*~*~*~*

Hearing a piercing shriek, Bobby looks up from his paper, smiles and shakes his head.

"Nope, not listening, you're on your own," he says and returns to the paper. His eyes peer over the edge to see the reaction of his son. With a smile, Bobby watches the child's frustration as he looks from his father to the toy that's currently out of reach.

In order to make room for them to play, Bobby had pushed the coffee table against the wall. After a rigorous game of catch, that had involved Bobby throwing a ball and fetching it again, all while being ignored. Bobby, becoming worn out, had given up trying to get the baby's attention, when the ball landed on the table. Needing a break, he'd sat on the couch, reached for the newspaper and begun to read, only to then be invited into the game.

Unfortunately for Little Bobby, his father no longer plans to play. Well, that's not exactly true; the game Bobby's now invested in is testing his son's frustration level. He watches as the child stands by the table, stretches his arm as far as it can go and misses the ball by at least three inches, before he then does a little dance, testing each leg to see if he can reach further on just that one, changing hands, he tries again, fails, bobs down then stands again as if hoping this time he'll be tall enough. When all his exertions prove fruitless he turns again to his father and screams at the top of his lungs.

"Nope, I'm reading," Bobby says this time, and chuckles at the determination on his sons face as he hits the table with his hand and grunts trying to lift his leg high enough to climb on. Considering the table is chest level, he fails miserably. Letting out another frustrated boom he moves along the table for a try at another angle.

"Da da da!" he calls, pointing to the ball.

"What, what, what?" Bobby replies, rustling his paper in an act of nonchalance.

Bobby loves watching his son's thought processes. He is constantly amazed when this tiny little helpless being demonstrates a mind and will of his own. He's a problem solver, that's for sure, and a devious one at that. Bobby loves setting him little challenges and waiting to see what will win; his determination or his frustration. So far it appears the baby has more patience than either of his parents; it takes a lot longer before he starts to screech than it does for either Bobby or Lindsay when they aren't getting their way. This game, already ten minutes old, is truly testing his endurance.

Bobby watches him take a deep, deep breath, then let it all out in an ear splitting bellow. He isn't surprised it brings Lindsay rushing into the room. She's still towel drying her hair from having been in the shower, and showing concern, asks, "What the hell are you doing to him?"

"Nothing," Bobby says, "It's the ball he can't reach that's bugging him."

"Oh yeah, that's why he's shooting daggers at you," she laughs. Sitting, she watches the display that's been amusing Bobby for so long.

"That's it Buddy," Bobby calls out as he watches a leg rise higher than before. Smiling proudly at Lindsay, he says, "Look at him go, he's almost climbing the table."

"Teach him to climb, Bobby, and that will be the end of you reading the paper when your alone with him; it's full alert time once their climbing on everything. Just remember, the higher they go, the harder they fall."

Bobby quickly looks back at the baby, "Hey Buddy, look ... I've got another one." He draws a ball out from behind his back and rolls it over to him. It hits the table leg and rolls away. The baby drops to all fours and chases after it. "Walk!" Bobby calls to him.

"He's like his father," Lindsay teases, "He'll use whatever means gets him there the fastest."

"I can do slow," Bobby assures her, pulling her close, he whispers into her ear, "Tonight, I'll show you exactly how slow I can go."

"Mmmm," Lindsay hums appreciatively, "Just don't go too slow, or you may have to wake me, when you finally arrive at the good part."

"Oh you'll be awake, don't worry about that," Bobby promises.

Lindsay's leaning in to accept his kiss when a loud cry from their son interrupts them. Bobby and Lindsay look across and see him again at the table, pointing to the unreachable ball, this time calling, "Mom, mom, mom."

Bobby laughs at this new tactic and calls out, "What's wrong with the ball you already have?"

As she begins to rise, Lindsay quips, "He's stubborn, just like you," ending with a squeal as she's pulled backwards until she's lying on the couch and pounced on by Bobby.

"And we know where he got his squeal from," Bobby retorts as his mouth descends on hers.

Lindsay doesn't dispute his claim, not when it would require her to end a kiss she's thoroughly enjoying. Bobby's body feels wonderful above hers and her arms wrap around his back, drawing him even closer. Her intent to end Bobby's torment of their child was forgotten the moment Bobby's attentions turned towards her. Nothing but how good this feels enters her mind, until she's met with a searing pain on the side of her head.

"Ow ow ow ow ow! He's got my hair," she cries out.

"Hey, hey, let go, don't play with hair," Bobby laughs, sprawling over her and reaching down, trying to separate the baby's fist from Lindsay's hair. Unfortunately, the baby doesn't want to let go, not when this action got him such a fun reaction. "C'mon now, that's enough," Bobby says sterner. When this works, he reaches down and scoops the baby off of the floor, seating him on Lindsay's abdomen, Bobby says, "No being mean to Mommy, that's my job."

"Don't tell him that," Lindsay scolds.

"Like he knows what I'm saying."

"Of course you know," Lindsay says stroking the baby's cheek, "Don't you? Silly Daddy."

"Oh and that's all right to say?"

