tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-84310501319514862382023-11-15T10:32:03.535-08:00Imagery contdMichellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01064645653840767072noreply@blogger.comBlogger11125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8431050131951486238.post-3984004857433520012010-08-10T19:42:00.000-07:002010-08-11T13:57:28.735-07:00Chapter ElevenShe was just opening the door when the phone rang. Quickly she shut the door behind her and reached over to grab the cordless off the hallway table.<div><br /></div><div>"Hello?" She was already out of breath and couldn't believe it. Was she really the same girl who used to run regularly?</div><div><br /></div><div>"Vanessa. It's Jimmy Deakins. How are you doing?"</div><div><br /></div><div>Shocked, actually, she thought. She hadn't seen Jimmy since that day in the office, when she had packed up her box. Despite her intention to go by the office on a regular basis, she had stayed away. It was too difficult to consider visiting when she still missed it so much. "Okay," she answered him. "I've been meaning to come by, but it just hasn't worked out."</div><div><br /></div><div>"I understand." She swore she could hear him smiling through the phone. "Actually I was wondering if you might be able to swing by tomorrow morning, say nine?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Maybe." Bruce had found her and was rubbing his head against her leg, looking for affection. "Why? What's up?"</div><div><br /></div><div>There was a pause for a moment. "Well, I thought we could talk tomorrow, but I guess now is fine...the brass wants you back."</div><div><br /></div><div>She heard her own gasp, and then Deakins' chuckle. "It's no joke, Vanessa...we have more cases around here than we can handle. Another profiler in here would make a huge difference. Things have calmed down enough that we can hire you back, part time...I know you're pregnant and I thought that might work well, considering."</div><div><br /></div><div>She made her way over to the couch and collapsed on it, feeling Bruce jump up and lay next to her. "So let me get this straight...you want me to come back part time now because the brass has finally figured out they need more people to solve cases? Are you fucking kidding me?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Yes. And no," he cleared his throat, "I'm not kidding."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Fine. I'll see you at nine tomorrow."</div><div><br /></div><div>She heard him chuckle. "Great. Nine, then."</div><div><br /></div><div>The line went dead, and she turned off the handset. Rubbing Bruce's head, she said, "Well, boy...maybe I won't be so bored after all."</div><div><br /></div><div>*********************************</div><div><br /></div><div>"Absolutely not. This is insane. I can't believe he even talked to you about this without mentioning it to me first!" She didn't remember ever seeing Bobby this irritated. He was pacing the bedroom in his boxers and a tee-shirt, and if he hadn't been so frustrated, she would have considered laughing.</div><div><br /></div><div>"Okay, Dad," she teased him. "Next time I'll have the boss talk to you first."</div><div><br /></div><div>"That is not funny, Vanessa...I thought we had already talked about this and come to a conclusion. Didn't we just discuss this a few weeks ago? How profiling right now wouldn't be a good idea for you?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"No," she clarified. "You gave an opinion about how you felt about me profiling while I'm pregnant. We didn't come to any kind of mutual agreement."</div><div><br /></div><div>He crossed his arms and leaned against the chest of drawers. "So you think it's a good idea for you to be working with rapists and murderers. I can see how that would be perfectly safe for a woman who's twenty-two weeks pregnant."</div><div><br /></div><div>She pulled her legs under her. "I think it's a good idea for me to be doing something...and yeah, working would qualify."</div><div><br /></div><div>He shook his head vehemently. "This isn't something I'm going to compromise on, Beth. The answer is no--it's not safe for you or for the baby."</div><div><br /></div><div>She felt her face flush, angry. "Well, fortunately for me, I have control over my body and what I do with it, Bobby. If I want to work, I'll work. You don't get to tell me what to do. You're not my father and as much as you like to think so, you're actually no smarter or insightful than I am. I think I can make reasonable choices for myself. I always have before."</div><div><br /></div><div>"This is our baby you're talking about, Vanessa! Our child! The one that we conceived, together. What are you going to do if a perp goes off the deep end and injures you? What if something happened that caused you to miscarry? Is that a chance you're willing to take?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"I don't know, Bobby! What if I fell down on the subway? What if I got mugged? What if a fucking toilet seat fell on my head?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"That's a show," he said wryly, "a fucking tv show."</div><div><br /></div><div>"The point is," she clarified, "that you don't have any guarantees."</div><div><br /></div><div>"But you can take calculated risks...and while you're pregnant, the risk is much greater."</div><div><br /></div><div>Now her arms were crossed, legs were crossed, eyes staring him down. No doubt, she was pissed, more than he could remember her being in a long time. But it was worth it, if it changed her mind. Instead, though, she said, "You don't get it. Every day you go to your job with your badge and your gun. You deal with rapists and murderers and kidnappers and the worst of the worst. Like this baby doesn't need a father. So it's okay for YOU to take risks during my pregnancy but not me? Even when my risks are relatively minor?" She shook her head. "I don't carry a gun. I don't ride alone. Hell, I'm never even alone with a perp...there's always at least a uniform with me. I'd have more of a chance of being harmed working at the coffee shop than in the office."</div><div><br /></div><div>He stared at her for a long moment before moving over to the bed and sitting next to her. "Ness," he said, this time more calmly, "the reality is that this baby is in your body. That stress or other environmental factors can cause damage to the fetus. We both know that. The last thing you need to be doing right now is looking at crime scene photos, smelling decomposing bodies, interrogating violent people." He looked down, at her burgeoning belly, then back to her face. "Please, honey...please consider what I'm saying. I know it's not...not what you want to hear and the way--the way I've said it probably left a lot to be desired. I'm sorry. But...but...the thought of this...of what could happen..."</div><div><br /></div><div>She watched him now, eyes moving from hers back to her belly, then closing, tears in the corners. He had given her everything, couldn't bear to tell her no. Everything she asked of him, he gave to her freely. He always had. From the time he had first taken her under his wing, he had vowed to be her protector and confidante, friend and lover. And in that moment, she suddenly realized that denying him what he seemed to need so desperately came no easier to her than it would have come to him.</div><div><br /></div><div>"Bobby." Her hand reached out and took his from the mattress, leading it to her stomach. She held it there, against the soft skin. "If it bothers you this much, I'll tell Deakins no. At least until she's born."</div><div><br /></div><div>His eyes opened slowly. He looked sad, weary; it was a look she had rarely seen on him, and she realized how upsetting this conversation had been to him. How afraid he was of losing her, of losing them. Afraid enough to argue firmly and thoroughly with her. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I just can't...I can't risk it."</div><div><br /></div><div>She nodded, understanding his fear. "Okay. I won't do it for now."</div><div><br /></div><div>"After...after she's born...then, maybe--" He pulled his hand away from her stomach and rubbed his face, then the back of his neck. "Yeah...maybe then."</div><div><br /></div><div>*************************</div><div><br /></div><div>They lay in bed, side by side, not speaking and not touching.</div><div><br /></div><div>He didn't know for sure that she was still awake, but he thought she probably was. She didn't sound as though she were asleep. Her breathing hadn't evened out, she hadn't rolled onto her side the way she usually did.</div><div><br /></div><div>He truly regretted their argument. She was right, of course, in the fact that he had come off sounding like she was his child. He had always sworn to himself that he would never treat her as though she were somehow less than himself. She had experienced enough of that before they ever met. But the thought of her going into the office and running the risk of harm to herself or their baby wasn't something he could accept.</div><div><br /></div><div>He was ashamed of how he had acted, ashamed of how much he needed her, and embarrassed that she knew. He had figured a long time ago that she knew how attached he was to her, but it was completely different to have it wear on his face, his words like that. He knew she acquiesced to him out of pity, and that hurt almost enough to make him change his mind. Almost.</div><div><br /></div><div>He felt her shift in the bed. "Bobby."</div><div><br /></div><div>He didn't answer her. He didn't know what to say.</div><div><br /></div><div>She repeated herself. "Bobby...you didn't read to her tonight. You always read to her."</div><div><br /></div><div>Now he rolled over, facing her. "I wasn't sure you'd want me to."</div><div><br /></div><div>She forced a smile. "Of course I do...she would want you to...she just can't tell you yet."</div><div><br /></div><div>Reluctantly he reached over and turned on the lamp, then picked up a copy of Where the Sidewalk Ends. Flipping through, he found the page where he had left off, and began to read.</div><div><br /></div><div>After a moment, she interrupted him. "Bobby."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Yeah?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"You usually put your head near my belly." Sensing his hesitation, she continued. "Babies can sense that, I think...you know, when you're close like that."</div><div><br /></div><div>He sighed. "They can probably sense massive fights between their parents, too."</div><div><br /></div><div>"All the more reason," she said softly.</div><div><br /></div><div>He moved closer to her belly, then began to read once more. Two poems in, he began to rest his hand on her belly, and when he finished, he kissed her, near her navel. "I love you, sweetie. You and your mama, both."</div><div><br /></div><div>Vanessa reached down and ran her fingers through the mass of dark hair on his head. "She knows that. So do I."</div><div><br /></div><div>He pulled his body up next to hers, close. "Do you?" he asked. "Do you know how much I love you? How much I need you? How my life would be over without you and this baby?"</div><div><br /></div><div>He heard her swallow, hard. "I know that's what you believe."</div><div><br /></div><div>He shook his head. "We've both had enough loss--"</div><div><br /></div><div>She cupped his face in her hands. "Yes. And we don't need to think about that right now." She continued to stroke his hairline, from his forehead to his ears, and somehow it was comforting to him. "I'm safe, Bobby. The baby and I are safe...you don't need to worry. We're fine. God has blessed us with this baby and the three of us will be a happy family in--what?--four months?"</div><div><br /></div><div>He closed his eyes again, focusing on the gentle pressure of her thumbs moving against his temples. "I need you, Beth...sometimes I don't think you know how much I need you."</div><div><br /></div><div>"I know."</div><div><br /></div><div>"How?" His eyes opened, plaintive. "How do you know?"</div><div><br /></div><div>She smiled softly. "Because I need you too...I need you just as much." She pressed her lips to his forehead, then pulled him against her body. His large frame pressed against her small one; one arm hooked around her possessively while the other hand came to rest on her growing belly. He lay quietly until he heard her breath even out, deep and rhythmic, and a few minutes later he joined her in a deep, comforting sleep.</div><div><br /></div><div>*****************************************</div><div><br /></div><div>He sat next to her on the subway and purposely focused on keeping his foot still. He knew it drove her nuts, how he tapped like that. Nervous energy. He couldn't recall a time he hadn't had it, but guessed he might have developed it as a child. Dodging pots and pans and angry parents and all that. It had literally kept him on his toes, made him hyperaware. It was, ironically, a huge talent that contributed to his high success rate. </div><div><br /></div><div>He couldn't help but watch the car carefully now, with her sitting next to him. He wondered if his anxiety about keeping them safe would ever subside. How great would it be to have a father who was so worried about you that you couldn't leave the house? He'd have to get over this. </div><div><br /></div><div>She was holding his hand. Despite their horrendous argument the night before, she had been sweet this morning, even affectionate toward him. He took it to mean she had forgiven him, forgiven his words and what she had to have read as doubt about her. He was still somewhat in awe of the fact that she had agreed not to work. For him. She had given something up for him; something she found important and precious and part of herself. And the guilt of his request was making him sick.</div><div><br /></div><div>He'd never before asked her to give up anything. When he married her, he had vowed to give her the world. "You're everything." He had told her that, so many times both of them had lost count, and he hoped she believed it as much as he knew it to be true. The fact that he was demanding something of her--something this big, this important--didn't sit well with him. Not at all.</div><div><br /></div><div>He had awoken early--four a.m.--and left the bed to pace. Back and forth, across the living room, in front of the couch. Thinking of probabilities. How often, or not, cops were injured. How likely, or not, she could be hurt during the next four months at work. Was he being reasonable? Was he being fair? Whose interests was he really protecting--their unborn child's or his own? Could he live with his own demands? What if she had asked him to do this? Would he have been willing and able?</div><div><br /></div><div>He still didn't know the answers. She squeezed his hand, gently, and he squeezed hers back, a silent reminder of how much he loved her. Love, he thought. What was it about setting them free? The comparison stuck with him. She was, in his opinion, like a beautiful bird, capable of spreading her wings and flying anywhere, achieving any height, going any place in this world. And he was clipping her wings.</div><div><br /></div><div>The train stopped and she stood up slowly. It seemed her waist had expanded quite a bit over the last week, and she was struggling a bit with the equilibrium. He kept a hand on her back, to guide her through the crowd and keep them together. She looked back at him and smiled. He knew how it worried her, that they would get separated.</div><div><br /></div><div>Usually they took the stairs but today he guided her to the escalator and they rode up. He half expected a protest, but he didn't get one, and he realized that she was coming to terms with her rapidly changing body. The doctor had said the baby should be moving any time now, and she had told him that occasionally she felt a squirm. A wiggle. He was anxious for the time he would be able to feel her for himself. He remembered one time when Eames was far along in her pregnancy and Nate seemed to be constantly moving. She had sighed heavily and wished for the moving to cease; when he asked her if it was really that bad, she had grabbed his hand and rested it on her abdomen. He was amazed at the movements he felt through the thin cotton of her blouse, the ripples and wiggles and even a tiny footprint. He had looked at her in surprise and she had smiled tersely at him before reminding him that he could pull away and she couldn't. But something in her eyes had let him know she didn't want to pull away, and wouldn't miss a second of Nate's wiggling for the world.</div><div><br /></div><div>They emerged in the sunlight of the early spring morning, and she caught his hand as they made their way up the street. He started to pass the coffee shop by the office but caught a glimpse of longing in her eye, and decided to stop. She was hesitant, but then a shy smile crossed her face and she followed him quickly inside. He ordered for her--a decaf latte and a piece of coffee cake to go--and shortly, they were on their way again.</div><div><br /></div><div>They entered the lobby and waited for the elevator in silence. She had since dropped his hand in favor for her coffee. He didn't mind, given it was their workplace and he still needed to appear professional. The ride up was quick and he held the door for her. She smiled back at him, then proceeded toward Deakins' office. She was almost there when the words formed in his throat.</div><div><br /></div><div>"Rayden--" he didn't know why it came out that way except maybe from habit, "--wait."</div><div><br /></div><div>She turned around, a look of surprise taking over her eyes. Those almond shaped eyes he was so sure he would see on their daughter. </div><div><br /></div><div>He reached her quickly and guided her toward the wall. "Look, maybe I'm wrong."</div><div><br /></div><div>She shook her head immediately. "Bobby," she said, low, "we discussed all of this last night. We agreed--"</div><div><br /></div><div>"No." He stood stiffly, awkwardly. "I demanded and you acquiesced...I don't know if I can live with that."</div><div><br /></div><div>Her eyes were seeking out his, and after he tried to find something else to look at, he finally met hers. "I didn't do this for you," she said softly. "I did it for us. All of us."</div><div><br /></div><div>He exhaled through his nose, heavily. "You're going to resent the hell out of me for this someday. I'm keeping you from doing what you love, what you're good at. I have no right to do that."</div><div><br /></div><div>Her left hand went to her mouth and she began biting her pinky nail. "I won't resent you, Bobby. You're trying to be a good father and a good husband. There's nothing to be resentful for."</div><div><br /></div><div>He looked over her, into Deakins' office, then his eyes met hers again. "Maybe there's something that can be worked out...some way we can both feel good about this..."</div><div><br /></div><div>She pulled her hand away from her mouth, then said, "You want to join us?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Yeah, maybe. Unless you don't want me to."</div><div><br /></div><div>Deakins' office door had opened and he had appeared, grinning at Vanessa's back. "Hey there, you three," he greeted. "Vanessa, you ready?"</div><div><br /></div><div>She turned to face her old boss. "I think so...if it's all right, Bobby is going to join us...I think we need to hammer some things out, you know, what's best for the baby and all in this."</div><div><br /></div><div>Jimmy nodded. "Sure. Come on in."</div><div><br /></div><div>He followed her into the captain's office. If it was this hard before she was even born, he couldn't imagine what the rest of his life would entail.</div>Michellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01064645653840767072noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8431050131951486238.post-7090386893166150672010-08-10T11:42:00.001-07:002010-08-10T19:42:02.518-07:00Chapter TenShe didn't think she'd anticipated Bobby's return from work like this in months. Apparently, everything Ava had told her about hormones raging crazily was true, because ever since she had woken up this morning all she could think about was sex. He had been on his way out the door, looking better than ever in his olive suit (at least in her opinion), but he had stopped to kiss her gently before he departed. She couldn't tell if he read more into the kiss than usual, like she had wanted him to, but he had smiled at her, winked, and told her he'd be back that evening.<div><br /></div><div>All day long she'd been trying to distract herself with tasks. Cleaning the kitchen (remember his creativity with whipped cream that time?) or the bathroom (long, leisurely soaks in the double jacuzzi tub on the weekend), going to the market (the time she had tortured him by whispering the naughtiest things she could think of in his ear throughout the entire trip), even stopping at the coffee shop for a decaf cup (how many times had that been their afterplay?)--it all reminded her of him and of making love with him. She finally decided she'd indulge in a new bra, and maybe panties to match. For a millisecond she wondered if he would think that was less than sexy, considering her pregnancy, but decided he'd roll with it. He always had. She had figured that she could pretty much show up in anything and her husband would find her attractive, the same way she found him.</div><div><br /></div><div>She had taken her time, torn between sensuality and practicality, and finally settled on a smooth champagne set. She wasn't a big fan of lace and remembered the day he had revealed how much he liked her underthings because they were less lacy than most women's. Despite the fact that it was a reminder he had been sexually active with many (many many?) women before they got together, she had been relieved and slightly pleased that his thoughts were along the same line as hers. The demi bra fit perfectly and she chose a high cut bikini to go with it. She knew he had a thing for thongs, but God, she couldn't stand them. And this purchase was as much for her as it was for him, she reasoned. Besides, he wasn't going to be walking around with cloth floss up his ass when all was said and done.</div><div><br /></div><div>It had been a long day. She had texted him, letting him know what he was in for, and he had responded with a short "Can't wait". She hoped he meant it.</div><div><br /></div><div>Maybe part of her sudden desire had to do with their first ultrasound--the pictures, the entire experience, had been nothing short of amazing--and when Dr. Anushki had assured them that everything was fine, she had felt liberated. Bobby had studied the photos carefully, had watched the film as though it were a case, until he could point out the heart, the head, and every identifiable body part without the tech's assistance. She knew he had taken the photos to work, to share with Eames and Deakins and anyone else who might want to know. His first reaction had been the same as hers. An intake of breath, a stare of amazement; then he had said, "beautiful" in the most reverent voice she'd ever heard him use. She had turned to him, then turned back to the tech, and asked if everything was okay. The tech had passed that on to the doctor, who had reassured them both that the little girl was fine.</div><div><br /></div><div>A girl. She hadn't dared breathe it, didn't want to jinx her hopes, especially after everyone had been so certain she would have a boy. But they were having a daughter. Suddenly her fantasy of a little girl with dark brown curls and big brown eyes was a complete possibility. And she knew Bobby was thrilled. He hadn't even had to speak. It was all in his eyes.</div><div><br /></div><div>She had spent a lot of time daydreaming in the last few days about him and their little girl. Maybe those daydreams were fueling her libido. She always found it incredibly heartwarming and sexy to see the way he interacted with children; he was sweet and loving and so, so gentle. LIke he understood them in a special, almost magical, way. It made her wonder what he was like as a child and wish she could have known him, known if he was as sweet and innocent and loving as she imagined he was.</div><div><br /></div><div>She had changed into her new purchases and then covered herself with a satin robe he had bought for her at Christmas. She'd not had a robe since her rock star days, and was truly surprised when she opened it. He had grinned delightedly, almost wickedly, at her surprise, before suggesting she put it on. And please don't ruin it by putting it on OVER anything else, thankyouverymuch. She had no idea robes could be so...interesting...until Christmas.