A/N: I can't believe it has been more than a month since I updated =( My deepest apologies, Real Life has been hectic lately. I hope this chapter makes up in some small way for my tardiness.

"What on earth are you doing?"

Jamie jolted upward, knocking his head against the bathroom vanity above him, not expecting to encounter his father at 3 o'clock in the morning.

"Dad! Hey! I wasn't . . ." He crawled back from the wall, rubbing his head.

"I didn't ask what you wasn't, I asked what you are?" Frank repeated himself, leaning against the doorframe.

Jamie stood up and stretched. "Cleaning the bathroom," he stated.

"Under the vanity - at 3 o'clock in the morning," Frank declared as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"It was dirty," his youngest son defended his position. Then he clarified, "I have to be on the road by five. That text last night was a summons to an early morning meeting. I've got some problems to solve."

"They can't wait a few hours?" Frank tried to persuade him, but he just stared the older man down. Finally, Frank raised his palms in surrender. "See you at home, then. I'll make sure nobody uses the bathroom."

Jamie shot a tired but grateful smile in his father's direction. "I've got it covered."

And he did.

"What is this?" Silently, Erin read the sign, written in her younger brother's distinctive hand, hung on the bathroom door: "This bathroom is immaculate. You use it, you clean it! See you at home, x"

Nicky came up behind her, and started reading over her shoulder. "Obviously, Uncle Jamie had to leave early, so, like the good little boy he is, he did his chores before he left."

Erin chuckled as she ripped the paper off the door. "I'm going to tell him you said that," she threatened her grinning daughter. "In the meantime, I'm going next door for a shower."

XX XX XX XX XX XX XX

"Grandpa?" Jack stopped in confusion. They'd arrived back at Frank's house, and were unpacking the vehicles. The lad was dragging the suitcase up the front steps when he stopped and scuffed his foot on the edge of the porch. "Did you ask someone to fix the step?"

"No," Frank confirmed. "Why?"

"It's not crumbling anymore!" his grandson informed him, while opening the front door.

From there it was like Christmas in summer time. The leaky plumbing had been fixed. Painted trimmings had been retouched. Carpets and curtains had been cleaned. Lawns had been mown, hedges trimmed. And on it went.

Suddenly Frank disappeared upstairs with a stricken look on his face. He had the presence of mind to grab his luggage, hoping his family would think he has simply taking his belongings to his room, but in truth, he was desperate. It'd better still be there, he thought. Please, please, please, he prayed. A few minutes later, he came back down and went through to the lounge, silently repeating the same prayer. Stopping in the corner, he smiled and let out a contented sigh. He turned to his family, who had congregated behind him, not fooled by his behaviour, but, rather, concerned by it.

"Joe's Gouge is still intact!" He couldn't help the note of joy in his voice.

"And Mom's Ceiling?" Erin quickly understood her father's fear.

Frank nodded, and all the adults in the family let out a collective sigh of relief. Joe's Gouge and Mom's Ceiling were an integral part of the house, physical reminders of their late loved ones.

Sean moved forward to investigate the window sill in question. "Wow!" he breathed, lightly fingering the deep gash in the wood. "Uncle Joe did this? What did he use? Did he break the window? Did he get in trouble?" The questions poured forth unceasing, so Frank drew his three grandchildren to the sofa. With Sean on his knee, and Jack and Nicky close at his side, he launched into his tale. Erin, Linda, and Henry also settled down to relive the memory. Danny, for some reason, chose this moment to make himself scarce.

"It was the summer your Uncle Joe was nine. School had been out for three weeks. It was a really dry, hot day, one of the worst of the holidays. I had a day off, so Grandma and Aunt Erin went to town to do some girly shopping. No idea what they bought, didn't want to know then, don't want to know now." He shuddered in mock horror. "That left me at home with Uncle Joe and Uncle Jamie and your Dad," he nodded at the boys. "Uncle Jamie decided to stay inside with me because it was cooler, so I set him up in the lounge with a bowl of ice cream."

"Oooooh! Grandpa! That's against the rules!" Sean exclaimed.

"And, boy did I pay for it," Frank muttered.

"Why? Did Grandma spank you?" Sean asked innocently.

Frank turned beet red. Erin spluttered half her saliva all over the carpet. Henry bit his lip so hard it was left with an indentation for the next six hours. Nicky managed to contain herself to a snicker behind her hand, but her eyes were watering.

