the big 30, they’d invite close friends and family over for lunch. 

“Wouldn’t miss it.” He said dryly, aware if she wasn’t going to make him go, you certainly were. You love Dana and her family. 

“You’re going. Wife and kids. Haven’t seen them in ages.” She grinned, aware that really, he had no choice in the matter once you’d made your decision. 

“You saw my wife a few days ago.” Robby noted, eyebrows raised knowingly. 

“And? I can’t miss her?” She retorted, pushing her glasses to rest on the top of her head. The grin didn’t fade from her lips.  

“What is it with you two?” He shook his head with a dramatic sigh, mentally rolling his eyes. He was very used to the dynamic between you and the charge nurse. 

“What do you mean?” Dana quizzed in faux-confusion, tilting her head slightly at him. 

“She’s my wife.” Robby emphasised. 

“You sure?” Dana raised her eyebrows, as if to challenge him. 

“Pretty sure.” 

“Maybe she is.”

“Funny.”

“Don’t forget. Saturday at 12.” She pointed a finger at him, narrowing her eyes at him playfully. 

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll all be there.” He rolled his eyes, letting out a dry huff of a chuckle. 

“Good.” She mused, satisfied. “Don’t forget to smile.” 

Before he could whip up a retort, his phone rang. Pulling the device out of his pocket, his eyes read over your name sprawled across the top of the screen. 

He moves to stand upright, shooting Dana a sarcastic smile as he answered the call. He greeted you with a gruff hey, honey, as he made his way to the ambulance bay for some semblance of privacy. 

“Do I have to go?” Levi questioned, having stepped into the living room where you and your husband were sitting. 

The three of you were ready to go, due to your need to leave ontime. Being late was something you hated. 

“Yes.” You replied without hesitation. Considering he’s been suspended for a couple weeks and put on probation for six months, thanks to his very convincing apology and agreeance to do community service for the collage, he doesn’t really have a leg to stand on here. 

“Why?”

“Because you got suspended and you have to listen to us.” Your husband answered, providing your shared son with a knowing look. 

“Is this gonna be a thing forever?” Levi questioned, already understanding he was in deep shit with the school and you both. But he really wished it would just fade. Wishful thinking on his part. 

“For now.”

“Why isn’t Alannah coming?” He quizzed after, having noted his sister wasn’t home yet. She was meant to be going to Dana’s as well. 

“She is. Just a bit later.” You answered, glancing over at him. You’d just received a message from your daughter, letting you know she’d be late and to apologise to Dana for her. 

“She gets to be late?”

“You want an answer to that?” 

“No.”

“Holy shit, it’s Robby’s wife.” Santos murmured to Whitaker and Javadi, the three of them hanging around together in the backyard. She noticed you and Robby wander through the back door with Dana by your side, the two of you idly chatting as your husband followed. 

“You’ve seen her before.” Javadi said knowingly, giving the other woman an odd look. 

“For like five seconds.” Santos rolled her eyes. “I wanna ask her why the fuck she married that lunatic.”

“Maybe don’t call her husband a lunatic to her face?” Whitaker offered, not feeling like his friends plan was a very smart one. But not like he could stop her. 

“She might agree tho—wait…” Santos began to retort before stopping abruptly. She noticed a third presence, a younger man walking besides your husband. Same height and very similar features. 

It took her a second to process the scene infront of her. 

“No fucking way.” She murmured a beat later, eyes widening in disbelief. She really had half-thought maybe he didn’t actually have kids. Sure, you’d showed up in ED the other day to talk about him. But she just couldn’t imagine Robby as a dad. 

“It’s like they hit copy paste.” Javadi added in shock, taking in the sight of father and son. She didn’t doubt that the two of you did have kids. But she didn’t expect your son to look so much like his dad.

A few feet away, Levi tilted his head towards his dad.

“Why are people staring at me?” He asked in a murmur, having felt eyes on him for the last couple minutes. He can’t decide if he should be worried that they knew about his incident or if they’re staring for some other reason. 

Robby hummed in questioning, glancing at his son. Processing the question, his eyes glanced around and noticed the shocked looks of his residents and student doctor. He lightly chuckled and shook his head as his eyes went back to Levi. 

“Residents.” He explained to his son, who glanced at the three gawking sets of eyes. “Likely shocked.”

“Why?” Levi questioned, eyes back on his father. He didn’t get why they’d be shocked. 

“They didn’t know about you or your sister until a few days ago.” Robby explained further, eyes moving back to the three as he shot them a sarcastic smile. 

