Disclaimer: Characters belong to Aaron Spelling, E. Duke Vincent, Gary Tomlin, NBC, et al and are used here strictly for non-profit entertainment purposes.
Rating: T
Genre: Supernatural
Spoilers: Everything through Olivia on the cruise, then it quickly dances into AU territory.
Summary: Happy. Stars. Promise. Always.

If you love a flower that lives on a star, it is sweet to look at the sky at night. All the stars are abloom with flowers. – Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

April 2, 2034

"I've got an eight year plan."

Trey looked up from the stack of documents in his lap. "Eight years, hmm? At the moment, I've only got a one week plan and that's to make it through the confirmation hearing and vote."

Mitch sighed and rapped his knuckles on the mid-century coffee table. "Focus here, Armando!" Trey rolled his eyes and turned back to the briefing. Mitch had been a close friend since their undergraduate days at Cornell. He was the only one who got away with calling him by his legal first name. "Here's how it goes: all your time at the State Department has paid off and you're going to be confirmed as the next United States Ambassador to the Court of St. James. You serve two years, just in time for President Booker's re-election. Serving in that post puts you in a prime position to be named Secretary of State in his second term."

He looked up slowly. Mitch was sitting tall and puffed up like a proud peacock as Nan would've said. It was time to bring him back to reality. "That's only six years. What about the other two?"

"You're going to step down as Secretary before the midterms. You're going to run for Congress right here in the Virginia Tenth." Trey nodded, feigning serious interest, as Ashley sat up and beamed. "Then, we start laying the ground work for you to be named Veep in '44."

Silence. "Vice President?"

"Then, President in '48. Or '52."

Trey burst out laughing as he turned back to the profiles of the committee members. "I'm not running for President."

"Of course you are, man!" Mitch exclaimed. "It's in my plan."

"What about what I want?"

He nodded and sat up, cupping his knees. "Ok. Tell me what you want. Lay it on me."

With a sigh, he leaned back in the chair and began, "I think I might like to be a law professor after I finish serving as ambassador. Not at Cornell though. It's too damn cold in Ithaca. Besides, Hadley wants to raise the kids here in Virginia."

"Law…professor?" he repeated in disbelief. Trey glanced over and tried not to chuckle at the crestfallen expression on Mitch's face. When he turned to Ashley, he saw she was just as disappointed. "Trey, that's- that's a waste."

"No, no. Think about it. They love me over at Foggy Bottom and I know they'd snap up a former ambassador in a heartbeat."

"But, Trey-"

"Hadley and I have already discussed it. We want a life outside the Beltway. I'm committed to serving as ambassador for three years and then we're coming home." The mere thought gave him pause. Liv would be eight then. The new baby would be three and most likely a hell raiser the way Liv had been at that age. "Taking up residence at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue isn't in our plans."

"But, Trey-"

He looked up sharply, his brow furrowed as he pushed the profiles away. "Let it go, Mitchell."

With a reluctant nod, he looked away and reached for the stack of papers on the coffee table. "Fine," he said curtly. After a perfunctory glance through the documents, he asked, "So, I guess the only thing we have left to talk about then is your opening statement."

"Oh! Don't forget you have to talk about your grandmother," Ashley piped up.

Trey looked over. "How come?" He stood slowly, shaking loose his suddenly clenched fists.

"Remind them your grandmother was British. That you spent your summers with her in London or wherever. It'll help the senators see you've got a personal understanding of the very special relationship between the U.S. and the U.K."

"Good call, Ash." Mitch turned back to Trey, his face animated. "Wasn't she a duchess?"

Trey shook his head as he moved to the open window, gazing intently through the glass. The sun filtered through budding leaves on the trees in the yard, scattering it into thin beams. "Baroness for about a week," he replied quietly, "and then a countess. Colin's peerage was upgraded on New Year's Eve 2000." He could hear Liv's enthusiastic giggle as she kicked a soccer ball to Hadley. Pop sat on the wooden bench with a blanket drawn over his knees as he encouraged her from the sidelines. He turned back to them, his hands deep in his pockets. "We agreed the opening statement for the hearing was mine to craft. I'll talk about what I want." When Ashley exchanged a tentative glance with Mitch, he cleared his throat. "Guys, I've got this."

