• Finally 2006, but just barely
• The ladies have an interesting discussion, inspired by a late night chat with my evil twin
• Life just gets more complicated as it goes, for all
• Randy is in the dog house, again
• This one’s working title was Unexpected Visitors
• Thanks to Nan for making the graphics for me again.  She made me two that suited so we get the second one at the appropriate part.

Feedback: always appreciated!  In other words, yes please. 

Kris glanced around, making sure no one was around to overhear her conversation before she even finished dialing.  She’d been vacillating about calling and asking her, but didn’t want to throw more shit on to an already overflowing plate.  Pushing all guilt aside, knowing her sister wouldn’t say that, let alone think it, she pushed the last digit and waited. 

“Hi honey, I was just thinking about you,“ Carrie’s voice said clearly.  Kris smiled into the receiver. 

“Don’t tell me our ESP is acting up again?  I don’t know if I can handle all your shit,” Kris teased. 

“You bitch,” Carrie laughed with her.  “You got tons more shit than me, so don’t give me that.”  Kris sobered at her sister’s words, they hit too close to home.  Several seconds of silence ticked by as Carrie fitted her ear bud and slid her phone into her pocket.  She noticed the silence stretched longer than normal and that worried her. 

“Kris?  You okay,” Carrie asked.  She tucked her feet under her on the couch and pulled the blanket off the back to stay warm.  Mike was puttering around in the kitchen, so she knew she was safe from his pampering for a few moments.  Thank God.

 “Yeah,” Kris said slowly.  Something was definitely bugging her, that much was obvious. 

“I don’t know who the fuck you’re kidding, but it ain’t me so give it up, honey,” Carrie said quietly.  She heard Kris let out a sigh before she attempted to say anything.  She needed to get her thoughts organized before she shared them.  The consequences of her blurting out her worries were something she didn’t even want to contemplate.  Not again. 

“I’m just tired, Care.  This season, Dave’s shit, the kids going a million miles an hour.  Plus we’re going to the pediatrician weekly and that really puts a damper on trying to get anything done,” Kris’s voice held a plaintive whine to it.   

Carrie wasn’t buying it.  Not by a long shot.  Hell yes, she had all those things and more going, but none of that was new.  She’d seen her sister organize a friend’s wedding eight months pregnant, having time to do the flowers and chase the two kids around by herself because David was out of town.   

All she said to her sister was a quiet, “Hmmmm.”  No words yet, because she knew there was something else bugging Kris, something she was holding back.  Damn it, they needed some ice cream for this shit. 

“Mike?  Do we have any ice cream left,” She asked over her shoulder into the kitchen.  Mike’s answer was muffled to Kris on the phone, but his response made Carrie smile.

 “You don’t need that,” Kris started to protest. 

“Bullshit.  Besides, Mike found some chocolate chip mint.  I am not passing that up,” Carrie giggled.  Quicker than she would have given him credit, Mike appeared at her elbow with a small bowl full of the green goodness.   

“Thanks honey,” Carrie said quietly to her self appointed personal servant.  He smiled at her as he walked back into the kitchen.  Doing what, she had no idea, but he could spend an inordinate amount of time in there.  “What are you having,” she asked her sister. 

Kris had been busy digging out her own ice cream from the freezer. 

“Um, I think it’s going to be rocky road today.  The rest of the shit is the kids and I don’t want to face it.  It might bite back,” Kris chuckled as she scooped out her own bowl of sin. 

Carrie put a spoonful in her mouth, in part because the ice cream was tempting, but more to keep herself quiet so she wouldn’t jump all over Kris. 

“Okay, so tell me.  What’s bugging you,” Carrie asked slowly, knowing her sister had a mouthful.  Several seconds of silence met her as Kris finished her spoonful and gathered her wits. 

“It’s probably nothing,” she started with. 

“Yeah, whatever,” was her sister’s immediate reply.  Kris knew there’d be no harassment, she’d listen quietly to everything she had to say, if she could get started. 

“No, really.  I think maybe I’m just imagining things.  I know I haven’t been sleeping very well and you know how I get,” Kris started again.  No comment was the response to the obvious attempt at deflection.  Kris took a deep breath before she took the plunge. 

“It’s Dave, I think.  He’s been acting kinda weird recently,” was all Kris said.  Carrie’s silence disturbed Kris more than any outrage.  “Care?  You still there?” 

“Yeah, I’m here.  I’m thinking.  He’s been withdrawn for a while now, Kris.  Eddie’s passing hit him hard and he hasn’t given himself time to heal, I don’t think,” Carrie said quietly, spooning more green sin in to her mouth. 

“That might be some of it,” Kris admitted, knowing she hadn’t really told her sister her real worry.  But, it was true that Dave hadn’t really taken any time out for himself in the last month.  He’d filled his days with working long hours for the company, in spite of his injury.  Or maybe it was because of it, she wasn’t sure.  None of that explained his recent calls that made him immediately excuse himself or ignore the call altogether.  Dave rarely ignored his cell until now. 

“When do you guys get the results from your physicals back,” Carrie remembered to ask.  Once the theory came out about Eddie’s passing, Kris had immediately called, making appointments for both her and David to get complete physicals, even though David had one six months prior.  He’d agreed without hesitation, knowing they both needed that piece of mind.  

“Not for another couple of weeks, since everything seemed to have stopped for the holidays.  We both go in at the same time.  I figured it was easier that way,” Kris admitted.  It had been a strange experience, being hooked up to wires and an oxygen type mask, running her ass off on a treadmill with her husband undergoing the exact same thing next to her.  She was still smug about the fact that she had more stamina than him, but he countered with he had more bulk, flexing every time he said it.  It was a meaningless argument that neither took seriously.  After giving blood, they’d gone home and crashed for several hours.  The sooner the better, Kris thought.  The sooner they could get that out of the way, the easier she could rest about it.  She didn’t seriously expect anything to turn up, since they were both so health conscious, but Eddie’s passing had shaken them. 

“I’m sure the only thing that saved me from Mike dragging my ass in was being pregnant,” Carrie said, finishing off her ice cream. 

“What was that, babe,” Mike asked from the kitchen, thinking she’d asked him for something. 

“Nothing.  I’m fine,” Carrie told him. 

“He’s still doing that,” Kris asked, incredulously. 

“Constantly,” Carrie said with a sigh. 

“I warned you,” Kris teased. 

“I know.  But for some reason, he’s gotten worse.  Every time he comes back from a trip he gets a little crazy,” Carrie complained quietly. 

“You’re tummy is starting to show,” Kris giggled. 

“What?  You said it wasn’t,” Carrie gasped, mortified that she was looking like a waddling duck already.  Kris’s laughter carried through the line, calming Carrie down slightly. 

“I’m teasing, honey.  You’re still in your own clothes, right,” Kris asked. 

"Yeah, although some are getting a little tight.  Plus these damn bras are starting to piss me off,” Carrie growled, adjusting the cup on one that didn’t fit right anymore.  Her tits had an unfortunate habit of popping out of the top of them now, something she never had to worry about before. 

“I bet Mike likes that,” Kris teased unmercifully.  Carrie rolled her eyes at the thought. 

“Christ, that man has developed a thing for my tits, almost overnight.  I have to keep moving to bring his eyes back up to mine.”  At her sister’s admission, Kris laughed.  Her laughter at the thought of Carrie having to move around to get anyone’s eyes up made her unable to stop her giggles for a moment.  Maybe this pregnancy was going to be good for her in more ways than one. 

“Are you finished,” Carrie asked pointedly. 

“Yeah, sorry.  That’s too funny.”  Another giggle escaped.  “Sorry.  Yes.  I’m here now,” Kris said, stifling the last of her giggles.  She had to share this with Dave.  Did he already know?  Searching for something to laugh about with her sister, her glance fell on a recent catalog that had arrived for her in the mail. 

“Did you get the most recent catalog,” Kris asked, knowing her sister would know exactly which one she was referring to. 

“Oh hell yeah, I did,” Carrie squealed.  “I might have to buy something this time.” 

“Really?  Like what?  I liked some of their lotions from last time.  Dave liked them too,” Kris said, remembering exactly how much he’d liked them.  She shoved another spoonful of ice cream in to distract herself. 

“I don’t know.  You guys like those lotions and shit.  I might try some of those.  But there was a couple other things that intrigued me too,” Carrie shared with a wicked grin starting.  Kris snorted, she knew that tone and knew exactly the type of things her sister was referring to. 

“Yeah, some of those toys do look fun, don’t they.  The one I got from there a couple of years ago is still going strong,” Kris admitted. 

“You know, that just might be too much information,” Carrie giggled. 

“Oh bullshit,” Kris laughed.  “It’s not like I have my husband home every damn night.” 

“True.  Does he know about it,” Carrie asked without thinking. 

