Parental Advisory Rating: L, N, AC

Break out those V-Chips, everyone!

Credits:

Created, Produced, Directed and Written:

Fanatic and TNovan

I slip out of bed, giving her my pillow. She’s not happy about it but she takes it and goes back to sleep. Kam needs to be walked. While I’m out I’ll grab some breakfast and the Sunday papers. It’s going to be a relaxing Sunday at home.

I never thought I’d like the sound of that, but I do. I really do.

Jesus, Harper, you might be a grown up after all. Who knew that all you needed was the right girl? And, boy, did you ever hit pay dirt with Kels. Whatever you do, don’t fuck this up. This is the best thing you’ve ever had in your entire life.

"I love you," I whisper, kissing her cheek before I leave the room.

Kam meets me at the bedroom door with his collar and leash in his mouth. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he was getting ready to knock on the door if I hadn’t come out right now.

I laugh as I look at my buddy. "I’m sorry, boy. I overslept a bit." I slide his collar over his head. "Let’s go get Little Roo some bagels."

"None for the dog!" she calls from the bed. I look back to find her somewhat awake and smiling at me. "I mean it, Tabloid."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Like Kam or I care. "You want to go with us to make sure I don’t corrupt him?" That’s not gonna happen in my lifetime.

"No." She curls back under the blankets. "I trust you."

Damn. She had to go and say that, didn’t she? I look down at my buddy and shrug. "You heard her, you’re shit outta luck now. No bagels." I frown. "And I owe another buck to the jar." I say this loud enough for Kels to know I caught myself.

Kam almost looks annoyed. I think he had his heart set on a nice bagel with cream cheese and lox this morning.

"Come on. Maybe you can beg a bite from her when we get home."

* * *

By the time Tabloid and Kam get back I’ve managed to take a shower and pour a glass of tomato juice. I detest the stuff but the babies seem to love it because I’m drinking at least one glass a day. Why do you want things you hate when you’re pregnant? It’s a very cruel trick of nature.

I hear them come through the door and call Kam to me. He trots into the kitchen, planting himself at my feet.

"The least you could do is clean your nose. You have cream cheese on top of it," I tell him, patting my upper chest. He stands up on his hind legs, leaning against my shoulders. He’s still technically a puppy. I don’t know what we’re gonna do when he’s full-grown. He’ll knock me over like this. I wipe the cream cheese from his snout and let him lick it from my thumb. Tabloid enters and sets the bags on the counter.

"Tell me he mugged you for the bagel."

"He mugged me for the bagel," she repeats dutifully, unpacking the sacks.

"What am I gonna do with you two?"

"Well, you can give me a kiss." She leans over for it and I give it up freely. She may be spoiling our dog, but I can spoil her all I want. "Then you can scold your dog for being a shameless mooch."

"What?"

She sighs and leans against the counter, uncapping her coffee. "While I was in the bakery getting our breakfast, your dog was outside mooching bites from people as they left. If he were a street performer, he’d be rich. That’s how he got the cream cheese on his nose. I left it there so he’d get caught."

I cross my arms and stare at her. "You expect me to believe that?"

"I swear to you, it’s the truth."

I take the paper and my juice and head for the patio. "That’s pathetic, Tabloid. Try to come up with something better next week."

"I told you, you were gonna get me in trouble," I hear her grumble at him. "You little mooch, I’m gonna pay for this all day and I didn’t do anything wrong. You are so not going to the bakery next week."

* * *

We’re stretched out on the bed. I’m leaning up against the headboard working the Sunday crossword, and Kels is lying next to me, positioned so I can rub her lower back. "Ten letter word for intrepid?"

Kels looks up from the nanny applications in front of her, cocking her head slightly. "Courageous."

That’ll fit. "That’s scary, Kels. How do you do that?" I fill in the spaces.

"I did a lot of crosswords as a kid." She slides up next to me, rubbing her hand across my stomach. It’s another No Clothes Weekend in the Kingsley household. "You want to see truly scary, look at this."

I take the application and give it a quick glance. "No." I crumple it and shoot for the wastebasket. It falls through the small basketball hoop I’ve affixed there, landing on top of the others I’ve tossed earlier. "Two points."

She laughs at me and moves on to the next one. "This is going to be a nightmare. Some of these applications are unreal. Oh, you’ll love this one."

I take it and look at it. "She’s joking, right? She would really make a request like this on the application?"

"Oh, that’s tame. She only wanted her boyfriend to move in too. You should see some of the other requests."