"Sure, because it's true."

Bobby looks at the baby's slobbering gap-toothed grin and says, "Kisses for Mommy."

Knowing that instruction, the baby turns to Lindsay and plants his open mouth on her cheek. Bobby laughs as Lindsay becomes covered in drool. He encourages the baby to continue kissing her by also nuzzling against Lindsay. When Bobby's kisses turn to raspberries, that the baby tries to copy, Lindsay has had enough. Pushing up, she sits, then stands, placing the baby on the ground, she says, "Let's show Daddy how well you walk before you drown me," and leads him to his toy box.

Slowly releasing her hand, she allows him to take the final few steps unaided. Once the baby has reached his destination, Lindsay turns back to look at Bobby proudly. Bobby throws her towel over to her, Lindsay catches it, with a laugh, and begins to dry her face and neck. Her attention is quickly turned to the flash of color at ground level, that signals her little terror is off seeking mischief again.

"Dadadadada," he calls as he hurries back to the couch and the biggest toy he knows.

Lindsay smiles at her boys as Bobby lifts him high in the air, eliciting another loud squeal. The difference in the child when his daddy is home is remarkable. When it's just her, he's quite happy to play in relative quiet, singing and humming to himself in his precious baby way, calling out to her every now and then with a long stream of baby talk, before returning to his latest conquest. When Daddy's home though, the decibel levels rise to almost intolerable, every sound he emits is loud, as Bobby works him into a screaming frenzy. Nothing is more tiring, for both Lindsay and the baby, than a day of daddy play, but nothing makes her happier than seeing the two of them interact with such love and adoration.

As much as she'd love to spend the rest of the morning watching them play, Lindsay knows they have a big day ahead of them and she needs to tear herself away. "I'd better finish getting ready," she sighs.

Bobby looks up and nods, then waving the baby's hand says, "Bye bye," eliciting a big giggle from their son.

Lindsay walks over and kisses both of her boys' grinning faces, instructs them to, "Play nice until I get back. No more teasing."

"Yes Mom," Bobby replies as he lowers the baby to the floor and retrieves the much desired ball for him.

Lindsay laughs at the squeals of delight she hears as she walks down the hall, knowing that this is going to be a long, long day if they keep this pace up.

When she returns to the lounge, she's pleased to see only a quarter of the toy box has been emptied onto the floor. It's a definite improvement on Bobby's usual tip-it-all-out-and-hope-for-the-best approach to playing. Even with the number of toys already in play, Little Bobby is still more interested in his dad and his fist than anything else. Lindsay smiles at the picture they make, with Bobby laying on the floor, his head on a cushion as he watches TV while the baby sits atop of him resting against Bobby's raised legs. He's squealing with delight every time Bobby threatens to nibble on his toes, and his arms flail wildly to knock away Bobby's threatening tickle-fingers.

"At least there shouldn't be any trouble getting him to have a sleep this morning," Lindsay says, noting his fighting-not-to-droop eyes.

"I might need one too," Bobby says, tilting his head back so he can see her.

Lindsay smiles at him, then angling her head towards the kitchen, says, "I'd better get started."

"Need me to do anything?" he asks.

"Just what you're doing now," Lindsay says, before leaving the room.

Bobby smiles and looks down at the little boy who's been patiently waiting for attention. It isn't very often he gets to just play and he's relishing this chance. Emitting a ferocious growl, Bobby again lifts baby toes towards his mouth and says, "I want toes for dinner."


*~*~*~*~*

Having started their dinner cooking, Lindsay returns to the lounge for a quick break. The noises she's heard have inspired her to keep going, as she smiles to herself imagining their antics, but they've made her covetous of some time with her family too. As she steps into the lounge, little Bobby screams with delight and comes running towards her as fast as his chubby legs can manage. After five steps are taken, his lack of co-ordination begins to get the better of him, threatening to topple him head over heals.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa..." Bobby and Lindsay coo as they watch his arms windmill in an attempt to right himself. Distracting him, by making it a game, takes the momentary fear of falling away from the child. He takes three more unsteady steps and a big stumble, then pauses, rocks awkwardly until standing still, before, with a laugh, he sets off towards Lindsay again.

"Good boy!" Lindsay cheers as she kneels on the floor and gives him a big hug to reward his bravery.

Moving until she's sitting, she picks up a book that's beside her, sets him on her lap, and begins to read to him. On each page she points to the pictures, drawing his attention to them, "Can you see the puppy, where's the red ball, look at the birds flying up, up in the sky."

Bobby watching on, realises this is a book they must read often, as the baby mimics her hand gestures and, in his own way, repeats keywords.

"Hey, he just said bird," Bobby says, having finally recognized a word.

"Yeah, he's pretty good at that one," Lindsay says, with an equally proud smile. "He's starting to pick up more words now, sometimes I think it's just me wanting to hear them, but he does say that one well. He seems to like birds. They even catch his eye on the street."

"Must be genetic, I do that with birds too," Bobby says with a wry grin. When Lindsay gives him a warning look he adds, "The feathered ones, I'm talking about the feathered ones."