“Fuck yeah he does.  Sometimes he’s more eager to use it than me,” Kris laughed.  Carrie’s answering laughter was music to her sister’s ears.   

“Okay, no more!  That is definitely TMI,” Carrie laughed, wiping her eyes through her grin.  She glanced at the kitchen, suddenly realizing that it had gone quiet in there.   

“Did you see that monstrosity on page twenty nine,” Kris giggled.

“Oh my god, yeah.  What the fuck are you supposed to do with all those things anyway,” Carrie asked, giggling in spite of herself. 

“I don’t know, but you have to hope the instruction manual is in English, considering all those attachments,” Kris laughed. 

“Oh my god, can you just imagine?  Wait, it says here insert part A into part B.  Where’s B?  I can’t see how something that bulky would be fun,” Carrie giggled. 

“Don’t knock it until you try it,” Kris teased. 

“Shut up!  You do not have the orgasmatron 5000,” Carrie teased back.  A sudden crash from the kitchen drowned out her sister’s reply.  Loud mutterings accompanied the crash, making certain Carrie didn’t hear Kris.  “Kris?  I have to go.  I think Mike might have broken something in the kitchen.”  Laughter from her sister was the only response.  “You are evil.  I have to go for now.” 

“Poor Mike.  Wonder why he dropped something,” Kris giggled, knowing exactly what they had been talking about just before.  Her husband’s long time friend was a definite mixture of openness with some puritanical leanings thrown in.  He’d better get over those if he planned to survive with her sister. 

“Yeah, I wonder,” Carrie giggled.  “Talk to you later?  Call me if you want, I’m not going anywhere this weekend.  I got stuff to catch up on.” 

“Okay.  I will.  Be kind to him, Care.  He’s still learning,” Kris teased.  “Bye.” 

***

"Babe," she heard Mike say tentatively.  His voice carried down the hall into her office.  She closed the dialog box she had open on her computer and was just shutting it down when she heard Mike's strident call, "Carrie, can you come out here right now!"  

It was not a question and she was a little worried at what would cause Mike to sound so freaked out.  Had they won some silly sweepstakes or something?  Were there news cameras at their door?  What? All those possibilities and many more ran through her head as she quickly walked to the front door.  She saw Mike was standing with the door open letting in the winter. A cold finger of dread made her shiver, worrying who might be at her door.  Mike was blocking the doorway, effectively forcing her to step in front of him to see what all the fuss was about.  

"What the hell," she said quietly stepping around him to face whoever was at their front door. Her eyes lit up in recognition. "Mattie," she crowed, throwing her arms around the lanky teenager standing on her doorstep.  

"You know this guy," Mike asked, feeling redundant and a little foolish.  

"Of course, I've known this kid," she said and reached up to tousle his already mussed, too long hair, "since he was in diapers."  

The young man in question blushed at her words and said, “No Miss Carrie. Not diapers. I don’t think," was all he got out before Carrie started to giggle at him, knowing she'd got him again. "Shit," he said in embarrassment, knowing she had indeed zinged him again.  

"Come in, for shit's sake. What the hell are you doing standing outside anyway," Carrie asked, backing up.  

"Um, Babe," Mike ventured. "He has a creature with him."  

At Mike's words, Carrie noticed the pet carrier on their door step for the first time. It was a medium sized carrier, big enough for a medium sized dog, but she knew Mattie didn't have a dog.  

"So? Mattie always has a creature. Is this Portia that I've heard so much about," Carrie asked the suddenly shy teen. He gulped and nodded in silence. "Mike, can you grab his bag so Mattie can handle Portia."  

Carrie knew Mike didn't want to touch the carrier, not if his frantic request for her presence at the door was any indicator. She didn't know how Mike felt about reptiles, but she was about to find out.  

"Why the hell didn't you call and tell me? I got your emails, but you didn't say when," Carrie asked the redheaded teenager.  

"Um, it was kind of last minute. I had to..." was all he said as he followed Miss Carrie through the living area and down the hall. He was sandwiched between her and the man that opened the door. She'd told him via emails her boyfriend's name was Mike, but she didn't say he was a big guy too. Mattie had hoped to bully his way into keeping Portia with them for a few days or weeks, but that plan obviously wasn't going to work, looking at the scowling man. 

"It doesn't matter," Carrie said quickly, not wanting to make 'Taker's second son feel unwelcome. She had meant it when she told him a few weeks ago that she was willing to be his bolt hole for Portia if he needed one. She just didn't expect it so soon. She stopped in front of what was Mikie's room when he stayed, knowing that she has tentatively planned on keeping the reptile in the room if needed. She opened the door and ushered in her followers. 

"I think she should be fine in here. There's enough light for her, but I haven't had a chance to get the cage or anything else set up. Oh shit," she said as she looked around, suddenly realizing something, Mike thought. "I have to go to the store. We don't have any food for her, none. I can't have her stressed and not eating, that's just not good. No." Mike frowned at his girlfriend, unsure of her and what the hell she was talking about.  

"I have some of her heat lights in my bag," Mattie offered.  

Mike set the bag down and stepped away, in case something else was going to materialize. He was starting to get a very bad feeling about the animal in the pet carrier. He tried to think of anything other than scales and snakes and shit.  

"Okay, cool. That'll hold her until we can get to the store tomorrow. It's too late tonight, but I did order her enclosure so we can just pick it up tomorrow." Carrie nodded to herself as she shifted her morning's priorities tomorrow to include a visit to the local pet store specializing in herpetology. Thank god she'd already done her home work and purchased an enclosure for her. She knew that reptiles could get stressed easily and didn't want to have Mattie's beloved Portia die on her because she wasn't prepared. That would never do.  Tomorrow morning they'd go pick it up.  She just needed to let the store know.  She'd leave a message on their voice mail tonight.  Yeah, that'd work. 

Mattie was looking around the room, noting the game systems and TV, plus the shelves near the windows, thinking they might provide a decent place for his girl tonight.  

"Miss Carrie," Mattie asked.  

"Yes, Mattie," Carrie said scanning the room quickly.  

"Can we crank the heat for her," he asked, feeling more than a little intimidated by the large man standing behind her with what looked like a permanent scowl.  

"Of course," Miss Carrie said, walking to a small controller on the wall and pressing some buttons. Mike cleared his throat behind her as she returned to the doorway. She looked at him in surprise. She was surprised he was still hanging around the door, since he didn't seem too keen earlier.  

"Are we gonna get to see this beauty," Miss Carrie asked Mattie, smiling at the young man.  

"Wait a minute," Mike said quickly, wanting to head that off. He held up his hand, getting his point across to both of them. Carrie could tell he was stressed. If he was waving his hands about when he was talking, he was stressed. She looked at him without a hint of humor showing, knowing he'd hate to think she was laughing at him about this.  

"We can't just bring it, I mean her, out can we," Mike stumbled, waving his hands at the pet carrier and the room at large.  

"Um, maybe you're right," Carrie said. She was fine with giving him an escape instead of dealing with his first face to face meeting with a beautiful reptile. "She's probably stressed and just needs some warmth and some nice food to munch on. Mattie, why don't you get her comfortable for now and then we can go to the store and get some munchies for both of you," Carrie suggested.  

"Sounds good," Mattie said quietly.  He wasn't too sure of his reception if Mike's words were anything to go by.  But he had taken Miss Carrie at her word and he had to trust her, as he did so many years ago.  If she said it was okay, then it was okay, in spite of the big guy scowling. 

Mike frowned, turning away from the door without uttering another word. He wasn't sure if his voice would betray him and crack or something. He was freaking out, just thinking about something scaly being in their house and here was his girlfriend, talking about getting it some nice munchies. Next thing he'd know she'd probably tuck it in for the night and sing it lullabies or some shit. God, he hated snakes and shit. Just hated them and now he had one in his house. What the hell happened? How the hell did shit like this keep happening to him? He scrubbed his hands across his face as he leaned against the kitchen counter, knowing the answer to his question already. It was Carrie. Ever since he'd fallen in love with her, his life had taken one unexpected turn after another. And now? Shit, now he was gonna have a hell of a time just getting to sleep tonight. He wasn't sure how the hell he was going to be able to relax enough to put scaly images out of his head. Mike looked up as Carrie walked into the kitchen with a grin.  

"You don't have to see her. I was teasing you," Carrie said.  

Mike nodded, trying to smile at his girlfriend, knowing she could see through him. She reached up, tracing his worry lines on his forehead, smoothing them out with her soft fingers.  

"Sorry Babe, it's just," Mike shrugged. He was at a loss to explain his phobia.  

"It's okay. Not everyone likes dog or cats either. Don't feel bad. We just won't tell Portia.  She might get her feelings hurt," she finished with a wink. 

"Shit," was all Mike said as he grinned at her and shook his head. "Mattie is one of 'Taker's boys?"   