Struggling to remain unflustered, Frank hastened to continue his story with added gusto. "Uncle Joe and Dad, however, were "bored". Bored! In this house? Really? Imagine that! So, any way, they disappeared outside and peace reigned supreme. Uncle Jamie was sitting on the floor under the window eating his ice cream, I was reading the newspaper, the sun was shining, and Dad and Uncle Jamie were entertaining themselves outside. At least I thought they were, and then WHAM - a stone whizzed across the window sill above Uncle Jamie's head!" Frank illustrated with an explosive CLAP guaranteed to startle two sleepy boys.

"Did you go on a perp hunt?" Jack chimed in excitedly.

"Yes, yes, I did," Frank nodded his head in agreement. "The first suspect was easily found – your father came running in from the kitchen when he heard Uncle Jamie crying. He took over making sure Uncle Jamie was okay, and cleaning up the broken bowl and the ice cream from all over the floor, so I could locate the second suspect." Frank frowned in remembered anger. "He wasn't hard to find either; he'd heard Jamie's scream and come to make sure he was all right." The bereaved father's expression changed to one of fond exasperation. "From there it was just a case of a few well-put questions, and I quickly found out that your father was 'helping' your Uncle Joe improve his accuracy by giving him targets to aim at with a catapult and a stone – one of which was that knothole on that tree trunk." He pointed out the window.

"Oops!" giggled Sean.

"If Uncle Joe was 9, then Dad would have been 15, right?" Jack wrinkled up his nose. "And he still hadn't figured out the basics of physics yet? Things ricochet!"

"Yes, thanks for that, I think I've got it now!" Danny, who had been unobtrusively standing just outside the room, entered and ruffled his older son's hair.

"I hope so," Jack said cheekily.

"How come you never fixed it?" Nicky enquired.

"We just never got around to it."

Seeing his father slipping into moroseness, Danny piped up, "Tell them about Mom's Ceiling." The eldest Reagan sat beside his wife, eager to take the focus off both himself and his father's memories.

Frank beamed. "You've seen the purple paint on the ceiling in Grandpa's bedroom? Grandma did that. It was a few months before Daddy was born, and that room was going to be his room, so Grandma decided to redecorate it while I was at work. For some reason, she decided that neon purple would be a great colour for a nursery. She realised that she couldn't reach the top of the walls since she wasn't allowed to climb a ladder, so she decided to use my weed sprayer. Thing is, weed sprayer, paint sprayer, not the same. So we end up with a ceiling half spotted with neon purple paint and half white, and the walls untouched in all their lime green glory." He chuckled at the memory of coming home to his wife's purple hair.

"I miss something?" came a new voice.

Danny turned to greet the newcomer. "Nope, just wandering down Memory Lane. Somebody did up the house while we were on holiday, but left certain things unchanged."

"Oh, really?" Jamie grinned.

"So, is that what you were doing while we were on holiday? And why you were late getting your leave form in?" Now Danny felt really guilty for ever doubting Jamie wanted to join their vacation.

"I plead the Fifth."

"Who helped you?" Erin was curious as to what favours were going to be asked of her in the future.

"Don't worry. They all signed legal documents stating that this was a gift and they will at no time seek any form of remuneration or payback for their efforts. As for names, I plead the Fifth." Jamie repeated.

"No wonder you realised you weren't gonna make it as a lawyer, pleading the Fifth is about incriminating yourself."

"True. But if I incriminate Mickey Mouse, knowing that, when questioned, Mickey Mouse is going to incriminate me, aren't I, in effect, by incriminating Mickey Mouse, knowingly incriminating myself, which, as you so rightly point out, is what the Fifth Amendment is all about?"

"You are a lawyer after all," Danny grinned. "Glad you are on our side."

Frank entered the conversation. "Hypotheticals never incriminated anyone."

Jamie considered. "I can do hypotheticals. Okay, so, hypothetically, there is a group of people who have a boss that they greatly admire and respect. Hypothetically, this person has never taken a holiday for as long as he has been their boss. So when this boss hypothetically decides to take a week off, this hypothetical group hypothetically decide they want to do something nice for their boss and his family. Hypothetically, two of them approach me because I hypothetically might have inside knowledge on what that 'something nice' should be. And I hypothetically decide to help them because I have great professional and personal admiration and respect for their boss."

"Hypothetically, how'd you know the coast was clear?" Erin wondered

"Hypothetically? I may have had an accomplice." He saw the surreptitious looks everybody shot each other and chuckled. "Who said it was anybody here?"

A/N: And that is the end! Thanks to everyone who has stuck with me from the beginning. Your encouragements, questions, critiques and all-round interest have been amazing xx