"You'd better be," she says, staring intently at him.

The baby shows his displeasure at his mother's distraction by placing his soggy fingers against her face and turning her head back to him.

"Oh I'm sorry," she says, before kissing his cheek, then returning to reading the book. When she finishes she places it in his hands and standing him up, says, "Take it to Daddy, let him read to you now."

He looks at Bobby, then Lindsay, then the book and hands it back to Lindsay.

"No, no, no, take it to Daddy," she croons, turning him to face Bobby.

"C'mon, come here," Bobby calls.

With his book in his outstretched hand, little Bobby walks, slowly and uncertainly, over to his dad.

Bobby seats him on his knee, opens the book, then looks up at Lindsay, "Hey you weren't reading the words."

Lindsay laughs, "That stories too long for him yet; it's beyond his concentration level. He'd never get past the first page if you read all the words."

"Now you tell me," Bobby laughs.

"What?"

"Every time I've tried reading to him, we never get far before he's squirming to get away. I just thought he liked your reading better."

"No, he's just too little to merely listen, he needs involvement or he gets distracted, that's why he doesn't watch TV yet except for the commercials, they're short and loud and grab his attention, anything longer though and he sets off to find a new game."

"And here I was thinking he didn't like my taste in TV."

"Nobody likes your taste in TV, Bobby," Lindsay teases and laughs at his wounded grin. When Bobby looks down at the book in confusion she prompts, "Just point to the pictures and tell him what you see." Bobby looks at her sceptically, so, rising, she says, "Go on you can do it," before leaving the room, to give him one less member of the audience to worry about.

Once out of sight, Lindsay pauses close enough to listen to Bobby make a start. He talks to the baby all the time and Lindsay knows that once Bobby realises the book is merely a focal point to their conversation, he'll do fine.

When Lindsay again returns to the room, she sees Bobby on the couch and the baby chasing a ball around the room.

"How'd the book go?" she asks.

"He likes your version better," Bobby pouts.

Sitting beside him, she rubs his arm and says, "I suppose he told you that?"

"Not in so many words," Bobby laughs, "But, I'm pretty sure that's what he was saying when he hit me in the nose with it." He turns his head and shows her the indent from the corner of the book.

"Poor Bobby," she whispers, kissing it better.

When the baby notices his mother has returned, he starts calling for her. With a final parting kiss to Bobby she slides down onto the floor and begins rolling the ball back and forth with him. After ten minutes of playing various games she hands him a truck and says, "Take it to Daddy."

When he arrives, Bobby notices the stench and laughs, "Nice, Lindsay. What did I do to deserve this?"

"It's Father's day, so think of it as our gift to you."

"Ah, diaper duty, for when you want to show how much you care."

"Something like that," Lindsay laughs, "Besides I need to check on dinner."

When Bobby returns with the freshly diapered baby, Lindsay hands him a bottle to give the baby to help coax him into his morning sleep. "Try not to get him worked up again, Bobby," Lindsay requests, "just sit still and cuddle him."

"Yes boss," Bobby teases, making Lindsay smile.

She begins picking up the scattered toys while Bobby feeds the baby and listens to his voice as he softly talks to their son. Looking across at them, she sees the baby's eyes drawn to his father's with awe and she smiles, knowing just how relaxing that tone can be as she has fallen asleep to it many a night. She knows her son can be mesmerized by his father just as easily as she can be and loves watching Bobby be so at ease with his role as a dad. She wishes only that he could manage to spend more time at home in these precious formative years. Their days of just relaxing together as a family are few and far between. The fact that Bobby's missing out on a lot is evident in his amazement at the changes in his son whenever he gets to spend quality time with him. She hates the regret she sees behind the pride in his eyes.

When Lindsay has all the toys put away, she suggests Bobby put the baby to bed. With the bottle, now, only half full, he can manage the weight by himself and Lindsay wants to encourage the habit of him falling asleep in his bed on his own. She smiles at the do-I-have-to look on Bobby's face and gives him a sympathetic but insistent one in return. The baby's sleeping routine is not one she's willing to alter because it always results in a period of sleepless nights when they do. Just like his father, if he gets away with something once, he'll try it again and again. Also, just like his father, he has eyes that look at her so pleadingly it's almost impossible to refuse but on some things she just has to make a stand.

"Your Mommy's bossy," Bobby tells the baby as he stands to follow Lindsay's orders, "You need to back me up, buddy, two against one, we can out vote her and get to play all day."

Little Bobby softly slaps his hand against his dads face and Lindsay laughs, "See, that's what you get for that type of mutinous talk, Bobby." Kissing her sons cheek, she adds, "Sleep well sweetheart," and gives Bobby's butt a playful slap of her own as he passes her by.

"You'll get yours," he growls softly over his shoulder at her.

"That's what I'm hoping for," she retorts.

Bobby smiles and softly sings, "Tonight, tonight, Mommy's gonna get it tonight," as he walks away. Listening to him, Lindsay can't help smiling, a happy Bobby makes for a happy household, when he laughs it's infectious and there's nothing she can do to stop herself laughing too. With the stress they've been under lately, she hasn't seen Bobby this playful in a long time, she's missed it, as she's sure he has too.

