[20 Dec 2000  Heather's home.  California.]

DINO

It was after one a.m. when I finally came back inside.  Heather was at her laptop, glasses on, her face buried in a medical file while her fingers flew over the keys.  She was sort of mumbling to herself; a habit my Heather shared also.  It made me smile.  She was going on about Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder and how deciphering this doctor's handwriting was going to give it to her.  Heh.

She flipped the page.  "Don't bother to cross your 'T's' or anything, you old bastard.  Really.  I'm a mind reader....."  I chuckled and she turned around with a blush.  Her eyes were soft, though, as she looked at my face.  I know my eyes had to have been red and I hadn't quite been able to let go of the letter just yet.  "You OK?"

I ran a hand through my hair.  "Yeah."  As good as I could be, anyway.  And I was so drained emotionally, I felt weak with it.  What I really wanted was a long hot shower and then for my brain to turn off so I could sleep like the dead for a couple of hours. 

I brushed my fingers one last time over the letter and set it on the mantle.  "Thank you for that."  It seemed like an odd thing to say.  Thank you for this thing that made me feel like my guts had been ripped out, rearranged and packed back inside me in a way I wasn't quite comfortable with.  But it also made me feel a bit like the Tinman.  Like somehow in all of that rearranging, I'd found a lost piece of my heart.  And it was beating now.  Painfully.  Beautifully.  In a place that had been cold and dark since I'd lost Gen. 

Her face softened but she said nothing, she just came over and touched my shoulder gently.  Really, what can you say?  This situation was both too surreal and too real.  And for all my training as a K and R consultant- there were times when even I didn't know what the hell to say.  Jesus.  Where do we go from here?

As it turns out, we went to the kitchen.  Isn't that where most people wind up when they are awake at home at 1:17 in the morning?  We'd been dealing with some pretty heavy stuff and both of us seemed to need a lighter moment to sort of regroup.  She smiled at me.  "Can I get you something?  Coffee?"  She cocked her head at me and gave me this look.  "You still picky about your tea?"

That made me laugh.  "Well.... yeah."  I took a liking to the stuff in Japan.  The good stuff.  Seems to be true with tea as well as with scotch.  Had a little Japanese market here I used to go to for it.  The real stuff- not the crap they pass off as tea in the supermarkets. 

She grinned.  "Well, coffee it is then.  I don't have anything you'd consider decent tea."  She set about making some coffee.  "You hungry?"  She kind of blushed a little.  "I don't have much in the way of 'big' people food, but I do have some leftovers from last night.  I made a pot of hearty chicken soup...."

"Perfect."

She laughed.  "I've been reading Andy that book, Stone Soup, and we sort of make our own version from time to time."

"With the stone?"  I had to tease, but really- chicken soup is one of my favorite comfort foods.  How right was it that we'd share that tonight?  Jesus.  And how long had it been since I'd had something homemade?     

She smiled.  "Well.... yeah."  She pitched me the smooth gray stone that had been sitting with the clean dishes in the sink.  "We usually keep it on the mantle with the other pebble."

I walked it over and returned it to the mantle while she heated the soup and poured the coffee.  Fingering the red pebble on the mantle, I gave her a look.  "This isn't Sylvester's Magic Pebble by any chance, is it?" 

"Wow.  We play that game all the time.   You know- wish on the pebble so it can turn you into whatever you want.  How did you know that?"

"Lucky guess."  I fingered the pebble.  "It was Gen's favorite children's book."

"Was it?  I didn't know that."  We sat down at the table to eat and she gave me another one of those looks.  "What's your favorite?"

"Where the Wild Things Are."  

She laughed.  "Now, why am I not surprised?"  

I couldn't respond.  My mouth was full of soup.  Damn, it was good.  For a moment, I could almost convince myself I was back in her mom's kitchen and all this was just some sort of dream... until a curious little face peeked around the corner.  Heather got up and went to him before she'd even been able to eat three bites.  Jesus.  Did she ever get a chance to eat a meal straight through?  I wasn't thrilled about that but my displeasure was overridden by my intense desire to meet Andy.  What would he make of me?

Heather picked him up.  He had his thumb in his mouth but he wasn't hiding his face in her neck.  He was watching me with these great huge eyes.  I hoped I passed muster.  I was more nervous than I'd been going into that jungle in Tecala.  At least I'd been prepared for that.  In this situation, I wasn't too sure what to do.  I hate that feeling so I just followed Heather's lead.  She sat down on the couch with Andy in her lap and patted the couch cushion next to her, inviting me wordlessly to come sit. 