He laughed to himself as the three scrambled to act like they weren’t staring. Santos and Javadi almost ran into each other as Whitaker looked up at the sky, as if it were the most interesting thing. 

That answer didn’t necessarily surprise Levi. He knew how private his dad was. He remembers when he’d come to emergency a few years ago with a fractured wrist and the current residents had gawked, shocked to find out his father indeed had children. 

Apparently they didn’t know about his mother either, which Levi had been surprised about. He picked up on how much his father loved his mother at a young age. He figured that everyone would know about the wife he can’t get enough of. 

He never talks about anything unless prompted, he figured that out years ago when he was telling his dad about something that happened at school. His father responding with a similar story from his own experience in school, prompting a conversation about his schooling years. Before that, he hadn’t really heard much about his dad's life before he was born. 

“And mum?” Levi quizzed, wondering if these lot of residents knew about his mother. 

“Pretty sure your mum knows about you and your sister.” 

“Funny.” Levi responded dryly, used to his dad's dry jokes. Or attempts. 

“No, they didn’t.” Robby confirmed, eyes wandering over to where you were still chatting with Dana. As much as he’d prefer you conversing with him and being in your presence, he loves the friendship you have with her. The two of you have been close since you met years ago. 

“Mum’s gonna leave you.” Levi said absentmindedly, noting his father’s eyes on you. It was something he was used to by now. 

“What?!” His father’s head snapped towards him, eyes wide. His mind raced, heart speeding up. You weren’t actually leaving him, right? You fight sometimes but never that bad. Had you said something to Levi? 

“For Dana.” Levi grinned, amused at the reaction he’d gotten from his father. He didn’t really think he’d have taken it that seriously, but he was so glad he did. 

“You’re as evil as your mother.” His father retorted dryly, though having let out a breath of relief when he realised his son was joking. 

“What? You have a husband, she can’t have a wife?”

“I don’t have a husband.”

Levi gives him a knowing look.

“Uncle Jack?”

“Not you too.” Robby sighed gruffly, running a hand over his face. You’ve said that plenty of times to him. He didn’t think or want his kids joining in on that. 

“Tell me I’m wrong.”

“You’re wrong.”

“Denial.” Levi murmured with a faux-cough, still grinning.

“Go and talk to someone else.” Robby waved him off, done with this conversation. If he was going to be teased about this, then he’d prefer it from his wife. 

Levi wasn’t shocked and let out a huff of a chuckle as he wandered off to find someone else to talk to. At the same time, Robby made his was over to you, his large hand taking place on your waist as he pressed a kiss to your head.

“So your wife was just telling me that—“

“Dana.” You warned in faux-seriousness, giving her a knowing look. To which, she just grinned in response with a shrug, keeping her mouth shut.

“What?” Your husband questioned, glancing between the two of you. 

“Nothing, love.” You assured him, leaning up to press a kiss to his scruffy bearded cheek. 

“Yeah, it’s nothing.” Dana agreed, waving it off. Though internally, she wanted to laugh.

“You sure?” Robby questioned you, eyes briefly glancing over at the other woman. 

“Very sure.” You nodded, wanting to laugh yourself.

He looked at you for a few moments before shaking his head. Nope. Not doing this. 

“Tell me.” He said to you, already almost having a heart attack with Levi before, he can’t have the not knowing here. Levi had been kidding but what if he wasn’t? 

“Seriously, it’s nothing.” You assured him, placing a hand on his chest gently. 

“Sweetheart, please.”

“It’s nothing, Michael.” 

“Robinavitch, I’m messing with you.” Dana cut in, noting that Robby seemed actually worried. 

“Why does this keep happening to me today?” He groaned, tilting his head back with his eyes closed. 

“What?” You questioned, eyebrows furrowing slightly. 

Your husband let out a small sigh, eyes training back on you. 

“Levi said you were leaving me.” He admitted. Admitting that sounded stupid logically but the idea freaked him out. 

“What? I’m not leaving you.” You assured him without hesitation. You weren’t leaving him. You certainly weren’t planning on it. But you couldn’t resist the joke you added. “If I did, it’d be for Dana.”

“That’s what he said.”

“Smart kid.”

His eyes narrowed at you, though held no heat. 

“Seriously, though. I’m not going anywhere.” You assured him softly, pressing a soft quick kiss to his lips. “We were talking about Dana’s daughters new girlfriend. She hasn’t met her yet but she’ll be here soon and she’s excited to meet her.” 