*~*~*~*~*

With the baby now sleeping, Bobby and Lindsay have managed to get all the days preparations done and are enjoying a brief respite in which they can just sit, relax and enjoy one another's company. Reaching for the card he was given this morning, Bobby looks at the finger-painting, laughs and says, "Do I want to know what this is a picture of?"

"You'd have to ask your son, he's the artist."

"Yes, well he obviously inherited his talent from me."

Lindsay laughs and points to a blob near the bottom, "See that bit, it's a kiss, you can just see his top lip if you look carefully."

"You let him kiss the paint?" Bobby asks, surprised.

"Well, no, I wouldn't say I let him. It's non toxic, but him eating it was not my plan. The phone rang, I reached to get it and he dove right in."

"He's fast isn't he," Bobby says, "I was looking for the remote; I thought he was just there and I heard this cra.... never mind."

"What, never mind? What happened?"

"Nothing really, he'd gotten into the kitchen cupboard and was trying to drag out the big pot, because obviously the little one didn't make enough of a noise when it fell."

"I let him bash them with a wooden spoon sometimes when I'm working in there."

"You never let me do that," Bobby pouts.

Lindsay smiles indulgently at him, "He does love playing with the pots and pans."

"Maybe we've finally got someone in the family who likes to cook."

"Take-out suppliers all over Boston will go bust."

Bobby looks at her and smiles, "Those were the days, huh," he says.

"Yeah," Lindsay sighs, wistfully.

"Do you ever miss it?"

"Do I miss sitting in your office, discussing cases over Chinese food into the wee hours of the morning? Surprisingly, yes I do," she laughs, "But, would I give up what we have now, to go back for even a second? No way."

Bobby smiles at her and nods, "Yeah, this is pretty great isn't it."

Lindsay hums her agreement as she snuggles in against Bobby. His arms wrap around her and he drops a kiss onto her head. As much as he loved the Father's day gifts he was given this morning, this is the true gift he'll treasure; sitting with the woman he loves, sharing their son, their life, their love. Although it doesn't have to be a special day for them to do this, every day they do is special to him. Bobby's in the middle of a further tale of the morning's eventful activities, when a knock on the door interrupts him.

"I wonder who that is?" he says.

"Considering it's Father's day, and we've invited them to dinner, I'd guess either your dad or mine."

"Yeah, but it's still early."

Laughing, as she rises from the couch, Lindsay says, "Which suggests it's yours." Her father's terminal inability to judge time is a long standing family joke. He is always running late

"Do you think your dad will make it before dinner this time?"

"Should do, I told him to be here by eleven so there's a good chance he'll make it by one."

As had been expected, it was Stephen Donnell knocking at the door.

"Where's my boy?" he asks after giving Lindsay's cheek a kiss.

"He's down for his morning nap."

"Maybe he meant me," Bobby says, coming up beside her to greet his dad.

"Yeah, that's right son, of course I did" Stephen laughs, giving Lindsay a wink.

"Oh, here he is then," Lindsay says and moves out of the way so Bobby can shake his father's hand.

With their greetings out of the way, they move to sit on the couch. As they talk, Lindsay notices Stephen is a little jittery. His head is constantly turning towards the hall, desperate to hear the sound of his grandson awake.

"Go on, go have a look, just don't wake him," she tells him, knowing that when in the same building, it's impossible to keep the two of them apart.

When Bobby rises to accompany his dad, she says, "Not you!"

"Oh but..."

"Him I trust, you still require training," she teases.

Stephen gives his son a sympathetic smile then makes his escape. Bobby follows Lindsay into the kitchen, his hands grasping her hips as his chin rests on her shoulder and he mumbles, "You're supposed to be nice to me today."

"Why?" she grins turning around, "You're not my dad."

He smiles at her and leans in for a long kiss that's followed by many more, their embrace is only broken when they hear Stephen approaching.

"I see he's still got my hair color," Stephen says as he enters the room.

Lindsay laughs, "Yeah, no sign of it darkening yet."

Accepting the drink Bobby passes to him, Stephen follows Bobby's lead and sits at the table. Pointing to Bobby he says, "This one was fair until after he'd started school, you can see it get darker in each photo in his school album."

"I don't think I've seen that album," Lindsay says as she sits down. "You'll have to show it to me one day."

Bobby groans at the thought of it, he'd rather Lindsay never get the chance to see him in his geeky teenage years. Lindsay laughs at his reaction, reaching her hand out to cover his, she unconvincingly assures him, "I promise I won't laugh."

"Yeah you will," Stephen adds, "There's some real beauties in there."

"Thanks a lot Dad," Bobby laughs.

"Of course, by the time he started high school his hair was dark and had turned into that unruly mop he's got now." Stephen ruffles Bobby's hair as he says this.

"Jealous Dad?" Bobby quips, pulling away.

"I spend all day lugging a mop around, I'd hardly want one on my head too," he retorts.

