Chris quietly rapped on his mother's bedroom door before opening it and peering inside. "Ma?" he asked, tentatively.

"Christian, get in here and help me with my zipper."

He pushed the door open a little further to find his mother standing in front of the mirror, struggling to zip the back of her dress. Even at fifty-two, Eileen Driscoll was still an attractive woman, though the last ten years of her life had been riddled with illness.

He found himself blushing as he looked over at his mother's reflection in the mirror, and he backed away from the door. "I'm no good with zippers. I'll get Suse."

She laughed at his obvious embarrassment. "Don't be ridiculous. You're my son, and I'm sure you have no problem with zippers when it comes to your lady friend."

The mention of Rocky only made him blush more, but being the dutiful son that he was, he obediently stepped into the room to help with her zipper.

"What's she like, this girl of yours?" she asked, watching him in the mirror as he came up behind her. "She must be someone special to have captured your heart."

He focused his attention on the zipper, hoping she hadn't noticed the blush, slowly and carefully, pulling the zipper up against her back. "She's... great."

"That's all you have to say about the girl you're going to marry?"

"I never said I was going to marry her."

Once the zipper was in place, Eileen turned to face her son, a smile on her face. She knew he was in love. The signs were all there. She just hoped that his marriage didn't end up the way hers had.

She reached up to rest a hand against his cheek. Twenty-four years old already. He wasn't her little boy anymore; he was a man. "You can't fool me, Chris. You never could. I know you better than anyone. I know you love this girl. I can see it in your eyes. I can hear it in your voice."

He sighed, frowning. "Okay, maybe I do, but..."

She pressed a finger against his lips, silencing him. "No buts. If you love her, then tell her, and no matter what happens, don't ever let her go."

He wished it was that simple, but it wasn't. She didn't know the half of it, and she probably never would. "I just hope you like her."

She smiled again and brushed her fingers through his hair, remembering the boy that he had once been. Always too serious. He'd grown up far too fast. "How could I not like the woman my son has chosen to spend his life with? I just want you to be happy, Christian. That's all that I want."

She reached up to brush a kiss against his cheek. "Now, let's not keep your sister waiting, shall we? We have a new baby to welcome into God's family."

Chris frowned. "Right." After all the things he'd seen in his twenty-four years, he had his doubts about God, but who was he to argue? It seemed she was having a good day today, and he wasn't about to ruin it, no matter what happened.

She had the look, she knew she'd messed up today, big time. She wouldn't blame him for telling her to leave. No matter how hard it would be, she'd do it for him.

He was sitting on the couch in the dark, a bottle of beer in one hand, wearing a crisp white shirt that wasn't so crisp anymore, open at the collar, a discarded jacket and tie laying on the couch beside him. He wasn't normally much of a drinker, but he'd made an exception today.

"Honey, just don't shoot me." She was talking quietly as she walked toward his place on the couch, seeing him there. "I am really sorry." She reached out to touch his arm.

"Well, look what the cat dragged in," he said sarcastically, lifting his bottle of beer toward her. "Be late for your own funeral someday." He pulled his arm out of her reach and took another swig of the beer. "How much?"

She looked pained that he'd even ask such a thing. "How much?"

"How big was the haul? Or are you gonna lie to me and tell me you got stuck in traffic?"

"You think this is about money?" She sighed, so much for flight delays, and traffic. "I only got half of what was due...but I was on my way here til someone tipped the feds, and they raided us."

"Poor you. Only half. Enough to pay the rent on your fancy condo for another year then."

"Damn it, Chris, I was trying to get here. I told them I had to go....then the Feds showed up, and I had to answer questions at the hospital." She moved to sit down beside him, a wince when she bumped that leg. "You have a key to that condo, it's as much your home as mine." Another sigh. "You have no idea, how sorry I am."

He wasn't normally the kind to get angry, but he was bitterly disappointed by her absence. "You knew how much this meant to me."

"I was trying to get here, I swear to Christ!"

Part of his mind registered what she was telling him, but the part that was doing the talking didn't seem to care, or maybe it was the beer that were loosening his tongue.

"I was in Cheyenne, surely you heard about the bust on the news?"

He chuckled dryly. "My home? This is my home, Rock." He gestured around him with the half-empty bottle of beer. "I'm just a street kid from Boston, remember? I don't travel in your circles."

"I shot myself in the leg, okay? I had to get out of there, FBI would have had me in the Pen, then what? I blamed it on Ike and his brother, said they'd taken me hostage."

"Ike, that piece of shit. I warned you about that asshole. He probably set you up. You want me to pull up his rap sheet? Or maybe I should check and see what the Feds have on him."

"Do whatever makes you happy, but he's in jail now for sure, just talk to me, please."

Yeah, that was it. Whenever he was feeling anxious, he'd bury himself in his work. He took another swallow of his beer. "What do you wanna talk about? You wanna talk about how I had to make excuses for you again? If you don't wanna meet my family, just say so."

"God, I said I am sorry! You've been drinking, and you aren't listening! I do want to meet them, even though babies scare the hell out of me."

"You always say you're sorry, Rock!"

"So what do I need to do, Chris?"

He blew out a breath and dropped into a chair, setting the bottle of beer on the table. "How's your leg?"

"Hurts." She wondered if he was going to talk to her now.

He purposely didn't answer her question. There was no point. They'd been over it before. If she didn't understand how important this was to him by now, there was no point in him explaining it yet again.

"Gonna leave a mark?"

"Not much of one, it was enough to get me out of there."

Outwardly, he seemed to mellow a little, though inside he was still a tangle of emotions. "You okay?"

"No, my boyfriend hates me right now."

He visibly winced. Had she kept her promise and been there, she might be his fiancee right now instead of just his girlfriend. Not that it mattered. What kind of life could he offer her really? She deserved better.

She leaned against him, thankful that he hadn't thrown her out, snuggling into his neck. "You smell good, and it's nice to see you in something other than a tshirt. I hope you took pics."

"I clean up okay, huh?"

"You would look good in a potato sack."

His glasses were still sitting on the table, the lenses no longer hiding the blue of his eyes. That got a laugh. "I think I'm supposed to tell you that."

"So I stole it from you."

She reached up and ran her fingers across his cheek and then looked him in the eyes. "You are my life, you know?"

"Yeah, I know." He wasn't sure if he completely believed her or not. His father had said the same thing to his mother, and look what had happened to them. He slid a hand around to the back of her neck, drawing her downward into a kiss.

She returned his kiss, her hands moved down his shoulders and trailed his back. She lifted off his lap, and limped slightly. "Come on, Cheers. You can be my nurse." She held out her hand to help steady him should he need it, and smiled finally.

He slid off the chair and took her hand. She'd won this round. He hadn't given up on her yet. "Only if you tuck me in."

"How are you my nurse if I am tucking you in?" She nudged him, "You have the game wrong."

He'd have picked her up and carried her, but he didn't trust himself not to drop her. The room was spinning, and he was feeling a little lightheaded. "I'd make a pretty homely nurse."

"No, homely was in Cheyenne." She shook her head. "You are a sexy nurse."

"Yeah? You want me to give you a sponge bath or something?"

"Ooh, that's a good start." She took him toward the bedroom. Truth told she just wanted to be close. At that moment, nothing else mattered, but the moment wouldn't last. It never did.