<Skyler's POV>

It is one of those rare days that I am not working a night shift. It is six o'clock in the evening and instead of heading to the bar for work, I am on my way to the Curtis's to spend time with the entire gang. It is rare that we all have free time. I park my car in from of the house in the road. Excitedly, though exhausted, I make my way to the door and open it quickly to find everyone in the living room, including my children. "Hello delinquents!" I shout with a wide smile on my face. I glance at all the familiar faces and can not contain my happiness. All of my children race over to me. I embrace them gladly, smelling my beautiful babies, though I guess they aren't babies anymore. It had been two years since Dallas left, making Tibby six almost seven years old, the twins five, and Kaya almost three years old. Tibby is able to run to me, I can remember when she could barely crawl to me. The twins can also run fairly quickly, and Kaya toddles behind them. It is unreal to watch them all walk. I try not to think about ow Dallas would love to watch his children walk. He missed Kaya's first steps, and that kills me, though it is just one of the thousand things he will miss in their lifetime.

After the children all hug me they return to the other children who are doodling on the floor, even Steve's twins and Hayden, just barely two years old. It still baffles me. Chris is the next one to embrace me. "Skyler Elizabeth, funny seeing you here," She jokes with a beer in her hand. I hug her tightly. Soda approaches us with two beers, her hands one to me and I wink in thanks. Chris pulls away from the hug and Soda wraps his arm around her back.

"How was work doll?" Soda asks. I sigh.

"Work is work, crazy good tips though, can't complain.

"You know Sky, you don't have to work, I got you covered," Steve says from his chair, a beer in his hand. I fake a scowl.

"And you know I have to be independent, and busy, I can't take your money forever,: I respond. Steve just shrugs and looks back at his twins, taking a swig of his beer. I notice Keith causing mischief in the kitchen with an almost seven year old Henry. I don't even want to know. I also of course, take notice of the two faces not here. Pony, who is at school, and Leala who is still off in California with the hippies, on a long healing journey. She contacts us very often, keeping us updated. She has not met another man since Darry, but she says she is happy, and frankly thats all I need to hear.

I look back to Chris, "whats on the menu tonight Curtis, I am starving," I exclaim. Chris grabs my free hand and walks me to the kitchen where a couple lasagnas are popped into the oven. I smile in approval. These nights are familiar to me and it is comforting. Chris and I chat in the kitchen fro some time. I enjoy my beer, happy to know I won't be pregnant again, and there fore always able to drink. I help her finish dinner and set the table. Everyone gathers at the dinner table, its tight but we fit. The food disappears quickly as does the booze. I am personally testing my limits with the booze since I am staying here tonight and haven't been able to relax like this in a few weeks. Being a single mom is no parade. After dinner Chris and I do all the dishes and it must be a special night because Chris has made chocolate cake for everyone, Darry's special recipe. And we all indulge in the heavy goodness. It tastes like home. With their stomachs full, we all put our children to bed. And now the adult fun begins. The heavy drinking and joking can finally commence. The music is loud enough to dance to, but not so loud that the kids can't sleep through it. Two-Bit and Chris dance while Soda watches smiling. Eventually Steve and I make our way to the porch as we always do. It will always be Steve and I passing a bottle of our favorite liquor back and forth.

The night air is cold and I am thankful for my leather jacket. This is maybe my favorite time of these nights. The time I get to just stand outside with Steve drinking. He is the one that will always understand me the most out of this group. We ride the same wavelength. "So Randle, how was your week?" I ask before swigging pure vodka. I don't feel it anymore I am so drunk. I pass him the bottle and he takes a gulp as well. "The twins just keep getting more energy, I love it," he smiles and then look down at the ground dismally. "It makes me think of her." I grab his arm and put my head on his shoulder.

"I know Steve, I know exactly what you mean." And I really do. Every stride my children take makes me happier, and yet sadder somehow. Sad because Dallas won't see their accomplishments.

"I suppose we should go back inside before things get to sappy huh?" Steve states.

I smirk, "I am not sappy, tonight, I wanna dance Stevie." We rush back inside and turn up whatever song is playing. I start dancing with Chris, like an absolute maniac. We laugh and drink and spin around. I haven't been this messed up in a long time, and I love it. It feels good to feel free. Soon all of us are dancing, Chris and I even get on the coffee table and dance like insane people. I can't tell if I am singing along or not, my head just spins as I do. It is crazy how small our gang has gotten. We are vastly outnumbered by children as well. But none of that quite gets to me as I dance on that table. I know I must be moving a lot, but I barely feel it at all. I just barely am able to see the black hair swaying in my face. I do feel something though. I feel a pair of hands on my waist. I feel him now, his chest pressed up against my back, his arms wrapped around me, dancing together to the rock music. My neck shivers from his warm breath hitting my skin. My eyes close and I tipsy head back into his shoulder. I lean back to far though, and my eyes shoot open as I realize I am falling off of the table. Dallas isn't here, I know he was never there. My feet finally crumble under my weight and I fall back of the coffee table. My head never cracks on the ground though. Arms really do hold me up this time. I feel all my limbs hanging loose in the air. Looking up I am met with dark puppy dog eyes and long shaggy hair with no grease in it at all. I know those eyes, and I definitely know that head, though it was shorter the last time I saw him. My heart gets caught in my throat.

"Dallas?"