</div><div><br /></div><div>She checked the clock. It was almost seven. She knew he'd be hungry when he got home, but she was hoping he'd understand and take care of her first. God knows she had been patient. She'd been counting the hours--almost twelve of them now--and it was torturous waiting for him. She was about to text him again when she heard the key in the lock. She stood up nervously from the couch. What the hell was that about--why was she nervous with her husband, for God's sake? By the time she realized it was because this wasn't her usual approach, he was standing in the room a few feet away from her.</div><div><br /></div><div>"Well...it looks like you've had a long day," he teased, eyes wandering up and down her.</div><div><br /></div><div>"Yeah, I guess you could say that." She stepped closer to him. "I have a surprise for you...but you have to unwrap it." She held out the edge of the tie of the robe, and he took it carefully in his hands, then tugged the thin material so it fell open.</div><div><br /></div><div>A second later he emitted a low whistle. "Pregnancy suits you," he told her, "almost as well as that bra."</div><div><br /></div><div>She smiled. </div><div><br /></div><div>He continued to look shamelessly, taking his time. "It's been a long day for me too," he said offhandedly. "I got this text around ten this morning telling me I was going to have my mind blown tonight, along with a few other things..." He shook his head. "Hard to concentrate after that."</div><div><br /></div><div>'I guess so," she commented. "That wasn't very thoughtful of someone to text you something so...explicit...especially so early in the morning."</div><div><br /></div><div>He exhaled heavily, eyes focused on her body. "You have no idea."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Trust me." She slipped the robe off, tossing it to the chair. "If anyone has an idea, it's me."</div><div><br /></div><div>His eyes finally ran up to her face, meeting her own, and he smiled. "When do I get to take something off?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Right now," she assured him, leaning in to quickly undo his tie, and feeling his hands wander over her ass, let her mind wander into all the places she'd been resisting all day.</div><div><br /></div><div>**********************************</div><div><br /></div><div>"Hey...Ness--" he was panting, as desperate as she was, but nervous. "Slow down...we'll get there...think of the baby."</div><div><br /></div><div>She was moving on top of him quickly, fiercely. God, the wait had been worth it. It always was. He read her like a book; he never disappointed. He was beautiful and strong and pleased to let her lead, especially tonight. But she knew he worried. She wished he wouldn't. "Trust me," she gasped back, "it's all fine...she's fine...I'm really fine...you're super fine, and I do mean that, Goren...God I mean that right now..."</div><div><br /></div><div>His hands were moving up and down her body, lingering on her breasts. So beautiful. He couldn't help but focus on them, want them, pull her body down to kiss and suck and nibble on her nipples. He heard a low moan escape her throat as she continued to rock rhythmically against his thrusts.</div><div><br /></div><div>He debated, briefly, about flipping her over. Under his weight, there was no way she could writhe so quickly on him, so firmly. He could drive. But she had already come twice, and he was hesitant to mess with whatever this was, working for her. Her last orgasm had happened just after he had let her be on top. Every glimpse of her face reminded him of her complete thrill, how good she felt, and she was beautifully sexy.</div><div><br /></div><div>They had always enjoyed an intimate and pleasurable sex life. Even from their first time, when he took his time and let her lead, it had been incredible. A mix of love and affection and intense pleasure. He'd never had that mix before. But this was different, even for her. He was used to her sudden swings in desire--he had them too, and she was more than accommodating most of the time--but three orgasms? In ten minutes? Was there something in the water?</div><div><br /></div><div>That moan, that continually soft moan in the back of her throat, he knew she'd been serious about wanting it all day. Enough to actually go to the lingerie store and buy that getup. She was lovely in it, and he had enjoyed it, but truthfully he would have enjoyed it just as much if she had been buck naked. It all came off anyway, and within the first five minutes.</div><div><br /></div><div>She had pulled her breasts away from him and was now reaching above him, holding the headboard with both hands. Her face was flushed, eyes closed, head back, as she moved quickly and beautifully over him. God he was hard. His hands caught her hips, trying to slow her down, to drag out the inevitable, but she would have none of it. Her eyes flew open and she leaned her face down toward his. "Bobby," she hissed, "don't stop it...please...God, I need it."</div><div><br /></div><div>So he didn't. He gave up and joined her, his thrusts hard and quick inside her. He closed his own eyes, feeling the tightening in his belly, his groin, wanting to, needing to...his hands clutched her as he drove upward and it overtook him, the heat and the pleasure and the shuddering contractions. "Beth." It was raspy and needy and all hers.</div><div><br /></div><div>She moved quicker than before, and somewhere in the back of his consciousness he knew she was climaxing again, and he felt even sexier knowing she had come again, with him, so quickly.</div><div><br /></div><div>She was lying on top of him, completely spent. Finally satisfied. This was so not her, begging for it and demanding it like this, pushing him to be faster and harder and acting so dominant. She couldn't believe she came three times. The first had happened as soon as he entered her; she had cried out loudly, startling them both, and he had asked if she was all right. "Oh God," she had told him, "I'm the best I've been in a long time...God, whatever you do, please don't stop, Bobby. God." And she had ground her hips firmly against him, fully enjoying the thrill of her climax as he had begun to move slowly inside her and suckle on her neck.</div><div><br /></div><div>His eyes were closed now, one hand resting on her lower back. She could hear his breathing starting to slow and become more steady. She wondered if he had enjoyed it as much as she had or if he had just been satisfying her.</div><div><br /></div><div>"Was it okay?" she asked softly, and she felt his hand wander up her back to her hair.</div><div><br /></div><div>"Amazing." His mouth curled into a knowing smile. "Pretty good for you too, huh?"</div><div><br /></div><div>She was embarrassed. She knew he knew, and during, it hadn't seemed a big deal. But now she felt like some sort of sex addict.</div><div><br /></div><div>As if on cue, he caught her face in his hand. "I'm so glad it felt good...so glad you feel better now...you deserve it." His finger lingered over her lips for just a moment. '"I don't think there's anything more beautiful in the world than watching you come."</div><div><br /></div><div>Her face buried into his chest. "Thanks," he heard, muffled. "You're the best."</div><div><br /></div><div>He smiled to himself, tracing random designs over her bare back. "Anything I can do to help," he teased, then wrapped his other arm around her, enveloping her in a hug. "Really, anything."</div><div><br /></div><div>*****************************************</div><div><br /></div><div>"Okay, so hold still...I've almost got it..." Bobby was aiming the camera at her belly, and she was trying desperately not to roll her eyes. He had read in some book about documenting the growth of the uterus every week and thought it would be a really great addition to the baby's scrapbook. She, however, was less than thrilled to have her bare belly photographed weekly over the next six months. He took three shots with the digital before saying, "Do you think we should try the recorder...just a couple minutes each month...it might make for an interesting video..."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Uh, no." She lowered her shirt, unsure as to whether she or the baby would be more mortified by his project in years to come. "You do realize that looking at my naked belly, scars and all, is absolutely horrific to me?"</div><div><br /></div><div>He looked up from the camera, surprised. "Um...you-you look really beautiful, you know, in these--" He brought the camera to her and handed it over. "Look."</div><div><br /></div><div>Unconvinced, she peered at the image on the screen. Yep. Her with her shirt up. Slightly mounded belly. That was them, all right. And you could still see her scars. Damn.</div><div><br /></div><div>"So what are you going to tell her when she asks why I have huge scars on my stomach?" She hadn't intended to ask the question, but she really hated this project, and maybe it would deter him a little bit.</div><div><br /></div><div>"Well," he said, then cleared his throat. Obviously this conversation was making him nervous. "I guess, I guess I figured she would have asked long before she saw this in the book...I don't know...we've never talked about it but I just figured it wouldn't be a secret--"</div><div><br /></div><div>She felt the tears coming to her eyes. "What? That some psychopath attacked me?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"No!" He shook his head. "Ness, come on, you have to know that's not what I meant...I guess I just always thought that she would have seen them all her life so it wouldn't be a big deal...when she asks, I guess...I think it should be up to you...I guess I would just tell her that somebody hurt you, but they're gone now and can't hurt you any more."</div><div><br /></div><div>That was much more logical than she cared to believe him to be. She roughly wiped away her tears. "Oh."</div><div><br /></div><div>He grabbed a tissue and led her to the couch. "Hey...here." Carefully, delicately, he wiped the tears from her face. She opened her eyes when he finished, and he was smiling at her. "Hi there," he said.</div><div><br /></div><div>"Hi."</div><div><br /></div><div>"It's okay, you know...it's all going to be okay."</div><div><br /></div><div>"We have no idea what we're doing." She felt the tears coming back.</div><div><br /></div><div>"I know. But we're figuring it out." He carefully wiped another tear from her cheek. "You know how I'm sure you'll be a great mom?"</div><div><br /></div><div>She sniffed. "How?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Because I know you want to be...more than anything. And I've seen you with kids...you're great. And you love this baby, and you read almost as much as I do." At her look of surprise, he said, "I can tell when you've been looking at my books...I don't have to be here all the time to know that."</div><div><br /></div><div>"What if I screw this up? What if I end up being like my dad? I'm his kid too. I have so many issues that I'm reduced to tears just by the thought of her asking about the scars on my abdomen."</div><div><br /></div><div>"You're not being fair to yourself. Those scars represent one of the most traumatic things a person could experience...it's only normal that you would have tremendous anxiety about how to tell your daughter about them." He shook his head. "We'll have lots of things to figure out...how to explain all of our families, our jobs, ourselves...but we're smart and we want to do the right thing and I think we'll figure it out, baby."</div><div><br /></div><div>She sighed. "You have a lot of faith in us."</div><div><br /></div><div>"So do you. You've stayed. For nearly three years."</div><div><br /></div><div>She smiled softly. "I can't imagine my life any other way. You're the only one who's ever understood me...you're my best friend." She took his hand in hers and pressed it against her belly. "Baby makes three, I guess."</div><div><br /></div><div>His hand ran over her slowly. "Sometimes I wonder about her...what she's feeling, what she's doing...do you ever wonder?"</div><div><br /></div><div>She laughed. "Maybe a little...but probably not like you."</div><div><br /></div><div>He lay his head on her shoulder. "Yeah, I'm weird that way, I guess."</div><div><br /></div><div>"No, not weird...just thoughtful."</div><div><br /></div><div>"I can't wait until she starts to move."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Me either." She leaned her own head against his, resting quietly. Sometimes the companionable silence they shared was as wonderful as anything else.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Michellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01064645653840767072noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8431050131951486238.post-41916862293037256462010-08-09T18:01:00.000-07:002010-08-10T11:36:33.921-07:00Chapter Nine"You want anything? Soup? I can have her bring you a basket of crackers...maybe some bread..."<div><br /></div><div>She sighed. "Okay. Bread." </div><div><br /></div><div>He ordered a side of bread for her, to go with her juice and water. He'd been impressed at how quickly she'd given up caffeine. That alone was a huge sacrifice, but one Dr. Anushki had praised earlier. He had gone over dietary guidelines, physical fitness guidelines, sleep and stress guidelines. Bobby found himself nodding along, remembering what had been published in the books he'd read. No more pizza and beer on Friday nights, no more of those iced mochas she loved. He had already been working in the kitchen all weekend, trying to come up with new recipes for smoothies and cookies that she might enjoy. After his third attempt at a decent cookie with less sugar, she politely shook her head. "I appreciate your effort, baby, I really do," she had said, "but it's just not an option for me right now." Discreetly she had spit the cookie into a napkin and he had sighed.</div><div><br /></div><div>Dr. Anushki had been thorough with their questions. After an examination, lots of questions, measurements, and a sonogram, he had told them their baby was ten weeks along. Ten weeks. He could hardly believe they were a quarter of the way there. They had made appointments to follow up and for the ultrasound. He was so excited it was hard to stay calm. She, however, was much more subdued. If he hadn't been so sure she wanted this, he would be wondering about second thoughts.</div><div><br /></div><div>The waitress brought his club sandwich and her bread. Despite her protests of nausea, she quickly tore the bread apart and began to eat.</div><div><br /></div><div>"You feeling better?" He took a bite of his sandwich.</div><div><br /></div><div>She nodded her head. "A bit. I think I was stressed out about all the spotting...but since he says it's not abnormal, I feel better." She took another bite. "Hopefully he's right and the nausea will pass in a couple more weeks."</div><div><br /></div><div>He smiled. "Can you believe you're almost to your second trimester? How the hell this snuck up on us like this I'll never know."</div><div><br /></div><div>"I have a weird body." She paused for a second and lay the bread back down on her plate. He was watching her carefully and knew something was up. "I guess I was really starting to worry...you know, that maybe the assault had caused damage they didn't realize...being stomped in the abdomen probably isn't the best thing if you're hoping to get pregnant sometime."</div><div><br /></div><div>He shook his head. "There's nothing weird about your body...nothing that isn't typical of other women. And as far as the assault...the doctor thinks everything is fine...he's reviewed your records. You trust him, right?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Yeah, I trust him." She picked up a piece of bread and began to tear at it again. "I guess I just worry. I worry that something could happen, or maybe all these tests are wrong..."</div><div><br /></div><div>He caught her hand. "Our baby is going to be fine...perfect...ten fingers, ten toes...your beautiful face, your incredible brain..."</div><div><br /></div><div>She snickered. "Oh yeah, I forgot how lacking your own brain is. And you do realize this child will look like you as well?"</div><div><br /></div><div>He shrugged.</div><div><br /></div><div>She smiled at him, eyes looking dreamy. It was an unusual look for her these days, and he couldn't help but smile back. "I'd love to see your hair on this child...I can only imagine a little girl with your curly hair and big brown eyes...how beautiful she would be...and so smart..."</div><div><br /></div><div>The waitress arrived back at the table. "Can I get you two anything else?"</div><div><br /></div><div>He knew they were making horrible googly eyes at each other. That they were the cliche picture of two people in love, who couldn't live without each and would never dream of doing so. "No," he told her, finally dragging his gaze away from his wife to look at the waitress. "We're perfect over here." The waitress shook her head and left the table.</div><div><br /></div><div>"You embarrass me," she told him, but her eyes and her smile said something completely different.</div><div><br /></div><div>"That's okay. It's my job." He grabbed a bite of her leftover bread and ate it with relish while she laughed softly, shaking her head.</div><div><br /></div><div>*****************************************</div><div><br /></div><div>"Ten weeks, huh? What the hell brand of pregnancy test were you using again?" Ava was changing Tristan's diaper.</div><div><br /></div><div>"Don't ask." Vanessa sat on the bed, watching her sister and the squirmy baby. "So how long did the nausea last for you?"</div><div><br /></div><div>Ava finished snapping the onesie closed, then picked up her son. "Eh, just the first trimester or so...then the sex set in."</div><div><br /></div><div>"What?"</div><div><br /></div><div>Ava rolled her eyes. "Do you know anything about this process at all?" Seeing Vanessa's blank face, she said, "Look, maybe you should read some of those books your husband brings home. It's pretty normal for your hormones to go all over the place during pregnancy. A lot of women have...well, stronger desires...during the second trimester. You're done with the nausea, usually, the baby is growing and your body is changing and it's all exciting...and boom, you're feeling pretty hot."</div><div><br /></div><div>Vanessa glanced down at herself. So far she could distinguish a tiny pudge in her middle, but it could have very well come from a few too many brownies or pizza. She didn't exactly think that she would use the word "hot" to describe herself, though.</div><div><br /></div><div>"Its okay," Ava sat down next to her, passing Tristan over. "Soon enough you'll want to bitch slap him as soon as he gets within five feet."</div><div><br /></div><div>Vanessa made a face at Ava. "You're just a fucking ray of sunshine, you know that?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"I'm just trying to give it to you like it is. And anyway," she replied, checking her watch, "I have to go pick up Justin from school. Come with or stay here with Tristan? Or do you need to go?"</div><div><br /></div><div>Vanessa held Tristan up and blew on his belly. He laughed. "We'll go with you. Is Justin happy at his school?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Of course...he's the king of kindergarten. He thinks he's the big guy around here, now that he's in school."</div><div><br /></div><div>After they picked up Justin, they stopped for lunch at a local cafe. Vanessa held Tristan while Ava helped Justin order his lunch. </div><div><br /></div><div>"So you like turkey and cheese?" she asked him after he placed his order.</div><div><br /></div><div>"Yes...tuhkey is a good pwotein, Auntie Ness. It makes your muscles stwong." He took a sip of his milk. "Twistan can't eat yet but when he can eat, he's going to eat pwotein too."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Guess what?" Ava interrupted him. "Auntie Ness is going to have a baby."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Ohhh!" Justin's eyes got big. "When's he gonna come out?"</div><div><br /></div><div>Vanessa put her diet coke back down. "Not for a long time, Justin...the baby has to grow for quite a while still."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Probably this summer," Ava told him. "You'll be swimming and Auntie Ness will be sweating and pushing her baby out."</div><div><br /></div><div>Vanessa rolled her eyes. "Thanks for the image. I think you've scarred all of us. How about you, Tristan?" she said, snuggling her smallest nephew. "Did your mommy just scar you?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Oh please," Ava responded, waving a hand dismissively. "Justin probably knows more about the birthing process than you do."</div><div><br /></div><div>Vanessa glanced at her five-year old nephew, sipping his milk quietly. She didn't doubt it.</div><div><br /></div><div>They ate their lunch in pleasant conversation. Justin talked about how much he liked kindergarten, who his friends were, and what they did during the day. Vanessa found herself listening more avidly than she had in the past. Justin was a smart kid, and a happy kid. As much as she and Ava had their differences, Vanessa really did admire her sister's ability to parent. When Justin talked, Ava payed full attention to him; she talked with him, looked at him, treated him respectfully. Vanessa didn't recall either of their parents being so attentive.</div><div><br /></div><div>"How'd you learn to do that?" she asked Ava when they got back to her house.</div><div><br /></div><div>"Do what?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"You know...be such a good mom...listen to your kids..."</div><div><br /></div><div>Ava thought for a moment. "I made a conscious decision I wanted to do better. And then I took classes and read and talked a lot to David." She was quiet for a moment. "Sometimes it's hard. When Justin gets really mad and tells me he hates me, or Tristan has been crying for what seems like forever, I feel like I'm terrible. But I just keep remembering that's part of all of it, and I'm doing okay. David is great too. He always tells me I'm a good mom, and he pitches in a lot." She glanced at Vanessa. "Something tells me you won't have any problem with Bobby helping you. I think he'd carry that baby for you if it was possible."</div><div><br /></div><div>They both laughed, knowing it was probably true. </div><div><br /></div><div>"Nessie," Ava said a minute later, as she lay Tristan down in his playpen, "it's going to be harder for you guys because neither of you had a normal childhood. You need to talk about what normal is, what it looks like, what you want it to be for your baby. Bobby has no more idea of what it is than you do. You need to make sure you're on the same page."</div><div><br /></div><div>"He's going to be a great father," Vanessa said defensively.</div><div><br /></div><div>Ava shook her head. "I never said he wouldn't. All I said is that life with a schizophrenic mother and an addicted father isn't normal. His ideas of normal and your ideas may be different, and you need to figure out what you guys want and expect of each other, and for that baby."</div><div><br /></div><div>She knew Ava was right, knew that she and Bobby grappled with the idea of normalcy on regular days, in their adult lives. She felt a sudden pang of guilt in her stomach. How the hell would they ever give this baby a normal life when they couldn't even recognize it? What the hell were they thinking?</div><div><br /></div><div>She felt Ava touch her arm, and she turned toward her. "Hey," Ava said, "I did it and you guys will too. I just don't want you setting yourself up for failure, you know?"</div><div><br /></div><div>'Yeah. I know." </div><div><br /></div><div>She gathered her things. "I guess I should get going...I've got some errands to run."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Really? With no job, you're so busy?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"No," she admitted, "so I make up stuff to get done each day...and today I'm going to the market to buy the ingredients to make eggplant parmigiana."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Oh...I see. Bobby's favorite. You're going to cook him dinner. That's what you're doing with your life now...cooking Bobby dinner and growing a baby." Ava began to pick up the random toys around her living room.