I sat down and drew in a shaky breath.  Jesus.  I could see Gen in his face.  I wanted to cry.  And laugh.  And throw up.  And crow with pride.  My boy.  And he was wearing these fucking red Spiderman pajamas that clashed with his hair.  Heh.  Damn.  I couldn't take my eyes off him.

His face scrunched up and he took his thumb out of his mouth.  "Who you?"  He gestured to me with a wet thumb.  My heart turned over in my chest. 

Heather jiggled him softly against her to get his attention and met my eyes for a moment.  "This is your dad, Andy." 

"Dad?"  His little brow creased up in confusion.  

"I know I told you your dad was in Heaven with your mom but I made a mistake."  His eyes finally swung from me to her.  "Your dad wasn't in Heaven, he was..... lost."  Her voice caught a little.  "He was lost and all this time, he's been trying to find a way to get back to us.  He looked and looked..."  She squeezed my hand briefly.  "And now he's found us and that made him really happy because there's nothing in the whole world he wants more than to be your dad."

He looked over at me.  "You lost?"  I nodded, trying to get a handle on the feelings Heather's simple, childlike explanation had released inside me.  He looked back at her.  "Dad found us?"

"Yes.  He found us-" before she could finish, he'd pushed himself off her lap and run back down the hall.  For a minute I thought maybe what she'd said had scared him, but then he was back, clutching a plastic picture frame to his chest. 

He ran to her and held it out.  "This my daddy."  It was a picture of me.  My heart warmed that she'd think to do that.  To give him a picture of me.   

Heather smiled.  "You're right.  You're so smart, Andy."  He beamed as she took the picture and held it up by my face.  "See, look.  Same face.  Same silly smile.  Same hair.... red, just like yours."  She set the picture aside as he crawled back into her lap.  "I think we should say 'hi', don't you?"

She turned to me.  "Hi dad."  I held my breath, wondering if he'd accept me.  Hoping and praying that he would.

He rubbed his face and squirmed a little.  "You my daddy?"  

"I sure am."  I nodded and was a little surprised when he crawled into my lap for a closer look.

"I Andy."  He put his hands on either side of my face and looked at me hard, his nose all wrinkled up while he studied me. 

"Hi Andy."

"Hi Daddy," he said simply, engrossed in looking at me, in touching a man's face.  This tingly warm feeling flooded my chest and I felt my eyes grow wet.  I can't even imagine how huge the goofy grin I had was in that moment.  He touched my hair and then patted his head.  "Like me!"

"Just like you, buddy."  Buddy.  It just slipped out.  That's what my dad called me when I was little.  And still did, once in a blue moon.  Back in my old world, at least. 

"I your buddy?"  His fingers were busy, trying to dig my lighter out of my pocket.  Heh.  

"Absolutely."  My buddy.  My son.  This incredible little person who was part of me, and part of Gen, and also part of Heather, too.  Maybe not genetically, but she'd shaped this little person I was meeting tonight.  I looked over at her.  She had wet eyes and a goofy smile too. 

"Cool beans!"  Andy shouted.  It cracked me the hell up.  I looked over at Heather.  She had the cutest little blush on her.

"Pick that up from you, did he?"  I couldn't help but tease her.  My Heather had said that too.  It was one of the things I'd liked about her.  She wasn't afraid to be different. 

Before she could answer, Andy had slithered off my lap, nearly making an eunuch of me in the process, and grabbed Heather's hands.  I could see I was going to have to figure out how to maneuver him in close quarters pretty damn quick if I wanted to keep my manhood intact.  He pulled on Heather's hands again.  "Dance!  C'mon, Mamatu.... Dance!"

I gave her a look and her blush got deeper as she rose and went to the stereo, flipping through the CD's, explaining to me while she did.  "When Andy can't sleep, we put on music and dance 'till he's tired.  Wears him out faster than anything else." 

It was just this silly little thing they did, but that moment, it sort of struck me pretty hard.  It was the first little detail I learned about my new family, and I'm a really big believer in those.  It's those private little details that make what you have with someone special.  They're these things that you do with them that nobody else knows.  And now, I knew one of theirs.  Sometimes, late at night, they put on music and dance. 

Hmm....  Dancing with a pretty girl in the middle of the night?  Was this kid smooth, or what?  Like father, like son.  Heh.  I like dancing with pretty girls late at night too.

