FRANK ARRIVED AT the Liebermans household in delayed time. It took him only four hours of deciding what to order from the kid's favourite take away menu before he finally found the right food. Sitting in the passenger seat beside him, boxes of steaming tai food rested against the seatbelt, the mild spicy aroma was sure to leave a lasting fragrance to the interior, if the curry spilling on the leather seat backing was any indication.

Frank finds Ophelia on the couch cuddling with Leo, stops and stares in confusion, shuffling his feet awkwardly in the doorframe. One, at why she is in the house to begin with, not knowing about her friendship with Sarah, and two, why she is so close to Leo, who he had assumed wasn't much of an affectionate teenager.

Zach comes down the stairs seemingly unfazed at the interaction on the couch, and greets Frank with a small nod of his head, as he was currently focused on sneaking a pile of dirty dishes down into the kitchen careful not to wake Ophelia in the process.

Frank does a double take of Zach's current predicament, who is shuffling a stack of dirty plates in his arms, trying to quietly manoeuvre himself around the couch. Frank raises his eyebrows, and gestures to the plates. As if noticing his displeased expression, Zach huffs and lowers his head.

"Mum doesn't mind it", he sheepishly states, gesturing to the pile which he has now lifted slightly higher, balancing it on both his wrists, clutching the rim of the bottom plate tightly. Frank shakes his head in slight chagrin, but offers his assistance anyway.

He points to the sleeping pair on the couch. "But she hates it" he whispers, Frank following his gaze and imagining the feud that would start if she were to wake. Somehow, he can't imagine the telling off to be bad, no matter how exaggerated Zach makes it out to be. He has a hard time picturing Ophelia as someone to raise her voice, her and mean-spirited just aren't a feesable pair.

Since Matt was looking after Amy for tonight, he allowed himself a day off from his usual night time routine, instead opting to spend time with the Lieberman children, he might as well take the opportunity while David and Sarah were away. And although he did feel guilty for leaving Amy, he missed spending valuable time with them, and playing fetch with Max too.

Unfortunately, he had to get rid of Max and give him to another owner, his guilt overcame him about leaving his alone for so long during the nights when he was on duty, and he couldn't provide adequate care for the poor dog. He just hoped now that Max had a loving owner who gave him food and lots of pets.

Deciding he was done with mulling over the past, he zoned back in on the present, and helped Zach with the dishes, after promising that they'd have a game of football in the front yard. After that, he'd go back to his apartment to check on Amy.

Knowing the kids were obviously in safe hands gave him a reassured feeling, but he couldn't shake the twinge of sadness at the thought that they no longer needed him. He felt unneeded, seeing as she already knows them better than himself, as apparent by their closeness.

He shook those feelings of unease off and helped them prepare for dinner. Setting the food down on the dining table he unpackaged the takeout boxes and placed them in the middle of the oakwood table, moving the flower arrangement that Ophelia had helped Leo make earlier that day carefully out of the way.

He called everyone for dinner, as they grouped round the table, Ophelia just as surprised to see Frank there as he was to see her. She stops in her tracks awkwardly as she sees him. "Oh - Frank." She blinks. Her eyebrows slope inwards in confusion as she regards him, "I didn't know you were coming for dinner?"

Stifling a yawn, she walked around the bench to get cutlery. She briefly spots an unwashed spaghetti bowl semi hidden underneath a folded newspaper that Zack must have forgot to clean, and narrows her eyes at him in mock annoyance. Zach coughs but pretends not to notice, smiling sheepishly at the floor.

She huffs, albeit in an unthreatening tone. "It's fine if you don't wash your dishes," she inspects the rest of the kitchen, cheeks flushing pink at the messy state of it. Frank guessed she was chiding herself for not cleaning it up in time for a guest, based off of the expression on her face.

She continues, "I mean you'll just get a thousand ants swamping your room, but hey, not my problem if you like that kind of stuff anyway, right?"

Frank grins in mild amusement as Zach's face turns pale, although he rolls his eyes and tries to keep an unaffected attitude. Frank sees the grin on Ophelia's face, and notices how her eyes crinkle at the edges, seemingly illuminating her features tenfold. Maria's smile used to do the same, and it had the same effect on him too. Although, unlike his wife's, he swallowed down this new hint of emotion, wondering how and why on earth it had developed out of nowhere.

He had been effective at stamping out and diminishing any instance of affection since he arrived in Hell's Kitchen. It stood for anyone or anything. But now he was slipping. And he wasn't sure if it he secretly liked it or not.