I lay the crossword aside and hold up the application. "Darlin’, you see this one?"

"Un-huh."

"If, in your opinion, the applications in your hands are worse than this one, I don’t even want to look at them. Just throw them away."

"That’s not much of a baseline, Tabloid."

"Seems like the best one so far."

She thumbs through the applications, finally tossing all of them to the floor.

I raise a questioning brow.

"It occurs to me," Kels says with a purr, straddling my hips, "that there are other things I’d rather be doing."

"What’s a six letter word for orgasm?" I tease when she pushes back on my shoulders.

"Kelsey," she leers, digging her nails into my shoulder. "And you’ll yell it loud and clear in a little bit."

Oh, it’s gonna be my kinda day.

* * *

When the story meeting breaks up, Sam and I head to my office. He’s going to fill me in on the piece he’s doing which has been assigned to me. Apparently, Langston is still peeved at Kels. Once again, she’s been relegated to the soft pieces. She told me she was being good, but I can’t help but wonder what my darling spouse did to keep her at the top of his hit list this week. Generally, he’s moved on to his next target by now. I’ll have to make sure we have lunch together today and ask her.

Sam sits in the chair in front of my desk, flipping open his notebook. "Harper, we’re going to have to take this one with kid gloves at first. If these people get spooked, we’ll never get what we’re looking for."

"What exactly is it we’re going after, Sam?"

He shifts in his chair, obviously on edge over the subject. "If I’m right, it’s a serious case of systematic child abuse."

He’s got my attention now. Ever since finding out Kels was pregnant, it seems all I can see are kids – on the street, on television, in the grocery store. They’re everywhere. The thought that anyone would harm one … well, let’s just say, it set my blood boiling before and now it enrages me. I lean forward, resting my arms on my desk. "Tell me what you know."

"I know I pulled my son out of a daycare service after he had three ‘accidents’ in less than two months. Harper, my boy is deaf, not accident-prone."

Okay, this is personal. I don’t know how objective I could be in that type of situation. I will need to take a good long look at this story. A good producer watches her Talent’s back. "What do you think the problem is?"

"I think it’s a situation where people aren’t properly trained to deal with the children in their care. They get frustrated …" his voice trails off.

"And take it out on the kids?"

"Yeah." He nods, his eyes meeting mine. "I want to stop this before an innocent child is badly injured or dies."

That I can rally behind. "Let’s go get ‘em."

* * *

"I’ve done nothing, I swear to you."

Harper looks at me out of the corner of her eye. She takes the hot dog from the vendor after requesting he put a spoonful of very spicy relish on it. "Then why are you still being relegated to the soft stuff?"

She takes me by the arm, guiding me over to sit on a set of steps. Street noise aside, it’s kind of nice to be in the sunlight and fresh air, if you can call the air in New York fresh. "I have no idea." Once again I want something I would never in million years think of eating on my own. "Hey?"

She stops right before taking her first bite. "Yes?"

"You gonna eat that?" I can’t believe I’m saying this.

"That was the plan, yes."

I crane forward a bit and give her a very sweet smile. "Looks pretty good."

"Me or the sandwich?" she asks in a very confused voice.

"Trick questions are not nice, Tabloid."

"It wasn’t a trick question. I’ve never seen you eye a hot dog like that before."

"Blame your children. So are you giving that one up, or do I have to fend for myself over there at the cart?"

She looks back and forth between me and the hot dog. "Are you going to eat it? Or smear it on your stomach?"

I sigh. "I had planned on eating it, but if you’re gonna make it difficult, I’ll take my pregnant self over there and fight the crowd for my own."

"Hold on there, Sparky." She lays her hand on my arm, offering me the sandwich. "Here, take it, eat it, enjoy it. I’ll take my supportive partner ass over there and get myself a dog. And you a second one."

"Thanks," I take the sandwich, catching her smirking at me. "But save your money on a second one for me. It’s going in the jar."

"Isn’t it great how I’m single-handedly saving for our children’s future?" She leans in and gives me a quick kiss on the cheek before jogging over to the cart for another sandwich.

When she returns, she hands me a bottle of water which I desperately need. That relish was a lot hotter than I thought. "Thanks," I manage to choke out while uncapping the water and taking a long drink. "I hope they enjoyed that. It was totally disgusting. By the way, are you going to be getting out of here on time tonight?"

"Should be. Why?"

"Want to interview a nanny?"

"Sure, we can do that. And New York hot dogs are a work of art. How can you not love them?"