</div><div><br /></div><div>Vanessa spun around and glared at her. "Uh, no. Bobby is making ME dinner. I happen to enjoy his eggplant very much. My job is to focus on growing the baby...just as, apparently, YOUR job is to focus on being a mommy to your two little boys."</div><div><br /></div><div>Ava sighed loudly. "When did this happen to us?"</div><div><br /></div><div>Despite wishing she had no idea what her sister was talking about, she knew. She knew, exactly. "I don't know...for me it happened when I lost my job. For you? Maybe when Tristan was born?"</div><div><br /></div><div>Ava raised an eyebrow at her. "You should record again. That's not too taxing, and the NYPD has nothing to do with it."</div><div><br /></div><div>"I'll keep it in mind." She grabbed her keys. "Thanks for lunch...tell Justin I enjoyed seeing him."</div><div><br /></div><div>"I'll let him know. And if you have any questions about the baby, call and I'll put him on the phone."</div><div><br /></div><div>They both grinned then. "See you later."</div><div><br /></div><div>"See you."</div><div><br /></div><div>***********************************</div><div><br /></div><div>"You look like the nausea's gotten better," he commented, watching her eat a second helping of the eggplant. "That's good."</div><div><br /></div><div>She stared at him. "What?" Her voice was accusatory. "Are you trying to tell me I'm overeating or something?"</div><div><br /></div><div>He snorted. "Relax...like I care how much eggplant you eat. You're feeding my baby anyway, so eat away. This kid is going to know its Italian roots." He sat back and took a long drink of his wine. "I appreciate you picking this stuff up, but you know it's not necessary...I could have done it, or you could have called a service..."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Yeah...I could sit on my ass for the next seven months and be a human incubator."</div><div><br /></div><div>He was swirling his wine, something she'd never seen him do before, and examining her closely. "You're a little testy tonight."</div><div><br /></div><div>"And you're putting on airs." She pointed her fork at him. "It's a sad day when I have to find excitement in picking out eggplant at the market."</div><div><br /></div><div>He smiled empathically and put his wine glass down. "I'm not trying to put on airs. Sorry. I know you're bored...I just don't want you to feel like you have to do things if you're not feeling up to it. Two weeks ago you were really sick, and even yesterday you were still picking at your food..." He rested his head in his hand, elbow on the table. This was the Bobby she knew. "Honestly, I miss you at work. A lot. I keep looking at your office and feeling empty when you're not there."</div><div><br /></div><div>She pushed her plate away. "Me too. I miss it. I miss it every day. Two months now and I'm still banished. You know what Ava said today? She said I should start recording again."</div><div><br /></div><div>He picked up his wine glass again. "Does she know that you've been doing that all along? Doesn't she remember that's why you bought this place instead of the little cottage she wanted you to have?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"I think she means professionally...that's a little different...I haven't tried to make any contacts or get anything released in God knows how long."</div><div><br /></div><div>He began to swirl his wine again, but this time it was out of concern. She could read him easily now, as he did her, and the worry on his face was clear. "Are you considering that?"</div><div><br /></div><div>She shook her head. "No. I haven't been...and I don't want to now, not with a baby on the way. I'm just bored." She stood and picked up her plate. "It's just hard to have your job yanked out from under you. It was easier when I gave it up on my own, you know?"</div><div><br /></div><div>He looked up at her. "Yeah." He watched her scrape the plate, then rinse it and put it in the dishwasher. "Do you want me to talk to Deakins again...see if maybe there's something else they'd let you do?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Something else?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Well...even if they wanted you back as a profiler, do you really think that would be wise? Ride alongs, all the stress, the unpredictability of some of the perps...I don't know that it's a good idea with you being pregnant."</div><div><br /></div><div>Her arms had crossed, and he braced himself for the torrential response he knew would be coming his way.</div><div><br /></div><div>But all she said was, "I'm pregnant, Bobby, not dying."</div><div><br /></div><div>He was wisely quiet, following her to the dishwasher and putting his plate inside. Together they quietly cleaned the kitchen without conversation. As she finished wiping off the countertop, he caught her hand. "Hey...I know you're completely capable and competent, and I would never say or try to imply anything else." He tugged at her shirt hem. "I miss you. Every day. I'm so sorry about this."</div><div><br /></div><div>She let go of the sponge and turned to face him fully. "Yeah, me too." She hooked her thumbs in his belt loops, as was her habit, and looked up at him. "I miss you too. Sometimes life sucks...I guess that doesn't ever change."</div><div><br /></div><div>He pressed his forehead against hers. "Guess not," he said, "but at least if it has to suck, we can be together."</div>Michellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01064645653840767072noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8431050131951486238.post-18113326904951977732010-08-08T00:52:00.000-07:002010-08-09T13:42:12.612-07:00Chapter EightVanessa clutched the toilet again, letting the last bits of her breakfast fly into the bowl. For someone so used to vomiting so easily, this was miserable. She thought she was going to die. <div><br /></div><div>Ava brought her a glass of water and a wet washcloth. "Are you sure you're not knocked up?" she asked. "Because both times I got pregnant I started barfing almost immediately."</div><div><br /></div><div>"No," she moaned. "I took another test just three days ago. And I started last night. I'm not pregnant...I'm just sick."</div><div><br /></div><div>Ava made a face as Vanessa retched into the bowl again. "I can't believe Bobby left you like this today. Hasn't he heard of for better or for worse?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"I told him to go," she groaned. "He got called in at four this morning. Being a detective isn't like being an interior designer, Ava." She took the wet washcloth and pressed it on her own forehead, then squinted at Ava. Tristan was watching her from his kangaroo pouch.</div><div><br /></div><div>Ava sat on the toilet seat. "Are you gonna lay in here all day? Is there still anything in your stomach?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Ahh...God...no, I don't think so." She pulled herself up slowly. "I need to get into bed."</div><div><br /></div><div>Ava followed Vanessa to the bed and watched her climb in. "Are you hot? Are you running a fever? Maybe you should go to the doctor. If you're really sick, I'm not sure I should be here...Tristan could get sick."</div><div><br /></div><div>Vanessa rolled over, pressing her hot face against the cold pillow. "True," she moaned. "You can go...I'll be fine."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Have you been barfing for more than a day or so?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"No...just today...but I was nauseous yesterday."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Does it get better after you puke? Have you tried crackers to settle your stomach?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Yeah, it's better...I'll call you later. I'm sorry I'm no good today."</div><div><br /></div><div>Ava sighed heavily. "I still think you're knocked up. You should go see your doctor. You know, you can be pregnant and still test negative. You can even get your period--"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Thanks, Dr. Winters...I appreciate the diagnosis."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Yeah, whatever. Call me if you need anything and your husband doesn't show up."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Mmph." Vanessa listened for Ava's departure, then closed her eyes and let sleep overtake her.</div><div><br /></div><div>***********************************</div><div><br /></div><div>"Hey." Bobby was shaking her. She lifted her head quickly. God, she was tired. And nauseous. "Ava called me. She said you're really sick."</div><div><br /></div><div>"No...I'm not really sick...I just threw up. And I'm tired...I'll be fine." She waved him away. "Go back to work."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Nope. Here, I made you some soup...some crackers. See if you can keep it down." He waited patiently for her to sit up and take the soup from him. She did so and dutifully took several spoonfuls before munching on a few crackers. He watched her eat. "So...maybe the test is wrong."</div><div><br /></div><div>She shook her head. "You forget...I've got my period at this very moment. As we speak."</div><div><br /></div><div>"I still think it might be good to go to the doctor."</div><div><br /></div><div>"You talked to Ava."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Yeah, maybe. Maybe I just think we should be sure."</div><div><br /></div><div>She put the bowl on the nightstand and finished her cracker. "I'll keep it in mind."</div><div><br /></div><div>"I would consider it a personal favor."</div><div><br /></div><div>"You're paranoid."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Maybe I'm just hopeful."</div><div><br /></div><div>She snorted. "I think most people would call that delusion, not hope."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Well, whatever." He brushed some cracker crumbs off the bed. "Look at it this way. If you're not pregnant, the doctor can probably give you something to help with the nausea of whatever you have...and I'm sure that would make you feel a lot better."</div><div><br /></div><div>"I said I'll keep it in mind. I'm just tired now...I'm going to take a nap, if it's all right with you."</div><div><br /></div><div>He nodded. "I'll call your doctor and wake you up when it's time."</div><div><br /></div><div>She sighed. "You do that."</div><div><br /></div><div>******************************</div><div><br /></div><div>"So when exactly did the nausea start?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Yesterday morning." Vanessa knew she sounded like a robot but she didn't care. </div><div><br /></div><div>Bobby chimed in, "Her nausea...it started yesterday morning after breakfast...she ate a little through the day but began vomiting sometime in the night. She was able to keep a small bowl of soup and a few crackers down this afternoon. She's mainly been sleeping, but doesn't seem to have a fever."</div><div><br /></div><div>Vanessa rolled her head to look at his. She felt like a child, unable to answer for herself.</div><div><br /></div><div>Dr. Ramirez looked up from her notes. "And how long have you been trying to conceive, now?"</div><div><br /></div><div>Vanessa sighed heavily, but Bobby answered, "Four months...the home tests have all come back negative."</div><div><br /></div><div>The doctor nodded, then turned to Vanessa again. "Any other symptoms? Headache, diarrhea, constipation, achiness?"</div><div><br /></div><div>Vanessa shook her head. "My poop is fine, thanks for asking."</div><div><br /></div><div>"She's just trying to help, honey." Bobby reached over and patted her knee. She really did feel like telling him to shove it, or at the very least, to stop touching her. The patting was just over the top.</div><div><br /></div><div>Dr. Ramirez smiled wryly. "Have I mentioned how happy I am to see you today, Vanessa? I'm going to do a brief physical exam. It's possible you have a mild stomach virus. But I'll go ahead and run the blood test to see if everything is normal. It will also tell us if your white blood cells are normal."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Great...so what do I need to do?"</div><div><br /></div><div>Now Ramirez grinned. "I'll get Brenda in here to take your blood, then I'll be back to check you out."</div><div><br /></div><div>Brenda was quick and friendly, taking the couple vials of blood and leaving with a smile. A minute later, Dr. Ramirez entered the room again. "Just sit up and relax...I'm going to listen to you."</div><div><br /></div><div>Bobby sat patiently, watching Dr. Ramirez check his wife thoroughly. This was his first time meeting Dr. Ramirez, and he liked her. He knew Vanessa had been seeing her for quite awhile and trusted her. </div><div><br /></div><div>When she finished, Dr. Ramirez turned to Vanessa and said, "Everything looks good from all other angles...your breathing sounds good...I don't see any signs of infection anywhere. Your stomach is...well, grumbly...but that's all I've heard, and that could be due to a lack of food, or to a mild GI illness. I'll go check with Brenda to see if your blood tests are finished...or at least the one we're waiting for." With a smile, she left the room.</div><div><br /></div><div>A silence settled between them. Vanessa was still tired and wished she were in bed. When Bobby had woken her up for this appointment, her first instinct had been to tell him he was nuts and to leave her the fuck alone. She took a deep breath and exhaled, trying to lessen the stress she was feeling and the undeserved irritation.</div><div><br /></div><div>To his credit, Bobby didn't speak, but sat quietly in the extra chair next to the examination table. She knew he really did have her best interest in mind. Any other guy she had ever dated would have dropped her off outside the office if he bothered to do that at all. It's why she gave up dating once she got clean. No men she ever seemed to attract were worthwhile. Bobby was a different breed, she reminded herself, as she watched him interlacing his fingers and bouncing his knee up and down. </div><div><br /></div><div>Finally she said, "I just don't want you to get your hopes up...like we've talked about, it can take a long time...and you know me. I throw up at the drop of a dime."</div><div><br /></div><div>He looked at her thoughtfully. "Well," he responded, "I-I think it's good to be sure." She could see him swallow under his collar and tie. "Don't you?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Sure." Her eyes hurt. They were so tired. And she could feel her stomach rolling around in total discomfort.</div><div><br /></div><div>Finally Dr. Ramirez entered the room again. "Well," she said, looking first at Bobby and then to Vanessa, "I have the results back of your initial blood tests." She pulled her stool up and sat across from both of them. "Your white cell count doesn't look elevated at this time. That's good news...it generally means you don't have an infection. It doesn't rule out a mild GI virus, but it does rule out anything more significant." She paused, before looking at Vanessa. "We did run the blood test for pregnancy, and it came back positive."</div><div><br /></div><div>The first thing she heard, after the blood rushing through her ears, was Bobby exhaling heavily. "You're sure...I've had my period..."</div><div><br /></div><div>"It's been light...and that sometimes happens." Dr Ramirez handed her several pamphlets. "This is just some reading material I've gathered for you. I'm assuming you have an obstetrician you'll want to see?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Yes," she replied, "Dr. Anushki--"</div><div><br /></div><div>Dr. Ramirez nodded. "He's terrific. You need to make an appointment as soon as possible." She glanced at Bobby. "I know you guys have been trying for several months, and while it's unlikely that you're too far along, there's always the possibility."</div><div><br /></div><div>Bobby started laughing. "Hey, you could be on that show...you know, 'I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant' or whatever."</div><div><br /></div><div>She shook her head. "I think I'm gonna puke."</div><div><br /></div><div>Dr. Ramirez handed her a pail, and said, "Dr. Anushki will be able to tell you exactly how far along you are. He'll run some tests." She turned to Bobby again. "It's possible that she does have a mild stomach bug as well. Nausea and fatigue are typical of early pregnancy, but can also be part of illness. Just let her rest as much as possible for right now. Hopefully she'll get in to see Dr. Anushki next week."</div><div><br /></div><div>He nodded, looking serious. Vanessa knew he was trying to memorize everything she was saying to him. The nausea was subsiding but, given the opportunity, she would lay down on the damn examination table and take a nap.</div><div><br /></div><div>Dr. Ramirez patted her knee gently. "I'll see you soon, Vanessa...you guys take care." And then she was gone.</div><div><br /></div><div>Bobby guided her off the table and out of the room. After taking care of the bill, they walked outside to hail a cab. He held the door and she climbed in, still silent.</div><div><br /></div><div>As he sat next to her, being careful to give her room, trying to be the caring, compassionate man she loved, she leaned over and rested her cheek against his shoulder. She didn't say anything, but she didn't need to.</div><div><br /></div><div>He caught her hand in his, and they rode silently back to the condo.</div><div><br /></div><div>**********************************</div><div><br /></div><div>She was sleeping soundly in their bed. He figured she deserved it, after spending most of the night before with her head in the toilet. </div><div><br /></div><div>He was excited. He was going to be a dad. Not only a dad, but the dad of her baby. He remembered when he had first fantasized about that. It had been a few months before they got married. They had been jogging in the park, and a family had caught his eye. A dad, a mom, and a baby--all in love with one another. He saw it in their eyes, and it had made him wonder if his own parents had ever looked at him with that same love and adoration. When he had turned his attention back to her, she was jogging place and smiling at him. And it had been clear, in that moment, that he could have that life. The one he had always thought wasn't possible for him. A life that included the woman he loved more than anything and a baby that they conceived together.</div><div><br /></div><div>He hadn't told her how much he thought about it, but he had laid awake at night, imagining what their baby would look like. What it would be like to hold their baby, rock it, fall in love with someone they created together. Created out of love and passion. He would lay awake imagining looking at their child with the same expression he had seen that day in the park, the expression of a father who was clearly smitten with his own child.</div><div><br /></div><div>He knew that for him, Vanessa would always be the one. Like his other half. She was smart and lovely and creative and funny. She was better than him, perfectly matched. That God had intervened and connected them was nothing short of miraculous. And she was pregnant now. His baby. Growing inside of his wife. It took his breath away.</div><div><br /></div><div>He ran through a mental list of people to contact. His friends, most of whom were single, quirky, or maybe not as close as before his marriage; their friends, which he didn't want to tell without her; coworkers, which seemed to be strange people to call at eight o-clock at night to share such news. A year ago he would have called Eames, but not now. She had only been back to work for a couple of months and something about her still felt shaky. He hated having secrets from her. He'd never had them before.</div><div><br /></div><div>That left family, and there was no way in hell he was going to call Ava and tell her she was right. That was Vanessa's job. So his family was left, and that quickly narrowed the list of calls down to one. His mother.</div><div><br /></div><div>He hadn't spoken to her that day. Usually they spoke in the evening, or if he had a few minutes at work while he was on a case. A quick check-in, they called it, and most days it went fine. He wondered if his mother would share his enthusiasm. She had often said, not so tactfully, that she was waiting for a grandchild to visit. Maybe she would be excited by the news, he convinced himself. Maybe it would be exciting for her. He dialed the number, and waited for the nurse to put him through.</div><div><br /></div><div>She answered the phone in her typical tone. It never got past him that she was a New Yorker through and through.</div><div><br /></div><div>"Hey Ma," he said, "Sorry I'm a little late calling...it's been a busy day."</div><div><br /></div><div>"I can imagine..." she replied. "How many cases are they making you work today?"</div><div><br /></div><div>He was picking at his nails nervously. Forty-five years old and his mom still made him nervous. "I had to work a case this morning...then Vanessa wasn't feeling well, so we went to the doctor. That's really why I'm calling."</div><div><br /></div><div>"What, is she contagious?" God bless her, he loved her dearly, but she had absolutely no tact whatsoever.</div><div><br /></div><div>He coughed. "Um, no. I was calling to let you know you're going to be a grandmother. Vanessa's pregnant."</div><div><br /></div><div>He could hear his mother catch her breath. "Oh my God, Bobby! That's wonderful! How far along is she? Is she okay? You know, we always have boys on your dad's side of the family...so it's likely you'll have a boy. Is she able to come to the phone?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"She's fine, Ma. She's resting...she's been pretty tired...the doctor thinks she might have a mild stomach bug too. She goes to the obstetrician on Tuesday. That's when we'll know more."</div><div><br /></div><div>"I can't believe it," she gushed. "I'm going to be a grandmother. I always figured it would be your brother instead of you, but I'll take it however it comes. That baby will be beautiful with a mother like that. You remember to treat her well. You treat her like a goddamned princess, Robert, you hear me?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Yes...yes, Ma...I will. I have to go now and check on her, but I wanted you to know."</div><div><br /></div><div>"You're made my night, Bobby...I'm so thrilled. You tell that beautiful wife of yours to call me soon."</div><div><br /></div><div>"I will, I will. I love you, Ma...I'll see you Sunday."</div><div><br /></div><div>He hung up the phone gently. That had gone better than he had thought. It was so difficult for her to give him anything he needed. Maybe this baby would bridge some gaps.</div><div><br /></div><div>He made his way to the bedroom and stripped his clothes down to his boxers, then through on a tee and flannel bottoms. It was chilly in the bedroom. He glanced at Vanessa, who was curled up in one of his oversized t-shirts and sleeping soundly. He couldn't help but smile. She was even beautiful when she slept. </div><div><br /></div><div>Carefully he climbed into the bed with her and adjusted the sheets and blankets. A minute later he felt her head snuggle closely to his chest. He wrapped an arm around her and smiled, thinking of the fact that there were three of them now sleeping in this bed.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Michellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01064645653840767072noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8431050131951486238.post-43259247222423523322010-08-07T16:09:00.000-07:002010-08-08T00:51:58.457-07:00Chapter SevenWhen she got home, the lights were off in the condo, except for one small table lamp, enough to let her know her husband was already home.<div><br /></div><div>She grinned to herself, then turned off the lamp and wandered through the hallway to the bedroom, where she could see light under the door. Slowly, she opened it, revealing several lit candles around the room and her husband, in his black tee and jeans, barefoot, sitting in the armchair.</div><div><br /></div><div>"Hey, beautiful," he greeted her, and motioned for her to join him. </div><div><br /></div><div>She kicked off her shoes and slowly made her way to the armchair. He grinned before reaching for the clip in her hair and unfastening it. "How are you today?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Good," she told him. "Very, very good."</div><div><br /></div><div>He chuckled, low, and pulled her closer on his lap so that she was straddling his legs, then reached over to the end table. "I brought you something. Want to see?