Lindsay smiles and shakes her head as she listens to the banter being exchanged by the two of them. Bobby's relationship with his father, although always loving, has never been ideal. Lindsay's been delighted to watch it develop over the past two years, she's seen their bond grow stronger and knows that Bobby's a lot happier for it. She wonders whether his own fatherhood has helped him understand better and care deeper for this man he spent so many years unable to really talk to.


*~*~*~*~*

When another knock at the door is heard, Bobby and Lindsay both look to their watches, then up at one another in surprise. Lindsay grins as she rises from the table and walks to the front door.

"Dad, you're early!" she says as she opens the door and let's her father in.

"I was hungry and you promised me food," he replies giving her a hug, "Now where's my boy."

Lindsay looks up as Bobby and Stephen enter the room, smiles at Bobby then says, "He's asleep." She looks back at Bobby, with another grin, at her dad's crestfallen face. "C'mon," she says guiding her father over to the others. "Bobby will take you to go see him," she smiles at the pleased expressions on both their faces. "Don't wake him," she warns Bobby.

"I won't," he promises, leading Lindsay's dad down the hall.

As he approaches the nursery, Bobby begins to feel nervous about his companion. He can't help it; he likes the guy, they get along great, but whenever it's just the two of them, he feels himself reverting to an errant teenage boy embarrassed about the impure thoughts he has about the man's daughter. It's only become worse now that he too is a father. He knows when the time comes that they have a daughter, no man will ever be good enough for her and he'll chase every boy away that he can. Although he's never been given the impression Mr Dole thinks it, he can't help wondering whether the older man thinks Bobby is good enough for Lindsay. Whenever they're together, Bobby finds himself wanting to assure him his intentions are completely honourable. The fact he's already married her doesn't seem to enter Bobby's guilty conscience during these sweaty palms moments. Lindsay laughed when he told her how gawky being alone with her father made him feel. He wonders if this was a ploy by her to get the two of them alone when there's something other than his lust on Bobby's mind. He grins, thinking, if that was her plan, it's doomed to fail, because he can hear her laughter and that never fails to place prurient thoughts in his mind. Trying to tamper them, he picks a safe topic, and asks what Mr Dole thinks of the Red Sox' chances this year.

When they reach the doorway, he sees his son is awake and having an in-depth conversation with his toes.

"Oh, no, Lindsay's never going to believe this," Bobby groans.

Hearing his father enter, the baby rolls over and stands up. Leaning against the side of the cot he reaches his hands up high as he calls, "Da da da."

"C'mon Buddy," Bobby says picking him up, "Let's get you changed."

He lays him on the change table and laughs when he hears Mr Dole say, "You change diapers, Bobby? I never would have believed it."

"Me either," Bobby admits, "But, believe it or not, at this I'm an expert."

Handing his son a toy to try and keep him occupied, in the hopes he won't attempt to get away, Bobby proceeds to show off his diaper changing abilities as he converses with Lindsay's father. As he finishes redressing his son, Bobby thanks God for the fact that this was one of the very few times when the baby was 100% co-operative and didn't ruin the good impression he was trying to make. He picks the baby up and asks Lindsay's dad, "Want to take him?"

When his offer is met with much approval, he passes him over saying, "Go to grandpa."

Little Bobby frowns at this strange face and pats his hands over the new features as he stares at his grandfather.

"It's Grandpa, you remember Grandpa," Bobby says soothingly.

Little Bobby looks at him and says, "Paaa pa."

"That's right," Bobby says smiling, "Grandpa."

"Paaa pa," the baby says again, always pleased to repeat something that meets with approval, "Paaa pa, paaa pa."

Bobby looks at the amazement on Mr Dole's face and smiles, knowing that in the three months since he last saw him, the baby has changed a lot.

"He's gotten so big," Mr Dole says, voicing Bobby's exact thought.

"Yeah and loud," Bobby adds, walking to the door.

As they walk down the hall, Mr Dole asks, "So Bobby, am I carrying him because your afraid of my daughter?"

"That obvious huh?" Bobby laughs, all the while wondering if he should let the others enter the room first.

Lindsay looks up as they arrive, and Bobby's thankful to see amusement on her face. "I should have guessed what was happening when you took so long," she says, rising to give her son a kiss.

"I tried to tell him not to, but Bobby wouldn't stop poking him until he woke up," her father tells her.

Bobby spins around to defend himself, until he sees the two of them looking at him in amusement. Tag team Doles, can he survive the day? He walks over to sit on the couch with his dad, only to be shooed away in favour of Mr Dole and the baby. Instead he moves over and perches on the arm of the chair Lindsay is sitting on. Together, they watch as the grandfathers crow over the antics of their grandson, who is lapping up all the attention.

"We may as well not be here," Bobby whispers in Lindsay's ear.

"I know," she giggles as she leans into him.

Hearing his mother's laugh, the baby looks over, squirming away from his grandfathers, he slides gingerly off the couch and totters over to Bobby and Lindsay.

"Oh my, he's walking now too," Mr Dole says, "There's no stopping him now."

"Don't I know it," Lindsay moans, her face showing her true delight as she scoops him up in her arms and gives him a big cuddle.