"Right, that’s what they said about that toilet seat exhibit at the MOMA, too, Tabloid. Maybe it has something to do with the shape," I offer this with a grin as I wipe my hands with a napkin.

I immediately find myself giving her a solid thump on the back to keep her from choking. When she can breathe again, she eyes the hot dog with disdain. "Now I’m gonna need therapy before I can eat one of these again. I mean, the Freudian implications in what you just said are staggering." She begins to whine. "Kels, how could you do that to me? That was mean." I watch as she tosses the rest of the sandwich away. "Come on." She takes me by the arm. "We’ll get some fries from the other cart."

Wonder what I’d have to compare them to in order to get her to give those up as well.

* * *

Our first applicant seems to have real potential, at least according to her application. So far, the only thing I’ve noticed is that her blouse is open a little too far; but hey, I’m willing to give her a dress code when she’s around my children and Harper.

Harper has the clipboard with the application and is studying it intently. She has taken this entire nanny hunt as seriously as Woodward and Bernstein took the Watergate break-in. I am confident that our children will have the best nanny ever given her standards.

I keep my eyes on the woman across from me, who can’t seem to take her eyes off my wife. I may have misjudged this one. She may not be right for us.

"Tell me about a time," Harper asks, "you were caring for two young children and there was a crisis. What was the crisis and how did you handle it?"

Harper seems oblivious to the fact she’s being stared at. This is good, very good. However, I am not amused by the way the slu…applicant leans in and licks her lips before giving the answer. She is flirting with my Harper.

Hello! Pregnant wife in the room. Remember me?

I look over to Harper who is taking copious notes of the answer being given. Forget it, Tabloid; she could have saved a busload of nuns and orphans from going over a cliff, but she’s not working for us.

"How would you feel about travel on the job?" Harper asks another of the questions we came up with. From time to time, it might be a necessary evil, but not with this chick.

She gives a rather coy smile to my partner. "I’d be willing to go anywhere you needed."

How about off a balcony sixteen floors up?

"Do you have any questions for us?" Harper still seems unaware. Either she’s totally engrossed in the interview or is doing her best to ignore what is going on.

"Would I have any," she pauses briefly, "any nighttime duties?"

Not here. No way. No how. That’s it. That’s the final big old straw that just killed this camel. I clear my throat to get Harper’s attention. I shake my head slightly and within a matter of moments this little hussy is gone from my reality. Harper is very kind and lets her leave by the front door. I am ready to see if she could fly. Hell, other nannies could do it. I’d be willing to give her an umbrella if it would help.

"What was wrong with her?" Harper asks, coming back into the living room.

"She was flirting with you."

"She was?" Clear blue eyes meet mine.

"Oh please. Yes, she was. You didn’t notice?"

"Not really. She seemed a bit friendly, though."

"A bit! Tabloid, if I hadn’t been here, she would have done the interview naked. I’m guessing she would have done anything to get the job."

"Well, I’m not on the market." She waves her wedding band at me. "I already got the best girl around."

I can’t help but smile. "Good answer." I take the application from her and tear it in half. Not as satisfying as tossing that bitch off the balcony, but it’ll do. "I have a feeling this is going to be a true blue, dyed in the wool nightmare. Between the nuts and the sluts, we’re gonna disqualify a lot of people."

She tosses the clipboard down on the couch. "This is true. So, why don’t you and me go and make some good dreams right now, chér?"

"Hmm, an offer I can definitely get into. Will you rub my back?"

She gives me an evil grin, then turns me toward the bedroom, massaging my shoulders while we walk down the hall. "Your back, your front. You just tell Dr. Kingsley where it hurts."

* * *

"How’s the story with Sam going?" Kels asks from her position on my lap. We’re in the family room, watching a video, relaxing after another long day at work. I have my feet propped up on the coffee table – as long as I don’t wear my shoes, this is acceptable to my dear spouse – and Kels is stretched across the couch. From her position, she alternatively demands head scratches, belly rubs and food treats. I think she’s been spending too much time around Kam. Of course, I would never ever say this to her. I value my life and I would like to see my children one day.

"Which do you want to know more about? The story? Or Sam?" Two entirely different conversations.

She smiles up at me fondly. "So precise. No wonder you’re such a good producer." She stretches and snuggles into me more. "Start with Sam."

"He’s a good guy, I like him. He tends to be ‘what you see is what you get.’ I like that. There’s no bullshit or prima donna crap. He’s more than just a meat puppet." Our industry has a number of highly negative nicknames for the Talent. Mostly earned, mind you. "He’s a family man, too. You know his youngest son is deaf, right?"

