Good Man

Too strong for too long (and I can't be without you baby)
And I'll be waiting up until you get home (cuz I can't sleep without you baby)
Anybody who's ever loved, ya know just what I feel
Too hard to fake it, nothing can replace it
Call the radio if you just can't be without your baby



The lights flickered in the downstairs office of the Wright residence while Giselle sat at her laptop playing a few rounds of Mahjong in-between writing up a reference letter for the next door neighbor's son who had worked as a candy striper over the summer at Giselle's hospital and was now looking to apply to medical school.

Looking up toward the ceiling, the curly haired 31-year-old sighed as she slowly turned her head to glance over her shoulder briefly.

"Knock it off, Frank."

"What? It's like manual strobelights," came the 39-year-old drummer as he stood in the doorway of the office, flicking the light switch up and down, as if having a seizure. "Strobelights...strobeli-ights! Un-der-neath the stroooobeliiiights!"

Giselle had swiveled completely around in her chair to look at her husband of five months and give him a simple 'you are clinically retarded' look.

"No more B-52's music for you," she remarked, pointing a finger at him like she meant business.

"Aw, and you know how much I love Fred Schneider and Kate Pierson," he faux whined.

Shaking her head, Giselle just smirked at the eternal five-year-old that was her husband. Trying to turn back to the reference letter and get it done sometime this century, the blue-eyed woman narrowed her eyes at the screen and lightly let her fingers begin to tap over the keypad.

Unfortunately, her train of thought had left the station.

"Oh, fuck it," she gave up. Saving the letter to WordPerfect and closing her laptop, Giselle jumped up out of her chair and stalked over to her husband full of annoyance and smiles, all at the same time.

Tre instinctively took a step back but was caught once she grabbed a hold of the collar of his navy blue T-shirt with 'I'M NOT AS THINK AS YOU DRUNK I AM' in blurry letters across the chest plate.

Leading Tre out of the office, he flicked the lights off for good as the two of them moved to the kitchen where Giselle let go of his shirt and turned to face him as she hopped up onto the counter and gripped the edge with her hands.

Smirking with a head full of devilish thoughts bouncing around his brain, Tre reached his own hands up to cup Giselle's face and pull it down so that their lips met with a soft smacking sound.

"Mmm...Frank?"

"Yes, m'dear?"

"I wanna try for a baby again."

Pulling his head back, Tre looked her in the eye and considered what she'd said. "Again? I thought we gave up that ghost? The doctors said with all the miscarriages that it might not happen for us."

"I know," Giselle replied sadly. Her brow sagged as she looked to down and to the side; casually kicking her feet back and forth just a little. "But I really want to give you a child. And I really want to have one for myself, too. I want us to be parents to our own child, Frank."

"Well, there's always in vitro."

Giselle shook her head. "Not the same. I wanna carry the baby. I wanna feel it inside me; moving, kicking, growing. I want what Caroline's had twice. I want that for us. I want a slew of mini you's and me's."

"A slew, you say?" Tre repeated, raising an eyebrow and snickering.

"Yes."

"Well," he began, sighing slightly. "I guess we better get to work then."

Hooking his hands under Giselle's arms, he pulled her down from the counter top and instead of taking her upstairs to their bedroom to make love, he laid her down on the tiled floor where their clothes began to fall away like petals wilting off a dying flower.



Several blocks away from the new home Tre had purchased for him and Giselle to live in together as a married couple, but not far from the home he'd shared for many years with his ex-wife Claudia and son Frankito, the Pritchards were going about their nightly routine of putting their kids to bed and trying to finally get that much needed time to themselves that always seemed elusive.

It was only earlier in the evening that Mike had made the comment about reconsidering the idea of hiring a nanny and as Caroline stood in front of her bathroom mirror, brushing her teeth, the idea was starting to sound pretty good.

Spitting the toothpaste into the sink and rinsing her mouth out with a cup of water, the brunette frontwoman of The Sinners jumped slightly when she looked up and found Mike suddenly standing behind her in the mirror.

Turning slightly with a nervous laugh while wiping her mouth with a small towel, she inhaled softly at the smell of his natural scent as his left arm reached past her body to grab his own toothbrush.

"You scared me," she stated.

"I always scare you," he replied with a ghost of a smile on his lips. "You scare easily."

"I can't help it." Looking at how the muscles in his arms flexed slightly as he pulled his arm back so that he could bring his toothbrush closer to him, Caroline took a steadying breath. She let her eyes travel up his arm, to his shoulder and chest area, up his neck and finally settling on his face which caused her to smile.