“Okay.” He murmured with a sigh, relieved that the fears had been wrong. Sometimes Levi was too much like you. Sometimes he was too much like him. 

“There she is!” Dana exclaimed, noting her daughter making her way through the back door into the yard. Besides her was a girl around her age, the two holding hands. She looked familiar. Very familiar. 

Yours and Robby’s heads turned to follow Dana’s eyes. Both your eyes widened in surprise. 

“Alannah?” You said in surprise and honestly, it was joyful surprise. 

You didn’t know your daughter was actively in a relationship. She was private about her love life since turning eighteen, maybe mentioning a date here and there. Now 20, she’d never really mentioned anything. Including that she liked girls. 

“Mum? Dad?” Your daughter asked in shock. Her girlfriend’s parents anniversary was the same one she’d been planning to show up to in a few hours? 

The two young women walked towards the two of you. Dana’s daughter was surprised too. She didn’t know her parents knew her girlfriends. 

“Hi Dana.” Alannah said a little sheepishly, not having seen her in a few years but remembering her. She never actually met her kids, not that she knew of. So the fact she was dating her daughter, that was a twist. 

“Lana, honey, good to see you.” Dana smiled, offering the girl a hug, which was accepted. 

You and Robby glanced at each other in surprise, both shocked your daughter was in a seemingly serious or almost serious relationship. You’d figured she’d been dating, not that you’d officially know because she never mentioned it. But nothing serious. You’d been wrong.

When the two pulled back, Dana greeted her daughter with a hug. 

“Um, so…” Your daughter stuttered slightly, trying to figure out how to go about this. “…this is my girlfriend.” 

She really didn’t expect for you both to meet her girlfriend today. Or even know about her until she was ready to talk about it. She wasn’t embarrassed or worried about your reactions. She knows you’re both accepting, always have been. But she just had wanted to keep this to herself for a while.

“It’s lovely to see you again.” You said to Dana’s daughter with a smile, giving her a hug that she returned. You hadn’t seen her since she was in high school, the last time you’d seen any of Dana’s daughters. 

“You too.” She replied, giving you and Robby a smile. Her hand made its way back to Alannah’s, the two interlocking fingers. 

“Are you mad?” Alannah asked, a little nervous that you’d be mad that she hadn’t said anything. 

“No. Not at all.” You assured her soft and sincerely. You weren’t mad, shocked, but not mad. You don't see why you would be mad.

“Really?” She asked in surprise, thinking you and her dad would be mad you’d kept this from her.

“Lana, your mother kept me a secret for a year.” Robby jumped in, letting out a light chuckle at the memory. 

You’d been so nervous to introduce him to your mother and stepfather that you’d just never mentioned him to them. Sure, you’d had boyfriends before, but they’d been assholes. So, introducing him was scary for you. 

It was a full 12 months until you’d mentioned him to them. Properly anyways. You hadn’t been living with them, instead sharing an apartment with a friend so they wouldn’t really know how you spent half the time at his place. 

“Wait, really?!” She quizzed in shock. She wouldn’t have imagined that. Her maternal grandma loves her dad, she knows that. Her maternal grandfather (she knows he’s your step-dad but doesn’t think of him that way and neither do you) seems to like him. 

“Yeah. Your mum was nervous.” Robby explained with a ghost of a grin. He remembered how you’d kept putting it off, worried they’d hate him. “Which is crazy because I’m a doctor and parents love doctors.”

“You were a med student, there’s a difference.” You added dryly, though giving him an amused grin. 

“Semantics.”

“Anyways. What you’re dad is trying to say, is we understand.” You said a beat later, returning to the conversation at hand. “I’m sorry it happened sooner than you’d like.”

“No, it’s okay.” Alannah shook her head gently, actually rather relieved. She’d been stressing over figuring out how to bring it up, the dating and liking girls thing. “I’m glad you guys know.”

“Yeah?” You asked her softly, honestly happy she wasn’t upset. You’re happy to know she was in a relationship where she was happy. You’d seen the nervous smile on her lips as they’d walked through the door. It reminded you of when Robby had gone to meet your parents. He’d been nervous but excited. Just like how Alannah had been. 

“Yeah.” She replied with a small nod and a smile. She meant it. 

Before you could say anything more, your husband swept her up on a hug. It caught both you and her off guard. His arms were around her tightly, she returned to wrap her arms around his torso. 

“I’m so glad you don’t like men.” He murmured to her, pressing a kiss to her head before resting his cheek ontop of it. 