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Sure." He opened the box and revealed several pecan pralines, her favorite. "Aha," she giggled, "You're seriously trying to romance me."</div><div><br /></div><div>He was smiling as he unwrapped one and broke the corner off. "Open up, baby." She opened her mouth and he slid the praline onto her tongue. She closed her mouth and her eyes at the same time, letting the candy melt and the flavor take over her taste buds. </div><div><br /></div><div>"So good," she said softly. </div><div><br /></div><div>Now he chuckled. "Yeah. In a little bit, you'll be saying that again." His eyes permeated hers, deep and dark, and he kissed her, still staring at her. "Over and over again, Beth..."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Promises, promises."</div><div><br /></div><div>He leaned forward to kiss her, taking his time to enjoy the softness of her mouth and the taste of pralines on her tongue. His hands ran down her back slowly, then up to her shoulders, before pulling her closer and indulging in a long, sensual kiss.</div><div><br /></div><div>She knew he had listened to her. He was incredibly thoughtful and took his time, hands and mouth and body working in sync to excite her. She thought they were ready, but he pulled away from her grip and teased her some more, the way he had done early in their marriage, over and over, until she could think of nothing other than the blissful relief that would come with intercourse. She wrapped her body around his, whispering commands, then directives, then soft requests until he finally acquiesced to her.</div><div><br /></div><div>As amazing as the anticipation was, nothing was as good as being pressed against him, covered by his body, moving in rhythm with him. He was right, and she told him so, moaning, "So good, so good, Bobby..." until he was groaning softly with her in agreement and they clutched each other in passionate pleasure.</div><div><br /></div><div>After, when he gently moved off of her, she kept one hand wrapped around his neck, ensuring he wouldn't go very far. She pulled him back, close to her, and whispered, "You know you don't have to move so fast..."</div><div><br /></div><div>He nipped her ear. "I thought you liked it when I moved so fast..."</div><div><br /></div><div>"You're hilarious. You know what I mean."</div><div><br /></div><div>He pushed her sweaty hair out of her face. "I'm a hundred pounds heavier than you...I'd hate to squish you into nothing."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Heh. I'll let you know if I start to go numb."</div><div><br /></div><div>He was smiling and leaned to kiss her on the mouth, then kiss her again. "Three more nights of this," he whispered. "Did you feel goal oriented?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Yes, but it was a different goal."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Good." His hands were wandering over her again. "You remember what I told you...the contractions help the semen move into the uterus..."</div><div><br /></div><div>She snorted. "Or I could stand on my head."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Whatever works."</div><div><br /></div><div>She shook her head. "Why don't you put that sassy tongue to better use?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"If you insist..." He winked at her. "Remember, we don't have to have a goal in mind..."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Yeah," she sighed, "I got it."</div><div><br /></div><div>***********************************</div><div><br /></div><div>She sat on the toilet, staring at the stick, trying to contain her disappointment. Granted, it was their first time around, but she had been so sure they'd get pregnant right away. For sure, they were super active. God knows if there had been any possibility of her ovulating and his swimmers reaching a fertile egg, they would have done it. And that thought just worried her more.</div><div><br /></div><div>She heard him knock softly on the door. "It's been three minutes..." There was a pause before he said, "It's okay if it's negative...we should have expected that...it's just the first time."</div><div><br /></div><div>She turned the door handle, opening it, and he came in. She handed the stick to him and sighed. "I guess I was more goal-oriented than I thought."</div><div><br /></div><div>He sank down against the wall, sitting across from her. "You said yourself it could take awhile for you to start ovulating regularly."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Yeah, but I didn't mean it."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Ness..."</div><div><br /></div><div>"So now what?"</div><div><br /></div><div>He shrugged. "We mark the calendar and repeat the process, right?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"I guess. Something like that." She took the stick back from him and tossed it in the trash. "Anything that's going to give me such bad news shouldn't be so expensive."</div><div><br /></div><div>"I told you to let me get the multipack."</div><div><br /></div><div>"I thought it would be positive." She rested her chin in her hands, elbows on her knees.</div><div><br /></div><div>He reached over and rubbed her calf. "I know you did...and it will be, eventually. Try to think of all the fun we'll have making this happen."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Right. Somehow I'm not so horny right now."</div><div><br /></div><div>"That's okay...you've got about two and a half weeks to get there again."</div><div><br /></div><div>She snorted, then stood up. "I guess I need to add tampons to the list for the store after all."</div><div><br /></div><div>*******************************</div><div><br /></div><div>"Wine or no?" David held the bottle over Vanessa's glass. She held up a hand.</div><div><br /></div><div>"I'll pass this time, but thanks anyway." David nodded and refilled Bobby's glass, then Ava's. Vanessa sipped her water, then turned to Ava. "So how did you get Justin to sleep so early?"</div><div><br /></div><div>Ava smiled knowingly. "Early to rise and a super short nap makes for a tired preschooler." She picked up her wine glass, then said, "He's easy to go down, always has been, though, so he was out by seven."</div><div><br /></div><div>David smiled wryly as he took a bite of his chicken. "Ava knows all the tricks." He chewed and swallowed, then said, "I hear you two have decided to start a family."</div><div><br /></div><div>Bobby and Vanessa glanced at each other, then Vanessa shot Ava and nasty look. Ava held up her hands. "He's my husband...surely you didn't expect me to keep secrets from him."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Actually, yes, we have." Bobby nodded in assent and smiled. "We're looking forward to getting that positive test, aren't we?" </div><div><br /></div><div>Vanessa felt sicker than she had when David had first mentioned it. "Yeah..."</div><div><br /></div><div>Ava shook her head. "You're too impatient, honey. It takes time. God, David, how long did it take us with Justin? A year or so?"</div><div><br /></div><div>David put his fork down and nodded. "Something like that...talk about killing the romance..."</div><div><br /></div><div>Ava chuckled, putting her glass back down. "Yes, that became the whole focus of every moment alone during that year, didn't it? Totally focused on the goal at hand." She looked at Bobby. "I know that's hard to believe."</div><div><br /></div><div>Bobby didn't answer her. He kept eating his dinner.</div><div><br /></div><div>"And then, once Justin came, all our time was invested in him. No more time alone. It's not like we got to rebuild the romance we had lost." David shook his head.</div><div><br /></div><div>"Hmm." Ava was chewing on a roll now. "It's amazing we still have sex."</div><div><br /></div><div>"God!" Vanessa exclaimed. "I'm trying to eat here."</div><div><br /></div><div>Ava shook a finger at her. "You need to know what you're getting into. It's not any kind of picnic...once you're pregnant you'll be sick all the time and gain weight. Your boobs will hang down to your stomach, which, by the way, will never look the same again. And don't think you'll get off easy," she said, turning to Bobby. "She'll be hot all the time and won't be able to sleep. One week she won't be able to get enough of you and the next week she'll act like you have the plague. Then when the baby comes, you'll be replaced. He'll be attached to her boob. You'll be changing diapers and feeding and rocking and dressing and bathing. And by the time he's able to do any of that for himself, you'll get knocked up again." She drained her wine glass as Bobby and Vanessa stared at her. "Welcome to parenthood."</div><div><br /></div><div>"I-I think we're only planning to have one," Bobby stuttered slowly.</div><div><br /></div><div>"Ha," Ava returned, "I've heard that before."</div><div><br /></div><div>Just then Tristan began to cry, and David stood up. "I'll get him." He left the dining room.</div><div><br /></div><div>Vanessa turned to Ava. "Why are you drinking if you're nursing?"</div><div><br /></div><div>Ava shook her head. "I'm not. Call me selfish, but I couldn't do it a second time past the first couple months. It's too fucking demanding. It's like you're an on-call restaurant, 24/7. It's awful. It's uncomfortable. He cries, and I lactate. It's gross. I've finally dried up," she noted, motioning toward her breasts. Suddenly she elbowed Bobby. "You better get over it," she told him. "I hear your partner's pregnant and due any time. She'll be leaking all over the place."</div><div><br /></div><div>Bobby refused to look up, a deep crimson coloring his cheeks. "Eames will take care of it," he mumbled. Ava and Vanessa looked at each other and grinned.</div><div><br /></div><div>David reappeared with Tristan and a bottle. He tilted him into the crook of his arm and began to feed him, then tried to continue to eat his dinner. </div><div><br /></div><div>Suddenly Bobby turned to David. "I'm done eating...I can feed him while you finish."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Sure?" David passed Tristan to Bobby. "Just stick him in your arm, at the bend, and stick the bottle in his mouth...he'll do the rest." </div><div><br /></div><div>Bobby followed David's directions and Tristan quickly settled down, making soft sucking sounds. Vanessa watched the two of them and couldn't help but smile. She noticed Bobby was smiling too, watching Tristan eating. Ava elbowed her suddenly.</div><div><br /></div><div>"That's why," she nodded toward Bobby and Tristan. "That's why you go through all of it...because when you look at them and they're so sweet like that, you feel all warm and gushy inside. Hey Bobby, you're a natural...you can come feed my baby anytime."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Thanks, Ava." His voice had just a touch of sarcasm to it, but was overwhelmed with gentleness. The baby was beautiful and continued to take his bottle easily for several minutes. They all quietly watched him until he finished.</div><div><br /></div><div>"Here," Ava said, taking him from Bobby. "I'll burp him. Trust me, you don't want that part...you look and smell too nice." She tossed a rag over her shoulder and lay Tristan on it, patting him firmly.</div><div><br /></div><div>They spent the rest of the night playing with a wide-awake Tristan, snuggling him and rocking him and making him giggle. Even Ava laughed at their enthusiasm over her son.</div><div><br /></div><div>When they left, David walked them to the door. "Hey," he said, low, more to Bobby than to Vanessa, "don't let her scare you off. Having kids has been great. Ava's a great mother." His eyes met Vanessa's briefly, then he turned back to Bobby. "It's all good, man. Once you get used to it, anyway."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Thanks for dinner." Bobby shook David's hand and they left the house, neither saying anything.</div><div><br /></div><div>***********************************</div><div><br /></div><div>"He's beautiful, Eames." Goren was sitting next to her hospital bed. Her family had finally left the room, going to gather in the newborn nursery and spend some time with the baby and his parents.</div><div><br /></div><div>He held her hand. It was impossible to say why he felt the need to do that. Since he and Vanessa began seeing one another, he had been extremely careful to avoid any unnecessary touching of his partner. He avoided it for both of their benefits; it hadn't been such a big deal for people to gossip about their close relationship when they were both single, but he didn't want either Eames or Rayden to get hurt because he carelessly touched Eames' shoulder or held her hand. But now...it was something in her face, in her smile. He had seen the same look on his wife before, the brave smile that delicately covered the pain underneath.</div><div><br /></div><div>Eames let out a shaky breath. "Yeah, he's perfect. Ten fingers, ten toes...Liz and Tony are really happy. Did you see them? He does look like them. It's funny how he could have come out of me looking like them." She was rambling. He let her, figuring it kept her focused on the part she could manage.</div><div><br /></div><div>"Liz looked really happy."</div><div><br /></div><div>Eames nodded. He kept holding her hand. "Did you see his hair? A full head, already. I guess that's typical for Tony's family. That's where he would have gotten all that dark hair. It sure didn't come from us." She forced a light chuckle. "It really wasn't that bad. You'll have to tell Vanessa...she needs to make sure to ask for drugs. I told them they could give me anything that made it easier, as long as it didn't hurt him. Five hours and it was over...it really wasn't bad at all." She tugged at the sheet covering her small body. "They said I should be home tomorrow."</div><div><br /></div><div>He cleared his throat. "Vanessa said to tell you she'll be by when you get home. I think she didn't want..." He was going to say that she didn't want to take any time away from Alex and Nathan being together but caught himself. "Well, she was worried you might be tired."</div><div><br /></div><div>"It's not too bad...what time is it, seven or eight? Home is a good time to visit too...but I'm glad you came by...I really wanted you to see him." The smile on her face cracked just a tad. "He's what I left you for, anyway."</div><div><br /></div><div>He was still holding her hand. "It's nine. I guess they'll be by to check on you soon."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Yeah. Meds and all that..." Her hand absently ran over her belly, now deflated. "But tell Vanessa it's a piece of cake. You guys will do great as soon as it's time."</div><div><br /></div><div>He smiled at her, hoping she couldn't read the pity he was holding back. If there was one thing she couldn't stand it was people feeling sorry for her. He heard the clicking of heels behind him, and turned to see Eames' sister Liz standing behind him, beaming.</div><div><br /></div><div>"You doing okay?" she asked her sister, then turned to Bobby. "I'm so glad you could come by. Alex tells me you and your wife are considering starting a family."</div><div><br /></div><div>He wanted the floor to swallow him up, to take him and Liz's comment far, far away, to spare Eames the pain of having to think about what he might share with Rayden, what Eames would never have with Joe. But Eames continued to beam at him as though this were Christmas, and so he nodded at Liz. "Yes, we are." He patted Eames' hand once as he let it go, then stood. "I guess I'll leave you to rest. But congratulations." He smiled at Liz, then back at Eames, whose eyes were now brimming with the tears she had been holding back, and he knew if he tried to stay to comfort her she'd kill him. So he just told her, "He's beautiful....we'll see you soon."</div><div><br /></div><div>He tried to imagine giving up a child. He thought of the woman he had dated overseas so many years ago, the one he had considered marrying, and tried to imagine how he would have felt if he had learned she had become pregnant and given their child up for adoption. But he knew he couldn't grasp it. He couldn't begin to imagine the gift Eames had given her sister, nor the sacrifice she had made. </div><div><br /></div><div>The hesitation he had felt at fathering a child now seemed a million years ago. He knew Vanessa's biological clock was ticking, and he felt the pressure too. He must have done the math a million times, figuring out how old he would be when this kid graduated high school, or college, or got married, or had a child. He was forty-five. He wanted to be fair to their child. He didn't want to be confused with being the kid's grandfather.</div><div><br /></div><div>Maybe this month they'd get lucky. If they did, he'd have to figure out a gentle way to break it to Eames. He couldn't stand the thought of hurting her. He'd never figured he'd have something so special in his life that Eames might be jealous of it. Of course, he'd never figured he'd have his wife.</div>Michellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01064645653840767072noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8431050131951486238.post-15880578461068073542010-08-07T14:19:00.000-07:002010-08-07T16:09:18.132-07:00Chapter Six"Hey," he said as he entered the bedroom. She was lying in bed watching television. Some crime drama. Same as the last three days.<div><br /></div><div>"Hi," she replied, keeping her eyes on the television. </div><div><br /></div><div>He hung his jacket up in the closet and sat down on the corner of the bed, petting Bruce. He hesitated to speak, but felt the need to anyway, and before he could stop himself, he had started. "So how was your day?"</div><div><br /></div><div>Now she looked at him, a look that read 'Are you stupid?', before responding, "Fine...and yours?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Okay. I missed you." </div><div><br /></div><div>She didn't answer, but had gone back to watching television. He knew this was incredibly hard on her. She wasn't meant for a life of nothing. "I was wondering if you might like to go out to dinner tonight," he said, catching her hand in his.</div><div><br /></div><div>Her eyes moved to their hands, and he saw what he knew he would: the tears, filling her eyes, that had been erratic but frequent over the last several days. "Not tonight," she whispered. "I'm just not able."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Okay." He stood and pulled all his clothes off and climbed into bed with her. </div><div><br /></div><div> She looked surprised for a minute, then said, "Do you want to do it or something?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Only if you do. Actually, I just wanted to be with you. I woke up wanting that and I've wanted it all day."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Bishop on your nerves again?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Not particularly. I just need you."</div><div><br /></div><div>Her face was doubtful for a moment, but he kept looking at her, until she finally met his eyes. And she read them, telling her it was okay, whatever she felt was okay, and she burst into tears and buried her face against his chest.</div><div><br /></div><div>His arms were strong and thick, and wrapped tightly around her body, pulling her closer. He didn't shush her or tell her it would be okay or to think about the positives. He remembered after her attack, the times he would hold her and they wouldn't talk. And how it helped. He was hoping it would help now. He knew she was in pain, feeling useless, the same as he would feel if it had happened to him. Deakins hadn't been able to get anyone to budge yet, and the wait was torture for her.</div><div><br /></div><div>He continued to hold her, feeling her tears spreading across his chest and the sobs wracking her body as her disappointment flooded to the surface. She was shaking, her body vibrating from within, but he held on and didn't let go.</div><div><br /></div><div>The minutes passed by. Five, ten, twenty. The sobs were less frequent but still came, breaths in between. He hadn't loosened his grip, and he continued to hold her until all that was left was soft gasps and tiny whimpers, and her cheek was pressed against him, flat and wet and hot.</div><div><br /></div><div>She finally said, "How long are you planning on staying like this?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"As long as I need to. I have sick days accumulated." </div><div><br /></div><div>She didn't move. He knew she was exhausted. He meant what he said, too. He would stay as long as he needed to, just like this, until his arms fell off or her cheek welded to his chest.</div><div><br /></div><div>****************************************</div><div><br /></div><div>When he woke in the morning, she wasn't in the bed. He heard the shower running. For a second he thought maybe he was dreaming but then decided he was too chilly to be asleep.</div><div><br /></div><div>The bathroom door was open, and he went in. She was in the shower. He could see her outline, the shampoo in her hair. He stepped in behind her and she immediately leaned back into him.</div><div><br /></div><div>"Want help?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"I'm about done...I figured I'd try to finish up before you needed to get in." She turned around to rinse her hair and he reached up, running his fingers through the lather, helping to get it out. She smiled at him, the first smile he'd seen in a week. "If you sit on the ledge, I'll wash yours for you," she offered, and he quickly took a seat as she began to wash his hair.</div><div><br /></div><div>She lathered and scrubbed his scalp, then squeezed his body wash onto his sponge and began to wash him. He sat quietly, gratefully, letting her take the lead. After a moment, she directed him to stand and she finished lathering him up. "Hold still while I rinse you," she said, then took the sprayer and rinsed him off. Turning off the water, she stepped out of the shower and wrapped herself in a towel before grabbing one for him. "Here..." She smiled at him, then left the bathroom. He followed her into the bedroom, using the towel to dry his hair, then his body.</div><div><br /></div><div>She had pulled on a pair of panties and was reaching for a bra when he realized she was really going to get out of bed today. </div><div><br /></div><div>"What are we doing today?" he asked, slipping on his jeans.</div><div><br /></div><div>She looked surprised. "You're going to work...and I'm calling the doctor...I need to go in for a gynecological exam. I want to make sure I'm doing everything I should be doing." She hooked her bra, then turned to him. "I'm going to do some laundry, maybe walk Bruce, and make some lists. You know, lists of where I'm going now...what I'm going to do with my life."</div><div><br /></div><div>He pulled on a black tee, then sat down on the bed. "I took the day off. Whatever you want to do, we can do together."</div><div><br /></div><div>She sat next to him. "You don't have to babysit me. I'm okay. I know I've been a complete child about all of this but I'm done...it's time to put on my big girl panties and get a grip now."</div><div><br /></div><div>He smiled.</div><div><br /></div><div>"So I put them on...did you notice?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Yes...yes I did," he joked back, and she suddenly threw her arms around him tightly.</div><div><br /></div><div>"I love you, Bobby. I know I've been a nightmare and I'm sorry."</div><div><br /></div><div>He hugged her back. "No worse than I would have been." He pulled her back to look her in the face, then smiled again. "Do you want to call your doctor first or go to breakfast? I thought a big breakfast is definitely needed today. It's a big day--the start of the next part of our lives together."</div><div><br /></div><div>She nodded, a firm, quick assent, before saying, "I'll call the doctor, and then we'll go. A breakfast with more than coffee...I'm sure I'll remember this for a long time."</div><div><br /></div><div>An hour later they were eating breakfast, large and hearty and hot. She had ordered an omelet, bacon, homefries, and toast--big, homemade pieces of a dark, cinnamon raisin bread. When her food arrived, he had laughed.</div><div><br /></div><div>"I hope you've got enough there," he said, nodding to her plate.</div><div><br /></div><div>"I'm hungry today," she told him, digging in. "I would think you'd be happy that I'm not eating off your plate this time."