Mitch nodded, but he could see the disagreement in his eyes. "You got it, chief," he replied flatly. He stood and gestured for Ashley to follow. "I think we'll break for now. Give you back your Saturday afternoon with the family. Tomorrow though, I'm bringing the team over to hold the mock session of the committee."

He grimaced. "You make a terrifying Rand Paul."

Mitch chuckled and said, "I've been practicing my southern accent with Hadley. A Kentucky accent isn't that different from Virginia."

"Only a Yankee from Rye would think the cadence of a Virginian is the same as a Kentuckian." He nodded at Ashley and waited until she left the study. "You really think I need to talk about Nan?" he asked quietly as he rubbed the back of his neck.

He sighed and shrugged. "Our sources say the committee confirmation is already wrapped up. But, the full vote is a concern because-"

"I'm young and I've never served as an ambassador before."

"Yes. A few senators have…reservations. Some extra reassurance about your personal connection to England could quiet those concerns."

He nodded thoughtfully and watched as Mitch picked up his briefcase and left. With a deep exhale, he rubbed his face and sank into the large leather chair behind his desk. When he lowered his hands, his eyes fell on the line of framed photos. He moved slowly over them, memories pulsing from deep within the core of his soul. One from his wedding day, Hadley's long veil floating on the wind as they embraced by the lake. One of Hadley and Liv from their latest visit to Sunset Beach, the sunlight glistening on the waves behind them. He sat up and reached for the one sitting inconspicuously next to the photo of him with Mom and Dad on the day he was sworn in at the State Department. It was a photo of him with Nan and Pop when he graduated from Cornell Law School. He remembered Mom took the picture with her iPhone on that cold winter day.

"Hurry and take it, Caity," Nan urged, her teeth chattering together as they stood in the quad after the commencement ceremony.

"Cold, Liv?" Pop teased.

"Don't start, Gregory." She glanced up at Trey and winked as he hugged her close, rubbing her shoulder.

"Help, Daddy!"

He dropped the framed picture to his desk as he spun around to the window. Liv's small face peaked over the sill as she reached in through the open window. He smiled and rolled over, his hands beneath his daughter's arms as he helped her climb through the window. She scrambled into his lap, her little knees pressing into his thighs. "Are you still working?" she asked with a deep sigh.

Trey shook his head. "Nope. I'm done for today."

Her blue eyes – Nan's eyes – lit up as she excitedly clapped her hands. "Come play with me, Mommy, and Pop!" She slid off him and pulled his hands, coaxing him up. "Come on, Daddy!"

He picked up his daughter and wondered if he would ever not marvel at the way she trustingly climbed onto his back, her little arms wrapped around his neck. "Sure thing, baby."

Gregory detested his cane.

It was a weakness he could live without.

He leaned on the metal stick and ignored the fact that it was considerably easier to walk down the hallway to Trey's study now. His balance was better. His steps were less tentative. He didn't care. He hated being weak. He hated being almost 84.

"I'll race you, Pop!" He looked up, a small grin on his face as Liv flew past him. Her long braided pigtails swung behind her as she scampered ahead of him and turned into Trey's study. She came back to the doorway and danced in a small circle. "I win!"

"You had a considerable advantage, young lady."

She looked at him quizzically as she tugged on the end of one of her braids. "What's a 'considerable advantage' mean, Pop?"

He chuckled and patted her head as he stepped into the study. Never before had he heard the word 'considerable' pronounced with such deliberate carefulness. At nearly five, Liv was whip smart. The child asked more questions than he could ever recall Caitlin, Sean, or Trey asking when they were her age. He chucked her chin as she looked up at him with wide eyes. "It means you're younger and faster than your old Pop."

She grinned and giggled. "You're old, Pop! Older than me, Mommy, and Daddy!"

He nodded as Trey cleared his throat. "Pop, you might be the oldest, but I'll still demolish you on the chess board."

"Can I watch?" Liv asked as she skipped over to the tea table with the chess board on it. "I promise to be really really quiet now!"

"Course you can, baby," Trey said as he held out his chair for him. "Come on, Pop. Get ready for the game of the week."

As he sat down slowly, he felt Trey's hand come around to his arm, steadying him as he lowered himself to the chair. "I want Pop to win today," Liv announced as she climbed into his lap. She turned and looked up, her sweet smile reminding him so much of Olivia that his heart skipped a beat. He had no doubt that Olivia would've been absolutely delighted by her namesake. "Daddy won last time, so Pop should win today. Because that's fair."