“I do. But I like girls too.” She responded with a light chuckle. She’s figuring out her sexuality but she thinks she might be pansexual, not really minding gender but instead the person themselves. 

“You have a girlfriend. I’m pretending you don’t.” 

She pulled back and looked at her father, genuinely so happy he was so accepting but also amused by his reaction.

“Dad.” She said with amusement. “I have a girlfriend but I’ve dated men too.”

“Don’t tell me that.” He groaned playfully as he moved back to your side, hand taking ahold of yours. “I’ll have a heart attack.”

"Should I remind you—"

“Okay, enough or your poor old father might actually have a heart attack.” You said with a soft chuckle. 

“You’re not that far off, honey.” He joked, shooting you a look to which you raised your eyebrows at him. 

Alannah stifles a laugh, knowing he was going to be in shit for that comment. 

“I love you very much and you haven't aged a day since I met you.” 

“Nice save.” Alannah murmured with amusement, glancing at her girlfriend who was seemingly hiding a laugh herself. 

“Alright, enough with this.” Dana cut in with a chuckle, taking ahold of her daughters hand and begun to drag her away. “I’m going to talk to my daughter and her girlfriend.” 

The two girls began to follow her, your daughter shotting you a look that said thank you. You smiled at her, fondness in your eyes as Dana dragged the two away. 

“You still love me, right?” Robby questioned after the three went to chat. He was half-joking, half-thinking you decided not to love him after that comment.

“For some reason.” You retorted dryly. But you leant up and pressed a kiss to his lips, a small grin ghosting across your own lips. 

“I’ll take that.”

The med student and two residents share subtle looks, watching the interaction. 

“Is my husband around?” You asked Dana, glancing around to see if he was nearby. It was never predictable where he might be. It’s not uncommon for him to not answer his phone when he works and you don’t blame him. It’s understandable. But it’s rare for you to show up at the department, that usually means it’s important.

The three watching noticed your eyes wandering, quickly busying themselves. Santos and Javadi looked at the same computer, as if they were reading results together. While Whitaker fumbled with the chart he’d picked up. The two women look at him in disbelief and annoyance. Smooth. 

“Trauma one. He’s in a mood.” Dana pre warned you, giving you a knowing look. You weren’t surprised by the fact, very aware how moody Robby can be when he’s stressed. 

“Not surprising.” You huffed out a dry laugh. “When isn’t he?”

“True that.” The charge nurse hiffs, knowing you'd understand more than anyone. But you’re able to diffuse him unlike anyone else. 

“Alright if I hang around?” You asked, knowing the answer but much preferring to be sure instead of assuming. 

“Of course.” Dana assured you, well aware you don’t like to presume but instead hear directly. Everyday is different in the ED. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, just Levi.” You explained, not details but enough for her to understand that something had happened. Your son could get into his own mess these days, he’s 22 and at college, figuring out his life. Didn’t mean he didn’t avoid doing dumb shit. 

Before Dana could respond, her mouth hanging open before shutting as a painstakingly familiar voice rang out. 

“What’re you doing here?” You heard your husband’s gruff voice, head turning as he wandered up beside you. He pressed a kiss to your head before his eyes returned to your face. Concern was etched across his features, worried that something was wrong. You didn’t show up here without a reason. 

Javadi tried to not look invested but she was, Robby was married? Santos and Whitaker thinking the same thing. And this woman is his wife? No way. That can’t be right. 

“Your son decided that getting drunk and running around campus was a good idea.” You informed him dryly. This is the second time you've talked about this. Not that you were angry but more annoyed. You had to leave work, because Robby couldn’t, to go and get him from the police station by his campus. “Naked.”

“Why is he always my son when he does something stupid?” Robby inquired in disbelief before shaking his head immediately. It was too early for this, barely 8:30am.  “Actually, don’t answer that.”

He knew that if either of you had passed the doing something dumb gene, it was him. He had never done something quite like that but he was the more reckless between the two of you. He didn’t need to have his workplace hear about some of the dumb things he’s done in his 20s. 

Levi isn't a bad kid. Just tends to do dumb things.

Javadi, Whitaker and Santos all shared glances in utter shock. This man has a son? A kid? No way. They don't believe they’d heard this correctly. 

“Anyways. He’s alright. But he called Jack who called me.”

“Fuck.” Your husband signed, hanging his head low before looking back at you. “You going to get him?”

He gave you a look that said you gonna go or… not to rush you out but instead to figure out why you were hanging around with your shared son behind local station bars. 