Kels nods. "I thought I had heard that."

"I wonder what that’s like."

"Being deaf?"

I shake my head. "Not that. More being the parent of a disabled child."

"I think the PC term is differently-abled, darling."

I sigh. I don’t care about being politically correct. I care about my kids. "I know. I don’t care if our kids come out purple and polka dotted, but don’t you ever worry about it? What if they aren’t perfect?"

Kels must pick up on my concern because she grasps my hand and drags it over onto her stomach. "We love them, no matter what."

"I know. And I would, of course. But, I hate to think that our kids would miss out hearing me tell them I love them. Or, if they were blind and couldn’t see us … or the car coming at them while they crossed the street. Or what if they couldn’t walk? Or had a heart defect? Or …"

"Sweetheart," Kels interrupts, before I can get myself too worked up. "It doesn’t do you any good to imagine all the things that could go wrong."

She’s right, of course.

"Do you have a particular reason to be concerned? Does your family have a history of genetic birth defects?"

I shake my head vigorously. I would have told her that before we used my brothers as stud service. "Not at all."

"I didn’t think so, especially judging by all your gorgeous nieces and nephews. So, in all likelihood, everything will be fine. And, we know that Dr. McGuire would tell us if he were at all worried about something."

That’s true. I stroke Kels’ belly reassuringly. "No matter what, I love them."

"I know that, Harper. I know you." She leans up and kisses me. "Now, however, if they did come out purple and polka dotted, I would be a bit worried."

I can’t help but chuckle. "Why?"

"Do you think the fertility clinic could have mixed up your brothers’ sperm with Barney’s?"

I burst out laughing, causing Kelsey to bounce around on my lap. "Oh my God! Chér, you just put the most horrific vision in my brain of Barney and a little Dixie cup."

She snickers. "Think they show him ‘The Land Time Forgot’ to put him in the mood?"

* * *

I get home later than expected. It always seems to be that way on Friday nights. Must be just to piss me off. There’s nothing I like more than weekends with my girl. And, after the story work I’ve been doing this week, I’ve really been looking forward to this one.

Kam meets me at the door, but with a little less than his usual exuberance. "Hi ya, boy," I drop down to my knees and give him a big hug, ruffling his fur as I do so. He whines in my ear and then licks my neck. "What’s wrong, boy?" I ask, pulling back.

He trots down the hallway to the kitchen and stares down into his empty food bowl. His long pink tongue hangs out from his mouth. Then he moves to the hall and whines a bit. Kam is a pathetic picture right now.

"What? Did your mommy forget to feed you tonight?" I ask, reaching into the pantry and scooping out the dry food he gets in the evening. "Kels!" I call out, in a teasing tone. "You forgot our dog, baby." I fill his bowl. Instead of coming to eat he continues to stare at down the hallway towards our room and whine.

Then I realize, I didn’t receive an answer from Kels.

Suddenly my heart stops beating. The hair on the back of my neck raises and horrible visions of California fill my mind.

Kelsey.

The babies.

"Kels!" I call again, willing my voice to not sound too strained. I race through the house, only mildly reassured by the lack of signs of a struggle. I burst into our room and find Kels sprawled on our bed, fast asleep.

God, let her be asleep.

I wouldn’t be able to survive if she isn’t okay. Not now. I stumble to our bed and reach out blindly for her. "Kels, baby," I whisper.

She groans and rolls over.

Thank you, God.

"Sweetheart, are you all right?" I ask, grateful that my heart has resumed activity. I reach around her and pull her tight against my body. Instantly, I feel the heat pouring off her body.

"Don’t feel well," she murmurs, her lips tickling the skin of my neck.

"Mmm," I murmur noncommittally, reaching up to feel her forehead. "Baby, you’re burning up." It’s true. My Little Roo is running a fever.

Kels holds on to me tighter. "I’m just tired. Been a long week."

"Did you take your temperature, chér?"

"I came home and laid down for a few minutes. I must have fallen asleep."

She tries to sit up, but I hold her tighter, keeping her right where she is. "You’ve been pushing it pretty hard this week. You’ve done every little shitty piece Langston has assigned you and you haven’t gotten enough rest." I kiss her hot forehead. "I’m sorry. I should have made sure you were taking care of yourself."

"It’s not your fault. I am just tired and cramping a little."

Holy shit! "Cramping?" I will my voice to be steady.

"A little."

"For how long?"