Trey chuckled and met his eyes from across the board. "Pop's never been one for fair, baby. Winners win and that's that."

Gregory chuckled as Liv snuggled back against him and his arm went around her, holding her close. "Fair is fair, Trey. After all, who am I to argue with the brains of the family?"

His son shook his head and stared down at the board, focusing intently. Since he sold the house in Sunset Beach and moved in with Trey and Hadley, this had been their Saturday tradition. These quiet afternoons over the chess board in the study. While he had always been close to Trey, everything changed in the years since Olivia's death. Trey knew they were his parents. Their long overdue, but secret, relationship of father-and-son eclipsed their former relationship of grandfather-and-grandson. This was the second chance he desperately wanted for himself and Olivia. Years ago, he promised he would be better with the new baby and, though it had taken more than thirty years, he knew this was the best it was ever going to be. He and Trey talked about everything. Unsurprisingly, Olivia was a frequent topic of conversation. Her name was invoked so often that it felt as if she was still alive and living with them.

"Daddy, are you white or black today?" Over the last few months, Liv began to join them during the chess matches, though her interest never lasted for more than a few moments. Even now, she was already slipping out of his lap to sit on the floor, where a stack of coloring books and a plastic tub of crayons waited for her. She just wanted to be close to them. "I think you should be white."

"White it is then, baby."

He cleared his throat and leaned forward as Liv pulled an oversized pillow to the floor and lay down on top of it. "Are you ready for Monday?" he asked quietly as the scratch of Liv's crayon against the paper filled the background. Trey was going to Capitol Hill to be grilled by the Senate's Foreign Relations Committee. His son was all but guaranteed to be confirmed as the next ambassador to England. England. He couldn't help but smile. Olivia would've been over the moon with his latest accomplishment. The same way he himself was at the news.

"I think so," he whispered as he moved his pawn out. He sighed deeply and Gregory looked down, studying the board while he waited for him to continue. Several minutes went by and an easy silence stretched between them. Patience was something he learned to live with, indeed embrace, in his old age. As his fingertips grazed his own pawn, he heard him finally murmur, "They think I should talk about Mom."

He nodded and looked up. Trey's face was anguished as he sat back and sighed again. "You don't want to?" he asked quietly. That was unlike him. He had been exceptionally close to Olivia.

"No. No, it's not that. I-" Their eyes met as he confessed in a whisper, "It just feels wrong to use her to win points with the senators. It's cheap."

He sighed and shook his head. "If she were here, she'd tell you talk about her."

"Do you think?"

"Yes." He believed that with every fiber of his being. There was nothing Olivia wouldn't have done for their youngest child. "Come to think of it, she'd probably tell you what to say. Talking about how close you two were is the truth. No one could fault you for that."

Trey sat quietly for a long moment before he leaned in. "And…there's no way- I mean, you said your friend took care to cover up everything, right?"

He instantly understood. Nobody investigated a person quite like the federal government. That was the real reason why he was reluctant to talk about Olivia at the committee. It would be covered by the media. It was a news story. People would hear their names. And, people might start to remember. The one thing Trey had always insisted on was Caitlin never knowing the truth. She would be heartbroken. She- they were good parents to me. I can't- I won't take that away from them. "You've already been vetted by the State Department. You have a security clearance. If that didn't uncover anything, the Foreign Relations Committee won't either during their background check." Morris more than came through for him though. There was no official record of the D.N.A. test which proved Trey was his and Olivia's. The contents of his safe deposit box would never be seen by anyone. The hospital technician had been paid off years ago.

"But, what about your second wife? What's-Her-Name?"

He sighed internally. "She still needs my money to fund her lifestyle in Palm Springs or wherever she's living these days. She won't talk. She knows she has too much to lose if she does." He pushed Annie from his mind and reached for his son's hand, squeezing it gently. "It's going to be fine, son. It is."

Trey cracked a half-smile and nodded. "I believe you, Dad."

He patted his son's hand before he sat back and folded his hands in his lap. As the younger man stared down at the board, he said nonchalantly, "Any day now, Mr. Ambassador."

Trey's eyes turned up slowly, a wry grin dancing on his lips. "Has a nice ring to it, don't you think?"