“Yeah.” You nodded, pausing before you explained absentmindedly. “Letting him sweat a bit.”

“You’re evil.” He commented dryly. 

“It’s why you married me.” You grinned. 

He huffed a soft yet dry laugh. He won’t even deny it. Your nature was one of the many reasons he’d fallen inlove with you in the first place. He knows how incredible of a mother you are. He’s cherished raising children with you. He’d never seen you so soft and loving. He sometimes still found it hard to believe you had married and had kids with him. 

But he was aware that you weren’t going to let this stint slide. 

“That’s why you’re here?” He quizzed, almost a little amused, though pissed that his son had done something so stupid. This would be something you two would discuss with him later. 

“Partially. But thought I'd tell you before Jack blabs at shiftchange.” You answered, not going to have spoken to him later about this. It was too important. And you knew Jack would’ve let him know this evening. Better if it comes from you. 

Jack has been a staple in your kids' lives since he’d met Robby years ago. When Robby had started working at PTMC as an attending, you’d been pregnant with your second child. When Jack had joined a few years later, your kids were 8 and 6 at the time. He’d immediately grown attached, loving them like they were his own. They adored him, not having a day without him since (minus when he’d been in the army and deployed). 

As much as he loves them, he made it clear he wouldn’t keep things from you and Robby. Especially when it’s important. He loved them. But he loves you both too. All of you are like his family. He wasn’t going to lie. 

“Good thinking.” He nodded, appreciative you’d told him instead of letting him be blindsited later. 

“I’ll head out.” You said, wanting to get this whole thing sorted and just get back home. Not like you’d go back to the office. Thankfully your appointments were all via zoom today, it helped. “Hopefully won’t take too long but i’ll let you know.”

“Alright, thanks.” Robby replied, pressing a kiss to your forehead. It was something he always did when you’d separate for the day. “See you after work.”

“I love you.” You said softly, leaning up to press a quick kiss to his lips.

“I love you, honey.”

You waved goodbye to him and Dana, turning back around and heading back to your car. 

“You’re married?” Santos blurted in disbelief, unable to keep it in. Whitaker nudged her with his elbow in panic, she should not have said that. 

He looks over at her, pulling the chain out from under his undershirt. The chain dangled with a gold band hanging from it. His wedding ring. “26 years.” 

He doesn’t hide he’s married. He just doesn’t find himself needing to share that information unwarranted. He loves his wife and kids but he prefers to keep his family outside of the workplace. So if he’s not prompted, he doesn't talk about them. 

“How… when … what?” Santos stammered, in disbelief he’s been married. To you. For 26 years. 

“You didn’t know?” Langdon quizzed the three as he wandered to the desk, amused at their shocked expressions.

“Don’t act like you didn’t react the same way when you found out.” Dana mused, shooting Langdon a knowing look. 

He can’t even deny it. When he discovered his attending’s long-lasting marriage, he was shocked. The man didn’t seem emotionally capable. But must've been wrong. He’s grown to know that over the last few years when he’d seen you two interact. 

Robby is a man inlove. 

“How’d you meet?” Javadi mustered up the courage to ask, curious to hear how you’d met. Especially since you’d been married for so long. 

Robby huffed a laugh at the memory, recalling the evening you’d met. It was forever seared into his memory.

1995.

Robby was out with a couple of his med school classmates for a rare night out between rotations. Being a MS3 was intense, going from classroom to real direct-contact work with patients. 

The four of them were mostly sharing how their recent rotation had been. They’d all been put into different specialties. Paediatrics, orthopaedics, cardiology and gastroenterology. 

He was mid laugh when his eyes glanced over the room, eyes locking on you. It felt like his breath had been pulled from his lungs. 

You were out with friends for a monthly catch up. Since you’d both graduated and begun your career’s, you rarely get to spend time together. The two of you made it a point to organise a once a month where you’re both free to catch up in person. Talking on the phone can only do so much for a friendship sometimes. 

The two of you were chatting, discussing recent events in your lives. She was halfway through telling you about an incident at her new job. 

“God, can you believe it?” She said in disbelieving scoff. “I mean, who in their right mind thinks that it’s okay to show up drunk and deny the whole thing, it's just dumb to try and gaslight your boss.”

“That’s so fucked. Please tell me he was fired. Or at least suspended.” You said in disgust, already hating whoever this guy was.

“I wish.” Your friend shook her head in annoyance. She went to take a sip of her drink, to realise it was empty. “But I will say that I need another drink.”