Placing him back on the ground, she says, "Go get a ball for Grandpa?"

"Paaa pa," he calls as he looks around for a ball.

"Oh wow," Lindsay says looking at Bobby.

"Yeah I taught him that one," he says proudly.

Lindsay squeezes Bobby's hand, then says, "The balls in the box," to her son, who drops to his hands and knees and crawls as fast as he can over to his toy box. Once there, he delves in and individually removes almost every item but a ball, all the while singing and laughing to himself. The four adults in the room watch, enchanted, as he plays almost oblivious to them.

The grandfather's rave at how much the baby's grown since they last saw him. Seeing him everyday, the changes aren't as noticeable to Bobby and Lindsay, as it's a steady progression, but for these men, who see him intermittently, his changes are like leaps and bounds.

Having brought a number of toys over closer to the couch, little Bobby reaches out and offers some to his grandfathers, "ta ta!"

Stephen takes some blocks from him, but is met with a frown when he sits back against the couch to examine them. Standing, Little Bobby says, "Ta!" as he reaches out for the blocks. Taking them back, he then sits, before offering them to Stephen again.

"He wants you to get on the floor and play with him," Lindsay says.

Laughing, Stephen shakes his head at the boy, "Sorry, if I get down there, I'll never get up again."

Frowning at being refused, the baby looks to his other grandfather, uncertainly.

"Oh no, the pressure's on," Mr Dole says and rises to join the baby on the floor. Looking at Bobby he says, "Hope you've been working out, I may need help myself."

"Lindsay does the heavy lifting in this house," Bobby says.

Lindsay gives him a curious look, wondering what that was supposed to mean, Bobby shrugs, having no idea himself, it had made more sense in his head than it had once he'd said it. Lindsay mouths 'behave' at him, and with a grin, Bobby stands and moves to also join his son on the floor.

Watching the three play, Lindsay isn't sure who's having more fun, the baby or the supposed grown ups.

After a long string of baby babble, Lindsay's dad looks up and says, "Give him a few months and he'll be so full of talk, he'll be just like you were." Turning to Bobby he says, "I called her my little wind up doll. From the time she was two, she'd wake up in the morning mid-conversation, talk all day long, then about an hour after supper, the house would go quiet and we'd know she'd fallen asleep again."

"Some things never change," Bobby teases looking up at her with a grin.

"Not this one," Stephen says, "He was always the silent type."

"No, with Lindsay, if things were quiet, we knew it was time to worry, because she was up to some mischief. You see when she was concentrating her tongue would stick out the side of her mouth and she couldn't talk like that."

Bobby laughs and, groaning, Lindsay says, "Can we leave out the embarrassing stories this time dad?"

"Why, I love them," Bobby protests.

"Bobby!" she says, not wanting her father encouraged.

"That's okay, Lindsay, come sit here and I'll tell you some about him," Stephen says.

Lindsay grins triumphantly at Bobby as she rises and joins Stephen on the couch. Bobby quickly scans his memory in fear of just how bad a plan this could be.

"You asked for it," Mr Dole teases.

"I guess I did," Bobby replies with a grin. He watches her talk to his dad, enjoying the sparkle in her eyes as she listens to his fond memories.


*~*~*~*~*

Lindsay excuses herself to check on their dinner, her exit going virtually unnoticed as the boys are distracted with their toys. She's turning the oven off when she feels a tug on her leg. Looking down she sees her son pulling himself into a standing position.

"Hey you," she says helping him up, "What are you doing in here?"

When he tries to reach for some of the food on the table, Lindsay says, "No, no, no, dinners coming soon."

Scooping him up, she takes him into the dining room and secures him into his chair. Handing him a spoon, to use as a drumstick against his table top, she returns to the kitchen to begin bringing in the food. Talking to him as she sets the table, she keeps him thoroughly entertained. It's the sounds she hears coming from the lounge that amuse her though. When the table is ready, she walks to the doorway and stands there a moment watching the men as they play.

Bobby and her father are constructing a tower of blocks, receiving advice from Stephen on architectural sturdiness and color scheme. Intent on their tower, not one seems to have noticed the baby is missing.

"Where's Little Bobby?" Lindsay asks.

In unison they all spin around and search the floor for the youngest member of their work crew.

"He was just here a second ago," Bobby says standing for a clearer view of the room.

"He's sitting at the table ready for dinner, so why don't you boys go join him," Lindsay teases.

Sheepishly they all rise and walk to the dining room. Bobby and her father move to take the chairs either side of the high chair.

"He needs to be fed," Lindsay whispers to Bobby, expecting him to move to another chair.

"I'll do it," he says and looks at her as if questioning if that's okay.

Lindsay smiles at him as she takes the chair beside him, she's quite happy to have a meal that she can sit and simply enjoy for a change. Passing the baby's meal to Bobby, she then turns her attention to making sure the others are all set. Dishing up a plate for Bobby too, she sits back and savours a nice meal with her family.



*~*~*~*~*


"Want some apple, sweetie?" Lindsay says and little Bobby smiles as he dances excitedly in his chair. Slapping the tray top of his high chair, he says, "No, no, no, no, no."