He nodded, feeling as if the pride coursing through him would burst beyond the confines of his flesh. What was it Olivia said to him years ago? It was on the first Christmas he had spent with her in nearly twenty years. He's going to be fine. I feel it. Of course, she had been right. She had been right about everything. He inhaled sharply as he looked up, feeling a tickle dance across the back of his neck. Out the corner of his eye, he saw Liv sit up and wave. He followed her gaze, finding no one in the doorway. A breeze rustled through the room, bringing with it the fresh smell of the newly blooming flowers which surrounded the house.

"Liv, who are you waving at?" He glanced back as Trey's question echoed in the quiet, but his eyes were riveted to his daughter.

The little girl turned around and shrugged. "I dunno," she murmured as she lay back down on her stomach. "I thought she was there…"

"Who? Mommy?"

But, the child didn't respond as she returned to her coloring book. Though Trey looked back at the chess board, Gregory kept his eyes on his little granddaughter. Her legs kicked lazily in the air, moving in time with the scratch of her crayon. A moment later, she glanced over her shoulder, a quizzical look on her face. Their eyes met and he saw the question dancing in her eyes.

Trey sighed deeply and looked up at the stars. He didn't realize how much he would enjoy living in the home that had been his wife's grandparents until they moved into it. The restored Georgian mansion was surrounded by acres of rolling hills and hickory trees, all but ensuring peace and quiet. After the hustle and bustle of living in D.C. for seven years, the solitude of McLean was a welcome change. It seemed almost a shame they'd be leaving it for the ambassador's official residence in Regent's Park.

"Why is it you always go M.I.A. during bed time?"

He looked over as Hadley slipped onto the bench next to him and sighed. "Because," he began as he wrapped his arm around her, hoping he could talk his way out of this landmine, "Liv somehow gets more talkative in the ten minutes before she falls asleep than she was all day. It's…exhausting."

"Ha! How can you be exhausted by it? I'm the one who deals with her at bed time every night." She nestled against his chest as she replied, "You know, she fights sleep because she just wants to be up and awake with us and Pop."

Liv adored Pop. Of course, officially, Pop was her great-grandfather and the one time they explained what that meant, the concept confused her. In the end, explanations didn't matter to his daughter. She just loved her Pop and it was as simple as that. Liv and Pop spent their days together doing God knew what. But, whatever it was they did worked. The little girl was keeping Pop young. She kept him vibrant and active. "When she's a teenager, we're just going to bitch about her sleeping her days away."

She laughed softly as she rubbed his hip. "I'm sure. Luckily, that's still a few years away."

"Did you know she's going to be eight when we come back from London?" he asked, turning to her.

"Of course I do," she exclaimed as she sat up with a giggle. "I can do simple math, darlin'."

He sighed and looked back up at the starry night. "It seems like a lifetime away."

Hadley reached for his hand and pressed it to the crest of her stomach. "It'll go by in the blink of an eye," she murmured.

He sat quietly, feeling their unborn child move inside her. The first time he felt Liv kick, he ripped his hand away from her stomach, terrified at what he felt. There was a real baby in there. His baby. Their baby. But after, he couldn't keep his hands off her stomach. With every turn and kick, he felt something grow within him. Excitement. Pride. Every moment was Christmas morning when he felt his child move within his wife. It was no different with this new baby.

"Hey. What's that face for?"

He glanced up. "What face?"

"That sloppy grin." She cupped his chin and turned his face even with hers. She beamed, flyaway red wisps spilling out from the pile of hair on her head. "Hmm?"

He shrugged, feeling the sloppy grin expand to a full-fledged one. "Just thinking about something Pop said to me a few years ago."

"What was that?"

He remembered the way the English sun felt when they stood in the field, the shadow of Lavenham Hall behind them. "That I had the life Nan always wanted for me."

Hadley nodded, her hand sweeping up to cup his cheek. "She loved you. She was always so proud of everything you did." She lay down, her head resting in his lap as her legs dangled over the arm of the bench. "And, wherever she is, she's happy for you."

He nodded, his hand firmly on her stomach as they looked up the night sky. "Happy," he whispered into the chilly night, feeling a warm current spread in his chest as the silent stars twinkled overhead.