“I’ll get some.” You said as you stood up with a chuckle, grabbing your wallet. Though you gave her a playfully pointed look. “Don’t venture anywhere.”

“No promises.” she teased, though not really planning to go anywhere. She was the type to just wander away without prompt. But honestly, so are you. She’s just worse than you, especially when intoxicated. 

You chuckled and rolled your eyes at the tease, but accepted it. It's normal for the two of you, the teasing. But you do hope she won’t venture far if she decides to. 

You made your way to the bar, sliding up between a tall man and a woman, there being a gap. They weren’t interacting so you took it as a safe spot to choose. It didn’t take long for the bartender to make it to you, barely 30 seconds.

“What can I get for ya?” He asked, leaning forward slightly to make sure he could hear you. It wasn’t too loud but to be safe. 

“Vodka lemonade and a vodka coke please.” You asked kindly, always making sure to be nice to staff. He nodded and got to making the drinks.

Robby glanced down at you when he heard the honeyed voice. Oh shit. It’s you. He made an effort not to stare at you from a distance when he’d noticed you earlier. He’s not shy but he respects you’d been with a friend and he’d been with his. He barely noticed the bartender he’s spoken to before, placing the beers he’d asked for in front of him. 

“Thanks.” He said to the guy but he made no effort to move. He glanced down at you again, at the same time your eyes had flickered up to him. You gave him a smile before looking back ahead of you, eyes seemingly glancing around behind the bar. 

Robby’s attention went back to the bartender as he dug out a few bills and handed them over. He gestured with his head towards you besides him. “Her’s too.”

The bartender nodded, not really having much of a thought as he put the money through, conversing with the other bartender for what you’d asked for to figure out the total cost. 

Your head had snapped up towards him, eyebrows slightly furrowed. You’ve had guys offer to buy you drinks, your friend too. Though never had been quite as forward as this. 

“That’s awfully nice of you.” You commented dryly, looking up at him. You were a little suspicious. But you can't help but think of how gorgeous he is. It’s not actually fair. “What’s the catch?”

“No catch.” He said honestly, offering you a grin that made your heart skip a beat. Fuck this guy. 

“But it got you talking to me.” He added a beat later, that breathtaking grin widening a smidge. 

“Ah, so that was your plan, huh?”

“No, kinda just happened in the moment.” He said with a shrug, grin not faltering. It wasn't a total lie. He had been thinking about ways he could start a conversation with you. He normally can do without ease. But you’d made him throw away the idea of using shitty pickup lines. 

“In the moment.” You chuckled, a grin of your own forming. Somehow you could tell it wasn’t a complete lie, but he wasn’t telling the whole truth. For not, you wouldn’t question it. As gorgeous as he is, you didn’t plan on hanging around long. You had your friend to get back to. 

“That hard to believe?” He teased, having noted you seemed to be somewhat amused. 

“Nope, but you can’t tell me you don’t already have a list of pick-up lines ready to go.” You joked, but half-meaning it. He was unfairly attractive and you’re sure he knew it. No doubt he could easily get a girl’s attention. 

The bartender placed your drinks in front of you. Thanking him, you turned back to the man you’d been interacting with. 

“You got me.” He chuckled, not going to deny it. “But they don’t seem like something you’d be interested in”

“Now that's a line.” You laughed, grin turning into a genuine smile. 

That smile? That nearly stopped his heart. 

“Maybe it is.” He said with a light laugh, not denying but not having intended on it being that way. But really, anything to make sure you kept smiling like that. He leant his head slightly forward towards you, speaking in a conspiratorial murmur. “Did it work?”

“I’m not at liberty to answer that.” You chuckled, unwilling to admit that maybe it was. It might just be his pretty face. But you weren’t immune. 

“Besides, I have my friend to get back to.” You added, gesturing over to your friend. When your eyes landed on her, she seemed to be occupied with a guy. The two close together as they seemed in deep conversation. Good for her.

“Ah, that's one of mine.” he chuckled, eyes having followed where you’d directed and seeing it was one of his friends with your friend. He hadn’t quite anticipated his friend chatting with yours. But it certainly seemed to work in his favour here so he won’t complain. 

“Yeah?” You quizzed but weren’t completely convinced he hadn’t coordinated that. 

“Not my doing. Promise." He chuckled, raising his hands in faux-defence, sensing you thought it may have been. He meant it, genuinely not having a single thing to do with the situation. But he thought of it as good luck. 

