"Hurry! Mouse, hurry up!" Leo implored. He hopped from one foot to the other in a move very similar to the "potty dance," performed by toddlers the world over who needed to "go;" Leo, however, didn't need to empty his bladder, he was merely in a hurry. Indeed, he looked to Mouse like he might actually die if they didn't get going soon.

"Leo, relax, please, the fountain isn't going anywhere, you realize that, right?" she asked, laughing. She reached out and bopped his nose as she slid her feet into flip flops.

"But Mouse, I've been waiting forever," he replied, in obvious agony. "I took my nap early and everything!"

"And everything?" Mouse teased. He nodded, her sarcasm sailing far over his head.

She had promised him weeks before that when the fountains at Washington Square Park got turned on, they could go and splash around in them some afternoon, have a picnic, then get ice cream. Mouse thought it would be a nice way to spend a hot day.

Leo, who had been to both Disneyland and Disney World, thought this outing was the best idea ever. He had latched onto Mouse's idea of a fun afternoon and turned it into the field trip of the century.

"Okay, lemme look at you," Mouse said.

Leo stood at attention, eyes big, as she inspected him.

"Hat? Check. Sunscreen? Check. Water? Snack? Check, check," Mouse chanted as Leo nodded. "Did you go to the bathroom?" He nodded again. "Right, let's get this show on the road, then," she said with a grin, reaching for his hand.

Leo gave a laugh of sheer delight and reached for her hand. As they got in the elevator, she gave him a moment for his usual check down the hall, though she had stopped asking what he was looking for. She knew he would tell her when he was ready.

"We riding your bike today?" he asked as they passed her bicycle, which was bolted to a pole next to the elevator when they got out.

"Not yet, your seat hasn't come yet," Mouse answered. She had ordered a toddler seat that could be bolted to her bike, but it hadn't arrived yet. Leo was looking forward to this novel mode of transportation.

They walked the fifteen minutes to Washington Square Park in the steaming afternoon sun, getting nice and hot. Mouse found a place to spread out their stuff, and they took off for the fountain. It was medium crowded, even though it was a hot day, simply because it was the middle of the week.

"Okay, what's the rule?" she asked Leo.

"Stay where we can hear each other and see each other all the time, no matter what," Leo chanted, nodding for emphasis when he was finished, flashing her a smile that squeezed her heart.

"Yeah," she said.

Leo took off, with Mouse right behind him, into a spray of water. He squealed as the cold liquid landed on him, holding his hands out to catch the drops. He was wearing swim trunks with whales on them, along with a swim shirt to cut the ultra violet rays. A matching bucket hat covered his head, and it was soon drenched as they chased each other around the fountain.

"Mouse, look how big that upside down U is!" Leo yelled, pointing.

"That's the Washington Square Arch, big guy," Mouse told him. "You're right, though, it does look like an upside down U, doesn't it? It was built to commemorate the one hundredth anniversary of George Washington's presidency, and modeled after a much bigger arch in Paris, called the L'arc de Triomphe."

Leo looked at Mouse in admiration. "You're really smart, hunh, Mouse?" he asked, patting her head where she sat next to him on the edge of the fountain.

"Nah, I just lived by this park for a long time," she replied.

A child walked by eating an ice cream, and Mouse watched Leo watch her pass. "You want one of those?" she asked with a smile. Leo nodded, so they rose, hand in hand, and went looking for the ice cream man. Mouse was wearing a bikini top and denim shorts, so she looked okay either dry or wet, though she wasn't really dressed for entering a restaurant or anything. She had brought a shirt to pull on later for the walk home.

She laughed to herself as she noticed guys staring at her. Normally people didn't look at her twice, but in a bathing suit she was noticeable, because it revealed what she had a tendency to hide.

Even Leo noticed, it seemed. He tugged at her hand when they were waiting in line for their ice cream cones. She bent down to him, and he said, "I think you should wear your shirt you brought for later."

"Why? We're going to play in the water some more, I thought," she said.

Leo was quiet, trying to figure out how to say what he wanted. "Because lots of guys are looking at your front," he finally said, drawing his tiny eyebrows together. "I think they want to be your boyfriend," he concluded, his tone serious.

This made Mouse burst out laughing, so hard she could barely speak when it was their turn to order their ice creams. Leo finally had to tell the man what they wanted, and she just handed over the money, wiping her eyes.

She gave Leo his ice cream, and they wandered over to their blanket and sat down, licking their cones. Mouse watched Leo, the wonderful way his little tongue snaked out to catch the melting white stuff as it slid down the side.

"You know my favorite part about this?" he asked as he licked.

Mouse shook her head.

"We can be messy!" he announced. "We can let dribbles go all over the place! Right?" He looked to Mouse for confirmation. "Cause we're going to get all wet all over again? Like a shower?"

Mouse nodded her agreement, licking her own cone. "You are oh so right, big guy," she agreed. "Just let me know when you're ready," she told him.

"Look at you two Messy Marvins," a voice called as a shadow fell over them.

"Daddy!" Leo shouted, smiling an ice cream smile. "I thought you were working!" He rose, but Mouse pulled him back before he made a mess on Henry's khakis and light blue polo.

"I was, but I knew you guys were down here having a good time, so I played hooky so I could come and watch," Henry confessed, grinning. He knelt on the blanket, a camera hanging from his shoulder.

"Hi," Mouse said, smiling as she finished her ice cream. "How wonderful that you could get away."