Lindsay cuts an apple into portions and hands one to Bobby to pass on to the baby. When it reaches him, it's shoved almost completely into his mouth. "Hey slow down," Bobby encourages and with a grin the baby pulls it out again and starts to suck and chew on just the end.

"So much for no," Mr Dole says.

Smiling Lindsay tells him, "That was actually yes. If he means no, he says one loud no, but for yes, it's a string of soft babbled no's."

"Yeah, look," Bobby says, and reaching over to take the apple from the baby, asks, "For Daddy?"

The forthright reply of, "NO!" leaves no one in doubt of the little boy's wishes.

"Bobby, don't tease him," Lindsay whispers, not wanting an upset child while they're trying to eat dinner.

Bobby leans towards her and whispers, "Best behaviour," into her ear.

"I'd settle for good," she quips and receives a wandering hand under the table in reply. With a quick warning kick against Bobby's ankle, Lindsay begins a conversation with Stephen, hoping the distraction will help prevent a blush rising over her face. Bobby, knowing exactly how far he can push before landing himself in the doghouse, backs away, but from the gleam in Lindsay's eye, he also knows that tonight she'll make him pay and he can't wait.

After a string of baby talk is directed at him, Lindsay's dad leans towards the high chair and says, "Just wait until you discover consonants my boy, there'll be no stopping you then."

Thriving under the attention, little Bobby places his hand over the older man's and again lets lose a nonsensical dissertation. Bobby and Lindsay, looking on, snicker at the seriousness on the two faces involved in the conversation. They watch as her father stares deeply at the baby then nods thoughtfully and says, "You're right, my boy, you're absolutely right."

"You understood that, Dad?" Lindsay laughs.

"Sure," he father replies, "He just reminded me I've enjoyed a sumptuous meal and have been remiss in not yet thanking the cook."

"Taaaaaaaaaa," little Bobby calls out.

"Yes, yes, I'm saying that now," his Grandpa Dole tells him before turning to Lindsay and saying, "Dinner was delicious, thank you."

"Taaaa," little Bobby says again, "ta ta ta!" He begins tapping his soggy fistful of food onto his grandpa's hand, "Ta! Ta!"

Realising the child's intent his grandfather says, "No, that's okay, you keep it."

"Ta ta!" little Bobby says more insistently.

"No, no, it's yours."

"Ta! TA!"

"Ta for Daddy," Lindsay quickly says.

The baby turns to his father with his hand outstretched, "Da da ta!"

"I don't want it," Bobby mumbles to Lindsay.

"Yes you do," she insists, "take it from him."

Bobby winces as the soggy drool infested apple is dropped into his hand and says, "Thanks buddy." As he places it on his plate, he turns to Lindsay and says, "And tell me, why did I want that?"

"Because if someone didn't take it from him soon, it would have ended up on the floor and it's a hell of a lot easier to clean it off of a plate."

Bobby winks his approval and grabbing a napkin, cleans both his and his son's hands. When Lindsay hands him a fresh piece of apple to pass on, he realises it may not have been a smart move to place himself next to the baby as he's surprised at how much work it actually is. He knew that Lindsay would always be fiddling with something around the baby to keep him amused while they ate, he'd never realised it was such a sticky experience though. The joys of fatherhood, he thinks, as his son smiles excitedly at the fresh piece of fruit coming his way.


*~*~*~*~*

Having eaten their fill, the adults sit around the table drinking cups of coffee and chatting. Little Bobby, who's wearing almost as much food as he's eaten, has lost interest in the distraction of fruit and become restless with having been sedentary for so long. As he becomes increasingly fussy, Lindsay rises, and lifting him out of the chair, takes him away to be cleaned up.

When she returns, the table's been cleared and the men are again in the lounge. Before placing the baby on the floor, she teases, "If anyone's going to be devastated when this tower is destroyed, they'd better put it out of reach now."

The men exchange grins and assure her they'll survive the destruction of their elaborate creation. Lindsay places little Bobby on the floor and he immediately crawls over to it, pulls a piece from the bottom subsequently knocking it all down. He squeals with delight at the noise and tries to recreate it by picking up more pieces. When that fails to get the same reaction, he resorts to bashing them together, cheering at himself with each loud crash.

Lindsay sits on the couch next to Bobby, who puts his arm around her shoulder and leans against her side. She smiles at him and listens contentedly to the eager conversation going on in the room, pleased to have the men in her life, together, safe and happy.

The remainder of the afternoon quickly passes by and the enthusiasm of little Bobby soon wanes. Too much excitement takes its toll and he makes his way into his mother's lap for comforting cuddles. Singing to himself, he plays with the pendant on her necklace as he snuggles in closer and closer.

"Want me to put him in bed?" Bobby asks.

"I just want to cuddle him for a little bit longer," Lindsay replies.