Feeling her gaze, Mike looked down and gave her a questioning look. "What?"

"Oh, nothing," Caroline lied, swaying side to side like a tree in the wind or a little girl up to no good.

"Liar."

Biting her bottom lip to keep from grinning too much, she took his toothbrush from his hand and set it on the marble counter space between the his or her sinks and swatted at his wrist when he began to protest.

"Care---"

"The kids down for the ten count?"

Mike hesitated, then nodded. After a few more moments of thoughts rolling around his head, he began to grin just as mischievously as she was. "I see where you're going with this."

"See; I knew you were a smart cookie. I don't care what anyone says about you," the 32-year-old woman teased her husband.

Flashing her a brief hurt expression, Mike eyed her sideways and then smiled. "I guess I'm brushing my teeth later, then?"

"Well, I don't think you can manage the coordination involved in brushing your teeth when I'm doing this," she spoke huskily as she sank to her knees and went right into an act that nearly brought Mike to his own.



About ten minutes later, Caroline and Mike were standing beside each other, still in the bathroom, and both brushing their teeth.

They kept catching each other's eyes in the mirror and would stop brushing for a moment to smirk at each other.

After they were finished, they stepped out into their bedroom and curled up in bed together, but not to sleep just yet; to sit up and talk for a bit.

But while Mike was going on about something or another, Caroline suddenly found her mind drifting into a somewhat of a daydream as she stared straight ahead and it was as if her mind was starting to play tricks on her. She could've sworn she saw herself and Mike standing in a small crowd of people in San Francisco and feeling very uncomfortable.

Swallowing back a lump in her throat, she snapped out of her daydream, only to catch the tail end of what Mike was saying.

"---then I think we could go to Ciao Bella Gelato for some sorbet before dinner since the place closes at 5:30 and our reservations aren't until 6:30. I figure we can do that, then maybe hit up Peet's Coffee and walk around the Ferry Building Marketplace beforehand. You know, give us something to do to kill time."

Caroline just looked up at him and began to frown while trying to shake the feeling from her daydream.

"What? Oh."

Mike caught the distracted tone in her voice and looked down at his wife and narrowed his eyes. "You okay?"

Caroline shrugged. "I dunno," she admitted. "Um...yeah. So, dinner in the city tomorrow. Me and you. Finally some alone time."

"Yeah," Mike nodded. "And Adie and Billie are still watching the kids for us, right?"

Despite the weird feeling in the back of her mind, Caroline nodded and smirked. "Adrienne pass up an excuse to have Chloe in her midst? Fat chance. That's the only time she gets to pretend she has a daughter."

"Well, she is the godmother, so it makes sense without being obsessively creepy," Mike joked just as there was the sound of light knocking on the bedroom door.

Both adults raising their eyebrows, Caroline made the move to get out of bed to answer the door.

On the other side, standing in the hallway looking nervous, was Mikey, holding his stuffed chimp, Mister Monkey, tightly in his arms.

"Honey, what're you doing up? It's late."

"I no wanna go in my room no more, mommy," the little boy replied, stifling back threatening tears.

"Aww, why not? Did you have a bad dream?" Crouching down to her son's level, she pulled him close and he opened his short arms to wrap them around her shoulders; laying his head down on her chest.

"No dream. Dere's a monsta in dere."

Her heart breaking at how cute his confession was, Caroline lifted Mikey into her arms and turned to face her husband who was already up off the bed and inching his way toward his wife and son.

"What's that, MJ? You got a real monster in your room?" Mike asked his boy. "Did you see it? What's it look like?"

Burying his face more into his mother's chest, Mikey shook his head back and forth; not wanting to face the scary beast that was apparently hiding in his bedroom.

"No. I no look 'cause it a monsta. It scare me."

"Well, that's not very nice of the monster, is it?" Mike questioned rhetorically.

"Nope," mumbled his toddler.

Mike reached a hand out and touched his son's cheek, making the soon-to-be three-year-old face him. "I'll tell you what; I'm gonna go into your room and give that monster a talkin' to and tell him not to scare you anymore, okay?"

Mikey just looked at his father shyly for a moment before nodding quickly. "Otay."

With a reassuring smile toward the boy and an amused one to his wife, Mike exited the master bedroom and walked only a few steps down the hall and made a right; turning into his son's bedroom and shutting the door.

