Maddison fluff because it's just wrong that Maddison fics are becoming scarce on this site.

On the Beach You'll Find Them There

Her head is filled with images that threaten to overwhelm her-the small boy with stark eyes giggling at the edge of the ocean as he allows the water to wash over his legs. And the man standing behind him with a firm grip just in case the wave is bigger than first lets on. She stares at the four year old, intently watching the water and steeling himself for the next rush of water and then hears the loud shrieks that accompany the arrival of a new wave. His light hair has curled up from the moisture and he glances at her, a half-smirk on his face that she has to laugh at.

"Did you watch, Mommy?" He beams and she smiles and tells him how good at jumping the waves he is-with the help of his father's strong arms pulling him up-but she doesn't add that because he's entered the "big boy" phase.

"I love the ocean." He exclaims when he runs to her spot, dripping the salty water all over her and covering the beach towel in a sandy mess.

"Even though there are fishies that touch your toes?" She throws on a fake disgusted look-well mostly fake, she still isn't thrilled with the idea-and pulls his wet body onto her lap.

"Of course cause I'm four."

It's been the stock answer to every question imaginable over the last week, Caleb using any chance he has to hold up four usually sticky or dirty-from what she's never completely certain-fingers and declare that he is a year older.

"Ah, I thought that was it," Mark states as he runs a towel over his hair and takes his spot on the already wet beach towel. "You have way too much energy, kid. I need a nap."

And she laughs at him, half sprawled out on the sand, now sticking to him, with eyes fluttering shut and listens to Caleb babble on about naps being for babies. "Come on, Cae, it seems daddy passed out on us. How about we build a huge sand castle?"

Bright eyes light up as he jumps up from the beach towel and she almost cries with pride when she sees small hands reach out in an attempt to help her up, so she takes the pre-schooler's hand and uses the other-she loves the effort, but it's going to take more than a four year old's grip-to pry her 'I can't believe I'm this big' form from the sand.

"Thanks, Cae." Her hand runs through his light curls as they walk across the beach in search of the perfect castle building spot . "So how big are we building this?"

Outstretched arms answer her. "All the way to New York."

"Wow, that big, huh. We better get started then." She attempts to find a new comfortable position as she maneuvers her way to the ground and lets her toes dip into the cool sand before grabbing a pail and packing it smoothly. "You have to pat it down," she encourages when his lip threatens to quiver at the failed tower. "Like this." She presses hard into the sand, then turns it over and gently lifts the pail off. "Try it again, Cae."

An hour later and he's completely covered in sand as he stands on tiptoes, deep in concentration. His hands steady the smallest bucket as he tilts it to finish the masterpiece and his tongue sticks out to the side, a true testament to how serious he's taking his role as architect and builder.

He takes a victorious jump back when the structure doesn't crumple with the added weight. "Done." He proudly declares and rubs his hand together, sand flying.

"Wow, I think that skyscraper is even better than the ones we saw in New York last month." She tells him and his face contorts in contemplation.

"It delinifely is." He finally agrees after looking at the structure from all angles and grins in a way that could only belong to Sloan men. "It's bigger too."

"Does it need a moat?" She asks as she sifts sand through her fingers and breathes in the ocean smell. He shakes his head vigorously.

"Those are for castles, mommy. Only girls make castles. Boys make skyscapers."

His pronunciation slip-ups never cease to entertain her and she can't help but laugh at the so-serious tone of the preschooler. "Duly noted. Now, it's about time for a certain little boy to take a bath."

This time, the getting up takes more effort and when she does, her hand finds home on the baby bump, while the other seeks out the sandy hand of a certain blue eyed boy.

"But, I want to play more."

His eyes start to water and a tantrum would ruin what she thinks has been a perfect day so far, so she speaks calmly. "How about we go home, you take a bath, no exceptions," she adds when his lips begin to move. "And you and daddy can finish the fort in the living room."

He slowly nods his head as they begin the short walk back to the beach towel.

"Can we watch a movie in the fort?" He stops suddenly and pleads.

"Okay, one movie, and then bedtime." She negotiates and when his small hand reaches out to shake hers the deal is made.

"Mark, wake up. We're ready to-Oh my God." She can't stop the laugh from escaping her mouth. "Mark, why didn't you put on sunscreen like I told you to?"

"Because I don't burn," he mumbles, groggy from the nap, eyes just beginning to flutter open.

"Well apparently you do."

"You look like a lobster, Daddy."

She tries to grab Caleb when he stumbles, but a bump in the way takes more maneuvering and before she can pull him back, his body hits Mark's hot, red back.

"Fuck," He yelps before his mind can even register the word and in a matter of seconds, he's standing, careful though to make sure the boy is alright.

"Mark!" She scolds when she hears the word. He would say the worst one in front of their son.

"I'm sorry," he quickly gives as he attempts to still himself so the pain will stop.

"Daddy hates me," Caleb cries out, slate eyes filling with tears as he throws himself into her, arms struggling to wrap around her expanded middle.

"Hey, Daddy does not hate you," She tilts his small head up and wipes at his eyes.

"Come here." Mark holds his arms out and waits for his son to comply and pulls him into a hug when he does, face showing just how uncomfortable the effort is. "I do no hate you. It just hurt really bad and I know it was an accident. I'm not mad and I love you, okay buddy?"

He sniffles and nods. "Okay daddy." He pulls back and wipes at his face. "Can we still build the fort?"

"Well, if we don't then who will? Mommy doesn't know a lot about fort building. It's a man thing" Mark smirks and pulls their things together.

"I resent that. I can make a mean fort."

"Uh-huh," he scoffs as they begin the walk to the house.

"Wanna help us Mommy?" Caleb swings their arms as they walk, linked together.

"It's a man thing," Addison rolls her eyes at her husband. "You and Daddy build the fort and I'll make dinner. How very cliché."

"And barefoot and pregnant to boot." Mark bursts out laughing and receives a slap on his burnt shoulder for the comment, which sends him into a round of 'ouch's' and a constant questioning of "what'd you do that for?"

"You're on your own, just so you know," Addison warns when they're in the house and Caleb has been instructed to march to the bathroom without touching walls and wait for his mother to start the bath. "Good luck trying to rub the aloe on your back alone." She raises an eyebrow, and throws a smile over her shoulder as she makes her way to the bathroom.