Gregory shuffled out of the bathroom, his slippers squeaking on the polished maple floor. He hooked the cane to the post of the bed and sat on the mattress, sighing deeply. He glanced around. Partially filled moving boxes were abundant in the room. They only moved in in August right after Liv's birthday and now they were all moving to England just as soon as Trey was confirmed as the next ambassador.

"You hate the boxes, don't you?"

He squared his shoulders, the voice crystal clear in the room. "I don't love them." He glanced over his shoulder as Olivia laughed.

"You hate them," she said insistently, leaning against the pillows. "Don't you remember when we moved into the house on Ocean Avenue?"

"My body may be failing, Liv, but I've still got my mind."

She smirked, her eyebrow arched as he slowly pushed himself onto the bed and up against the headboard. He only moved a handful of inches, but he was breathing as heavily as if he just finished fifty lengths in the pool. She patted his hand and scooted closer to him, waiting quietly until his labored breathing evened out. "You paid the movers double overtime to unpack the boxes and get them out of your sight."

"Money well spent," he grumbled, glancing at her out the corner of his eye. She smiled as his fingers threaded with her own and locked tightly. "I was ready for it to feel like our home."

She smiled quietly as she squeezed his hand. "I loved that house," she murmured as she leaned against him, her head on his shoulder. He turned, resting his chin on her head. "I thought it felt like home from the moment we walked into it."

He nodded and closed his eyes. The weight of her head on him now felt the way it did when she was alive. The feel of her hand and the sound of her voice was the same too. Of course, it didn't change anything. Olivia had been dead for years. But, she was still here with him. Still at his side. "Liv waved at you this afternoon," he said softly. She was quiet and he opened his eyes after several seconds. She was gazing down at the bed, the pale blue sheets a sharp counterpoint to his navy pajamas.

"I wasn't sure she would see me," she admitted in a whisper. She looked up slowly, her blue eyes wide she shrugged sheepishly. "After all, Trey never has."

He nodded as she pressed against him, her lips drawn in a thin line. She had been so upset the first time she went to Trey and he walked through her without even seeing her. He reached out and rubbed her thigh. "When I was his age, I wouldn't have seen you either." He was too young. Too focused on the living and what was right in front of him to focus on what was just beyond the edges of his vision.

Her head whipped around, an amused expression on her face. "Yet, all I can think of are all those times you couldn't keep your hands off me when you were his age."

He chuckled as she reached out, gently tucking his legs beneath the sheets. "Flesh and blood, Liv," he sighed as she drew the duvet over him.

She stood quietly and wandered over to the window of the ground floor room. He turned, watching the perfect line of her body as she folded her arms against her chest. It was only when he narrowed his eyes and sharpened his weak vision that he could see the pale and luminous glow surrounding her. He met her eyes as she said, "Liv won't remember seeing me."

He sighed, gazing up at the ceiling. "Maybe. Maybe not."

"She'll move to London in a few weeks. After something as exciting as that, she won't remember a woman she thinks she saw in a house she'll barely remember."

He smirked and turned to her. "She's smarter than you give her credit for. She may be confused by what she saw, but she won't forget it."

She smiled and he could feel the comfort his assurance brought her. She turned back to the window, her hands pressed against the sill. "He's happy though, isn't he?" He nodded, though the gesture was lost on her. "A new baby, a new job, a new home."

He didn't say anything. Then again, he didn't have to. Their children were fine and happy. All three of them. He watched her fingers dance against the window pane as a sigh rose in her throat. Whatever she saw in the yard sent a wave of peace throughout the room. "They remind me of us," she whispered as she turned her head to him. He felt a crooked smile on his face as she slowly traversed the distance between them. "It's a comfort, don't you think? That they have each other?"

He murmured his agreement as she climbed back into the bed and curled up against his chest. His eyes were heavy, but he forced them open and hugged her closer. He always savored these moments with her. Deep down, he wondered – feared – if they would ever stop as mysteriously as they started. Life at this age was hard enough. He wasn't sure if he wanted to even try to get through it without her.

"I'll always find you."

He smiled weakly, his eyes half-closed. "Promise?"

Her voice echoed in his mind, ebbing and flowing like the waves which crashed outside of the Ocean Avenue house. "I promise, darling." He felt her hand on his chest, her palm resting over his heart. "I'll always be with you."

He nodded, feeling his body slip away as he fell into sleep. Her voice lapped against his soul, the words of her promise a balm to his remaining days.