I didn't feel quite so smooth when he grabbed my hand and insisted I dance as well.  What usually constitutes dancing for me involves a sexy woman with her hips pressed to mine.  I felt like a complete idiot getting my groove on under Andy's curious gaze.  Couldn't say no, though.  Never once crossed my mind.  No way was I going to pass up my first shot at being a part of their little details.  I got a real kick out of watching him dance, waving his little arms around and shaking his butt.  Heh.  He's an O'Leary through and through. 

Watching Heather dance made me feel something else entirely.  She moved with this sensual grace that just got to me, man.  Especially after she got hot and took off that green sweater to reveal a little white spaghetti strap tank top.  She wasn't wearing a bra underneath.  She didn't need one and I could see the faint shadow of her nipples as she swayed and moved to the beat.  It aroused me, but I was having a hard time meshing these two very different parts of my nature.  It was confusing to feel both a father's enjoyment of his son's antics and a man's enjoyment of a beautiful female body.  It felt unfamiliar, but not exactly wrong.

Andy watched us both as he jumped around and clapped his hands.  I don't think I've ever felt more awkward in my life.  Don't think I've ever felt warmer inside, either.  Andy gave me this look that was pure Gen.  "You dance funny."

Heather giggled.  Andy did too.  "Thanks, buddy."

"Welcome, Daddy."  It rolled off his tongue so easy, like he'd just been saying it forever.  I wiped my eyes and thought my heart just might burst from my chest.  We danced a bit longer until Andy's cheeks were as red as his hair and both Heather and I had worked up a sweat.  She looked good, somewhere between sexy woman and soft mother. 

Andy stopped dancing and rubbed at his eyes tiredly but protested when she went to turn off the music.  It gave me an idea.  Sorting through their eclectic collection, recognizing many of my own CD's among them, I picked out the perfect one and popped it in.  I picked up Andy and handed him to Heather and she smiled and nodded when she caught on to what I had planned.

The music started, soft and slow.  I took her hand in mine and put my right at the small of her back.  Her left cradled Andy against her breast.  He put his head on her shoulder.  She put hers on mine.  It was more like swaying than dancing, but by the time the song had ended, he was out like a light.  Am I good, or what?   

She whispered to me as we parted, asked me if I wanted to put him down.  I shook my head.  I didn't want her to feel like I was moving in too fast.  Taking too much.  Besides, I planned to be back bright and early.  I did follow and watch her though.  It struck a chord in me to see her like that, caring so sweetly for my son.  No, that's not right.  Our son.  I tried that on for size.  Our son.  He was ours.  Hers and mine and Gen's. 

Well, really, Andy was only Gen's.  Heather had chosen to take what life handed her.... and now I had too.  I kind of liked that.  We were a family because we'd chosen to be one.  Because this place had given us a chance to be one.  And I couldn't help but feel a little like Gen was still watching out for me.  Leaving this root behind to bind me to this Otherplace and to people I cared deeply about. 

Our son.  I tried it on again and it felt good.  Felt right.  

We walked to her door after.  I made a shameless plea for her to please keep my soup until tomorrow.  She smiled and nodded and then dashed away but was back a minute later, handing me the envelope with Dean's old letter in it.  I should have protested, told her to keep it, but instead I just thanked her and tucked it into my jacket pocket.  I told her to eat something, to get some sleep and told her I'd be back in the morning.  We said a quiet goodnight and just before she closed the door, she said something I think I'd really been needing to hear. 

I'm glad you found us, Dean.

[20 Dec  2000  -  Sausalito, California.]       

DINO

That's it, honey.  C'mon... turn over... let me see you... feel you...  I wanted to feel her on her belly under me, warm and curvy and receptive to all my whispered suggestions; to the rhythm of our breathing and the subtle cues of my touch.  I wanted her not quite awake... and not quite asleep.  Lost in that hazy place where you just want to be held and feel the pleasant rub of another snuggly, sleep-warmed body. 

I wanted to feel the silky tickle of her hair.  Feel her soft smooth skin under the rough stubble of my cheek as I rubbed it against her shoulder and down the graceful sweep of her back.  Wanted to feel that sweet, delectable curve of female flesh that always excites me and makes me feel like a bit of a kid when I see myself touching it.  It winds me up so much.  Always has.   