</div><div><br /></div><div>He grinned. "You know I'm always thrilled to share whatever I have with you."</div><div><br /></div><div>"In that case," she returned, "you won't mind giving me a piece of your sausage."</div><div><br /></div><div>"I'll give you some sausage, but not the one on my plate."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Gross!" She made a face. "Speaking of your sausage, my appointment is next Tuesday at three. It's okay if you can't go...she'll just do a general exam and give me information, all of which I'm sure is in the books you've already gotten."</div><div><br /></div><div>He was cutting up his eggs and smiling to himself. "I'm glad you have embraced my decision to learn more about this process."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Yeah, but I want you to do me a favor."</div><div><br /></div><div>"What's that?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Stop pressuring me to have sex every day...it's so not romantic or sexy when you're so...I don't know...driven."</div><div><br /></div><div>He stopped mid-bite. "You really think that..that I'm pressuring you?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Sometimes. I mean, there has to be a happy medium between wanting to do it out of desire and needing to do it for conception." She pushed the omelet around on her plate. "I just hate feeling like we're only doing it to accomplish a goal."</div><div><br /></div><div>He leaned forward. "You do realize," he said in a hushed voice, "that I can't do it if I don't want you, right? I mean, there's a definite element of wanting to do it no matter what...at least for me." His fork touched hers. "Are you saying you don't want to do it sometimes?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"No, no...I'm just saying there have been a couple of times it's seemed less like us and more like it's goal oriented."</div><div><br /></div><div>He sat back and considered what she was saying. "I'm sorry," he said. "I guess maybe I did get carried away, initially, in looking at it as a goal."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Well, it is...I guess I just worry that it will turn into that being the whole focus..." She took a bite of her bacon. "On a similar note, Wednesday through Saturday next week should be the prime time. So we probably want to make sure we get it in each day then."</div><div><br /></div><div>He choked on his coffee. "I'll do my best to get it in," he sputtered, and she suddenly laughed, hard and loud. He grabbed his napkin, chortling in it too, until she finally stepped on his toes to get him to stop.</div><div><br /></div><div>They both worked hard to regain their composure, wiping their eyes and trying to focus on their breakfasts. After a couple more minutes, he said, "I'm sorry if I haven't been romantic enough...I'll try to keep that up. I don't want this to be a chore for either of us. It seems like it should be more special, if anything." He was still interspersing his words with chuckles. She reached over and touched his fingernails. They were smooth and well-manicured. He actually filed his own nails. She had seen him do it, and admired him for it.</div><div><br /></div><div>"I agree...and I'll try to keep an open mind." They looked at each other, and he suddenly grabbed her hand and squeezed it, as he had the night before when she had been so upset.</div><div><br /></div><div>"I love you, Ness...more than anything. I love you."</div><div><br /></div><div>"I love you too, Bobby. You're amazing."</div><div>*************************************</div><div><br /></div><div>"So," she said, tapping the side of the box, "I'm here to pack it up."</div><div><br /></div><div>Deakins stood from his chair and looked at her awkwardly. "I'm sorry," he told her. "I was so sure I could make something work quickly." He shook his head and sighed. "This is a huge mistake by the brass and they know it...if and when you go back to working, have them contact me. I'll give you an outstanding recommendation."</div><div><br /></div><div>She nodded. "I never doubted that. And don't worry...you're not getting rid of me. Just because I'm not here every day doesn't mean I won't be around." She smiled shyly at him. "I wanted you to know how much I've appreciated all your support over the years...you've been incredible to work for. I've learned so much from you, and you're such a good person. I never could have made it through everything without you, Captain."</div><div><br /></div><div>He shook his head again. "Rayden, you're too modest. You're one of the stars of this squad and we're all going to miss you." He walked around the desk, following her to the door of his office. "I expect you to be here regularly...to have lunch with your husband and your friends...and I know Angie is going to be calling you soon. She wants to bring you dinner. You'll let us know when you're...successful...in this next venture?"</div><div><br /></div><div>She knew what he meant and smiled. "Yeah, I'm sure you'll know shortly after we do...my partner in crime is pretty excited about the prospects." They both glanced over at Goren's desk, to see he and Bishop actively engaged in a lively conversation.</div><div><br /></div><div>"Let me know if you need any help packing." He started to turn back to his desk, then stopped. "Oh--Eames went on maternity leave today. Just thought you would want to know."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Thanks." She headed to her office to finish what she had started a week and a half ago. Forty-five minutes later she was done, and sat back to examine her office one last time. There was nothing left that really made the office hers, other than memories. After a few more minutes, she picked up her box and left the office for the last time.</div><div><br /></div><div>"Hey," Goren said, jumping out his chair and bounding across the bullpen to her. "I can take the box home when I leave later, if you want."</div><div><br /></div><div>She nodded. "Okay. I think I'm going to visit Alex for a bit."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Tell her I said hi, and I hope she's doing well." He took the box from her, carefully setting it on his desk.</div><div><br /></div><div>"I will. We still on for tonight?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"It's Wednesday, right? You bet." They both smiled at each other, and she headed toward the elevator.</div><div><br /></div><div>**********************************</div><div><br /></div><div>"So you're keeping the same ob/gyn?" Eames handed Rayden a cup of tea and had a seat next to her on the couch.</div><div><br /></div><div>"I think so. I've been seeing her for years and she knows me pretty well. I've started on these vitamins and I'm supposed to be drinking orange juice each day for folic acid..."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Did you figure out your ovulation schedule?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Yeah." Vanessa smiled and leaned back. "I feel like this is such a science experiment. I almost wonder if I should just have stopped my birth control and seen what happened, you know?"</div><div><br /></div><div>Alex laughed. "Yeah...I know. Trust me, with this baby I became an expert on the scientific makings of conception!"</div><div><br /></div><div>"I guess so." She put her glass of tea down. "I'm sorry I missed your shower last weekend...it was just a really bad time."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Don't worry. I felt so badly for you. I was going to call, but Bobby told me to just give you a bit of time."</div><div><br /></div><div>Vanessa nodded. "That was probably good advice...I was a real wreck until the end of last week...it took me several days to pick myself up again." Eames was resting her hands on her belly, as she always seemed to do these days, and Vanessa asked, "Is he moving?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Always...the doctor said that's pretty normal toward the end. I guess a week from now, he and I will be heading in different directions."</div><div><br /></div><div>Vanessa hadn't thought about it that way, but she knew it was true. After Nathan was born, Eames would recover and go back to work, and he would go home with her sister and brother-in-law. "Are you sad?"</div><div><br /></div><div>Eames was quiet for a minute. "Yes. But please don't say anything."</div><div><br /></div><div>Vanessa nodded. "I'm so sorry, Alex. I'm just so sorry."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Don't be. I chose this for myself. I don't regret my choices. And please--please don't feel like you have to keep your own excitement and joy from me because of this. I'm so thrilled for both you and Bobby...your baby will be so fortunate."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Let's hope." She took another sip of her tea, then said, "Bobby wanted me to tell you he was thinking of you."</div><div><br /></div><div>Eames smiled. "He's a great partner. I'll be so glad to be back to work--" She froze, but Vanessa nodded.</div><div><br /></div><div>"It's okay." Suddenly she laughed. "You and I could tiptoe around each other all the time if we weren't able to handle this crap. Thank God we're stronger than that."</div><div><br /></div><div>Eames grinned. "Wait til you see this kid. He's gonna be gorgeous...and I'll always get to say I gave birth to him."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Oh!" Vanessa reached around, grabbing her purse, and pulled out an envelope. "I struggled with what to get you...we sent a package to your sister's for the baby, but I wanted you to have this." She handed the envelope to Eames, who looked at it confusedly before opening it.</div><div><br /></div><div>It was a letter. Eames read it slowly and Vanessa watched her expression as she took in the words of admiration. Then she opened the gift certificate and gasped.</div><div><br /></div><div>"I can't take this...it's too much...too generous..."</div><div><br /></div><div>Vanessa shook her head. "Are you kidding? I want you to have it. So does Bobby."</div><div><br /></div><div>When she had read about the spa weekend for new mothers, she had thought of Alex immediately, and before she could talk herself out of it, she had purchased the package. Alex deserved the pampering after carrying her sister's baby. She knew Eames would never be able to afford something like that on a cop's salary, nor would she spend money on something so frivolous. But now her eyes were glowing and glistening, and she wiped away a tear.</div><div><br /></div><div>"Ness...thank you...tell Bobby thank you too. Thank you so much."</div><div><br /></div><div>Vanessa nodded. "You deserve it, and so much more...you're an amazing woman. I'm just glad I could do it for you."</div><div><br /></div><div>Impulsively, Eames hugged her, and Vanessa hugged her friend back. Eames was never this affectionate normally, and Vanessa wrote it off to the pregnancy hormones. For a minute, she wondered if pregnancy hormones would make her want to push people away. Otherwise, she'd probably be on top of people all the time.</div><div><br /></div><div>****************************************</div>Michellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01064645653840767072noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8431050131951486238.post-92051528137970259592010-08-05T19:27:00.000-07:002010-08-07T14:19:53.157-07:00Chapter Five"That," he groaned, rolling onto his back, "is definitely the way to start a Sunday morning."<div><br /></div><div>Vanessa leaned against him and kissed him slowly, taking her time to explore the mouth that had just been hissing such naughty things in her ear. He had gotten up to brush his teeth before she woke up, and he tasted like mint and sex.</div><div><br /></div><div>His hands ran over her body one more time, almost regretfully, knowing he was going to have to get ready to go see his mother soon. He didn't know when exactly they had fallen into the habit of trying to squeeze a week's worth of sex into two days, but the two days they spent doing it were magnificent. Her tongue was laving his own, slow and sexy, almost as if this was foreplay instead of afterplay. He couldn't help but think that if he were twenty years younger, it would all blend together and the end of one encounter would be the beginning of the next. Of course, he also wouldn't be visiting his mother upstate, and he wouldn't be here with her--she would be all of twelve. That thought was incredibly distasteful. He pushed the logic out of his mind and focused on his wife's kiss, now moving away from his lips and over to his ear.</div><div><br /></div><div>He smiled. "You know I have to shower soon." Her skin was so soft, so smooth. She was so keyed up still he had to ask--</div><div><br /></div><div>"Did you?"</div><div><br /></div><div>She laughed softly in his ear. "Don't be stupid...of course I did...and it was really good too...really, really good...but I'm not opposed to it happening again..." and she caught his hand, leading it across her thigh.</div><div><br /></div><div>He chuckled into her mouth. "You taste so sweet. You're turning me into a voyeur...I like to watch you..."</div><div><br /></div><div>And he did just that as his fingers manipulated her gently until she was arching against him and crying his name. He knew she did that to please him and he couldn't help smiling against her throat, kissing it gently. After, he kissed her lips again, then whispered, "You know, female orgasm helps semen travel up to the uterus--"</div><div><br /></div><div>She sighed softly and tangled a hand into his hair. "When you commit, you go full steam ahead, don't you?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"You could say that." His lips touched her forehead before he climbed out of the bed and headed for the shower.</div><div><br /></div><div>She lay tangled in the sheets and pressed her face against the pillow, smiling. Yesterday had been companionable. They had talked several times about the idea of starting a family. He had shared several articles he had found about the onset of schizophrenia, new treatments, genetic components, and environmental factors that might influence early onset. They had talked about how he was nervous about her getting pregnant. But this morning, when she had awoken pleasantly in his arms to his gentle touches and nibbles, he had entered her without a condom. When she had tried to stop him, he stopped her, murmuring, "No...I want to see our baby..."</div><div><br /></div><div>Their lovemaking had become increasingly passionate, almost frenzied, at the thought of conceiving a child together, and his words were raw and honest, bringing her to climax quickly. He came almost as soon as she did, then brought her again before he ever withdrew. The last one was just icing on the cake.</div><div><br /></div><div>Their sex life had always been close, passionate, loving. There was something so innately intimate about conceiving a child together that she couldn't help but keep her eyes closed and fantasize that their morning continue, over and over, more and more, until they saw that thin pink line.</div><div><br /></div><div>She heard him leave the bathroom and she opened her eyes; he was drying off and pulling on a pair of boxers, then jeans. Suddenly he caught sight of her watching him, and with a self-conscious smile, he asked, "What are you doing?"</div><div><br /></div><div>She rolled toward him, the sheet slipping down and revealing her breasts. "Watching you." She rested her head in her hand. "Are you disappointed? Should I be in a handstand position?"</div><div><br /></div><div>He laughed. "No...I think we can keep working on it as time allows." He grabbed a polo shirt out of the closet and pulled it on. </div><div><br /></div><div>"Bobby...are you sure about this?"</div><div><br /></div><div>He grabbed a pair of socks out of his drawer, then sat on the bed next to her. Hesitantly, he traced her face with a finger. "Yes. I'm sure." He pulled his hand back and sat for a second, looking down, before he turned to her again. "There's always the possibility that a child of ours could have a mental illness...there's no way we are going to get around that. But you're right. My dream was to have a family. The whole thing. I have a beautiful wife that I love more than anything...and I know any child we have will be loved and cherished unconditionally." He was fiddling with his socks, still not putting them on. After a minute, he said, "Honestly? As close as I've always felt to you, I've felt even closer this weekend...I can't imagine what it will be like when we have a baby together."</div><div><br /></div><div>She couldn't help the smile that crept across her face. "I know exactly what you mean."</div><div><br /></div><div>He quietly pulled his socks on, smiling the whole while, and slid into his shoes.</div><div><br /></div><div>"I should be back by five, as usual...enjoy your time alone..."</div><div><br /></div><div>'I will." She reached out to him. "Hey Goren...if that thing about female orgasm is true, I think we should definitely keep up with that strategy."</div><div><br /></div><div>He smirked at her. "I figured you would."</div><div><br /></div><div>She watched him as he left the room and listened as the front door opened and closed. Sighing to herself, she stretched out in the bed. No reason to get up any earlier than she had to, and right now she had no plans until five p.m.</div><div><br /></div><div>******************</div><div><br /></div><div>They arrived together, ready for work. He had humored her as usual, stopping at the coffee shop on the way in, and purchasing drinks for both of them as well as a decaf for Eames. She had given up caffeine when she got pregnant, and Vanessa couldn't imagine how difficult that had been for her. As everyone knew, a caffeinated Eames had been a happy Eames.</div><div><br /></div><div>Bobby had teased her, telling her soon he'd be ordering the same for her. She had elbowed him and responded, "Not yet."</div><div><br /></div><div>When he had gotten home the night before, she had dinner ready. He didn't come in until almost seven, and she was starting to worry. But when he arrived, he had a bag of books with him and he handed them to her.</div><div><br /></div><div>'You stopped at the library?" she had asked. "What is this?"</div><div><br /></div><div>He sat at the kitchen table and had a sip of tea, then said, "Books about conception and pregnancy. I thought we could do a little reading...you know, there are things we can do to increase our chances...and things you need to do to make sure your body's ready for a healthy pregnancy. I was skimming through this one...see? It says folic acid--you should already be starting that."</div><div><br /></div><div>This was going to be more than romantic, she suddenly realized. This was going to be work.</div><div><br /></div><div>She had managed to persuade him to keep it in his pants this morning, noting the time on the clock. She didn't think she had ever refused him sex in their life together, but she couldn't stand the thought that the sole reason he wanted to do it was to make a baby.</div><div><br /></div><div>He was sweet though, and after they got their coffee, she had noticed the incessant smile he wore and the gentleness in his touch, even more than usual. It was then she realized that she was being elevated from the status of wife to that of potential mother of his child. She could see it in his eyes.</div><div><br /></div><div>Bishop was already at her desk with her own cup of coffee. Rayden knew Bishop had come in early every morning since the bust last week. She was afraid of missing something. Goren winked at her, then sat down across from his partner.</div><div><br /></div><div>Rayden took Eames' cup of coffee to her and set it on her desk. "Hey," she said. "Happy Monday...doesn't your time off start soon?"</div><div><br /></div><div>Eames leaned back in her chair, holding her belly, and sighed. "Not soon enough...you really need to consider if you want to do this. It's not exactly a blast." She shook her head. "This kid's been on my bladder all morning."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Oh, fun...maybe we can meet up in the bathroom later." Eames knew Rayden's propensity for vomiting over particularly nasty cases, and she grinned at the reference. More than once they'd run into each other in the last eight months.</div><div><br /></div><div>"Rayden." Deakins' head stuck out of his door and he called her, loud.</div><div><br /></div><div>She was surprised. In her entire time on the squad--four years now--Deakins had never called her like that. Her mind began to race over what she might have done to piss him off but she came up empty handed. Eames shrugged at her, and she stood to make her way to the captain's office. As she approached, she glanced at Goren's desk and saw both he and Bishop watching her. She turned her attention back to Deakins, and taking a deep breath, entered his office and closed the door behind her.</div><div><br /></div><div>"Is everything okay?" she asked, not bothering to hide the concern in her voice. Jimmy had always been supportive of her, and she couldn't imagine that was changing right now.</div><div><br /></div><div>"I don't know. You tell me," he said flatly, tossing a file down on the desk and motioning at it. "You want to tell me what this is about?"</div><div><br /></div><div>She was confused, and sat in the chair across from him, then picked up the file. He sat in his own chair, looking at her expectantly.</div><div><br /></div><div>It was a letter from Quantico. The FBI was requesting her personally to join a terrorist task force full time. The letter listed her by name and made a point of thanking Deakins for his cooperation in letting her go. She could understand why he was angry and confused. She was too.</div><div><br /></div><div>She looked at him and tossed the file back on his desk. "You know as much as I do. I didn't ask for a transfer and I certainly didn't ask to go to Quantico."</div><div><br /></div><div>"I've been on the phone with the FBI since eight o'clock," he said, barely hiding his anger. "The position is here, in the city. They said your name was submitted."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Well, not by me!" She crossed her arms. "I have no interest in profiling terrorists. I'm perfectly happy on this squad."</div><div><br /></div><div>He regarded her carefully, then leaned forward. "Okay. So who put in your name?"</div><div><br /></div><div>She shook her head. "I have no idea. All I know is it wasn't me, Jimmy. I swear to God." She sighed. "I can't take on more than I already have anyway...this is all I can manage right now."</div><div><br /></div><div>He looked at her strangely, but didn't comment. Picking up the file, he opened it again. "They wouldn't tell me who submitted your name...and they wouldn't confirm or deny if you did it. Clearly, they want you. I'm supposed to pass along to you that you should call them asap to discuss your new position."</div><div><br /></div><div>Suddenly the reality of what he was saying hit her. "You're saying...does this mean that I go where they tell me or I don't work? Period?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"I don't know. The brass likes you, but when Quantico calls, you don't deny them." He handed her the file again. "You need to call and find out what you're supposed to do. I'll fight for you to stay, but I can't keep you if the brass won't let me." His voice lowered. "I almost had hoped you did this without telling me. I'm sorry."</div><div><br /></div><div>She took the file from him, heart pounding, and stood. "Either way, Jimmy...thanks for everything." </div><div><br /></div><div>He didn't look up but nodded. "Let me know."</div><div><br /></div><div>**********************************</div><div><br /></div><div>She was sitting on the park bench by herself, tossing part of her hotdog bun at the pigeons, while Goren got his order and joined her.</div><div><br /></div><div>"This isn't good, is it?" he asked, before taking a bite of his dog.</div><div><br /></div><div>She shook her head. Her mind was still reeling and her gut hurt. "Deakins got an official letter from the FBI. They're starting a terrorist task force with profilers here in the city, and they made a request to have me transferred. Somebody from the brass--I don't know who--was asked to recommend the best profilers and they put my name in. So I guess I've been drafted."</div><div><br /></div><div>His chewing slowed. She watched him swallow before he said slowly, "So tell them you don't want to do it...you're content here."