She shrugs, her eyes fluttering closed again. "Most of today."

I kiss her forehead one more time and disengage myself from her reluctantly. I head to the bathroom and get the thermometer and a washcloth. I wet the fabric and come back to the bedroom. "Open up. Keep this under your tongue," I say, even as I slide it into her mouth. I press the cloth against her brow and hold her hand while we wait for the results.

I am not reassured when it comes back at one hundred. I pick up the phone and punch in Dr. McGuire’s beeper number. Less than two minutes later, he returns my call. "McGuire?"

"What’s wrong with Kelsey, Harper?" he asks, concern coloring his voice.

"She’s running a fever and cramping."

He asks a few questions and I relay what I know, asking Kels to fill in any gaps. After a brief consultation directly with Kels, he speaks to me once again. "Make her stay in bed and rest. I’m going to call in a script to a pharmacy near you. Have her take it tonight. Try to get her fever down with cool cloths. If the cramping becomes worse, the fever goes up or if she starts bleeding, go to an ER and page me."

I can barely breathe. I feel like there’s a huge weight on my chest. "Will she be all right, doc? The babies?" I barely get my last question out. I don’t want to cry in front of Kels right now.

"I’m sure everything will be fine, Harper. It sounds like Kels caught a virus. It happens all the time to pregnant women."

"I ... I couldn’t … los…" I stop, unable to continue.

"Harper, calm down. Everything should be fine. Kels needs you to relax and take care of her right now."

I take a deep breath. "Okay."

"Call me in the morning and tell me how much better she’s doing, all right?"

I nod. "I will."

Lord knows, I won’t be getting any sleep tonight.

* * *

The phone rings very early in the morning. I open my eyes, glancing at the clock. Six a.m. Kels is in front of me, sound asleep and I want to answer to the phone before it wakes her. She was fussy all night long and didn’t rest really well.

Carefully, I reach over her shoulder and retrieve the phone. Rolling away from her, I pull myself up ,rubbing my face to get awake. "Kingsley."

"Harper, it’s Cliff Gates." One of the studio managers. Oh shit, this can’t be good.

"What’s up, Cliff?"

"We need you to come in today."

"What? Why? What’s going on?"

"We had a serious setback on the piece Bruce was doing. Langston said for you and Sam to get your story in the can so we can use it."

"Shit," I mumble, looking over at Kels. I don’t want to leave her. Her fever has gone down but I know she’s still not well. "It’ll be at least an hour before I can get there."

"It’s going to take Sam time to get here too. He has to drive down from Rockland County."

"I’ll be there as soon as I get some things taken care of here at home."

"See you."

I shut the phone off, glancing to Kels, who has rolled over to face me. Her eyes are slowly opening. I can tell by the look on her face she still doesn’t feel well. I reach out and place my hand on her forehead. The fever has broken. "How are you feeling, baby?"

"Better," she mumbles, rubbing her face into the pillow. "Not great, but better."

"The cramps?"

"Stopped."

Thank God. "I have to go into the studio."

"Hmm." She nods, closing her eyes. I know she’s not feeling well since there are no questions or argument.

I brush my hand through her hair, still a bit damp from the sweat of her fever during the night. I don’t want to leave her, but if I must, I won’t leave her home alone. I give her a lingering kiss to the forehead before I reluctantly disentangle myself from her.

Climbing out of bed, I head to the kitchen for coffee. I read the list of numbers posted next to the phone there, scanning for the one I want. Picking up the receiver, I dial the number. I turn on the coffeemaker and watch the precious liquid begin to drip into the pot.

"What…" a very sleepy voice answers.

"Brian?"

"Yeah." There’s a pause, followed by a gentle clearing of the throat. "Harper? Is something wrong?"

"Sort of. Listen, I have to go to the studio this morning and Kels is sick. She’s been ordered to stay in bed." The coffeemaker sputters and gurgles, signaling the start of a new day to me. I pour a cup, eschewing cream or sugar. If I could set up a caffeine drip directly into a vein this morning, I would. "I don’t want to leave her alone. Any chance you could come keep her company while I’m gone?"

"Absolutely! I’ll be there in about a half hour."

"Thanks a lot, Brian. I really…"

"Save it, Stud. I’ll see you soon." He hangs up, leaving me listening to a dead connection.

Sipping my coffee, I return to our room and take a seat on the bed next to her. Kels rolls over and opens her eyes. "Morning, Tabloid." She sounds weak and tired.

"Morning, babe. How do you feel?"

"I’m okay. I was really tired last night."