Sliding my hand up over the smooth swell of that irresistible little rump.  Kissing that cute dimple at the base of her spine.  Nipping.  Sucking.  Sighing at the taste of her skin and the scent of warm sleepy woman.  Hearing that soft little sound she makes as I slip my fingers between her legs.  Smiling at the way she instinctively lets me in.  Letting her hear my low hum of approval when I find her pink and pouty, wet with last night's leavings.  She smells like me- a blend of cologne and sweat and come- and as I feel her flutter around my fingers, all I can think about is how much I want to be inside her, safe and warm.  Already moving my hips, not even trying to ignore that primal drive to push inside and just pump and pump....

A passing siren on the street below woke me, but not enough to bring me to full consciousness.  Like the woman in my dream, I hovered at the edge of sleep.  Fuzzyheaded and aroused, I responded to the lingering urge to turn over on my stomach and rub against the soft bedding.  I buried my face in the pillows and slid a hand under my body to grasp my dick.  Partly for comfort.  Partly because it just felt good.  And partly because the dream still had a hold of me and I was too close not to finish. 

I rocked into my fist, slow and lazy.  In that easy way men have when they don't have to worry about performing or what they look like, when a man can be utterly graceless, when he can go as slow or as fast as he wants and the only thing that matters is his own pleasure.  When he isn't afraid to reveal any of the little details that show how familiar he is with his own body and how well acquainted he is with this most intimate task.  I tightened my grip and fell back into the fantasy, still hazy but awake enough to shape it as I wanted instead of being a passive observer. 

In my mind, I felt her tight little walls clutching at me.  Felt her soft slender body under mine.  Heard her make those soft little noises in her throat that told me she liked what I was doing to her.  In reality, I was smiling into my pillow and shuddering into my hand.  My dream girl came and so did I; in a wet rush that made my smile bigger and bought me another hour of blissful, dreamless sleep. 

Though the extra hour of sleep did me a world of good, I'm definitely of the opinion that the sent of sex on the sheets isn't nearly as appealing when it lacks the warmer notes of a woman's pleasure as well.  With a small sigh, I tossed back the covers, got up, threw on some clothes and went for a run.  Took a long hot shower, ate, dressed and then hit the road.  I was burning daylight and I had a shitload of stuff I needed to get done.

I'd intended to show up at Heather's about 9 but it was closer to 10 when I pulled in the drive.  The door opened and I saw this sweet simple image of a woman holding a child framed in the doorway.  It's a sight I've seen quite a few times, actually... but it never felt like this.  Usually it was some distraught lady whose husband had just been kidnapped, wanting me to be some sort of rock she could cling to.  This time it was my family happy to see me just because I'm me.  What a fucking good feeling that was.   

My family.  That's how I thought of them now.  My family.  My responsibility... my new haven.  This new fragile thing that I was sort of figuring out as I went.  I won't lie.  The size of this responsibility and the changes I'd have to make scared the shit out of me.  But the other side of that was the fact that when it wasn't scaring me shitless, it felt pretty damned good.         

I came bearing gifts, naturally.  No, not flowers.  That was still too intimate.  A strange thought considering this was the woman with whom I wanted to raise a child, but true nonetheless.  I wasn't trying to buy my way into their affections but you can be damn certain if my family had a need, I intended to provide.  The first two sacks I brought in held groceries. 

It was a little awkward greeting them at the door, but Andy just busted out with, "Morning, Daddy," like he'd been doing it for years. 

"Morning, buddy."  I grinned at him and he got all serious and held out his finger, showing me his band-aid. 

"My finger got hurted."  

They both followed me inside as I brought the groceries in.  "What happened?"  He hid his face in Heather's neck and I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing.  He had guilty written all over him. 

"I a bad boy."  Heh.  Poor kid.  Still, I managed to keep the laugh in.  I didn't think she would have appreciated me commiserating with him.  I was a pretty naughty kid too.  Still am.  He looked over and wiggled his band-aid at me.  "Coffee hot!  No touching it!!"

I chuckled as I set the groceries down.  "Well, that's a good rule."  I looked to Heather.  "That what happened?"

"Yup.  He's at that age where he wants to test everything when I tell him 'no'."  She kissed his proffered finger and then set him down when he wiggled to get away, forgetting all about his sore finger.  I watched him scamper off to a pile of blocks on the floor, content to do nothing more than just watch him play for a little while before I turned my gaze back Heather.  She looked good today.  Shockingly young, but still good.  Which made me a little uneasy considering some of the thoughts I'd been having about her recently. 