At Carrie's nod, Mike blew out his breath. Great, just great. Now he'd come across as an asshole to the kid and he didn't know how to fix it. That thought was quickly followed by the question of why the fuck did he care if one of 'Taker's boys thought he was an asshole?  Because he didn't want 'Taker to think he was an asshole, that's why.  The teenager in question tentatively stepped into the kitchen where the two adults had congregated. 

"She's settled," Carrie asked the teen.   

He nodded quickly, unsure of whether he had walked into an argument or not.  He'd been the spectator of too many of those recently and didn't relish the idea of stepping from the frying pan into the fire, especially not with Miss Carrie.  Carrie grimaced briefly, considering her words carefully. 

"As settled as she can be, anyway," she asked with a look to her proud owner and her unexpected house guest. 

"Yeah, she's fine for now," Mattie said. 

"Okay, let's go grab some food for both of you," Carrie said as she started towards the tray by the front door for her keys. 

"Hey, wait.  I'll drive," Mike offered, a little too eagerly.  Carrie turned to him in surprise, but quickly bit back any other snappy comment that was trying to escape.  All she did was nod at his offer, not letting him know that she knew he didn't want to be home alone with a creature as he called her.  "We'll take the truck," Mike said as they filed out in the garage.   

Mattie had stayed quiet during the exchange, a little too quiet for Carrie's liking.  She remembered him as a gregarious kid, full of energy, bouncing from one thing to the next without much slowing him down.  Carrie knew she'd ask him about it later, as well as the real story behind him showing up on her doorstep, unannounced.  That thought made her realize he probably had some people frantically worried about him. 

"Here," she said without any preamble, once they were seated in Mike's truck.  "Call your mother.  I'm sure she's worried."  Mike's brows rose but he kept his words to himself for once.  Mattie took the offered phone, but didn't open it or start dialing. 

"She's gonna be pissed," Mattie ventured. 

"Probably, but I'm sure she's worried," Carrie said as she tried to reason with the reluctant young man.  Mattie sat like a lump next to her as Mike pulled out of the garage.  "Okay, damn it.  You dial and I'll talk to her," Carrie said. 

"Really," Mattie asked, clearly relieved that he wasn't going to have to talk to his mother yet.  Miss Carrie was right, she was probably worried sick and he'd get an ass chewing from her, no doubt. 

"Yeah, I'd hate to be in her shoes and be worried sick," Carrie admitted.  Mike kept his thoughts to himself, but realized it was the first time Carrie referred to being a parent at all, even hypothetically. 

Carrie mentally took a deep breath, remembering most of her dealings with Carolyn from years ago.  They had started out rough, but by the end they had worked out their differences once Carolyn realized that Carrie wasn't trying to be a mother to her boys.  Mike drove the truck in silence, surprised in a way, but knew he shouldn't be at his girlfriend's action.  She was always willing to help others out, even to the detriment of herself sometimes.  This was something along those lines, but without any real detriment except his own sanity at having a creepy crawly in their home. 

Mattie dialed the number slowly, not in any big hurry to hear his mom yell at him across the miles.  He paused before he hit send, looking at Miss Carrie for a signal that she was ready and really did want to talk to his mom.  She nodded and held out her hand for the phone.  The phone was answered before the second ring, telling Carrie that Carolyn was sitting by the phone, waiting. 

"Hello," a southern Texas drawl said frantically. 

"Hi, Carolyn.  It's Carrie Martin," Carrie said.  Before she had a chance to say anything else, Carolyn interrupted her. 

"Carrie?  It's been a long time lady, a damn long time.  Look, I'd love to chat but I'm waiting on a call," Carolyn said quickly, losing some of her drawl. 

"That's why I'm calling, Carolyn.  You'll never guess who showed up on my doorstep a little while ago," Carrie said with a wink to the young man. 

"Matt," Carolyn squeaked.  "Oh dear God!  What in the blue hell is that boy doing all the way over there!  Is he okay?" 

"He's fine," Carrie said to the worried but relieved mother.  "Well, if you ignore his shaggy hair, he's fine," Carrie teased. 

"That damn boy!  I am gonna whip his ass when he gets home," Carolyn vented.  Carrie knew Carolyn well enough to know that she never raised a hand to her boys; she just needed to vent her relief. 

"He showed up a little while ago with Portia," was all Carrie got out before Carolyn interrupted her again. 

"That damn lizard is with him?  Oh honey, I'm sorry.  Sara warned him," Carolyn said quickly. 

"I see.  I thought it might be something like that," Carrie said as her eyes slid over to the reticent young man that was suddenly trying to disappear into the truck's upholstery.  Several seconds of quiet passed between the two as they both regrouped and thought of things they wanted to say. 

"He has school on Monday, right," Carrie asked his mother.  Carrie knew that he must have skipped school today to rescue his beloved pet from the clutches of the evil stepmother. 

"Yes and that boy will be going, no matter what he says," Carolyn said sternly. 

"Oh yeah, don't worry about that.  I'll put him on a plane to you Sunday afternoon."  Carrie heard Carolyn start to protest, but she interrupted her.  "I have to pick his brain about Portia's care.  I wouldn't want her dying on me, that's not right.  Tomorrow we're going to get all the supplies and I'll get a quick education and from there...well, we'll see.  But he'll be on a plane Sunday, don't worry.  I'll call you as soon as I see him board."  Carrie glanced at the young man in question, telling him in no uncertain terms she wasn't going to stand for any bullshit from him on Sunday.  He'd always been a good boy with her and they used to get along very well.  Mattie sighed and wilted in his seat at the inevitable ass chewing that would be coming his way once his mother got a hold of him.   

He tuned back into the conversation just in time to hear Miss Carrie say, "Of course.  Yeah, don't worry.  Okay, I'll talk to you Sunday, bye." 

"She was pissed, huh," Mattie asked quietly. 

"Of course, but do you blame her?  You take off without a word to anyone and then she gets a call from your school saying you'd missed classes."  Carrie turned her serious look at the young man, knowing he'd understand her gentle scold. 

"But, Sara said...Sara said Portia was going in the garbage, like a piece of trash," Mattie said vehemently.   

Mike raised his brows again, thanking god he didn't have to deal with this type of stuff for years to come.  He wasn't ready for it and he knew it.  The silence in the truck after Mattie's outburst was thick with tension, some real, but most imagined.  Mike slid the oversized truck into a parking spot at their local grocery store. 

"Who's Sara," he asked quietly.  Mattie's head snapped over to him in disbelief.

"She's...she's that bitch Dad married," Mattie said, sticking his chin out as he said it.  Mike blinked at the anger behind the young man's words.  Carrie stayed quiet.  She wanted to ensure Mattie knew he could speak his mind around her.  Jumping his ass for calling his step mother a bitch was not a wise move if she wanted to keep the lines of communication open.  

"So?  You ready to tell me what your girl needs or am I going to have to guess," Carrie asked as she gently nudged Mike to get out.  Mattie blinked in surprise, but quickly jumped out.  "Grab a cart, Mike.  We're gonna need it."  Mike detoured to pick up a cart and went in search of them in the produce department.  He arrived as they were debating the finer points of collard greens and spinach, all relating to moisture content and shit.  Mike had no idea what the fuss was about so he just shut up and leaned on the cart until his expertise was asked for.  Carrie stopped in mid sentence and reached for her phone in her hip pocket. 

"Great, just fucking great," she said quietly. 

"What is it, Babe," Mike asked as she slowly flipped her phone in her hands, clearly not wanting to answer it. 

"It's Dad, isn't it," Mattie spoke up.  Carrie nodded at him and opened the cell. 

"Hey," was all she said. 

"Let me talk to him," 'Taker growled. 

"No," Carrie said quietly. 

"God damn it, Min!  Put that boy on the fucking phone," he snarled. 

"No," Carrie said quietly again.   

Mike watched his girlfriend’s eyes unfocus and her breathing slow, telling him she was deliberately calming herself, in spite of whatever she was being subjected to over the phone.  He wondered if she would let him take the phone away from her and give the other man a piece of his mind.  That option was taken away as she closed her eyes slowly, pulling the phone away from her ear.  She met his eyes and closed the phone without saying another word.  Mattie blinked and felt himself pale, realizing that Miss Carrie had just hung up on his dad. 

"Oh shit," Mattie said quietly.  He didn't even want to think about how pissed his dad was now.  Nobody hung up on him, ever. 

"He's was being an ass, and I didn't want to hear it.  You didn't need to be subjected to it either.  By the time he gets here, he'll realize that too," Carrie said quietly to the stunned teenager.  She had passed into hero status as far as he was concerned.  She had hung up on his dad, he repeated to himself. 

"What do you mean by the time he gets here," Mike asked.  Carrie turned, smiling at the worry betrayed in Mike’s voice. 