"Doctor McGuire says that you have to stay in bed and rest today." She nods, accepting this without argument. Now I know she’s feeling bad. "Brian’s coming over."

"Why?"

"I have to go in to work for a while. I don’t want you to be alone."

"I’ll be all right. He doesn’t have to…"

I hold up a hand, forestalling further argument. "Humor me?"

"All right, sweetheart." She takes a deep breath and runs her hand over her stomach.

God, she has filled out. "Everything okay there?" I lay my hand carefully on top of hers.

"They’re very active this morning. That’s good."

That’s very good. It’s the best thing I could hear.

* * *

"I really do feel much better," I assure Kevin as Brian brings me lunch. With my doctor on the phone and my assistant in the room I can’t help but smile. They are both acting like overprotective mother hens.

"Kelsey," Kevin’s voice is firm, "I want you to stay in bed for the rest of the weekend. No stressful activity and I mean no stressful activity. I want you to rest and finish taking that prescription I had sent over. I’m sure it’s nothing, a summer cold, no doubt. But your body is under a lot of stress and I know your job keeps you busy. So, this weekend, you behave and stay in bed."

I will, but I don’t know if my partner can behave and stay in bed at the same time. "Yes, doctor." I roll my eyes at Brian. "I promise to be good."

I hear him chuckle at the tone in my voice. "All right, Kelsey. I believe you. I just don’t want to face Harper in an ER." His tone is teasing, but somehow I don’t blame him. She would be insane.

"Good point," I agree, looking at the tray Brian has settled on the bed. How in the world does he expect me to eat all of this? This could feed a small nation. "I promise to rest. Between you and Harper and the two babysitters I have today, I don’t have much choice."

"Well, good. Sometimes it’s necessary to stop trouble before it gets started. If you have any more problems, don’t hesitate to call me. I’ll see you next week."

"Thanks, Kevin." Hanging up the phone, I toss it down on the comforter and gesture to the tray. "This is?"

"Lunch," Brian tells me from the spot he has created for himself in the corner of the room. He hasn’t left my side for more than ten minutes. He even brought Doug with him to run errands and take care of Kam, so I would never be left alone.

"Lunch for four. Get over here and help me eat this." I pat the bed so he’ll join me. "Where’s Doug?"

"He took Kam to the park." As he settles on the bed, the phone rings again. He picks it up by the antenna, waving it in front of my face. "Ten bucks says it’s Stud."

I take the phone. However, I won’t take that sucker bet. Of course it’s her. She hasn’t checked in for almost twenty minutes. "Hello?"

"Hi, chér. How are you feeling?"

"Harper, I’m fine." Brian stifles a laugh, falling back on the bed. He plucks a grape from my tray and pops it into his mouth. "I just talked to Dr. McGuire."

"What did he say? Are you okay? Do you need to go see…"

"Honey, relax. Breathe. I’m fine. He says I have a cold and I need to stay in bed and rest this weekend."

"You’re going do that, right? You’re not going to argue about it?"

No. Even if I wanted to, I wouldn’t cause Harper distress like she’s experiencing now. "I’m staying right here and you won’t hear anything out of me about it."

"You are sick."

"Tabloid, I felt awful last night. I was a little scared. I’m not gonna risk our children. If Kevin says stay in bed, then I’m staying in bed."

"Well, you know it’s my favorite place."

"Yeah, but he also said I have to be good and rest." Brian snorts and I shove him with my foot. "He specifically said no stressful activity." Brian gets another shove as I watch his shoulders shake with silent laughter.

"Darlin’, you do exactly what Doogie tells you to do. I’ll be home as soon as I can."

"Speaking of which…"

"I have no idea. It’s been a day of Murphy’s Law around this damn place. Everything that could go wrong, has gone wrong. We’ve had tapes eaten by machines. Sound and lighting equipment has failed. It’s like we have a gremlin here. But, I promise, baby, I’ll be home as soon as I can."

"Just concentrate on that story, Tabloid. It’s an important one. We want those people to answer for this."

"I know. Sam and I put together a really good piece. The daycare has acted very responsibly as well and fired three of their people. An investigation is definitely gonna happen."

"Oh, that’s good to hear. Good job, sweetheart."

"It was Sam. He did a really good job with it. He caught the problem early before something tragic could happen and got the proper people involved."

"He certainly did," I tell her quietly. I’m very proud of her and the job she did on this story. "I love you, Harper."

"Love you too, Little Roo. Rest. I’ll be home as soon as I can."

<fade out>

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