</div><div><br /></div><div>"I tried." Her eyes brimmed and she looked away. In fact, that's what she'd been telling everyone ever since she first talked to Deakins six hours before. Her last call had been to the commissioner himself, who had made it clear that while the NYPD would fight the feds over jurisdiction of cases, they would not fight to keep skilled profilers. As he had explained, funding was tight all over and it was hard to justify keeping her on as it was. The feds had come calling and needed her. She owed her country.</div><div><br /></div><div>Bobby was holding his hot dog in his lap and staring at her hands. "So what did they say? Surely the brass doesn't want to get rid of someone like you...your solve rate is so high..."</div><div><br /></div><div>She laughed, harsh and cynical, and wiped the lone tear off her cheek. "I spoke to the commissioner himself. NYPD is having enough financial troubles as it is, it's hard to keep me. He said I owe it to my country." She shook her head. "They aren't going to fight it. I either go, or they let me go. Either way, I'm not going to be working here anymore."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Shit." He tossed the rest of his dog in the trash can frustratedly, then turned back to her. "You know what? Fine. Quit...you were going to quit within a year anyway, right? We just focus on the baby." He reached over with his napkin and wiped the tears, which were flowing freely now. "Don't cry, honey. It will all work out...you're the one who's always talking about how things align how they're supposed to. It will be okay." He caught her hand in his, then suddenly asked, "Do you want to work on that task force?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"No!" she exclaimed. "Oh, hell no. You know I've turned them down twice before...I think they just found an in and went with it."</div><div><br /></div><div>He chuckled softly. "They don't know you very well, if they thought they could strong-arm you into this."</div><div><br /></div><div>She looked at him. He was watching the people walk past them, his hand still holding hers, and she knew he was taking everything in. She knew the squad would be okay as long as he was there. He was a skilled profiler himself. "Hey. You better be damn sure about this baby thing..."</div><div><br /></div><div>"I am...do you think I'm not?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"No. I'm teasing you...I guess I can use my extra time to read all the books you bought."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Yeah, maybe...that and doing headstands." He squeezed her hand and she laughed despite herself. At least she still had him.</div><div><br /></div><div>"So now?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"So now I go upstairs and tell Deakins my decision...and call the feds and tell them too...and then I guess I clean out my office."</div><div><br /></div><div>He leaned over and kissed her forehead. She could see the empathy in his eyes, and he pulled her close. "I have a good job," he teased her. "Thank God for that...we can still afford to eat."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Yeah...thank God for that."</div><div><br /></div><div>**************************************</div><div><br /></div><div>She was packing the cliche box when Deakins entered her office.</div><div><br /></div><div>"Rushing it a little?" he asked, trying to smile.</div><div><br /></div><div>She looked at him and shook her head, then went back to putting things in her box. "There's really no point, is there? NYPD won't fight for me, and I'm not going to work for the FBI."</div><div><br /></div><div>He sat down. "Give me a few days to talk with the brass...let the commissioner sit on this. Now that Quantico knows you won't go, they might give up on it."</div><div><br /></div><div>She sat back and sighed, catching the tightening in her throat and clearing it. "Maybe."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Vanessa...sometimes things have a way of working out."</div><div><br /></div><div>"I'm trying to get pregnant anyway, so maybe it's a blessing." She tossed a pen in her box. "Goren would tell you the lack of stress will increase my chances of ovulating."</div><div><br /></div><div>Deakins chuckled. "Congratulations on that decision. I figured it was just a matter of time."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Yeah, well...I guess a new career is in my future either way, huh?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Let me work on this. And you don't have to clear out...you have leave accumulated and you're certainly not fired, so you can take that for now if you want."</div><div><br /></div><div>"So I can come back and clean it out later?"</div><div><br /></div><div>Deakins interlaced his fingers. "I'm hoping it won't come to that. You know how political all of this gets..."</div><div><br /></div><div>"No, I don't," she replied shortly. She knew she sounded like a child, but she didn't care. "I love my job and I'm good at it. I've done nothing but what's been asked of me, and for that, I get moved away from what I love and bullied into taking something else. Punished for being good at what I do." She looked at him and her voice was shaky. "I know you guys will do just as well without me. You have a great squad of detectives and Bobby is a good profiler. But I...I just really liked what I did."</div><div><br /></div><div>Deakins' voice was fatherly, comforting. "You'll land on your feet, Vanessa. As a profiler, as a woman, as a mother...your job is a good thing and something you enjoy, but it's not who you are. And you're about to enter into something that's absolutely amazing. You and Bobby will find life to be a completely new adventure."</div><div><br /></div><div>"I wasn't supposed to tell anybody."</div><div><br /></div><div>He nodded gently. "My lips are sealed." He stood back up. "Leave the box here...I'll call you in a few days once I've figured something out."</div><div><br /></div><div>She could feel her chin shaking and willed the tears back once more. "Okay," she managed, watching him walk out of her office. She tossed the box on the floor and stared at it. Four years of her life and it didn't even fill an average file box.</div><div><br /></div><div>She picked up her purse after turning off her computer. Locking her office door, she thought about how more often than not, her life seemed to change at the drop of a dime. Maybe the next change would be a happy one. Maybe Deakins would call tomorrow and offer her the same job with better hours and work with just the best detectives on the squad. Maybe.</div><div><br /></div><div>Without speaking to anyone in the bullpen, she made her way to the elevator, then out of the building and onto the street. It was chilly, so she pulled her jacket closer to her and began to walk the four blocks to the subway. It was a quiet walk, despite the fact she was surrounded by bustling New Yorkers on a major street in the city, in the middle of the week.</div><div><br /></div><div>She had always known loneliness could occur anywhere at any time. But she really wished the reminder hadn't come this way.</div><div><br /></div>Michellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01064645653840767072noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8431050131951486238.post-15651825584788855102010-08-05T13:16:00.000-07:002010-08-06T14:33:01.516-07:00Chapter Four<div>Bishop had been waiting for what seemed like forever. She was pacing in front of her desk, back and forth repeatedly, and Rayden was starting to humorously wonder if she'd wear a hole in the linoleum. Goren hadn't returned yet, and Bishop's irritation seemed to be multiplying by the second.</div><div><br /></div><div>After revisiting the crime scene and interviewing a few more witnesses, including two of Caroline Ivers' close friends, Vanessa had finished her profile and sent it to Goren and Bishop that morning. It had taken Bobby all of two minutes to gather his portfolio and hit the street. She knew he was going to pick up the Wall Street boyfriend as soon as he got a warrant issued. Bishop hadn't arrived at work yet but he wasn't about to wait for her. When he had left alone, Eames had shot her a glance, barely holding back a smirk. They both knew there was no way in hell Goren would wait for Bishop to show up before making this bust.</div><div><br /></div><div>Rayden ambled over to Eames' desk, perching herself on the edge of it. "So just how pissed do you think Bishop is going to be when she gets here and he's taken off without her?"</div><div><br /></div><div>Eames let the smirk come over her face as she replied, "Pretty pissed."</div><div><br /></div><div>Rayden smirked back. "Sucks to be the new kid."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Heh." Eames' hand suddenly went to her belly, but dropped back to her side after a minute.</div><div><br /></div><div>"You okay?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Yeah...he's just taking gymnastics lessons this morning." She rolled her eyes.</div><div><br /></div><div>Rayden turned to face Eames more directly. "You still sleeping? Ava said she couldn't sleep more than an hour or two by the end of both pregnancies."</div><div><br /></div><div>Alex nodded. "It's rough...I did manage to get about five hours last night though." She reached into her desk. "Take a look...the most recent ones..." She handed Vanessa several ultrasound photos detailing the baby's face and body.</div><div><br /></div><div>"That's pretty amazing." She examined the pictures closely, admiring the baby's little nose, eyes, hands. "Remember when he looked kind of like a worm?"</div><div><br /></div><div>Eames laughed. "Yeah...now he looks like a baby. It's kind of reassuring that if for some reason he appears before the due date he won't look too creepy."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Yeah, I guess...don't take offense to this, but all newborns seem to look kind of creepy to me!" Eames grinned and Rayden handed the pictures back to her. Eames took them, but nodded toward Goren's desk before shoving them back in the drawer. Bishop was there and had pulled out her chair. She sat down, looking around as though expecting her partner to appear out of thin air any minute. She was scanning her desk when suddenly her eyes flew open wide and she sucked in her breath so loudly that Rayden and Eames both heard her several desks away. Her head flew up and, seeing the two of them, she stood and quickly made her way to them.</div><div><br /></div><div>"You have the profile? Isn't it policy for detectives to take down a suspect together?"</div><div><br /></div><div>Vanessa stood awkwardly, facing Bishop. "Um, the profile is just a guide of who to look for...it's nothing more than that...the evidence decides who you arrest. If you all had evidence that the profile confirms, it's possible Goren went to get a warrant..."</div><div><br /></div><div>"He's your husband," Bishop seethed through clenched teeth. "Surely you know more than that."</div><div><br /></div><div>Rayden shrugged. "Not really...we do our jobs at work and that's it."</div><div><br /></div><div>Eames cleared her throat. "My guess is he went to get the warrant. I'm sure he'll call you once he's ready to pick the guy up."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Of course he will, because he does everything by the book, doesn't he?" Bishop snapped before storming back to her desk. Now she was pacing. Rayden didn't envy her husband. She didn't expect it would be too much fun to deal with Bishop when he got back.</div><div><br /></div><div>Eames and Rayden looked at each other, then Eames shrugged and Rayden made her way back to her office. As she turned around to sit in her chair, she saw Goren with the warrant in his hand, approaching Bishop. She grabbed her coat and followed him.</div><div><br /></div><div>Rayden couldn't wait for interrogation.</div><div><br /></div><div>****************************************</div><div><br /></div><div>She joined Deakins and Carver in the observation room. Bishop and Goren were flanking Brandon Johnson on either side.</div><div><br /></div><div>"How sure are we that he did this?" Carver asked with his usual cautious pessimism.</div><div><br /></div><div>"He fits the profile," Vanessa replied, and Deakins added, "We recovered DNA...it was a ten point match. We'll get a confession out of him. Rayden thinks he's pretty tightly wound...right?"</div><div><br /></div><div>She nodded. "If you provoke him the right way, he'll crack. The same way he did with Caroline."</div><div><br /></div><div>Goren's voice had escalated as he talked with Johnson's attorney. Rayden could see the surprise on Bishop's face. She'd never been through an interrogation with Goren before, didn't know his quirks and tricks with suspects. It might play to their benefit that Bishop appear to be so shocked. Johnson might just identify with Goren's anger, if they could change their tactics.</div><div><br /></div><div>She knocked on the glass, letting the detectives know they needed to stop the interview. Carver turned to her. "What are you doing?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Getting you a conviction," she replied.</div><div><br /></div><div>Goren and Bishop entered the observation room. "What do you have?" Goren asked them.</div><div><br /></div><div>Deakins and Carver turned to Rayden. "Ask her," replied Deakins, crossing his arms and smirking.</div><div><br /></div><div>"We need to provoke his anger toward women," she explained. "He's already seen you slightly escalate, Bobby. The fact his attorney is a woman plays in our favor. Go in there and talk him up. I'll join you in a few minutes and lay down the DNA evidence, enough to piss him off, then you close in for the kill."</div><div><br /></div><div>"And what am I supposed to do?" Bishop interrupted. "Floss my teeth and watch?"</div><div><br /></div><div>Rayden put her hands on her hips. "That'll do," she said. "And you might want to take notes."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Captain-" But Goren had already headed back into the interview room.</div><div><br /></div><div>He was good. He talked about the drugs they had found in Caroline's system, her sexual escapades, how she pulled the wool over everyone's eyes. How some women couldn't be trusted. How sometimes he wondered if he could trust his own wife, because you know how women could bat their eyelashes and make virtually anything happen.</div><div><br /></div><div>She interrupted them then. "Mr. Johnson? I'm Dr. Rayden." She made no effort to shake his hand but sat across from him, in the most challenging position in the room. She needed him to see her as a challenge to his power. "I'm a forensic psychologist. Do you know what that is?"</div><div><br /></div><div>He sat back, looking annoyed. "Why don't you tell me?" he drawled.</div><div><br /></div><div>She smiled. "Well," she said, speaking particularly condescendingly slow, "it means I'm the one who sent the detectives out for you, and I'm the one who's going to put you in jail for life." She tossed a folder on the table. "We have DNA evidence that conclusively proves you were the one who raped and sodomized Caroline Ivers. We have the gun and it's only a matter of time before we have a positive fingerprint. Even if we don't, juries don't like rapists. And they really don't like rapists who kill their victims."</div><div><br /></div><div>Brandon Johnson leaned forward smugly. "We were in a relationship. We had sex."</div><div><br /></div><div>She wagged a finger at him. "No, no...no jury is going to buy that when they see what happened to your girlfriend. The trauma she went through...the stabs to her uterus...and then the shot to the head. Your DNA is all over her...all over her torn and bruised body. Nobody in their right mind is going to believe that you made sweet love to her before she went out and was brutally killed less than an hour later." She handed the file to Goren. "Detective...your evidence...try not to mess it up." She smiled once more at Johnson, then leaned forward. "Lovely to see you. The next time we meet, I suspect, will be at your sentencing."</div><div><br /></div><div>She turned and left the room. It was in Goren's hands now.</div><div><br /></div><div>And like a well-oiled machine, Goren led him into his own confession. The forensic psychologist was a bitch, Goren said, probably led a life just like Caroline's. Wouldn't be surprised if she ended up the same way. </div><div><br /></div><div>And Johnson smiled, took the bait, and said if that bitch had a boyfriend like him, she'd be ending up exactly like Caroline. Exactly what she deserved.</div><div><br /></div><div>And Goren cocked his head and smiled, asking how he did it. Got the details. Two sentences in, over his attorney's protests, Johnson realized he'd been had but admitted he didn't care any more. It was worth it, to feel that bitch's life drain out of her. After all, she had drained him of his.</div><div><br /></div><div>Rayden turned to Bishop. "Next time," she said, "is your turn."</div><div><br /></div><div>Bishop didn't respond, but Rayden noticed she had jotted several lines down on a piece of paper.</div><div><br /></div><div>************************************</div><div><br /></div><div>Friday night found them lying in bed watching a movie. </div><div><br /></div><div>"You're a homebody," he commented halfway through as he took another bite out of a sandwich. </div><div><br /></div><div>"Is there something wrong with that? I spend about sixty hours a week working, just like you...when I'm off, I like to spend my time alone with you, in my home, enjoying my husband and my house and my dog." She reached out to rub Bruce's belly, as if to emphasize her final point.</div><div><br /></div><div>He made a face. "You gonna use that hand to eat your dinner?"</div><div><br /></div><div>She rolled her eyes. "Maybe...I'll try to remember not to use the one I shoved up his ass."</div><div><br /></div><div>He snickered and offered her a bite of his sandwich. "Just don't touch it," he directed. "I don't want unnecessary germs on my dinner."</div><div><br /></div><div>Watching him carefully, she stuck her tongue out and licked the top piece of bread before taking a bite. "Thanks!"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Classy, Rayden," he said. He took a long look at his sandwich before deciding he'd go ahead and eat it again. He took another large bite.</div><div><br /></div><div>She started laughing. "You can't be serious...all the places you've had your own mouth and you're worried that I licked your sandwich?"</div><div><br /></div><div>He stared at her for a minute, watching her amusement, before laying his sandwich back on its napkin on the end table. "You make a very good point. Maybe I'm done with my dinner...there are better things to be tasting around here." And with that he quickly wrapped his arms around her and pressed his lips to her throat, sucking and tickling her.</div><div><br /></div><div>She burst into laughter as his tongue fluttered first against her throat and then her earlobe and his fingers danced over her waist, lifting her tank top. "Bobby!" she squealed, feeling his hands moving up to her breasts. He wasn't wasting any time. His tongue was still tickling her earlobe, but now his fingers were pinching her nipples teasingly. She began to squirm, trying to get him to either get serious or get off of her.</div><div><br /></div><div>He pulled his face away from hers, grinning. "What?" he asked. "I thought we were hungry."</div><div><br /></div><div>"I'm not your dinner!" she giggled as he returned to sucking her neck. He stopped to lick one of his fingers and dipped it into her navel. "Bobby!"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Okay, okay," he laughed, moving back just a bit. "Here...take this off." He tugged at the tank and she reached down and pulled it over her head, tossing it onto the floor. He looked immensely pleased with her, but she blocked him with a hand to the chest.</div><div><br /></div><div>"Now you," she directed, nodding at his flannel pajama bottoms. "Lose 'em."</div><div><br /></div><div>Five minutes later he had turned her giggles into long sighs and murmurs of pleasure, and her hands were exploring him thoroughly. She knew he loved being touched, and she spent a great deal of time stroking his chest and his arms, listening to the pleasant sounds coming from deep in his throat. His body was warm and soft, hard and firm, comfortable against hers. He was stroking her belly, one of his favorite places. "I love your body," she sighed, and she heard him chuckle softly.</div><div><br /></div><div>"You feel good," he murmured, brushing his lips against the skin on her abdomen, over one of her scars. She thought about how far they had come, how she used to tense and dread him touching her scars. Now she looked forward to it. If it were ever possible to remove a scar with tongue laving, he would have done it by now. He was gently suckling up and down one of the marks, and she knew she'd have plenty of evidence tomorrow of the fact that her husband really liked to take his time with her.</div><div><br /></div><div>She was running her hands through his wavy hair, enjoying the feel of him. "Do you ever fantasize about doing this with other women?" she wondered aloud, before correcting herself. "Wait, don't answer that."</div><div><br /></div><div>He laughed against her skin. "I only like it with you," he said teasingly. "I promise."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Mmm." She stretched her body out, long, and felt his fingers wandering down to her thighs, over her skin, and his tongue followed lazily. A few minutes later and he was gently kissing and nibbling behind her knee, then blowing on the spots he had kissed. She shuddered.</div><div><br /></div><div>She heard the pride in his voice. "You always like that. You always have." He nipped her again, gently, before crawling back up next to her. "You want to?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Do what? Play checkers?"</div><div><br /></div><div>He grinned. "Is that what you kids call it these days?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Very funny!" She reached between them and touched his erection gently. "Have I mentioned how much I love the weekends?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Hmmm...you know, we could do this during the week more, if you wanted to..."</div><div><br /></div><div>"You got the energy for that?"</div><div><br /></div><div>He breathed her in. "No," he admitted. "But I have the energy for now." He pressed one of his hands on the opposite side of her body and his lips against her jaw, sliding his tongue along her jawline. "I love you."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Hey, stud." She ran her hands up his chest to his shoulders. "The condoms are in the nightstand, remember?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Yeah, I remember." He opened the drawer and grabbed one, then sat up for a second to slip it on. "Is this going to ruin it?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Not a chance," she answered, shifting against him, adjusting their contact, as he rested himself on his elbows and guided himself inside her.</div><div><br /></div><div>His movements were relaxed. She ran her hands over his back, then spread them above her head, pressing her knees on either side of his hips. They took their time; he curled his back to fit her and lowered his mouth to her breasts. She sighed as he moved against her rhythmically, feeling the pleasure ebb and flow through her. Maybe he was right, she thought dreamily. Maybe this connection was all they needed to parent a child. Genetics might be overrated. Environment was an important factor. God that felt good. She tried to stifle the moan, but it caught her off guard, and he smiled. "I like it when you do that...please, don't refrain on my account."</div><div><br /></div><div>She watched him moving over her, moved with him, gently rocking her hips against his. "What else don't you want me to refrain from?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Hmmm...dirty..." he whispered into her ear, picking up his speed. His fingers ran up and down one of her arms, cupping her breast, then capturing her mouth with his own. She entangled her wrists in the headboard and arched toward him, feeling her climax just seconds away. "Bobby." She didn't know if she said it to please him or to please herself. It was too intermingled for her to know. A moment later she heard her own name, heavily in her own ear, as he thrust twice more and pressed against her body.