"He's pissed, real pissed.  And I just pissed him off even more by hanging up on him.  He'll be catching the first flight from Wisconsin after he's done tonight.  He'll be at the door before morning, you watch," Carrie told the stunned man. 

"Um, honey?  Do you think it was wise of you to piss him off that much," Mike asked.  In his mind he'd already jumped to the part about the Undertaker picking him up by the throat and hurling him across the room. 

"No, but he was being an ass and needed to be reminded of it," Carrie said simply, turning back to the still stunned teenager and picking up their thread of conversation as it related to collard greens and spinach. 

"Don't you think he'll call back," Mike asked the top of her head. 

"He already has if the vibrating of my cell is anything to go by," Carrie said with a small shrug.  Mike stared at her for several seconds, knowing his girlfriend must have a death wish or something.  "Don't worry about it.  He'll be here in the morning and we can talk like adults then." 

Mike walked away from the pair shaking his head.  First a snake or something lands on his doorstep, and then she deliberately provokes the Undertaker enough to where he was going to be spitting mad and on his doorstep in just a few hours.  God, he needed a vacation.  Somewhere where no one knew him, somewhere he could relax and drink himself stupid every night.  He scrubbed his face with his hands, knowing that wasn't going to happen anytime soon.  First they had to concentrate on their babies and making sure everything was going well there.  Speaking of that. 

"When's your next appointment, Babe?  I wanna make sure I can come this time," Mike said.  Mattie stopped in mid sentence and looked at Miss Carrie with worry. 

"Are you sick," Mattie asked.  Carrie shook her head, winking at the gangly teen. 

"No more than normal, no.  I'm pregnant," she said into his stunned green eyes. 

"But....but I thought," Mattie said and stopped, unsure of himself again. 

"Yeah, well, it seems like the doctors don't know what the hell they're talking about again, because I'm going to have babies in the spring."  Without warning, the lanky teenager let out a war whoop and hugged his favorite almost step mom.  Mike looked on in confusion, again. 

"Honey, I can't breathe," Carrie said to the teen that had her in a death clutch.  He instantly released his hold on her. 

"Sorry Miss Carrie.  I get carried away sometimes.  Are you okay," he asked, with sad repentant eyes.  Carrie was reminded of a puppy that had just peed on the favorite carpet as she looked into his remorseful green eyes. 

"I'm fine, honey.  Just pregnant.  It's not a disease and there is a cure, eventually," she joked, knowing Mattie used to have a goofy sense of humor.  Mattie seemed to regain his wits and looked at Mike with his eyes wide.   

"You're the...I mean you and her...Um, congratulations," he managed to finally mumble.  Mike smiled at the teen, remembering his own awkwardness as that age. 

"Thanks.  We're pretty excited since it wasn't supposed to happen and no matter what she says, she's not always fine.  She tends to overdo it sometimes," Mike directed a quick scolding look at her.  Carrie rolled her eyes, hoping he was going to give the over protectiveness a rest   

At Mike's words, Mattie looked Carrie over from head to toe, expecting to see some obvious flaw jump out at him.  Both Mike and Carrie managed to hide their grins at the teen's obvious inspection. 

"Miss Carrie," Mattie asked.  Something had occurred to the young man during their conversation. 

"Yes, honey," Miss Carrie said, almost absently.   

"We need to get gloves for you for Portia, just to be safe," Mattie reminded her seriously.  Carrie nodded, she had remembered and it was on her mental list of items to get tonight. 

"Can I ask why," Mike asked both of them since they seemed to have selected both of the disputed greens and moved on without a backward glance his way.  Two sets of green eyes turned to him at his words.  He blinked at the strangeness of that.  He didn't normally see anyone besides Carrie & Wease with green eyes, but Mattie's were definitely green too.  He was unaware that he had been frowning as the thoughts flitted through his mind. 

"It's not a huge deal, Mike.  Nothing to worry about," Carrie said quickly, noticing his brow wrinkled up in his customary worry frown.  He nodded and his brow smoothed out.  "It's just a safety issue because Portia is a reptile and I'm pregnant.  I'm sure she's fine and I'll be careful but it's just better to be safe than sorry." 

"Wait a minute, Babe," Mike said as he held out his hand.  His voice had risen again to match his agitation.  "Um, should we even have um ...her?"  Mike shifted his glare to the young man that had appeared on their doorstep, adding more complications to his already complicated life.  She noticed Mike shift his irritation to Mattie and knew she needed to stop that shit right away.  She stepped up to the big man and touched his hand.  She tugged on it, pulling his attention away from the teen. 

"Mike, can I have a word with you," Carrie said in her quiet voice - a voice Mattie remembered from his youth.  He tried to hide his grin at Mike being subjected to it.  "Mattie, go snag some food for yourself for the next two days.  We'll catch up," Carrie directed to the teen.  He nodded and walked away pushing the cart, thankful he wasn't being subjected to Miss Carrie's discussion. 

Carrie waited until the teen turned up the next aisle before she turned back to the large man scowling at her. 

"We are not going to fuck this young man over any more than somebody already has. Portia is staying, in spite of what you say so you better get used to the idea."  Mike blinked at her words; he'd rarely heard her be so rigid on any subject before.  The scariest part for him was she never raised her voice.  In fact, she had a small smile on her face and it would look to any passersby that they were having a polite conversation in the produce section.   

"There are risks, yes, but there are risks in everything we do.  Every time I go out in public, I am subjected to germs," Carrie reminded the big man quietly.  He frowned, he'd never thought of it that way before. 

"Babe, maybe you should stay home," he cautioned. 

"Don't be ridiculous.  Me and the babies are fine.  If I get a cold, so be it.  It'll pass.  I am not made of glass and I'm pretty sure I'll manage to have healthy babies in spite of us.  Women have been having babies for eons, without all the medical contraptions of today."  Carrie was on a roll and irritated at Mike's attitude, so she took her discussion a little further a field.

Mike stood in front of the diminutive woman he loved, in awe of her.  How she managed to scold him without raising her voice, without letting anyone else know they might be having an argument and without giving him a chance to refute anything, he didn't know but it was definitely a skill. 

She continued with, "Mike, there is more going on with Mattie than this.  I know this boy.  How he is today isn't the boy I know.  He's got some shit he's holding in.  I will not yank his safety net out from under him.  I remember what it's like to have a parent dismiss a beloved pet’s importance with no more thought than a blink of an eye.  He needs us, he needs the security of us," Carrie said quietly.  Mike finally took a deep breath and let it out slowly, letting all of her words sink in.  He scraped his hands over his face before he said a word. 

"Okay, okay she can stay," Mike said with ill grace. 

"Damn right she can," Carrie said quickly.  Mike's eyes narrowed at her response.  "I'm not asking you, I'm just giving you the courtesy of an explanation," she clarified.   

He frowned again at her words.  Up until that moment, he was under the impression that he was the one in charge in their relationship.  He was the one that wore the metaphoric pants.  Sure there were give and takes, but generally he thought he was running the show.  Her sweet smile and scolding in the produce section told him how wrong he was.  He was not the one in charge, never had been, and never would be.  He didn't care that the burden wasn't his and had never been his, but it was a shock to realize that after months of thinking he was in the driver's seat was only because she let him believe it.  Those thoughts led him to the realization that she had always been in control, since day one.  She had dictated the pace of their relationship from day one.  As he was still muddling through all his jumbled feelings about that, he heard her sigh next to him, forcing him to shelve his introspection for now. 

"If you're that worried, then you better pay attention tomorrow as Mattie walks me through so you can help," Carrie said.  She'd watched his frown deepen in the ensuing silence of her previous declaration and assumed he was brooding still on having an unsafe reptile in the house.  Mike finally surfaced enough out of his daze to scrub his hands over his face again and let her last words sink in. 

"What?  You're fucking kidding, right," he asked his girlfriend.  She didn't look any different to him, now that he knew she was in charge.  Did he really expect her to?  She barely managed to stop herself from rolling her eyes at him because she wanted to get her point across before she sprinted off to the bathroom. 

"No, I'm not kidding.  If you're really worried about Portia, then pitch in and help.  All you have to do is help with the feedings," she said, deliberately leaving out the cleaning part of the equation.  He blinked at her in surprise.  Before he had a chance to say anything else, Carrie jumped in with, "The lights, heat and mist and shit will all be on timers so we shouldn't have to mess with that too much."  He nodded, considering the thought of helping feed a creepy crawly.  "Be right back," was all Carrie said as she sprinted away in the general direction of the bathrooms. 

He must be fucking insane, going against everything in his being and try to help with the creepy thing.  Portia, he reminded himself.  Don't think of it as a thing and maybe it'll be better.  Portia?  Who the fuck names their creepies after Shakespeare?  He was still muddling through that as he stumbled on their house guest in the chips isle.  He grinned at the loaded cart, full of junk food that neither he nor Carrie ate.  He was guessing that Mattie didn't get to eat it much either. 

