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It was safe to say that after a fifteen hour shift and another hour reading to his twin children, that Detective Scott Wilson was exhausted.

She sensed that. Abbie Carmichael knew that their twins, Texan and Caylie, were a handful and feared how they were going to handle the twins and the baby that was still growing within Abbie.

Scott tried to have the kids to bed by eight and be in bed himself by nine...but sometimes plans change.

It was about midnight when he slipped into bed after finally arresting a suspect. He sighed as he felt Abbie stir.

"Hi." She whispered. "Sorry I woke you." Scott whispered back.

"S'okay...the baby did." Abbie said. Scott smiled and kissed her stomach.

"I believe that the shirt you are wearing is my Texas football shirt." He chuckled.

"Scott!" Abbie whined, "I'm sorry that your dick got us here! I'm five months along and -"

"Ok, baby, I'm sorry....God." He groaned taking his prosthetic leg off.

Abbie snuggled into his body, "Hard case?"

"It's awful. The girl's twelve, Abs. Caylie's half her age." Scott whispered.

"Scott..." "I'm thinking about talking to Liv and getting taken off the case." "You know that you'll have to talk to Elliot."

Scott rolled away.

Scott and Elliot had a problem with each other. Both, former Marines, disagreed with their way of how they did things.

"Scott Oliver Wilson, you have to talk to him." Abbie said.

"Abs, I don't want to. Besides, the case is almost over and-"

Scott was interrupted by a crash.

"The hell was that?" Abbie asked, placing a hand around her belly.

"Don't know. Stay here." Scott said putting his leg on and grabbing his gun.

He slowly crept down stairs. He cocked his gun and turned the light on in the kitchen.

He found an African American man, only in boxers. "Who the hell are you?" Scott asked.

The man looked up. Scott saw his face. A long beard clung to his face and several scars on his body.

"I don't know." He said. Scott lowered his gun.

"No needles." He said before collapsing.