He sat down on the boy's toddler bed and folded his hands between his knees and laughed to himself at the thought of what he'd do if there really was a monster in the room and he was yelling at it for scaring his son. It would definitely be interesting; that's for sure.

Taking a deep breath, he looked around and allowed his eyes to adjust to the darkness, despite the small night light across the room and it got Mike to thinking about different things.

Namely how here he was, forty years old and with toddlers. Estelle was fifteen and about to start the tenth grade. She was a high schooler and in two and a half more years he'd be watching her walk across the stage at graduation. Estelle would be finishing school while Mikey and Chloe would just be starting.

Christ, he'd be nearing sixty by the time Chloe would be finished with high school.

"God, if you allow my heart to keep beating until then, I'll owe you big time," he spoke quietly, looking up at the ceiling.

Tilting his head back down, he unclasped his hands and slapped his knees gently as he stood back up; walking toward the door and opening it in order to step out into the hallway.

Closing the distance between Mikey's bedroom and his own, the blue-eyed bassist greeted his wife and son with a smile.

"Did you yell at da monsta, daddy?" Mikey wondered; clearly not as frightened as he'd been minutes earlier due in part to being safely held in his mother's arms.

Mike nodded. "Yes, I did. I sat down and had a nice talk with Mister Boogaloo."

Suddenly the child's eyes widened and Caroline threw her husband an incredulous smile. She just absolutely loved how he was with their children.

"Da monsta told you his name?"

Nodding again, Mike continued. "Yep. Mister Boogaloo. And, you know what? He's not scary at all."

"He's not?"

"Nope. He kinda looks like big teddy bear. A big, purple teddy bear with a round, green nose. He's furry and soft like a kitten, too." Mike watched his son's expression turn into that of intrigue, so he went on. "I told him you got scared and he said he was sorry. He was only in your room because he was playing hide-and-seek with some of his cuddly monster friends and he thought your room was the best hiding place ever."

"It is?"

"Yup."

"Is he still in my woom? I wanna see 'im."

Mike shook his head and frowned. "Nope, he had to go home because his mommy told him it was getting late and that he had to get to bed."

Mikey pouted; wanting to see this supposed monster for himself. The same supposed monster he had not seen but was convinced had been in his room.

Caroline had kept her eyes on Mike the entire duration of this 'story' he was telling their son. But when she looked down at the child in her arms, she handed him over to the man she loved.

"Here, daddy will take you back to your room and show you where Mister Bugaboo---"

"Boogaloo," Mike corrected.

"---was hiding. And if he ever comes back you'll know he's just there playing hide-and-seek in your room and not there to scare you."

"Otay," Mikey mumbled as he went into his father's arms; still clutching his Mister Monkey. He leaned his upper body close to his mother to give her a hug and a kiss before being led out of his parents' bedroom and returned to his own.

When her husband and child disappeared through the door, Caroline wrapped her arms around her body and smiled at something appearing in her thoughts after what had just happened with Mikey.

Her and Mike had such beautiful children together and she was more than prepared to have plenty more with him where that came from. A slew of mini Mikes and Carolines. She knew that, despite Mike's claims to being 'too old for this shit,' he was more than prepared to have more kids, as well.

It was something they talked about sometimes; having more children than Mikey and Chloe. Caroline had told him once that she'd be more than happy to give up her lifestyle just to stay home and pump out children from here to eternity.

Caroline was climbing back into bed when Mike returned, shutting the door behind him and flashing her a knowing smile.

He shook his head with a soft laugh. "Not to toot my own horn, or rather our horn, but Mikey and Chloe are damn near perfect."

"That they are," she agreed as he joined her underneath the sheets.

Curling in to one another's sides, Caroline rested her head on Mike's chest and wrapped her left arm across his narrow waist; the two of them laying like that for what seemed like forever.

When their eyes began to droop, they both separated momentarily to turn off the lights on either side of the bed, only to return to the same embracing position.

"Care?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't know what I'd do without you."

Caroline smiled contentedly at his remark as she turned her face to place a kiss on his chest, then settle back down.

"Ditto," she added. Releasing a small sigh from her lips, the hazel-eyed woman hugged her husband closer and swallowed back that lump from before she thought she'd gotten rid of. "I'd go crazy if I had to be without you."

"Well, the only way I'm leaving your arms is if I have another heart attack, and that ain't ever happening." Kissing the top of her head, he smiled into her soft, dark brown hair, then added, "Cross my heart."