"You get all you need," Mike asked with a grin to the teenager.  Mattie glanced at the cart seriously then looked at Mike and nodded without a word.  Mattie recognized that the man in front of him had just been scolded; he had that vaguely contrite and confused air about him that Mattie recognized as Miss Carrie's work.  His dad used to look like that a lot, a long time ago. 

"Is she okay," Mattie finally blurted out as they were making their way to the checkouts with the over flowing cart.  Mike drew a deep breath, mindful of Carrie's words earlier and her belief that some shit was going on with the lanky kid next to him. 

"Yeah, she's fine.  She still eats weird shit, still doesn't sleep much and still likes to chew my ass," Mike chuckled as he grinned at the teen.  Mattie cracked a smile at the man, slowly trying to shove his jealousy aside.  He knew it was stupid of him to be jealous of Miss Carrie being with anyone besides his dad, but he couldn't get over it yet.  Mike seemed like a nice guy and Miss Carrie seemed like she was happy, so he knew he better just get used to it.  Mike noticed Mattie looking around, possibly trying to find Carrie, he wasn't sure. 

"She has to run to the bathroom all the damn time.  It's a pregnant lady thing, don't worry," Mike said.  All other intimate conversation was cut off as they reached the conveyor and the checker.  Mike silently loaded all the junk food; chips, pop and some other weird shit he'd never heard of without comment, waiting for the total. 

Carrie met up with them as they were finishing up loading the last of their bags into the cart, ready to go back out to the truck. 

"Honey, I think we have finally found someone who can out eat Wease," Mike teased.  Carrie smiled at Mike and his tease, knowing he appeared to have gotten over his irritation with Mattie.  Mattie's head snapped up at the older man's words.  He remembered Wease, but it hadn't occurred to him that Mike would know him.  Mike was rewarded by a smile from the teen as he helped load the many bags of groceries in to the back of the truck.  Lord help them when their boys were teens, they'd be going to the grocery store every damn day, if Mattie's appetite was any indication. 

“He’s gonna have to come over and see Portia, Mattie.  He won’t be able to stand it,” Carrie told the teen.  Mattie nodded, glad that he was going to get to see Mister Wes too.  He hadn’t counted on that. 

“Is he close,” Mattie asked. 

“Oh yeah, same complex.  I’ll call him tomorrow and see what he’s doing,” Carrie said, knowing Wease and Mattie had been friends years ago. 

Once they were back on the road home, Carrie broke the silence with, "Mike, just drop me and the groceries off.  You two go grab a bite."  As Mike started to say something, Carrie waved him quiet and explained.  "I can hear Mattie's tummy growling over the truck noise."  She giggled at the suddenly embarrassed teen.  Mike nodded slowly and stayed quiet.  She'd just given him a golden opportunity to get to know the kid better.  Damn it, she'd probably done it on purpose. 

Carrie was able to finally sit down, after unloading all the groceries.  What a day, she mused.  Thank god she was able to get her point across to Mike without having to bully him even more.  She chuckled quietly as she recalled his face at her words about the fact that Portia was staying, regardless.  He had been speechless for a few seconds and for him, that was rare.  Thinking about being speechless led her thoughts to Old Man and his words and anger over the phone earlier.  He really was pissed, mostly pissed because he’d been so damn worried, she’d wager.  But he’d blistered her ear with some of it and she had dealt with him the same way she always had when he got ridiculous.  She’d cut him off so he could cool down and remember that he was an adult or at least that’s what his driver’s license read.  She was betting he’d snag a flight and be at her house before 5 am.  Guaranteed.  Then they’d see if he was still an adult.  She wasn’t about to stand by and watch him castigate his son, not if she had anything to do about it.  Talk to him, scold him yes, but rip into him like there was no tomorrow and he’d just been listed on the ten most wanted list?  No way, not gonna happen.  Not if she had anything to do with it. 

***

Carrie eased out of Mike’s arms and lifted the cover to slide out, without waking him, hopefully.  She was getting better at it, in part because she was jumping up too many times to count for a dash to the bathroom.  This time was not a bathroom dash.  This was her body telling her she was done sleeping for now.  She raked her hair, and was reminded at how quickly it was growing.  Kris told her it was probably the prenatal vitamins, but it was still strange.  She’d given up putting a hair clip in while at home, it was just too much of a pain in her ass and Mike didn’t seem to care anyway.  She rummaged around in the darkened room for some clothes to slide on that were respectable enough for their teen house guest and their soon to be arriving guest.  Finally finding some stretchy yoga pants and one of her favorite oversized t shirts that read, you say bitch like it’s a bad thing; she went downstairs to wait for Old Man. 

She flipped on the light in the kitchen, glancing at the clock.  Yeah, he’d be here soon, if she remembered the airline schedules correctly.  It was the first time he’d ever been to her condo, but he had the address.  She’d given it to him months ago, just in case.  It would be strange.  Strange having him in her condo, after all these years and the mistakes of their past behind them.  Or so she hoped.  Hoped like hell really.  The noise from the electric kettle boiling and clicking off brought her attention back to the here and now.  She really had drifted for a second there.  She needed to put all that shit behind her, for both of their sakes as well as the other people in their lives that could be affected. 

Sighing at herself and her childishness, she took her hot decaffeinated black tea to the couch.  A tea that John’s mom had introduced to her and for that she was grateful.  Setting it on the table in front of her, she grabbed her portable and the blanket.  Once she had the blanket wrapped around her to keep her feet warm, she clicked on her portable so she could catch up on some business correspondence.   

David’s injury had forced her off the road earlier than what either of them had planned, but it turned out to be a blessing in disguise for her.  It gave her a chance to get her fingers back into the day to day workings of her business.  She made a plan years ago and the time was rapidly approaching for that plan.  Now she had the leisure to make sure she met her target date.  Mike was constantly finding her with her nose buried in some fat stack of papers and he never asked.  He never asked what she was reading or if he could help in any way.  If all went according to plan, he’d be helping soon enough; he just didn’t know it yet. 

There were still a few dates penciled in that she would be on the road with David, but that was only because of the venue and some screwy shit the office was doing, since he wasn’t doing house shows currently.  Not doing house shows must be WWE code for let’s ride this big dog all over hell’s half acre since he has so much spare time on his hands.  David had instantly become the mouth and show piece of WWE.  He went where ever they asked, to help promote upcoming shows, DVD release, games and anything else the marketing machine at Stamford could think of.  He was too hot of a property to not use and she understood their reasons, but she also knew how tiring it was.  It was more tiring than getting tossed around the ring every night and David was starting to show the strain.  Several times a day he either called or text’d her with a request for some help with his ever changing schedule.  Some of the shit that they booked for him was just ridiculous.  It was like they’d forgotten that you can’t be on two sides of the continent at once, no matter how much you want it.  She’d had to call Stamford to remind them of the fact several times.  Each time it seemed to be a surprise to the folks in marketing.  It truly hadn’t dawned on them it seemed.  Next time, she was skipping all the peons and doing what she wanted to initially and calling Shane.  David had asked to not to, but things were just getting sillier by the day.  Be in Palm Springs in the early morning, Tampa mid day and back to the west coast and Phoenix for the evening.  Just stupid and poor planning from her perspective.  He wasn’t getting much rest to help heal and rehab, of that she was sure. 

Her schedule tampering was interrupted by a quiet knock at her front door.  She flicked her eyes to the large entryway clock and smiled.  Right on time, as always.  She set her shit aside, knowing she didn't have to tidy up for him and went to answer the door.  She peeked out quickly to make sure it was him and opened it with as stern as face as she could muster. 

'Taker had just raised his hand again to tap quietly when the door swung open, startling him.  He knew he shouldn't be, knowing her, but it was still a shock. 

"Did you come here so we could fight some more," she asked, keeping her tone stern and biting the inside of her lip at his embarrassed expression her words evoked.  He stepped in and flipped off his hat with one hand and set his bags down with the other before attempting to smooth over the damage his hasty words had inflicted. 

"No," he rumbled quietly, raising his eyes slowly.  His left eye twitched as he read her shirt, thinking she was loaded and ready for a fight.  She let him stand in the silence for a few heartbeats, letting him think the worst. 

"I ought to kick your ass, you son of a bitch for even daring to show your face here after that shit on the phone," she said quietly.  Just a little more, she thought. 

He swallowed as he considered his next words.  He did not want another woman in his life pissed at him.  One was enough thank you. 

"Min...Carrie, I'm sorry.  I got a little carried away.  I didn't mean the things I said to you," he said quietly as his eyes pleaded for understanding from the one woman in the world that he still held in his heart.  Carrie tried to keep her expression neutral but knew she couldn't when he called her by her own name.  That meant he really was sorry and thought he was in deep shit with her.   