</div><div><br /></div><div>Her eyes closed and she felt his body relax over hers for a moment before he moved away from her. She heard him enter the bathroom and she stretched once more. He knew her better than anyone. Making love with him was so, so good, and she felt warm and content and relaxed. She seemed to see her body through his eyes instead of her own now, and felt very satisfied with herself physically. In fact, she was pretty sure she was hot.</div><div><br /></div><div>She opened her eyes when he jumped back on the bed, collapsing next to her naked. For a man in his mid-forties, he was pretty sexy, she thought. The imperfections of his body--the love handles, the slight belly he was developing, the scars--were charming to her. </div><div><br /></div><div>"Have I mentioned to you lately how hot you are?" She made no attempt to cover any part of her body, and he smiled lazily, resting a hand on her belly.</div><div><br /></div><div>"No, but I knew you thought so. I used my profiling skills to figure it out."</div><div><br /></div><div>She laughed.</div><div><br /></div><div>His hand stroked over her belly again. "Do you believe in fate?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Hmm...I'm not sure...why?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"The condom broke." </div><div><br /></div><div>He was remarkably calm, so calm that she thought for a moment he was teasing her. But then he continued. "Two pieces...it definitely broke...I guess it's a sign from God."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Or a sign from the drug store that they sell old condoms."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Or a sign that I'm a more passionate lover than we realized."</div><div><br /></div><div>She snickered. "Or a sign that you're as stacked as we thought."</div><div><br /></div><div>Now he snorted. "Very funny." He kissed her cheek gently. "Do you know where you are in your cycle?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"We should be okay."</div><div><br /></div><div>"If we're not, I'm okay with it." His fingers ran down her arm again. "I've been doing some research...I'm really trying to be okay with this. I think we should throw the rubbers out."</div><div><br /></div><div>She shook her head. "You're not ready yet...you're not comfortable with this...this was just an accident..."</div><div><br /></div><div>He sighed. "Okay, fine...but if I decide not to wear one next time, you can't make me."</div><div><br /></div><div>She stuck her tongue out at him and he winked at her. "You do have beautiful breasts," he commented. "I bet they would be very efficient at nursing."</div><div><br /></div><div>She rolled her eyes. "I forgot how the beauty of the breast affects its ability to produce milk."</div><div><br /></div><div>He lay back down next to her. "I want us to have a family, one way or another. Will you promise me at least that?"</div><div><br /></div><div>She caught his pinky finger in hers. "Yeah. I promise." And he lay his head on her stomach, content.</div>Michellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01064645653840767072noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8431050131951486238.post-36364468792618680792010-08-04T14:42:00.000-07:002010-08-06T12:50:21.571-07:00Chapter Three<div>"You wanna hold him?" Ava handed the baby to Vanessa so she could pour the coffee. Tristan curled his tiny fists up and lay his head against his aunt's shoulder. She couldn't believe how big he had gotten so quickly. It seemed like he was just born a few weeks ago.</div><div><br /></div><div>She settled down at the table, snuggling the baby close to her. He had that new baby smell, so sweet and pleasant, and his little features were delicate. He was only three months old but Vanessa could hardly believe he was even here. Ava hadn't planned this pregnancy and had been as surprised as anyone when she and David conceived him. Vanessa knew that Ava and David had only planned to have one child, Justin, but had adapted when Tristan came along. The last time they had gotten together, after a bit of dancing to old CDs and too much champagne, Ava had confided that David had agreed to have a vasectomy. Vanessa was impressed and said as much. Most men she knew wouldn't agree to a procedure like that, and she had wondered if Bobby would. That had led to a conversation about babies, which had led to her confession, which she now regretted--the one where she had told Ava how much she wanted to have Bobby's baby.</div><div><br /></div><div>Ava brought both coffee cups to the table, setting one in front of Vanessa. "I already fixed it, " she told her, then sat next to her sister, a peaceful smile on her face as she gazed at her new son. Tristan was resting in the crook of Vanessa's arm, sleeping, his yellow onesie snuggled tightly around his little body. "He looks good on you," she commented, before taking a sip of her coffee.</div><div><br /></div><div>"Thanks." Vanessa picked up the mug with her opposite hand and sipped from it. She noted it was lukewarm, and couldn't help but admire her sister's cautiousness. She knew Vanessa wouldn't be able to help but hold the baby and she wanted to ensure there was no possibility of a hot drink burning him. She put the coffee cup down.</div><div><br /></div><div>"So." Ava turned her cup aimlessly, then looked up at Vanessa. "Did you tell him?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Yes." She sipped her coffee slowly, almost wishing she had never confided anything in her sister. Talking about it made it more real, more painful. She knew Ava too well, knew she was like a dog with a bone. She'd never drop this, and Vanessa would have to pray with all her might that Ava didn't butt right in between her and Bobby about it.</div><div><br /></div><div>"So what did he say?"</div><div><br /></div><div>She shook her head. "We're still discussing it."</div><div><br /></div><div>"What the hell does that mean? I thought he wanted a family...didn't you say he had said that was his lifetime dream?"</div><div><br /></div><div>God, had she really told Ava that about Bobby? Bobby would kill her if he knew. Damn liquor. "I think...maybe it was something said a long time ago...in a moment..." She sighed, wishing their girls' night had never happened. Damn David for going out of town. If he had stayed home, Ava would have never invited her over, they would never have done any shots or sung karaoke or played truth or dare. Then she wouldn't be sitting here in the damn hot seat.</div><div><br /></div><div>Ava was watching her closely. "I can conveniently forget everything we talked about, if you want. We both had too much to drink....I know it's none of my business, Nessie. I just want to see you happy. And you'd be a great mom. And Bobby...he'd be a good father. He's been a great uncle to the boys." She took another sip of her coffee. "Don't tell him I said that."</div><div><br /></div><div>Vanessa smiled. She and Ava had worked tirelessly on their relationship in the last year, to the point that Ava could actually stand to be in the room with Bobby for more than ten minutes. They were closer now than they ever had been, and Ava had admitted the other night that a lot of it had been due to Bobby coming into Vanessa's life. He had changed all of their lives, for good. Ava would never be the kind of person who dropped compliments left and right, but it felt good when she gave them. And especially good when she acknowledged how special Bobby was to Vanessa, and even to her family.</div><div><br /></div><div>"I feel like I have baby on the brain." Vanessa shook her head. "Everything is about babies suddenly...you know, his partner is pregnant and due in six weeks. Tristan just seems more beautiful every time I see him. I'm thirty-two years old and not getting any younger."</div><div><br /></div><div>Ava shook her head. "Has he said anything about it at all?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Adoption...surrogacy..." Vanessa sighed.</div><div><br /></div><div>Ava looked confused. "Why...is it because of Mom?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"No." Vanessa shook her head. "At least, not completely...it's more about his mom. He's worried about passing on schizophrenia."</div><div><br /></div><div>Ava put her cup down slowly. "He has a point, Ness...and I can imagine he would know better than anybody what that's like...to live that way."</div><div><br /></div><div>Vanessa's eyes settled on her baby nephew sleeping in her arms. His tiny hand was curled by his mouth and he was making soft sucking sounds. His head was covered with soft dark hair that looked exactly like his father's. She smiled softly at him. She tried to imagine what it would be like to look at him and know his future could hold something as dismal as mental illness, and if that would make his parents wish they never had him. If it would one day make him resent them or wish he had never been born.</div><div><br /></div><div>"You know, you could always carry a baby...somebody else's fertilized egg..." She realized Ava was talking to her, and she turned her attention back to her sister.</div><div><br /></div><div>Shaking her head, she said, "So many ways to make a baby...and so many people who can't. When did the world get so complex?"</div><div><br /></div><div>Ava patted her hand. "I dunno, Nessie. But you can love on your nephews anytime you want."</div><div><br /></div><div>***************************************</div><div>Eames was roughly the size of a house. </div><div><br /></div><div>Rayden sat in her chair at her desk, watching Alex trying to maneuver her huge belly through the bullpen without bumping into desks or detectives. It was quite a feat. She though it was quite possible that Alex's circumference now surpassed her height. For somebody so round, she still was quick and light on her feet, and although Rayden could tell Eames was tired by the way she held herself, she got as much work done as ever.</div><div><br /></div><div>She was watching Eames curiously when she realized that Eames was watching her as well. Self-consciously she looked down at her work but it was too late; Eames was quickly making her way to Vanessa's office.</div><div><br /></div><div>"Hey," she said, opening the door and closing it behind her. "Everything okay?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Oh, yeah," she lied, picking up a pen and clicking it. "How about with you?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"I'm good." </div><div><br /></div><div>"Great," Eames replied, sinking into the chair on the other side of Vanessa's desk. "Because I was just wondering if I had a bullseye on my ass, the way you're watching me today."</div><div><br /></div><div>Vanessa felt her face flush. If Eames didn't know she was straight, she would have been horribly embarrassed. Her mind rushed through possibilities of how she could explain away the fact she'd been staring at Alex for most of the morning. She decided the truth was probably the best choice, as awful as it sounded.</div><div><br /></div><div>"I'll tell you...if you promise to keep it between us."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Why would I want anyone else to know you're checking me out?" Eames was laughing at her.</div><div><br /></div><div>Vanessa raised one eyebrow at her. "I'm not checking you out. At least, not in the way you're implying."</div><div><br /></div><div>Alex tossed her hair back and rested her hands on her enormous belly. "Then what's up?"</div><div><br /></div><div>Vanessa sighed. "Please don't say anything to anyone...it's kind of embarrassing...I was just wondering what it was like to be you."</div><div><br /></div><div>"A cop?" Eames looked puzzled.</div><div><br /></div><div>"No." Vanessa tried desperately not to roll her eyes. Alex wasn't usually this dense. "Pregnant. Really super pregnant."</div><div><br /></div><div>Eames snorted. "Didn't Ava just have a baby a couple months ago?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Yeah...but I'm around you more..." Her eyes caught Eames', then she looked down. "Sorry."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Ness..." Eames' voice was softer now. "Are you pregnant?"</div><div><br /></div><div>Now Vanessa laughed. "No. Really, no."</div><div><br /></div><div>"But you're thinking about it."</div><div><br /></div><div>She hesitated, then answered, "I can't seem to help myself." She tapped her pen on a piece of paper before saying, "Bobby has a lot of concerns."</div><div><br /></div><div>Eames nodded. "His mother. And yours?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Yeah."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Those are valid concerns, Vanessa...but you know, pregnancy is only nine months. Parenting is forever."</div><div><br /></div><div>Vanessa started to laugh again. "That sounds like something that should be on a plaque!"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Yeah, but it's true...I mean, I did this for my sister because she couldn't. And I wouldn't trade it for the world. But she's the one who gets a lifetime with this kid."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Are you glad you did it? It's been amazing, hasn't it?"</div><div><br /></div><div>Eames' eyes met hers, and Vanessa could see her choosing her words carefully. "It's been special and I feel honored I got to do this. I wouldn't have gotten to ever experience this if it weren't for my sister. But you know, if carrying a baby is that important to you, you can always have a donated egg fertilized with donated sperm, and implanted. The doctor I see does those procedures regularly."</div><div><br /></div><div>Vanessa nodded. "I know. But it's not what I want." She drew circles with the pen, then said, "I want to have my husband's child. I think about it all the time...what our baby would look like, what he or she would act like. If the kid would like chinese or italian or asian fusion, if it would run track, if it would sing or fiddle with car engines or read or be completely stupid and a beauty queen." She sat quietly for a moment. "Did you ever wonder...with Joe?"</div><div><br /></div><div>Alex nodded. "All the time. After I miscarried, I was devastated that I would never know. I still wonder what our baby would have been like."</div><div><br /></div><div>Vanessa remembered the day she had heard about the miscarriage. She had been interning and only knew Alex casually. The female cop whose husband had just been murdered on the job. She had taken Eames a casserole two days later that she had made herself. Chicken noodle. </div><div><br /></div><div>"I'm sorry if this has brought up bad memories...it was selfish of me."</div><div><br /></div><div>Alex shook her head vehemently. "No," she told her. "You're one of the few people I can talk about Joe with and don't have to hide it. I appreciate that about our relationship, Vanessa...I really do. And I've never forgotten you coming by. It meant so much to me."</div><div><br /></div><div>She smiled slightly. "Do you think I'm wrong to want this?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Of course not. I think you're a normal woman who loves her husband and whose biological clock is ticking away. I think it'd be stranger not to want it." She crossed her arms. "How is Bobby feeling about it all?"</div><div><br /></div><div>She shook her head. "Conflicted...you know him...he'd do anything for me and it's about killing him not to just say yes. I hate even bringing it up."</div><div><br /></div><div>Eames voice took on a firmer tone. "You need to talk to your husband about this. You both need to figure this out...what you can live with. Either way, I don't think you should give up on parenthood. You both would be incredible parents." She stood up. "You can stare at me all you want...sometimes I wonder how I fit through spaces, too." She grinned at Vanessa. "Ness, you guys will figure out what's best for you. Try not to worry too much." With a final empathic glance, Eames turned around and headed back into the bullpen, leaving Vanessa alone with her pen and her circles, both the ones on the paper and the ones in her head.</div><div><br /></div><div>*************************************</div><div><br /></div><div>"Hey Bruce," Vanessa cooed as she entered the condo later that evening. "I'm home!" She didn't hear an answer and didn't really expect to. It was her late night at the office, and she had brought home pizza, per usual. If Bobby was following routine, he was probably either in the study working or in bed reading. Sure enough, she found him in the bed, near the end of his book on neurology and crime.</div><div><br /></div><div>"Hey," he said, looking up. "What are we eating?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Pizza." She laid the box on the bed, then pulled off her shirt. "As soon as I get changed, I'll go grab us some drinks and plates."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Awesome." They had gotten into the habit early in their relationship of eating in bed together. Sometimes they ate junk, other times healthy food, and still others, four star dinners they had requested be boxed up and brought home. Sometimes they ate in their clothes and sometimes in their pajamas, and still other times they ate naked, and even occasionally off of each other, laughing at their own creativity. He watched her pull off her bra and her slacks, reaching for one of his t-shirts. He liked that, her body swallowed in his shirt, knowing that he'd wear it again. He could see her nipples gently pressed through the thin fabric and he smiled, because, well, he enjoyed being reminded.</div><div><br /></div><div>She left the room and returned a few minutes later with a couple glasses of water and two plates, and they sat down to eat. She had gotten spinach for her and sausage for him.</div><div><br /></div><div>"I love you," he told her as he bit into his first piece. "I want you to know how much I appreciate the fact that you get me italian sausage and don't make me eat weeds."</div><div><br /></div><div>She laughed. "Well, you can have sausage but if you'd like some of the weeds you're welcome to those as well." She flipped on the television and set the channel on the food network.</div><div><br /></div><div>"Heh," he said, "I always like to watch people eat when we're eating."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Yeah, me too..." She pulled a piece of cheese off her pizza and chewed it slowly. "We need to talk about something. I'm supposed to go in next week for my birth control shot." She didn't look at him but felt hyper aware of his reaction, waiting to see any change in his posture or tone at all.</div><div><br /></div><div>But he just took another bite of his pizza. "You want to go off it?" </div><div><br /></div><div>"Yeah. Just in case we decide to try...it can take awhile for the body to readjust to not having the hormones..."</div><div><br /></div><div>He nodded. "It's your body...I think you should do what you're comfortable with. And what you're saying makes sense."</div><div><br /></div><div>She twisted another piece of cheese on the top of her pizza. "Makes sense?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Yeah." He put his pizza down and looked at her. "I mean, we haven't ruled this out, right? So it makes sense for you to go off the shot and we can use something more...I don't know, temporary..." He cleared his throat. "Until we make a decision."</div><div><br /></div><div>She didn't know why, but she felt insistent, almost annoyed. She raised her chin. "I want to have your baby and there's nothing you can say to dissuade me. I understand the risks we'd be taking. I just hope you understand how much I want this, and how serious I am."</div><div><br /></div><div>He rested his hand on her chin, holding her face to look at him. She could see his whiskers and couldn't help but remember the last time they had scratched against her when they made love.</div><div>"I understand," he said softly. "I know you want this." His brows furrowed before he continued. "My biggest fear is not being able to do this and losing you because of it."</div><div><br /></div><div>She could see the tears welling in his eyes. "Stop it," she told him. "I'm your best friend and I don't want to live my life without you." She shook her head. "It wouldn't be much of a life. For either of us, now."</div><div><br /></div><div>He leaned over and kissed her, long, sweet, gentle. "Go off the shot," he whispered. "We'll use something else for now. And I promise I'll make a decision, soon."</div><div><br /></div><div>She wrapped her arms around him. "I love you," she told him. "And don't forget, I'm your everything."</div><div><br /></div><div>He inhaled. "Don't worry."</div>Michellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01064645653840767072noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8431050131951486238.post-40198946330970828772010-08-03T16:36:00.000-07:002010-08-05T21:56:22.791-07:00Chapter Two"What are you reading?" She climbed in bed next to him and he breathed in deep. This was one of his favorite parts of the day. She was close and soft and smelled so pleasant to him. That had never changed, over all the time he had known her. Now she was leaning over him, trying to get a closer look at his book. He wondered if she was really interested in his choice of reading material or if there was something else going on.<div><br /></div><div>Vanessa had never been the jealous type. She hadn't had to be. From the moment their friendship had been established, there had been no one else. And once he had fallen in love with her, he hadn't been able to look at another woman the same way again. Sure, he looked, like he figured most men did. Shapes and bodies and attractive faces. Sometimes he wondered for a moment what they looked like naked or if they would be attracted to him, and he enjoyed the occasional smile or hair toss his way. He'd even allowed himself to flirt with the girl in the drug store a couple of times. But there was no one, no woman, who came close to what he had with his wife.</div><div><br /></div><div>He was pretty sure she knew he looked, and almost certain she knew he flirted with Dina, the drug store girl. She didn't seem to mind, though. And now she was examining his book, halfway lying in his lap. "The Criminal Mind and Neurology"? she asked. "Is it any good?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"It's okay," he replied, taking it out of her hands and closing it up, setting it on the nightstand. "You wanna read it when I'm done?"</div><div><br /></div><div>She sat back, next to him, pulling one of her legs up close to her body. "Maybe." She touched his hand gently. "So...how's your new partner...what's her name? Bishop?"</div><div><br /></div><div>He sighed. "Okay, I guess. She seems pretty young...and a bit by the book...but it's only twelve weeks, like you said." He took her hand in his. "Eames is still there right now, so it's good she can do the ground work. And Deakins is going to have you working the Ivers case with us. Maybe she'll feel outnumbered."</div><div><br /></div><div>Vanessa smiled, stroking his fingertips with her own. "Do you think she's interesting?"</div><div><br /></div><div>He shrugged, not sure where this was going. After all, he'd known Lynn Bishop for exactly eight hours. "I dunno...I don't really know her yet. Why?"</div><div><br /></div><div>She replied, "Oh, no reason...just wondering." After a minute, she said, "She's very attractive."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Really?" Now he understood exactly what this was about. "You should ask her out sometime."</div><div><br /></div><div>She elbowed him. "Very funny, Bobby! And don't tell me you hadn't noticed!"</div><div><br /></div><div>He tickled her back until she was laughing and flat on her back in the bed. He stopped, resisting the urge to grab her wrists, then said, "Honestly, I hadn't noticed. When you have a Van Gogh in your home, sometimes it's difficult to appreciate the street artist."</div><div><br /></div><div>She made a face, but her eyes smiled at him. God, he loved her eyes. And he really hadn't noticed Bishop, other than the fact that she was clearly going to be a pain in his ass.</div><div><br /></div><div>"Van Gogh, huh?" she said, reaching around the back of his head to comb his hair with her fingers.</div><div><br /></div><div>He smiled. "Something like that." He leaned down and kissed her softly. "You know there's nowhere I want to be other than here, with you. Nothing has changed. l adore you. I haven't regretted a single minute of our marriage...all fifteen months of it."</div><div><br /></div><div>She ran her hands over the front of his tee shirt. "Okay, smart guy. I'll try to keep that in mind, even if your new partner looks like she belongs on the cover of Vogue."