"I had a shoot in an NYU building not too far from here," he explained, "and we finished early, so I thought I'd see what Leo was up to. Hope it's okay?"

"Of course," Mouse answered, embarrassed. "Please, any time you want to be with your son." She rose. "In fact, I can go--" she let the sentence dangle. "I have errands I can run?"

"No!" Leo cried. "Mouse, stay! Daddy, tell her she can stay!" He looked between Mouse and Henry, his little features twisted with dismay.

"Leo, stop," Mouse admonished. "You know how hard your daddy works. When he has a little extra time to spend with you, you need to show him that you're happy to be with him, too, right?" She leaned over to look at Leo's beautiful, messy face. "You're with me all the time."

"No, no," Henry interrupted. "I didn't mean to send you away. In fact, I was hoping you and Leo would go play some more so I could maybe take some candids?" He patted his camera. "It's been a long time since I've been outside with him, you know?"

"Are you sure?" Mouse looked at Henry carefully, trying to see any underlying meaning to his words, but he seemed to mean what he said.

"Yes, I'm sure," Henry said firmly.

"He's sure, he's sure," Leo said, tugging on Mouse's hand. "Come on, let's go play some more so daddy can take some photography, okay?"

"Okay," Mouse responded with a laugh.

So they took off to run and splash some more as Henry followed after first kicking his socks and shoes off, keeping his camera as dry as possible, snapping photos of his son as he cavorted. Henry tried to keep his focus on his beautiful son as he ran and played, but he couldn't help but notice his adorable nanny as well. He remembered the night they'd stayed up in the family room talking, when he'd decided to hug her good night, for some mysterious reason. He'd had trouble falling asleep that night, remembering how she'd felt in his arms.

He'd told himself, over and over and over, that this was an absolutely ridiculous situation. He was a fashion photographer, a world-famous one at that, who was in the unusual and envious position of being partial owner of a modeling agency. This was unheard of in the modeling world. Photographers were freelancers, or under contract to magazines. They didn't work for modeling agencies, and they certainly didn't manage them, run them, own them. He had carved out the choicest of niches for himself, and at such a young age, too.

He spent his days surrounded by the most beautiful young women in the world, the most sought after models, the most lusted after flesh. On top of that, he was dating a very beautiful and famous magazine editor who was sought after and all that stuff herself.

So what was he doing having thoughts of his son's plain Jane, college student caretaker? He lowered his camera for a minute, just watching Leo and Mouse play. Mouse had her brown hair in a pony tail that was curling between her shoulder blades and bouncing as she ran. And speaking of bouncing, her very nice bosom, which she usually kept completely covered, was nicely showcased in a cute, polka dotted bikini top that emphasized her straight back and waist, and how it tapered to her slender hips. The women he photographed tended to not have very large breasts, or, like Madeleine, they had been "enhanced" in some way, so that their bodies looked sort of strange, and their breasts were oddly firm and round compared with how angular the rest of them were. Mouse's breasts looked soft and inviting, like the rest of her.

Henry sternly told himself to stop looking at her like that, that it was wrong, that it was more than wrong, it bordered on immoral or something, not to mention being so pathetically cliche. His child's nanny, for crying out loud? Come on, Henry, grow up.

She was laughing at Leo, at something he said, pulling him in for a splashy hug and kiss, which he returned, puckering his pink lips and kissing her on the mouth, starfish hands on her cheeks. Henry managed to get a picture of it, and was glad he did, because he knew it was going to be a good one.

Even her smile was soft and inviting, like her eyes, which were a gentle brown, framed by velvety lashes a few shades darker than her hair. She turned and waved at Henry, and he raised his hand and waved back before he could help himself, loving how genuine her smile was, how genuine she was, all of her.

Henry, stop.

He wasn't going to go there, he just wasn't. He was a thirty-five year old man, a man who had been married, who had already buried a wife, who had a child. He had a girlfriend, and worlds of experience that the young woman he was waving to and smiling at hadn't had yet. She didn't wear make-up, and probably didn't even read the magazines his photographs appeared in. They lived in different universes, and he wasn't going to drag her into his, just because he had the hots for her. He had a wonderful girlfriend, a wonderful life, which was full and complete, without this girl-child in it.

He grabbed his camera and took off after Leo and Mouse, really losing himself in his photography for a while, getting some wonderful shots.

When they finally returned to the blanket, tired out, all three were smiling and exhausted.

"Mouse, I think you forgot to put SPF on yourself," Leo said, concerned.

"Hm? What?" Mouse murmured, her eyes closed.

"Look, you got sunburned," Leo continued, pointing.

"Oh no, I think Leo's right," Henry agreed.

Mouse opened her eyes and looked over at her own shoulder. It was indeed, turning bright red on either side of the bikini strap. She thought back, trying to remember if she'd put sunscreen on herself.

Shit.

She rolled her eyes. "I forgot," she admitted.

"We'd better get you home," Henry said. "Your nose is getting pretty pink, too."

"Is it?" Mouse asked rhetorically.

Leo nodded, features eloquent with sympathy. "You're gonna hurt later," he commiserated, patting her arm.

She sighed, pulling on her shirt, though the damage was already done. Henry was marginally grateful she did, however, since the sight of her in the bikini top was distracting as hell, and he didn't want Leo to notice his errant gaze.

"Daddy, look, you know what that's called? It's called the Arc of Umph," Leo informed his father.

"Oh yeah?" Henry answered, smiling.

The three of them headed for home in the warm afternoon, with Henry gallantly shouldering the bag that held the blanket and their snacks and water.