"C'mere you big bastard," she said as she held her arms up to wrap them around his neck.  He immediately bent so she could reach.  He blew out his breath in relief and returned her embrace. 

"Min, I'm sorry for being an asshole," he said into her hair.  She unwrapped her arms so she could stand on her own feet. 

"I thought maybe you'd mellowed, but no," she said, turning away to hide her grin.  Too late, she realized, hearing his quiet chuckle behind her. 

"Did you really think I would?  Honey, you know me too well.  You knew I'd be here," he said.  It wasn't a question, although it could've been.  She nodded and stepped into the main part of the downstairs, letting him stand up fully and look around.  She watched him catalog the downstairs with just a few sweeping looks.  He looked up and smiled. 

"You always did like high ceilings," he said in regards to the several feet of space between his head and the ceiling.  He followed her into the kitchen, content to see what she had planned.  He was still a little off balance from the fact that she hadn't jumped his ass as soon as she opened the door.  Hell, he had worried that she wouldn't open the door to him at all.  He wasn't sure if he would've if she'd blasted him as thoroughly. 

"Did you get anything to eat," she asked as she stuck her head in the fridge.  He blinked at the view.  One, her head in the fridge and two, her backside was always going to be a view he enjoyed. 

"A little.  Whatcha offering," he asked her, unable to shake the incongruity of her offering him something to eat.  She sensed his tentative response and guessed the reason. 

"Don't worry.  I didn't cook it.  The world has not ended.  Mike always has food in the fridge for food emergencies, as he calls them."  At her explanation, 'Taker nodded.  It made sense to him.  "Here, you look.  You're welcome to whatever grabs you," she said as she backed away.  Her not so iron clad control was threatening to slip and she needed to put some distance between them. 

After 'Taker decided on a large portion of left over lasagna, she grabbed a beer for him and a water for her as he popped the goodie in the microwave.  He leaned against the counter as cutlery was passed to him, unasked. 

"Thanks," was all he said, preferring to concentrate on his morning feast.  Inside he was thinking that Mike was a fucking excellent cook.  He hadn't had lasagna this good since his mother's, years ago.  Carrie stepped away from him as he devoured Mike's lasagna.  She debated on whether she should tell him it was vegetarian.  Nah, why spoil it for him? 

"Your boyfriend is a fucking great cook," he said quietly as he set the empty plate in the sink and walked back to her on the couch.  Inwardly, she winced at hearing Mike called her boyfriend.  Not because of who said it surprisingly, but because it sounded so damn childish and high school-ish to her. 

"Thanks," she said, crinkling her nose at him as she grinned. 

"What?  He's not your boyfriend," 'Taker teased.  He sensed unease from her as soon as the words left his mouth.  Instantly, his pulse quickened at the prospect.  Down boy, he told himself sternly.  Let the woman speak and stop being such a moron.  His eyes strayed to her long curls, distracting him for anything she might have just said.  

"Yes.  No," she said as she raked her hair.  She blew her hair away from her face before she tried to explain.  "I just don't normally call him that.  It sounds so," she waved her hands in the air searching for the right term.  'Taker wasn't about to help her out, he wanted her to explain exactly what she meant.  "So baby-ish," she said finally. 

"What do you call him," 'Taker asked quietly. 

"Mike," she said simply.  'Taker stayed silent, letting it stretch as he mulled over her response and what she didn’t say.  He didn't worry about a reply; he knew she was fine with his silence.  She'd always been fine with his quiet nature, unlike other ladies in his life.  She didn't find it oppressive or uncomfortable or demand to know what he was thinking at that exact second.  Shit, he was an asshole for some of his more dubious choices in his life and he knew it.  He hadn't been fair to any of them - any of his wives.  That brought him back to his original reason for dragging his ass all the way out here. 

"Where is he," he finally asked. 

"Sleeping and you're not gonna wake him up just to yell at him," she warned him with her eyes instantly flashing dangerously.  He smiled. 

"You win, honey," 'Taker teased.  As long as he was safe that was all he cared about anyway.  He'd come to that realization an hour into the flight as he calmed down.  He also realized he was relieved that Matt had run to Min.  She'd keep him safe and she wouldn't turn him away, something he wasn't sure of with any of his step mothers. 

"You get any sleep," she asked after many minutes of companionable silence.  He shook his head.  "You working tonight," she asked.  He shook his head again. Her brows rose, but she stayed quiet.  He must have made a call to McMahon Senior, probably saying he had a family emergency.  Vince was a softy for a sappy story and he knew that Old Man was not one to beg off on a whim.  

A sound at the top of the stairs brought both sets of eyes to the man scrubbing his face as he stumbled down the steps in to the living area wearing nothing but a pair of baggy sweats.  Mike licked his lips, trying to get enough spit to sound coherent.  He frowned at seeing 'Taker sitting on the couch, looking for all intents and purposes, extremely calm and civilized.  Where was the spitting mad raving lunatic he'd expected? 

"Did we wake you," Carrie asked as she watched him slowly regain his faculties.  He just wasn't good rolling out of bed.  He was someone who should lay there for as long as it took for coherent thought to materialize.  'Taker's lips quirked up at the obviously barely awake man in front of him. 

"Nah," was all Mike said as he staggered past them into the kitchen.  The two on the couch shared a smile at the other man's state and remained silent as they listened to Mike rattle around in the kitchen.  The ding of the microwave timer told them of his success. 

More to fill the silence than anything else, 'Taker said, "I see you still have my couch." 

"Yeah, it is comfy.  But it's so damn big," Carrie admitted calmly. 

"It's why we bought it, remember," he reminded her.  She smiled at him and nodded at the memory.  The sleepy man staggered back out of the kitchen with coffee mug in hand, looking first at the couch then at the man sitting on it with his legs stretched out in front of him.  'Taker hid his grin at Mike's frown.  Carrie was lost in her own thoughts, so she missed the quick byplay between the two men. 

"I still fall asleep on it fairly regularly," she admitted.  'Taker shook his head at her and flashed a smile at Mike.  He was drinking his instant coffee and waiting for his brain to catch up with the fact that he was upright at 5 am.  

"You haven't managed to break her of that bad habit," 'Taker teased the other man.  Mike's brows rose at the thought of breaking Carrie of any habit.  She was the most stubborn woman he knew, and he loved her because of it. 

"No.  Sometimes I think she sleeps out here so she can be all scrunched up," Mike said quietly.  Carrie looked over at him with a mutinous glare.  He assumed a blank expression in response.  'Taker's chuckle brought them back to the present. 

"Some things never fucking change," he laughed.  "And you, my sweet, are one of them."  He leaned over and kissed her forehead, knowing Mike wouldn't be offended by it. 

"What a thing to say," she teased.  Mike upended his cup, emptying the last dregs.  'Taker was surprised at the speed the man downed his scalding coffee.  Mike stood up with empty cup in hand, intent of refilling it.  "Don't even ask.  The man has a cast iron stomach, I swear," Carrie said in response to Mike's actions and 'Taker's confusion.

"What the fuck," Mike shouted from the kitchen.  Carrie jumped up at the outburst, intent on reminding him they still had someone sleeping.  'Taker followed behind her, curious about the cause of the outburst from the now wide awake man.  He was treated to the sight of Mike pointing at his empty casserole dish and dirty plate. 

"Jesus Christ, that boy can eat," Mike said.  "I thought he ate enough for a small family at dinner, but God damn!"  Mike shook his head. 

"That was me, buddy.  Sorry if you needed it for something.  Carrie said I could help myself," 'Taker said quietly.  Mike's head popped up at the big man's words.  Carrie watched as Mike lips clamped shut on any other tirade about the teen’s hollow leg.   

"Oh, no.  That's okay," Mike waved at the empty dishes.  "I just thought Mattie had inhaled some more food.  Damn, that boy can eat!"  The proud dad agreed that his son could indeed eat.  A thought occurred to Mike.  "Did you tell him," he asked Carrie. 

"Um, no.  I didn't want to ruin his meal," she explained.  'Taker frowned. 

"Tell me what," he said as he started to get an uneasy feeling.  Did he just eat buffalo, or some other exotic range animal? 

"First, what did you think of it," Mike asked as he slid his fingers around his steaming mug.

"That was the best fucking lasagna I have had in years," 'Taker admitted.  He had no qualms about complimenting the cook, even though he seemed to be fishing for it.  Mike nodded in acceptance just before a wicked grin crossed his stubbled cheeks. 

"It was vegetarian," he said with glee. 

"What?  No fucking way," 'Taker said as he glanced between the two.  Mike nodded as he continued to grin and Min just smiled at his surprise.  'Taker shook his head in disbelief and defeat.  "Son of a bitch, Min.  You finally got me," he admitted. 

