Sam parked in front of the house and shut off the truck, the headlights dimming and throwing the street into darkness. It was late. Or early, depending on how you looked at it. Either way, he didn't even want to look at the time, knowing that he had way overstepped the mark tonight.

The past few weeks had been overwhelmingly busy. Half a dozen cases had cropped up that had Sam working early mornings and late nights, leaving Andy at home with the baby. He was gone so much that it was like she was a single mother, and Sam's guilt over the situation was eating away at him. He came home on his lunch hour when he could, but it was really only so Andy could get a nap in, therefore cancelling out any time they had for each other.

Andy tried to hide it, but Sam could tell she was unhappy just staying at home all day. She loved their daughter, there was no contesting that, but Andy missed work, and he knew it was even harder for her not to have him there, and then for him to come home and tell stories. And it was hard for Sam, too.

He watched as muted light spilled across the snow-covered lawn from the window to the nursery. Andy's blurry shadow passed in front of the curtains, bending over the crib and picking the baby up. Sam couldn't stand the separation from her. They'd lived a great life as a childless couple. There were no expectations, just work, and they could deal with not seeing each other for a few days at a time. It wasn't fun, of course, but they both knew it was part of the job. But when Andy had found out she was pregnant, they had known things were going to change, but neither could have predicted this amount of change.

Sam sighed and got out of the truck, grabbing his bag from the back. He walked up the path, stepping carefully so as not to slip on the ice. At the front door, he kicked his boots against the stoop to get the snow off and then unlocked and opened the door as quietly as he could. Andy had left the light over the kitchen table on for him. He took his boots and coat off and set his bag down lightly before relocking the door and checking that his truck was locked.

Shutting off the kitchen light, Sam headed down the hallway toward the muted light coming from the nursery, and he could hear Andy's soft voice clearer with each step he took. She was singing. He stopped outside the nursery just to listen.

When the evening shadows and the stars appear,

And there is no one there to dry your tears,

I could hold you for a million years,

To make you feel my love

Sam smiled softly. Andy's voice was barely a whisper, but the tenderness and love as she sang to their daughter was blatantly clear.

I know you haven't made your mind up yet,

But I would never do you wrong

I've known it from the moment that we met

No doubt in my mind where you belong

Sam peeked around the door to look into the room. The muted light of the lamp provided a soft backlight to Andy, whose back was to the door. She was looking down at the baby, a smile lighting up her tired face. She rocked their daughter gently, swaying in time to the song she was singing. Sam leaned against the doorjamb, crossing his arms over his chest, completely content to watch her all night.

I could make you happy, make your dreams come true

Nothing that I wouldn't do

Go to the ends of the earth for you

To make you feel my love

As she finished up, Andy turned to look at Sam, smiling tiredly at him. He pushed himself off the door and crossed the room. He put a hand on Andy's back and kissed her forehead. "Hey," he whispered, looking down at the baby in her arms, who was nearly asleep. Her eyelids were slowly closing and her tiny lips stuck out in a pout.

Andy continued to rock the baby, but she leaned into Sam as she did, laying her head on his chest. "Who'd have thought our wedding song would make a good lullaby?"

Sam chuckled and dropped a kiss on her head. "I did, of course. That's why I agreed on it."

He couldn't see it, but he knew she was rolling her eyes. "How was your day?" He asked, combing his fingers through her hair.

Andy shrugged a little, careful not to jostle the sleeping infant in her arms. "Uneventful. You?"

Sam sighed and said, "Too eventful." Andy just nodded. "I'm sorry." She nodded again, not saying anything. She bit her lip and looked down at their daughter, hiding her face from Sam, but he could tell how upset she was.

"Andy?" She looked up at him and he could see the exhaustion in her face. These few months had taken their toll on her. "How about I take the day off tomorrow? You can get some sleep, I can get some quality time with her, and we can all just relax."

Andy's eyes widened. "What about the cases you're working on? Sam, you don't have to-,"

Sam cut her off, "Andy, I want to. And Nash can pick up where I left off. I think it'll do us some good. Okay?"

Andy grinned, "Yeah. Okay."

"Okay," Sam repeated back in a whisper before leaning in to kiss her. He then smoothed his hand over their daughter's soft down of dark hair and kissed her gently on the head. Andy laid the baby down in her crib and stroked her cheek before checking that the baby monitor was on and turning off the lamp.

They closed the door softly behind them, careful to leave a gap. They watched their daughter's soft breathing in the light that came from the bedroom. Sam leaned his cheek against Andy's hair, and she laced her fingers with his, wrapping their arms around her stomach.

"We'll get through this," Andy whispered.

"I know," Sam said.