Sequel time! I know, I just ended "A New Twist On An Old Classic" like three days ago, but already I'm feeling the aftershocks of a bad decisions made. I'm thinking this one is going to focus more on Don and Syler, but there will definitely be some more Danny and Lindsay action for all you shippers out there. You know you love me, let me knew with some reviews here people.

Peace!

The couple lay motionless on the couch, his arm draped lazily over her waist, their deep breathing almost synchronized. She had interlaced their fingers somewhere in their sleep and he was tracing circles unto the back of her hand, and smiling even in his unconscious state, he knew he was the luckiest man alive.

Delilah walked behind her husband, and placed a hand on his arm, "Oh Jethro, let them sleep." She said, in a soothing voice as he grunted disapprovingly as the man sleeping on his couch pulled his baby girl even deeper into his embrace.

"At least the other city boy had the decency to do that in private." He said, waving his hand around wildly in the direction of his daughter.

"Oh hush, don't you remember what it was like to be young and in love."

"I certainly don't recall my holding you like that in the presence of your daddy." He huffed, folding his arms across his chest.

"Well that my love, is because my daddy owned a twelve gauge, when it was still legal to kill a boy on private property and call him trespassing." She said smoothing her fingers over his tense shoulders, "You need to get some rest."

Jethro Monroe nodded to his wife, but remained where he was.

"Allow me to rephrase that for you, you need to get some rest upstairs, in your own bed. We did not pay that kind of money for a TemperPedic mattress just to let you break your back sleeping on that damned couch every night. Besides, it appears to be occupied." Delilah said quietly, but with a low firm octave that Jethro knew better than to argue with.

He backed away from the arch that led to his living room, and up to the bottom stairway, before his wife's voice floating down to him, brought his gaze from the couple to the landing where she stood tapping her foot, and her delicate hand placed on the curve of her hip.

"I'm coming, I'm coming." He said, waving her on, and taking a few more long seconds to watch them, shaking his head, Jethro finally retired to his bedroom. Kissed his wife goodnight, and settled in, even though he knew he wouldn't sleep a wink until he heard the fifth and ninth stair creak, sink water run and drain, and the closing of doors. Signaling him that his daughter was in bed alone that night.

Downstairs, a woman shifted on the couch and turned towards her other half, and peeked an eye open at him, "You just had to pull me closer to you didn't you?" She said, referring to his earlier motion that she knew he had done just to get a rise out of her already disapproving father.

He cracked a smile, and opened his eyes to look down at her lovingly, "Don't act like that wasn't funny." He said, wrapping another around around her to circle her waist entirely.

"That, my Donald is not the point." She said poking hard into his chest, and he grimaced as though she had actually inflicted pain.

"Well then what is the point my Syler?" He asked, as she pushed off the cushions to make up their height difference, so she could look him straight in the eye.

"That my father really does own a twelve gauge." She calmly replied, and watched the amusement leave his face, and an apprehensive curiosity cross his face as he looked to the staircase where her father had been minutes before.

Smiling she took his neck to kiss him, and all thoughts of her father left him, along with most of his brain functions. Apparently most brain functions including hearing had ceased for Syler to, because they swore no creaking on the ninth or fifth stair ever occurred.

But Don regained most of his functions when he opened his eyes to look at Syler, but instead took in the sight of her mother stand at the bottom of the stairs smiling at the two of them. It took Syler a moment to understand why the ministrations that he had been about to induce had been recalled.

"Don't mind me, I just forgot t set the coffee to run in the morning."

Syler was attempting to bury herself in Don's shoulder when her mother disappeared around a corner.

"I can not believe my mother just caught me necking." She said, her voice muffled through his shirt, he laughed at her terminology, and kissed her forehead.

"Come on, it's not that bad."

"Oh yeah, that's easy for you to say Mr. perfect, what's the worst thing your mother has ever caught you doing?" She said, still pushing her forehead into the crook of his shoulder, trying to be swallowed up the his black Henley.

"She once caught me jerkin it to a picture of my first cousin." He said without hesitation.

Syler stilled, and turned to look at him, "She what?" She asked, her voice taking on several octaves higher, giving him a skeptical look.

Don looked down at her, unable to lie, "Alright fine, it was Cindy Lauper, and I was about to kiss it."

"See!" She wailed, rolling off of the couch.

"Come on," He said standing to take her arm, "This not a big deal, frankly I'm just ecstatic it wasn't your father."

She pelted his chest in false anger, as her mother walked around the corner again, Syler's hands stilled on Don's chest an the two smiled cheekily at her, "Your father says he is going to come down here and check on you two at ten-thirty." Delilah smiled at them, and moved up the stairs, now Dons and Syler heard the creaking of the stairs.

Turning to glance at his watch Don found the time to be ten-twenty three and forty eight seconds, "We should be heading to be."

"You are gonna have to buy me a drink first city slicker, I was raised right." She told him, as she slinked off to head up the stairs.

He grinned at her and took off after her, and even though she was fast, Don had longer legs and could take them two at a time, neither one realizing at that moment that the hollow wooden stairs would make ample amounts of noise as they raced up them.

Don caught her around the waist as she attempted to take the last three stairs all at once, "You're mine." He said digging his hands into her ribs, sending waves of barked laughter out of her.

"Stop, Don don't, please!" She cried, gasping for air at the same time, making her cries horse and like she was being tortured.

He was laughing menacingly, when all at once he stopped, and looking up Syler found her father standing before twelve gauge in hand. The illuminated dials on Don's watch showed, and from the downstairs hallway all heard the chiming of their clock, it was ten-thirty.

At that moment Syler understood the look of confusion that had passed her fathers face, the things she had been saying while fine in the context she had meant them, from a different standpoint, meant something completely unrelated.

His eyes didn't leave Don while they all straightened up, "I think it's about time you told my daughter good night." He said calmly, before walking back into the room from whence he came.

Syler turned to offer him a goodnight kiss, but he looked to scared to even move, so she just smiled and pecked him on the cheek and left him standing in the hallway. Sometime later she heard his bedroom door close, and she laughed audibly at the look on his face again.

Her eyelids were getting heavy, and she burrowed deeper into her covers, as sleep over took her.