"I didn't.  Mike did.  It's his lasagna," she reminded the large man.  Mike was grinning, knowing that they had just tricked a man who said he would never be able to eat any damned vegetarian meal.  At least that was what Carrie had told him months ago. 

"Yeah, well. You both got me.  Shit," he said as he slid his hair out of the band that had been keeping it back.  "I am too old for this shit." 

"Maybe.  But maybe you're just tired," Carrie asked by way of an olive branch to his bruised ego. 

"Yeah, I am.  You got any extra beds in this place."  'Taker glanced around and zeroed in on the hallway, guessing there were more rooms down there.  Carrie blinked as she realized that the room that Liz used was still in a state of upheaval.  Liz, Carrie and Kris were redecorating it and shit was spread out everywhere in the room.  Definitely unusable. 

"Um, shit.  No, not really.  I think you're too big for the baby room.  I know you're too big for the crib," she teased. 

"This couch and me, we go way back.  I bet I can sleep on it.  It'll be just like old times.  You can even call me names to make me feel all nostalgic," 'Taker teased.  Carrie spluttered in outrage at the large man and his teasing.  Mike smirked at seeing his girlfriend rendered speechless. 

"He can sleep in our bed, Babe," Mike offered quietly.  Two sets of green eyes looked at him.  He blinked at the strangeness of it, but managed to nod slowly. 

"You sure?  You done sleeping," 'Taker asked the other man.   

Mike nodded as he rubbed his hand over his hair, creating several hair spikes in the process unknowingly.  'Taker flicked his glance over to the small woman next to him.  She shrugged and jumped up.  The thought had occurred to her that she needed to change the sheets and make the bed and make sure shit wasn't horribly messy upstairs.  She knew he wouldn't care, neither of them would, but she did. 

Both men watched Carrie jump up and flee upstairs without a word.  They shared a confused look.  'Taker sighed and pried his ass off his favorite couch.  He detoured back to the entryway for his bags, wandering up the stairs that Min had so recently disappeared through.  Mike watched all in silence for a second, debating on the finer points of another cup of coffee first.  Coffee won out and he made another instant coffee first, and then followed upstairs to see what had prompted Carrie to leave so abruptly. 

The scene that greeted him as he pushed open the door with his foot was 'Taker standing off to the side of the bed, with a set of clean sheets in hand trying to talk some sense into his girlfriend.  Good luck, he thought privately as he tuned in. 

"Honey, I don't give a fuck.  I'm too tired and you shouldn't give a shit either.  Change them after I get some sleep.  Really," 'Taker said as he gently set the sheets down on one of the small chairs by the window.  His eyes widened as he took in the size of the room.  Mike recognized that the man had just realized how big the room actually was. 

"You sure," Carrie said.  She thought it was kind of gross he'd be willing to sleep in sheets someone else had already slept in.  Looking up into his eyes, she saw how tired he was.  How bone weary, dead ass tired he was and how much he'd been hiding it from everyone.  Stupid, she thought to herself, but she understood why he didn't give a shit this morning.  He just needed some sleep.  That might also explain some of his tirade earlier. 

'Taker smiled at her and nodded.  He sat down on the bed in question, ending all discussions about it.  He kicked off his boots, and stood back up, undoing his belt as he did so.   

"Before you get too comfy, let me show you some shit," Carrie said.  The sooner he could get some sleep, the happier she'd be and the less guilty she'd feel for him dragging his ass all the way here at her provocation.  She walked into the bathroom, knowing that she was being followed by two men.  One right on her heels and the other with cup still in hand.  She proceeded to show him where the towels were kept, where to put his dirty towels and how the shower worked. 

'Taker absorbed all of her info in silence, recognizing that she had slipped into her mother hen role with him again for some reason.  He was too damned tired to figure out why right now, but he was glad for her help and concern. 

"You're not gonna be upset if I come up here and take a shower in a while, are you," Mike asked from the doorway.  'Taker got a quick headshake in before Min interrupted him. 

"Honey, once he's out, he's out.  A brass marching band could stroll through and he wouldn't hear it," Carrie said with a smirk.   

"What the fuck," 'Taker demanded with a grin.  Mike hid his grin behind his mug and nodded, knowing that was the safest course. 

"I doubt you've changed that much.  Next thing you'll tell me is that you don't snore," Carrie teased. 

"I do not snore," 'Taker said dutifully.  Carrie giggled and walked away, not bothering to even rise to that ridiculous claim. 

*** 

Mike was opening his drawers with a frown, searching for an item.  He closed the top drawer and opened the one below, thinking maybe he put them in the wrong drawer or something.  There were times recently that he'd been mighty distracted, he thought with a grimace.  Damn, it, he groused, slipping off his towel.  He grabbed a pair of clean jeans and slid them on.  He raked his fingers through his growing hair as he fussed about what shirt to pull on.  Knowing that today was supposed to be a quiet hang around the house day, he grabbed a sweatshirt to thrown on over his vest. 

After he grabbed his socks, he was still trying to figure out where he'd stuffed some clothing.  He knew damn well he'd put them in the hamper a few days ago.  From there, he didn't remember a thing.  That wasn't too surprising since he and Carrie tended to share the laundry duties. 

'Taker looked up from the couch at the slightly confused face of the man descending the stairs.  He made sure to keep his grin hidden, knowing that the other man wouldn't appreciate it, even though he knew Min tended to have that effect on most people. 

"Everything okay," 'Taker asked as he levered his ass off the too comfy couch.  He was intent on getting some more coffee.  Mike waited until 'Taker was in the kitchen with him before he answered. 

"Yeah, I'm just losing my fucking mind, that's all," he admitted with a scowl as he walked into the pantry.  'Taker was damn proud of himself for biting back on his instant retort.  He'd wait until the other man told him more.  "God damn it," Mike shouted from the pantry/laundry room.  "I know they're fucking here somewhere!" 

"Need any help," 'Taker asked the cranky man as he helped himself to another cup of strong coffee. 

"Fuck," Mike said as he stepped back out into the kitchen, rubbing his hands over his face in frustration.  He saw 'Taker's cup and thought that might help him wake up enough.  'Taker lifted a brow at the other man's actions but stayed quiet.  He knew from long years of practice, silence was usually rewarded, if he was patient enough. 

"I swear I am losing my fucking mind," Mike said with a head shake.  'Taker kept his grin well hidden, even though it was busting to make itself known.  He stroked his mustache to keep it from escaping. 

"Something I can help you with," 'Taker asked.  He grabbed his cup and brought it to his lips to hide behind. 

"I fucking doubt it.  I fucking swear I have some god damned underwear in this place.  Can I find any?  Oh hell no.  The god damned dryer fairy has eaten every single pair," Mike said in disgust.  He mumbled as he walked back to the dryer and the clean clothes folded in the basket beside it. 

'Taker almost busted out laughing at the other man, but he was certain the other man wouldn't find it funny, yet. 

"You notice them missing all at once or..." 'Taker left off as he watched the other man fling dirty clothes around the small laundry room in his frenzy to find the missing items.  'Taker was fairly sure he knew what happened to them, or more accurately who happened to them.  The who was probably in the shower right now, upstairs. 

"Um," Mike muttered as he lifted his head to look at the other man.  It was obvious to 'Taker that the thought never occurred to Mike before. 

"Were they new or old or," 'Taker prodded the other man, trying to get him to figure it out. 

"Shit, most of them were old and comfy.  God damn it, it's why I'm so pissed.  I know I had them here somewhere.  I brought them over with the rest of my clothes, I'm sure of it," Mike stated emphatically.  He wandered back into the kitchen to gulp down his ignored coffee and try to solve the missing puzzle of his disappearing underwear.  'Taker looked at the other man and took pity on him.  He knew how aggravating Min could be, and he wasn't sure if the other man was fully prepared for her. 

"I bet I can tell you what happened to them," 'Taker said quietly.  Mike frowned as his eyes snapped to the taller man.  "It happened to me years ago, too.  Made me thinking I was going nuts.  I finally just plain out asked her and she told me the dryer gremlins did not absorb them.  She tossed them."  Mike opened and closed his mouth several times as he digested that nugget of info.  'Taker watched the other man's brows settle into a frown as he came to the realization that his lady love had thrown out his underwear, including his favorites. 

"Just ask her," 'Taker reminded the other man.  "She'll tell you if she did, trust me."  Mike's frown deepened.  Any comment that he might have said was cut off by the object of their discussion as she bounced down the stairs into the kitchen. 

She looked from one man to the other, sensing she had interrupted something.  Her eyes lingered on Mike, willing him to say something.  He stayed mute as he fought an internal struggle, trying to decide if 'Taker was fucking with him or not. If he was, he didn't want Carrie to know about it.  Carrie waited another half second before turning away and opening the fridge, determined to find something to eat.  Mike's eyes followed her actions, still debating, or so 'Taker thought. 

"Honey," Mike said tentatively. 