Today she looked a lot like my Heather, actually.  No makeup.  Hair in a ponytail.  Wearing these black track pants with a white stripe down the side and a black hooded sweatshirt over a white sports bra.  Damn.  Just damn. 

She gave the brown paper sacks I'd brought in a curious look.  "What's that?"

I grinned.  "Big people food."  A bottle of wine.  Some brie and some herb crackers.  A chunk of smoked salmon.  Swiss cheese and sliced honey ham from the deli for sandwiches.  Couple of bags of chips.  A tin of smoked almonds- a personal weakness of mine.  A loaf of French bread, a bunch of asparagus and some spaghetti fixings for dinner tonight.  Some imported beer for me.  A box of Godiva chocolates for her.  A tin of real tea from that little Japanese shop downtown.  That kind of stuff.  Something a bit more gourmet than animal crackers and grape juice.  Fine for him- not so hot for her.     

You should have seen how big her eyes got when I presented the chocolates with a little flourish.  I think she almost cried.  She thanked me sweetly and helped me unpack everything but there were no protestations of 'oh, Dean, you shouldn't have' or 'no, no... it's too much'.  I had enough sense to know she didn't see me as a meal ticket.  I'd had enough experience with that kind of woman to tell the difference.  But I think that was the first time it ever occurred to me that though she clearly adored Andy with all her heart, she might have resented some of the restrictions caring for him had placed on her. 

At twenty-three, I couldn't imagine raising my own kid, much less taking on someone else's.  And having no husband to help her out?  I wondered how she felt about the loss of her freedom.  Did she resent giving up her youth for a baby she never asked for? 

When you're that young you're supposed to be sowing your wild oats, not changing diapers.  You know, learning about life through trial and error. Going out.  Drinking too much.  Staying up too late.  Chatting up cute members of the opposite sex.  Dancing till the sun comes up.  Having wild, passionate, pound-each-other-till-you-can-hardly-walk sex that's followed by hot steamy shower sex before you drag yourself off to work with circles under your eyes and sporting an I-just-got-lucky grin.

I frowned at that.  Her past was her past and I had no right to judge her for whatever she did or didn't do.... (talk about calling the kettle black- I was no angel) but I had a hard time imagining the innocent girl I once knew behaving like that.  Maybe it was just that I didn't want to think about her behaving like that.  I think most men have that feeling toward girls they care deeply about.  We want them to be happy and find love... and at the same time, we want to protect them and have them remain innocent and unspoiled.... untouched by men.  I think it's because we know what dirty fucking animals they can be, probably because from time to time, we're just as dirty.

It got me thinking though.  Did she ever wish she'd made a different choice?  I'm real enough with myself to admit I would have had those thoughts.  Something tells me she is too.  Bet she probably feels just as guilty for them, too. 

You think there wasn't a moment or two or ten after I left here last night where I thought about just driving away and never coming back?  There sure as hell was.  This kind of commitment, it's forever.  For-fucking-ever.  And you bet it scared me.  What if I fuck up?  What if I can't hack it over the long haul?  What if I let them down?  What if I let myself down? 

But then I thought about how his little body felt in my arms and the feeling that bloomed inside me when he first called me 'Daddy' and I knew then I'd rip my guts out trying to be the man he needed.  I wonder if Heather felt that way when she first held that little baby to her small, milkless breasts and knew that she was all he had left in the world.  Is that why she'd made the choice to be his mom? 

Something I heard her mom say to her once came back to me from some forgotten memory.  It's always right to do the right thing.  Could it be that simple?  It really brought home for me the idea that what you learn at your parent's knee stays with you all your life.  I hope the things Andy learns at my knee help him to be the kind of man other men respect.  I hope I can be the kind of father my son respects. 

I felt my cheeks color a bit when I realized I'd been caught letting my inner thoughts wander, my hand frozen, half raised to put the cookies I'd bought out of Andy's reach.  I looked over and sure enough, Heather was watching me.  Someday, hopefully someday soon, we'll be comfortable enough to talk about those kinds of fears with each other. 

There was so much I didn't know.  So much we didn't know.  So many hard things coming down the line, things I knew we'd only be able to handle if we could talk openly with each other.  That line of thinking made me feel pretty shitty about not telling her the whole truth about how I came to be here.  But a film character brought to life? 

Fuck that.  