Your eyes drifted back to him, eyebrows raised. You looked at him for a few beats before grabbing your friend's drink and one of his beers. “Don’t move.”

He didn’t say anything as you left him, and your own drink. Not a smart move but it hadn’t even occurred to you in the moment. You made your way back to the table your friend was at, placing the drinks down in front of her and her guest. You subtly winked at her before you turned back and headed towards the drink and man you’d left.

As you slid back besides him, he felt elated. He hadn’t felt this excited to just talk to a woman in well … ever. 

“Gonna tell me your name or am i gonna have to guess?”

“Michael. But you can call me Robby.”

“I don’t see how that correlates.” You mused, raising an eyebrow at him. You don't exactly see how those names worked together. Robby? You think Robert. 

“Robinavitch.” he explained with a chuckle, eyes dazzling. 

“Ah, gotcha.” You nodded with another light chuckle. Last name. You told him your name in return. 

He repeated your name, letting it roll off of his tongue. He liked it. It was your name after all. 

The two of you converesed. You discussed your lives, work, study, friends, hobbies. You discovered he was a third year med student, just completing a rotation in cardiology. He mentioned he liked the idea of emergency, wanting to help people at the hardest point of their lives. You respected it, understood it even. You were hanging onto every word he spoke, enjoying the words rolling off his lips and interested in what he was saying. That hasn’t happened in a long time.

He discovered you had graduated with a bachelor of psychology last year, now practising as such as you worked on completing your masters of clinical psychology. You explained how you want to conduct cognitive clinical assessments for patients who think they might have ADHD, autism and anything else that might support patients understand what is going on inside their brains. You didn’t go into details but you had admitted you’d had your own struggles with mental health. That being a huge part of wanting to support others with theirs. You wanted to work in a few areas of psychology, he had gathered. 

You two spoke for hours. Literally hours. About everything and nothing at the same time. You joked, had serious topics at hand and discussed absolutely anything either of you could think of. 

You checked the time on the wall with a glance, realising it was nearing 12am. God, you’d been talking to him since about 9, knowing you’d been here since at least 8 when you and your friend had arrived. Neither of you even touched your drinks, both just sitting there useless. 

“Not to cut this short…” You said with a light huff as you got up from the seat you’d been on. Eventually the two of you had drifted to an empty table, finding it more comfortable to be seated as you chatted. But he would’ve happily stood there in discomfort if he got to hear your voice. Not that he’d admit that. “...but I should go, it's nearly 12.”

He looked at the clock as you spoke, eyes widening in surprise. It had been 3 hours? That’s how long he’d been talking to you. It felt like it had been 30 minutes. His eyes drifted back to you, not going to argue. He should probably find out if his friends are still here or not. You’d both noticed yours and his friend leaving earlier, so you didn’t need to worry about her being alone. 

“Yeah, it was great talking to you.” He said with a soft smile. He was disappointed you were leaving but he understood. And he wasn’t going to make assumptions. Not with you. Other women he may have made some sort of line, getting them to go home with him or vice versa to never see them again the next day. But he didn’t want to do that with you. 

“You too.” You replied with a smile of your own. “Bye, Michael.”

“Bye.” He smiled, his lips tugging wider at the use of his first name. Not his nickname. But his name. He watched as you waved and made your exit, eyes trailing you as you walking out the front door. He let out a small sigh, disappointed you were gone. He realised a moment later that he hadn’t even asked for your number. The thought slipped. Likely to avoid the anxiety. He;d never been anxious to ask a girl for her number before. 

Meanwhile, the cold air was a welcomed slap to the face from the heat of inside the bar. It was soothing. But you couldn’t help the disappointment you felt. You had really begun to like him. You’d spoken for hours. Not like you’d spilled your entire life story. But still, you thought something was there. Something you hadn’t felt before. Not with your exes. 

You became annoyed. Had he not felt that? Or did he? Either way, he didn’t ask for any form of contact details for you. 

With a huff, you turned back inside and marched towards him. 

Robby was shocked when he saw your figure storming towards him. He had just stood up to go in search for his friends. 

“Okay. We have something. There’s this … this… I don't know … spark. It's there.” You ranted, eyes wide as you looked up at him. You wished you could blame it on the alcohol because this was not something you did. But you couldn’t help but blurt this at him. You can be embarrassed later. “We’ve been talking for hours. Literal hours. And you don’t ask for my number? Seriously? What the fuck?!”

His eyes were wide in shock as you spoke before softening. He hadn't exactly anticipated you running back to tell him off. It was hot. A soft grin tugged at his lips at each word you said. 