"Yeah, " came her reply as she rummaged through the fridge. 

"I can't seem to find some of my clean clothes, Babe.  I know I put them in the hamper," Mike said, waving his arms about.  Carrie had pulled her head back out of the fridge with an armload of fruit.  She noted Mike's arm waving and reassessed his question. 

"Oh, if you're looking for your shorts?  I tossed them," Carrie said with a casual flip of her hand.  Mike blinked in surprise, he hadn't been prepared to have her admit to it so readily. 

"You what," Mike asked, voice rising with his confusion.  'Taker smiled and stepped away from the kitchen, knowing that some sort of confrontation was coming.  He grabbed the morning's paper off the counter before he settled himself on the couch.  Carrie shrugged.   

"They were disgusting, Mike.  How anyone can wear them when they've got holes and shit, I don't know.  So I got rid of them."  Carrie shrugged and turned back to peeling a banana in preparation for her fruit smoothie.  

"All of them?  You tossed all of them," Mike asked incredulously. 

"I might have,"  the unperturbed momma to be said.  "I threw out two pairs yesterday, that's all I know." 

"What?  So what the fuck am I gonna wear," Mike asked, dreading the answer.  He didn't have anything against going commando in jeans, but was a little uncomfortable going without drawers in his suit slacks. 

"Are you done yelling at me," Carrie turned back to him with a challenge in her eye.  She was totally unmoved by his temper or the disparity in their sizes. 

"I am not yelling," Mike said, even though his volume was louder than normal and to anyone else, it would be considered yelling. 

"Really, so this isn't yelling," Carrie said with a smirk, turning back to her fruit.  Mike shook his head in denial, thinking they had strayed way off track here.  Without a word, Carrie spun on the balls of feet, surprising Mike's with her quickness, and grabbed the snap on his jeans.  Her fingers reached inside, feeling his t shirt tucked in and pushed against his stomach gently. 

"Babe, what," was all Mike managed to get out before she shoved him back. 

"Shut up," she said, shoving him again.  This time, toward the pantry/laundry room.  He put his hands up in surrender, not wanting to piss off the feisty pregnant lady.  She gently shoved him through the door into the small room.  Before he knew what her intent was, she pulled the door shut. 

"What the f-," Mike said before his words were cut off by the simple method of capturing his lips in a serious kiss.  He groaned in appreciation as his hands slid down her shoulders, cupping her ass as she pinned him against the pantry door.  He growled at her actions, at her taking control.  It was a definite hot button for him.  She ripped his shirt out of his jeans, tugging it up, waiting for him to get the hint and peel it all the way off. 

"Right now?  You wanna do this right now," Mike breathed.  He saw her nod in the semi darkness of the room.  "We got visitors," Mike reminded her. 

"So?  So what?  He's not listening," Carrie whispered back as her fingers found the buttons to his jeans.  Her fingers trailed over his ribs, sliding down with his jeans.  She managed to slide his jeans down to mid thigh, not bothering to go any further.  Her lips nipped at him, teasing him and making him forget all about their visitor.  He quickly pulled his t shirt off, he was definitely game for whatever she had planned. 

Before he even realized her intent, her lips brushed his cock, making him moan with need.  He loved it when she wrapped her lips around his aching cock.  Loved it when she swirled her tongue around him, making him forget to breathe.  Her tortuous fingers brushed between his legs, making his groan.  He knew where she was going and what the outcome would be.  It was inevitable.  As her fingers grazed his ass, she lifted her lips away. 

"Oh fuck, Babe," he muttered.  He shifted his hips toward her sinful lips, trying to get her to finish him.  She kissed his left hip and licked her way to his belly button.  He groaned in frustration, wanting her tongue to be back on his demanding cock.  He was already aching with need. 

"We have a visitor," she whispered.  She didn't care really, but she wanted to tease him, just a little. 

"God damn babe, I don't give a fuck if we've got the President over," Mike mumbled.  "Just, don't..don't stop," he said, threading his fingers through her hair. 

"You sure," she teased just before she pulled his throbbing cock deep into her mouth, making coherent thought impossible for Mike.  She pushed him back against the pantry door with a loud thud.  She focused all her attentions on making him groan.   

Mike felt the door behind his back and leaned against it, grateful for the prop.  Any other thought burned away as he was subjected to the most mind numbing, brain melting blow job he'd ever had.  Today was not about gentleness or finesse.  She tortured him, making him almost scream in release before she slowed down and playfully pulled away, only to have his cock bounce back at her and hit her chin.  The first time she got slapped, she chuckled low.  After that, Mike lost all ability to think, his brain had officially melted. 

She started to hum slowly, driving what little sense was left from his brain.  Some of her fingers were embedded in the skin of his ass, controlling his movements. 

"uh oh, god, oh," was the only sound out of his mouth for several moments.  Mike didn't normally utter gibberish but he had an awful feeling that he did.  Finally she upped her tempo, of both her movements and her humming, forcing him to explode.  He had the vague idea that he might have yelled, but he wasn't sure.  All he knew was her expert lips and tongue were wrapped around him, milking him of ever last drop.  He finally released his grip of her hair, trying to settle his breathing and bring some blood back into his brain.  She let his now limp member slide out of her mouth, satisfied that she had proved her point.   

"Geeze, Babe.  Tell me when you're gonna do that," Mike asked as he gasped for breath.  She shook her head at him and smiled.  What was the fun of telling, took all the surprise out of it. 

"I don't think so," she said quietly.  She pulled his head down and kissed him quickly, before she reached for the door handle behind him. 

"What," was all he said as the door was pulled open, forcing him to move.  "We still got company," he rasped.  Breathing was becoming less of a chore, but it was still far from normal and no way was he ready to go out into the kitchen yet and let their visitor know exactly what she'd just done to him.  She smirked at him, walking back into the kitchen without so much as a hair out of place, or so it looked to him.  He knew he was a different story.  She'd milked him so damn hard and fast that he'd broken out in a heavy sweat.  He wasn't ready to step back out into the kitchen and pretend that it was a normal morning, no matter what she said. 

'Taker looked up at the sound of the pantry door reopening.  He kept his smirk hidden at seeing Min walk back out to the kitchen with a little satisfied smirk on her face.  He knew that look too well.  She had done exactly what he'd guessed.  God, he needed to steer clear of those thoughts.  That way lay frustration and ache and he'd had enough of that to last a lifetime recently.  She looked his way quickly to see where he was.  He glanced down at the paper, not ready to meet her eyes.  She washed her hands before she went back to her fruit preparations, humming quietly to herself.  'Taker blew his breath out slowly.  It had been years since he'd heard her hum like that.  He needed to get his shit back together or he'd really be in trouble.  Waking up yesterday afternoon in her bed was bad enough, but the longer he stayed here, the less sure his control was becoming. 

The door to the pantry opened again to admit a less than controlled Mike.  'Taker thought he looked a little, okay more than a little, rattled.  He wasn't pissed, and who could blame him 'Taker thought.  But he definitely appeared rattled.  Mike raked his face with his hands again before he said anything.  He noted that their visitor had moved from the couch and was stepping toward the kitchen. 

"Carrie, what the hell are you doing," Mike asked.  He saw she was mutilating some fruit and his brain couldn't figure out any reason for it.  She flashed him a look that clearly said he was dim witted. 

"I'm getting some fruit ready for my smoothie," she said quietly.  One of their house guests had walked up to the kitchen, setting the newspaper back down on the counter.  Mike frowned at her words, trying to get them to fit in to some sort of sense.  She saw his confusion, causing her lips to twitch. 

"No matter what you read in Penthouse Forum, that is not enough to sustain me," she quipped.   

Mike muttered fuck under his breath, dropping his head against a cupboard with a thud, hugely embarrassed by her words.  'Taker couldn't stop his laugh, in part to her words, but also at the other man's embarrassment.  She grinned at his laughter.  It was still music to her ears, even now. 

"You're still bad, honey," 'Taker said to the woman that still haunted his dreams.  She inclined her head in response to his compliment.  Mike looked from one to the other and felt that he was somehow the object of their own private joke, he just didn't know how he lost control today. 

"Here, give me that.  You've making a hell of a mess," Mike said as he reached for her mashed kiwis and strawberries.  He wanted to busy himself with doing something instead of facing the two in the kitchen. 

"Mattie up yet," Carrie said with a grin as she watched Mike take her lunch goodies from her.  She knew exactly why he'd busied himself, it was just his way of dealing with things. 

"Fuck, I hope not," Mike muttered as he efficiently divided the usable fruit pieces. 

Carrie shared a quick look with 'Taker at the other man's actions.  'Taker shook his head slightly, in sympathy of the other man.  Some things are better left unsaid, his silence conveyed to her.  'Taker was reminded of his earlier plan, thinking about their laundry room.  He thought he'd spotted some sports equipment in there.