I'm not even sure I believed it.  I had parents.  I can remember my childhood.  I still have the scar on my left palm where I cut myself with a Swiss army knife when I was 8 so I could be blood brothers with my next door neighbor, Jimmy Feehan.  Tell me how that's fucking possible if I'm a film character?  Until I could work this shit out for myself, I had no intention of revealing any more than absolutely necessary.  Rules be damned.   

Heather raised her eyebrows at me.  "Penny for your thoughts."

I blinked a couple of times and then grinned.  "I was thinking about kids."  Not technically a lie.  "When's Andy's birthday?"  Another of the million little details I didn't yet know.

She smiled.  "The 28th of May.  He'll be three next year."  Memorial weekend.  Man, talk about serendipity.  Her brows furrowed as she looked at me.  "When's yours?"

Damn.  'When's yours'.  That one simple question revealed so much.  Showed that she was interested in getting to know me as a person in my own right.  That she didn't just assume everything about her Dean also applied to me.  That I wasn't just a replacement for someone she once cared about.  "The 17th of January.  Gonna be thirty-eight next month.... you?"  I wanted to show her I didn't expect everything I knew about my Heather to apply to her either.

"13th of March.  I'll be twenty-six going on six hundred...." she teased.  Well, what do you know?  Hers wasn't the same.  My thoughts must have shown on my face because she laughed and told me mine wasn't the same as her Dean's either. 

We shared a good laugh on the way out to the car to bring in the rest of the stuff I'd brought.  More bags.  And a wreath for the door.  They had a small Christmas tree and their two stockings were hung under the mantle, but it's an O'Leary family tradition to have a pinecone wreath with a red bow on it on the door. 

I explained about my tradition to her and as I did, her eyes brightened.  "Oh!  I have one too!"  

She disappeared into the garage and then returned with an incredibly realistic looking bird ornament that had two little wires sticking out of its feet so you could attach it to a branch.  She smiled and handed it to me.  She explained about her family's tradition, but she didn't need to.  I'd spent a Christmas or two in her family home before.  The head of the family was always the one to put it on the tree.  After her dad left, her older brother had been the one to put it on.  It always went on last.  After the star. 

Her smile as I put it on the tree was probably only eclipsed by my own.  Head of the family.  That had a nice ring to it.  We stepped back from the tree to admire it.  Andy just sniffed and mumbled something about birds before he went back to his blocks, but Heather's smile only deepened.  "Wow.  I haven't had one of those on my tree for years," she admitted softly.  There was a nice balance in that.  I smiled back and admitted I hadn't had a wreath on the door in years either.

The three of us spent the entire day together.  I got to learn more of their little details.  They got to learn about some of mine.  I learned about their daily schedule.  What time Andy gets up.  That they play first before breakfast.  Afterwards, he gets to pick a book and she reads to him.  They play some more after that and then before lunch she does yoga on the living room floor. 

Now, let me tell you, I'd have had a hard time not responding to a woman I was attracted to limbering up and reminding me about all the wonderful ways a woman's body could bend and stretch.... except for one little thing.  Andy kept aping her.  She might have been doing 'downward facing dog' with that cute little ass of hers in the air..... but Andy was right there next to her with his little butt in the air too and that just cracked me the hell up. 

So, they did yoga while I choked on my laughter and then after, we ate lunch and then went to the park.  About two she put Andy down for his nap and started transcribing medical records in the resulting silence.  But before I knew it, he was awake and then it was dinnertime.  That was followed by bath time, more playing, a nighttime story and then bedtime. 

Heather usually finished up her transcriptions after he went to bed, but she had a light workload because of the Christmas holidays and we stayed up late talking about Andy.  About Gen.  About her Dean and my Heather and then we sounded each other out about some important issues.  We also did something else I consider equally important.  We just talked about stupid little things.  Got to know each other a little better not as 'Mama Two' and 'Painfully New Dad' but as Heather and Dean, just two people who liked each other's company.      

I drove back to my hotel around midnight and literally fell into bed.  Man, I've spent days in the jungle that didn't tire me out this much.  Keeping up with Andy is rough... but spending the day with him- with them, was like this precious gift I couldn't know how much I ever wanted until I actually got to experience it for myself.  It was a different rush than extracting a hostage, but equally rewarding in this softer way that made me wonder if I hadn't just accidentally stumbled across something that would become the quiet heart of my life.  And that night, sleep came easy to the Tinman and his smiling, tired heart.