“What?” You asked him in annoyance, arms now crossed over your chest. 

“Is it too late to ask for your number?” He questioned, a hint of tease mixed in the hope in his voice. He had wanted to ask but had been caught off guard by you leaving. He was nervous at the prospect. What if you’d said no? That’d have just about broken his heart. 

“You’re asking now?” You asked dryly. “Because I yelled at you?”

“First, you didn't yell. You firmly stated your annoyance.” He corrected genuinely but firmly  “second, i wanted to but i got nervous.”

“Nervous?” you quizzed, not quite believing that. He hadn’t been nervous the entire time you’d spoken to him. Not openly anyways. 

“Yeah. Nervous.” He admitted without shame. “Beautiful girl I've been talking to all night rejects me? That's nerve-wrecking.”

“Enough with the lines.” You responded dryly. He hadn’t really given you lines but that didn’t automatically exclude him from going to use them. 

“Not a line. I'm serious.” Robby said, sincerity seeping through his voice. His eyes didn’t leave yours. He wanted you to know he wasn’t trying to be smooth. Just honest. 

You stared at him for a few moments, debating if you could trust it. He sounded painfully sincere. You don’t think you can fake this kind of honestly. 

“Still want my number?”

Present. 

“I love her.” Javadi rushed out immediately, then flushing with embarrassment as she realised she said that outloud. Her hand covered her mouth in shock at her own words. 

Robby just chuckled, which surprised her and the two residents. 

“She’s incredible.” He commented fondly. His mind reeled with thoughts of you. Both from recent years and the early times of your relationship. 

“Careful, you’re sounding human.” Dana joked, though she had grown fond of the dynamic between you and the attending. He was practically a different person with you. Your kids too. 

“Don’t let my daughter hear that, she’ll use it against me.” He joked back, having broken out of his thoughts and preferring the humour based dynamic in the workplace. He didn’t need to be vulnerable here. Not about his family.

Before anyone could respond, he headed off. Intending to see a patient, check in to see how his residents are doing. But he’d instead slowed his moments and pulled out his phone, pulling up your text chain.  

Husband <3: if he claims he was dared, you’re going to let me eat you out Wife: if he says that he’s made a mistake and won’t do it again, you’ll eat me out Husband <3: deal

“I’m sorry … DAUGHTER?!” 

He heard the disbelief of his resident, ignoring the question and instead pocketing his phone continuing on his day. He’s the chief attending here. At home? He’s just a man who’s obsessed with his wife.

they start off strong with their taunts. “you payin’ her sammy?” and “how much prison time did ya threaten her with if she didn’t date you?”. sammy is beet red at this point. he’s about to snap and pull up the sex tape the two of you made last night where you were sobbing from how good he made you feel, when the new rookie chimes in. “yeah bryant. do you even know what to do with all that?”

“of course i do!” his angry yell rings out through the backyard. everyone turns their head at the noise. sammy looks around sheepishly at the wide eyes he gets. he finds yours that are filled with concern “everything okay sammy?”. he nods once, then turns back to the grill as the other detectives double over in laughter.

little do they know, on the other side of the pool you’re telling the other women that sammy bryant knows exactly what to do with ‘all that’.

"you've seriously gotten a noise complaint!?" one of the wives asks you. you giggle through your response, probs too tipsy and oversharing. "we've gotten so many i stopped keeping track! what can i say? he always makes me scream." all jaws drop to the floor, mascara'd eyes blowing wide at your words. "really?" a blonde asks you in disbelief. you scoff and shrug casually as if what you're about to say is the bare minimum. “big time. it’s because he makes sure i come at least twice before he even tries to have sex. never settles ladies." all female eyes curiously trail across the yard to your boyfriend with a newfound respect for the man that apparently keeps you more than satisfied.

you're feeling wayyy too comfortable at this point, so you're a little glad when you hear sammy's voice cut through your next admission. "oh and! he does this thing with his tongue that makes me literally black out right when he-" "baby?" your head snaps to your boyfriend who is now only a few feet away. he has a plate of food put together for you of everything you like without you even having to ask. all the women clock it, then glare at their partners who are already eating at the outdoor table. sammy looks very flushed as he hands it to you, most definitely from hearing your words.

actually, all of the detectives hear your words. but not from you. nope, sammys coworkers got an earful about your amazing sex life later that night at home from their spouses. the next day at the station, they all stare at sammy as if they've never seen him before.