Bobby's arm wraps around them both, and he rubs the little boys back as he holds his family close. Soon though, Lindsay has to relent and send her boy to bed. Standing, she leans him in to give kisses goodbye to everyone before taking him from the room. He's so tired he's asleep almost before she's laid him in the cot. Looking at his exhausted face, she's worried that his afternoon nap may be so long they'll have trouble getting him into bed tonight. She sighs thinking that they'll cross that bridge when they come to it and returns to the lounge.

Although the boy is no longer in sight, he's still the main focus of the conversation, until his two proud grandfathers decide to also call it a day. Having seen them off, Bobby and Lindsay are barely finished tidying up the days activities, when they hear the calls of their rejuvenated son. Pleased the baby hasn't overslept, Lindsay smiles as she looks at Bobby. She sees the question, 'You or me?' in his eyes and shrugs.

Bobby smiles, and taking her hand, says, "C'mon,." Their arms encircle one another as they walk down the hall towards the nursery. Both are eager for a relaxing evening together with their son.


*~*~*~*~*

As Bobby steps out of the bathroom, Lindsay looks up from her perch on the edge of the bed, she smiles as she asks, "Did you have a good day?"

"The best," he replies and brushes a kiss against her lips before walking to his side of the bed and climbing in. When he's settled he laughs and says, "You're dad was funny today."

"Yeah he was in a playful mood wasn't he?" Lindsay replies; she'd loved watching them get along so well.

"I think he was exhausted by the time he left though."

"Yeah."

"Our dad's got along well."

"Well, they have an adorable grandson in common."

"Yeah, that's true," Bobby laughs.

Lindsay turns and looks over her shoulder at Bobby.

"What?" he asks.

"When you and Dad came back after picking up Bobby, you were kinda quiet ... Did he say something to you?"

"Yeah, actually he did." Bobby nods and Lindsay sees him become thoughtful again.

Climbing onto the bed, she crawls over until next to Bobby, rubbing his arms she asks, "What did he say?"

Bobby sighs and looks across at her, "Just that ... he uh, he'd worked so hard when you kids were little that he ... he missed a lot. He said he'd always had it in the back of his mind that one day he'd do the family thing, but then one day came and he realized he'd grown away from his family ... he said that he hoped I never lose sight of what I have because you can never go back and do it again right."

Bobby's expression shows regret and Lindsay sighs, "Bobby..."

"I know I'm missing a lot, today just reminded me of how much." He takes her hand as he says, "I don't want to keep missing out."

"I know, Bobby, we just need to keep making the most of the days we do have together until the time comes when we can have more."

"How long before that happens though?" Bobby's head shakes slowly in frustration, "He's growing up so fast, I do want to be involved, but with work the way it is now..."

"Bobby, we keep talking about hiring and never do a thing about it. It's crazy having lawyers the calibre of Bec and Jimmy still doing all our scud work. We need to hire an associate to take over that and then they can spend more time bringing in business too which will ease the strain on everyone else."

"I know." Bobby nods, they all know it's what's needed, actually doing it is the hard part.

"For two years we've been saying we have to hire on, when are we going to actually do it?"

"I was thinking when Bobby graduates from college he can join the firm, that might help," Bobby grins at the eye roll she gives him.

"Bobbeeeeee," she moans, "The scary thing is that's probably how long it will take to make this happen. Are we ever going to hire someone?"

"Hey don't look at me," Bobby says defensively

"Why not, you're senior partner, you...."

"Hey, I distinctly remember it was you and Ellenor put in charge of hiring, so don't go bringing your complaints to me. Besides, after my disastrous attempt at finding a baby-sitter do you really think I should be in charge of hiring?"

Lindsay grins, having heard the stories from Lucy, she concedes his point. Plus, now that the onus has been placed on her, she thinks it's a good time to change the subject. To be honest, Ellenor and Lindsay had lasted through one disastrous round of interviews before deciding the right person for the firm wasn't out there yet and tabling it for another day. That new day just never seemed to come around, once real life got in the way. Putting on a playful voice, Lindsay sidles up next to Bobby and says, "You aren't that bad at hiring, Bobby, after all it was you who hired me, remember?"

"True."

"And that was a very wise choice"

"It was?" Bobby asks, looking at her sceptically.

"It was the best decision you ever made, mister, and don't you ever forget it." Lindsay tells him, tugging on his collar, drawing him down with her.

"Like I could with you around to remind me," he replies before his lips meet hers.

She kisses him, then raises up again, "Although if we hire on, we may have to expand, do you think you and your buddies will be available to help with the building?"

"Hey, that was a spectacular tower we made," Bobby pouts.

"Yes Bobby, it was beautiful," Lindsay assures him as she lays beside him again.

"Why do I feel you don't take my skills seriously?" he asks.

"I take everything you say seriously," she promises.

"Really?"

"Ah ha," Lindsay's eyes are full of mischief and promise.

"So, uh ... do you recall a certain comment about slow?"

"Sure do and can I say, Bobby, if you were going any slower you'd be standing still."

Snuggling up closer, he says, "Want me to speed up a bit."

"Oh, yes, please," Lindsay replies, her words turning into a purr, when Bobby begins to fulfill the promise he'd made to her earlier.

As they join together in love, they celebrate the perfect end to a wonderful day.