</div><div><br /></div><div>He laughed and rolled over, lying next to her. "Vogue, really? I think you're perfect, but you already know that."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Yeah, maybe." She had caught his hand again and he squeezed it. "You rock, detective."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Awesome...if this detective thing doesn't work out, I'll audition for Cop Rock."</div><div><br /></div><div>******************************************</div><div><br /></div><div>It confused him that she would be jealous of Bishop. </div><div><br /></div><div>Mainly, it confused him because Bishop was so not his type. He guessed she was attractive by regular standards, maybe even more than Eames, but he couldn't, for the life of him, imagine thinking of her like that. She was so...rigid. And she didn't get him. Not in the slightest.</div><div><br /></div><div>He remembered how when he had met Vanessa, she didn't get him either, but she was funny. And smart--my God, he had always thought how smart that woman was. When fate had brought them together, part of what had drawn out his empathy toward her was the belief of how much she didn't deserve what had happened to her, and how much it had changed her so immediately. She was a good person, a passionate profiler, smart and funny. And she had been so vulnerable, so weak afterward, that even her closest friends couldn't bear to watch her suffering. As she grew stronger, as their relationship developed into friendship and later, love, their ability to understand one another had increased tremendously. At times, it felt that they were on the same plane. Sometimes now, it didn't, but they at least had the skills to talk it out and make it work. And more than that, they had the commitment to each other. He'd never loved anyone in his life the way he loved her, and nothing was worth risking that.</div><div><br /></div><div>So when she had asked about Bishop last night, made it clear that she was jealous, he had been surprised. He had assumed that she knew he was just as invested in their relationship as she was, that every day he looked forward to their reunion at night. That his favorite times were drinking wine on the couch while watching a bad movie, going out to their favorite pizza joint, making love on the weekends with no timetable. But maybe he wasn't expressing it enough. Maybe they were falling into a rut. He'd never been married before, so what did he know? Making Vanessa happy was important to him. He made a mental note to do a search for a book on the subject the next time he went to the library.</div><div><br /></div><div>As he was pondering all of this, Bishop was reviewing evidence on the Ivers case across from him. Eames had politely volunteered her desk when Bishop arrived the day before, and it had only taken Eames a minute to convince Bishop it was the best place for her. "This way you and Goren can keep connected easily on your cases," Eames had explained, and for the first time in their partnership, Goren found himself wanting to tell Eames to shut up.</div><div><br /></div><div>She was making little noises to herself as she perused the file, something that sounded like a hum, but he wasn't sure. He'd never worked with a cop who made noises while they studied a case file. He didn't know what in the hell she was doing.</div><div><br /></div><div>"Find something?" he finally asked her after about the tenth hum.</div><div><br /></div><div>"Maybe..." she responded. "You know she was an honors student at NYU, and her parents mentioned she was dating that broker on Wall Street? One of her friends..." she flipped the page as though looking for information, "says something about her dating another student at the university." She glanced up at him. "We should track down this mystery man and interview him."</div><div><br /></div><div>He nodded. "That's a good place to start."</div><div><br /></div><div> "I'll go call her friend--Sylvia, it says--and see if she knows the guy's name...then I guess we can head over."</div><div><br /></div><div>He watched Bishop pick up the phone, then casually stood and made his way over to Vanessa's office.</div><div><br /></div><div>"Hey." He leaned against the door frame, watching her typing.</div><div><br /></div><div>"Oh. Hi," she greeted him, looking away from her computer. "I was getting ready to send you and Bishop the victim profile...and what I have for the perp so far..."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Okay." He sat down in the chair across from her. "What do you have?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Caroline Ivers, 20, senior at NYU, honors college, majoring in business. Her father reported a relationship with a broker downtown, yada yada yada...you know all that already. Here's the thing. Looking at the type of crime we have here, we're fairly certain--say, 99.5 percent--it was personal and done by someone she was seeing. Caroline had a second life though."</div><div><br /></div><div>"How do you know?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"How many good girls do you know, at 20, are coming out of a club called The Lion's Den?" She sat back. "I'm sure she was seeing someone else as well. Her father was extremely rigid and controlling during the interview...didn't let her mother talk, was very insistent his daughter was headed toward Wall Street next year. The kid's been classically trained in two instruments, debate team, lacrosse, and in twenty hours of senior classes in her junior year. That's his drive, not hers." Vanessa crossed her arms. "Plus, Rodgers found a small amount of X in her system....classic good girl wanting to be bad."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Great...so this opens up our suspect pool to more than Mr. Wall Street."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Yes."</div><div><br /></div><div>Bobby's foot began to tap again, before he said, "Do you think the father is capable?"</div><div><br /></div><div>She shook her head. "No. The only thing I'm not sure is if the pregnancy was an accident--a result of her living a little dangerously--or if it was a purposeful way to get off the horse. You know, get out of the race. I would suggest you all test the fetus for DNA along with the boyfriend. Maybe look for appointments in abortion clinics and check her apartment for birth control."</div><div><br /></div><div>He nodded. "I was thinking the perp probably lives loud."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Maybe." She leaned her head against the back of her chair. "Or maybe he's just got a lot of rage. To do what he did to her, he'd have to be incredibly angry. And I don't think it's only about power with this one...he was making a point about sex. There's too much violence throughout, but particularly genital trauma. He wanted to sexually destroy her." She paused. "If I had to speculate at this point, I'd say you're looking for someone who impresses, who cares what people think about him, and who carries a lot of rage inside--enough that, when unleashed, he's capable of this. I doubt he has a record of gratuitous violence. Not his style."</div><div><br /></div><div>Goren nodded and stood. Rayden started to turn back to her computer when she heard him, low. "You okay?"</div><div><br /></div><div>Bishop suddenly appeared next to him. "I've got a name...you ready to head over to campus?'</div><div><br /></div><div>He glanced back at his wife for a second, then said, "Sure."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Bishop," Vanessa called. "I'm sending you my profile of the victimology...it might help you. I'll send the perp info as soon as I'm done." </div><div><br /></div><div>Bishop turned around and called over her shoulder, "Thanks!" Looking at Goren, she said,, "You coming?"</div><div><br /></div><div>He glanced back at Rayden one more time, and she said firmly, "I'm fine." He hesitated for just a second, then nodded at her, before turning and following Bishop to the elevators.</div><div><br /></div><div>*********************************************</div><div><br /></div><div>He knew he'd be late getting home and wasn't crazy about it. Before he had gotten married, the job had been his whole life. Some days he never even left work. He'd bunk in the crib for a few hours, shower and change into a new suit, and start the next day as though it were just an extension of the last one. He loved his job. He felt useful and smart, and there was something to be said for making a difference. But now...now there was a life waiting for him outside of the station too. And some days he was awfully anxious to get home to it.</div><div><br /></div><div>Bishop had driven him crazy. He found himself wishing on more than one occasion that afternoon that he had asked Vanessa to ride along. Bishop was a total connect the dots kind of person. If there wasn't an arrow directly pointed in a direction, she wasn't about to go there. She was so incredibly logical he figured she'd missed her calling as a mathematician. Her lack of instinct was what drove him insane. </div><div><br /></div><div>Somewhere in the middle of the afternoon he had turned to her and said, as jokingly as he could deliver, "Do you ever, say, imagine what might have happened?" </div><div><br /></div><div>And she returned, with complete seriousness, "It's not my job to imagine. It's my job to follow the evidence."</div><div><br /></div><div>Of course she was right. All cops go where the evidence takes them. But good God, would it hurt to think outside the box just a little?</div><div><br /></div><div>Their interview with the NYU student had been relatively ineffectual, primarily due to Bishop's need to pull out her notebook and ask routine questions, then jot down the kid's answers word for word. When he finally got a question or two in on the side, she had glared at him as though he had just body slammed the kid against a wall. But, in his opinion, the questions he'd asked had given them the most information. When he had asked the kid, man to man, what Caroline's reputation around campus had been, he had laughed nervously before confiding, "Well, she's pretty tight on the outside, you know...goes to classes, looks good...but when she cuts loose, she knows how to party..." Then he had stopped laughing and looked seriously at both detectives. "She...um...she didn't do that very often, and only with a few people."</div><div><br /></div><div>He had given them names and numbers. That was useful. So was the information that Caroline had a tight circle of people she partied with. Bishop didn't necessarily think it was important, arguing that they already knew the girl occasionally partied and they needed to follow the scent of men she dated. He disagreed, explaining that knowing more about her inner circle would lead them to more useful evidence.</div><div><br /></div><div>Bishop had shaken her head in frustration. "We know this is a man. We know it's either her Wall Street boyfriend or someone she was seeing at NYU. That's where we need to focus our energy. We have plenty of evidence that this pregnancy was an accident. That would provoke her boyfriend...we need to get a warrant for his DNA."</div><div><br /></div><div>They had sat in the SUV and argued about it before finally agreeing to call it a day. </div><div><br /></div><div>Now he was home. He had expected to find Vanessa in the kitchen, cooking dinner, possibly in a bowl like she seemed to enjoy. But she wasn't there. He wandered through the condo before heading to the bedroom and opening the door.</div><div><br /></div><div>She was sitting in bed, eating a grilled cheese and tomato sandwich, with Bruce at her feet. When he opened the door, she glanced up. "Oh, hey. Sorry...I didn't feel like cooking tonight."</div><div><br /></div><div>He shook his head, smiling. "Do you always eat naked?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"I'm not naked," she argued. "I'm wearing my panties. But thanks for your concern."</div><div><br /></div><div>He sat on the edge of the bed, watching her eat and thinking how much he wanted to strip down and get in bed next to her.</div><div><br /></div><div>"Bite?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"No thanks." He stood and took off his suit, hanging it in the closet, undressing down to his boxers. "I'm gonna go make a sandwich too...you want anything?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Yeah...pita and hummus?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Got it."</div><div><br /></div><div>He returned a few minutes later with the pita and hummus and a sandwich of his own, as well as a glass of water for himself. He handed her the food and climbed into bed. "You feeling okay?"</div><div><br /></div><div>She nodded. "Yeah...I was just tired today. How'd it go with Bishop?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Um...let me think about that...painful? Torturous? Obnoxious?"</div><div><br /></div><div>She smiled. "You could always objectify her...you know, think of her sexually."</div><div><br /></div><div>He made a face. 'What is your deal about that? You do realize that the only time that crosses my mind is when you put it there, right?"</div><div><br /></div><div>She picked at the pita bread. "It's my insecurity. I didn't even know I had it until now."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Well, you shouldn't. You know I don't want to be with anyone but you. Didn't we have this same conversation a few days ago?"</div><div><br /></div><div>She put the pita down. "I remember a time that you would have picked up on the fact that I'm half naked in bed."</div><div><br /></div><div>He sighed and lay the remains of his sandwich on top of the hummus container. "Are you serious?"</div><div><br /></div><div>She didn't answer him, and suddenly he realized how serious she was.</div><div><br /></div><div>"Hey." He caught her face in his hand and she was still, her eyes watching his. "This is nuts. I'm ending this conversation right here, right now. I love you with my entire soul. There is no one, especially Lynn Bishop, who I want to be with. Suspicion is no good for us. When I wake up, the first person I want to see is the one I see--you. When I go to bed, the last person i want to see is you." His hand let go of her face and dragged his fingers through her hair slowly. "If you need something from me, then tell me...I'm not good at guessing. You know I'll try...but I can't promise you'll get what you need."</div><div><br /></div><div>He started to pick up his sandwich when he heard her. "I need you, Bobby. I need you to want me."</div><div><br /></div><div>The choice was an easy one. He laid the sandwich back down on top of the hummus, then leaned over and kissed her, slowly and deeply. How in the hell she could think he would want this with Bishop, he'd never understand.</div><div><br /></div><div>She was passive this time, more so than he remembered her being in a long time. He thought she wanted him to show her, to show that he loved her enough to take charge, to demonstrate his feelings. He had no problem with that. He took his time, working his way over her body, tasting her in tiny licks and nibbles until he could hear her catching her breath repeatedly. Then he stopped and looked up at her. "Tell me you know I love you," he whispered.</div><div><br /></div><div>She reached down and ran her hands through his hair. "I know that...I just like the reminders."</div><div><br /></div><div>He grinned at her. "You know I'll never get tired of you." His lips grazed her nipple gently, and his teeth nibbled on her before beginning to suck rhythmically. He felt her hips rock against him in the same rhythm as she sighed.</div><div><br /></div><div>His hand slipped down to her panties. He wanted to touch her. They were both creative enough to make sure this never got old, and God knows, it always felt so good. He was about to run his fingers over her when he heard her whisper his name.</div><div><br /></div><div>He pulled his mouth away from her breast, then kissed it before answering her. "Everything okay?"</div><div><br /></div><div>She smiled and ran her hands over his back. "Yes...I just have been thinking a lot about something..." He heard her suck in her breath. "I want to have a baby."</div><div><br /></div><div>Seven years old and hiding in the closet while she ranted about the FBI stalking them. Ten years old, dodging the frying pan she was waving around as she was convinced he had let "them" in. Fourteen as she chased him and his then-girlfriend from the house, screaming that they were trying to spy on her. </div><div><br /></div><div>He pressed his face into her neck, breathing deeply. "Beth," he sighed. She smelled of flowers and grilled cheese and the office.</div><div><br /></div><div>Her fingers ran slowly down his spine, tracing each vertebra. She could feel his erection against her thigh and was almost surprised he hadn't lost it, given what she had just sprung on him. Proof positive that desire trumps all, she thought. "I know it's sudden...it's just been on my mind a lot...it's almost time for me to get my shot again and I want to stop...I want us to try...if you're ready." </div><div><br /></div><div>He hadn't moved, hadn't lifted his head. Still buried in her neck, breathing in her scent. Against his better judgment, he let his hand meander down to her breasts and fondle her nipples until he felt them tighten and heard her catch her breath sharply.</div><div><br /></div><div>His hands moved up to her face, cupping her cheek, and he lifted his own to press against hers. His lips lay loosely against her jaw, pressing into soft kisses repeatedly until he whispered, "You're so beautiful."</div><div><br /></div><div>She turned to face him and kissed him on the mouth slowly, eyes open. Hesitantly, she heard herself. "You don't want to, do you?"</div><div><br /></div><div>His hand tangled into her hair as he opened his eyes and stared into hers. "I don't know."</div><div><br /></div><div>She knew that would be his response. She had known, since right after their marriage, that the reality of a pregnancy scared the shit out of him. She had hoped if she gave him enough time, if he could see how good they were together, that his original dream of a happy family would resurface and he would trust the two of them, together, to work this out. But it wasn't what he wanted. She had a sinking feeling in her gut that the only reason he even had doubts about his answer was because he loved her so much he wanted to give her the world. She felt the hot tears welling in her eyes.</div><div><br /></div><div>"Baby," he whispered, "please...don't cry...I'm not saying no...I'm just saying I need time to think...we need to consider our options. Adoption, surrogacy--something safe for the baby and right for us--"</div><div><br /></div><div>She didn't speak, willed herself to stop crying the selfish tears falling down her face, to steel herself and remember how incredibly lucky she was to have even found him. He was kissing her face, stroking her hair, and she knew he felt immensely guilty for not being able to give her something she wanted. He almost never denied her anything.</div><div><br /></div><div>She caught her breath roughly. "It's okay," she whispered hoarsely. "We can talk about it later...it doesn't matter right now...you're right, we need to discuss our options." She leaned forward and forced herself to kiss him with as much passion as she could muster. "Right now, there are other things..." and she slid her hand down between them.</div><div><br /></div><div>But he pulled away, catching her hand in his own and kissing it gently. "Beth," he murmured, and pulled her against his chest, squeezing her tightly there until she really did begin to cry, and buried her head in his chest for a long time.</div><div><br /></div><div>**************************************</div><div><br /></div><div>"So that's what I told them," Frances said firmly. "I told them that just because a person is schizophrenic doesn't mean they're stupid."</div><div><br /></div><div>They were visiting Bobby's mother as per usual for Sunday afternoons, and she was doing much better. In the past three months the doctors had refined her drug regimen and most days she was more conversational and much less paranoid. Rarely did Vanessa have to pretend she was some sort of secret service agent protecting Bobby from the FBI; usually she got to be herself and Frances was completely delighted with the idea of having a daughter. Nearly every visit, she would take the opportunity to tell Vanessa that she was the daughter Frances had always wanted but never had, and then hugged her fiercely before beating her on the back in good old Italian tradition. Bobby would awkwardly smile during these interchanges. Sometimes Vanessa wondered if he was jealous that his mother actually had wanted a girl at some point, but he never mentioned it after, so she didn't either.</div><div><br /></div><div>Today Frances was talking about her most recent visit with the new psychiatric resident doctor. Apparently he had felt the need to explain certain aspects of her illness to her, and she had taken offense, clarifying that she certainly understood her illness after having it for thirty years.</div><div><br /></div><div>"Ma," Bobby said, "You know he's just trying to help you...he doesn't know yet. He's new, that's what the residency year is for."</div><div><br /></div><div>"So now he knows!" she exclaimed. "Look, who's the schizophrenic here? I've had it for thirty years and he thinks I need education? I may be schizophrenic but junior certainly isn't at the top of his class, is he?"</div><div><br /></div><div>Vanessa started to laugh. Sometimes she just couldn't help it--Frances didn't have the same filter that everyone else had, and she often said things out loud that everyone else was thinking. Vanessa envied her that freedom.</div><div><br /></div><div>"See? Your wife agrees with me, Bobby. Sometimes you need to set people straight." She gave a curt nod in Vanessa's direction. </div><div><br /></div><div> Bobby glanced at Vanessa warily before answering, "Maybe so."</div><div><br /></div><div>"So." And the question came that always came. "Where's your brother? Have you heard from Frank?"</div><div><br /></div><div>Of course they hadn't heard from Frank. Vanessa had never even met Frank, and they'd been married for almost a year and a half. In all that time, Bobby had gotten one phone call from his brother--once, in the middle of the night from Atlantic City, asking for money to bail him out of a problem--and that's it. Vanessa had volunteered to wire the money, but Bobby had flatly refused, saying he wasn't about to fund his brother's habit.</div><div><br /></div><div>Every visit, Frances asked about Frank. Then she talked about him--how he was probably busy, how he was brilliant, an engineer; how life had been hard for him--until she finally moved on to another topic or they distracted her with a card game or lunch or perhaps the priest came for a visit. Vanessa always had to fight the urge to tell Frances exactly what she thought of her other son, and it was only out of respect for Bobby that she did so.</div><div><br /></div><div>Bobby responded as he always did. "No, Ma, I haven't heard from him this week."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Hmm," Frances replied thoughtfully. "I was reading in the paper about that new space launch...the one in Florida. You remember when your brother was into aeronautics in high school, Bobby? He never ceased to amaze any of us. Your father always said that Frank could get anything to fly." She turned to Vanessa. "That was my Frankie...the brains of the family."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Coke?" Vanessa asked brightly, standing to head to the vending machine. </div><div><br /></div><div>"Oh no," Frances replied. "Bobby...Bobby...give your wife some money...she wants a coke!"</div><div><br /></div><div>"I've got it covered," Vanessa began, but Bobby rummaged through the pocket of his jeans and handed her a dollar.</div><div><br /></div><div>"Here, honey...would you mind getting me a diet coke too?"</div><div><br /></div><div>She smiled at him and nodded, feeling like she was about six years old, and made her way down the hall.</div><div><br /></div><div>She took her time, examining all of the drinks and the snacks in the vending machines, checking to see if there had been any changes since her last visit. After all, she did only come every other week, while Bobby came every Sunday. That way he got to spend some time alone with his mother too.</div><div><br /></div><div>Nope, no changes this time. She slipped the dollar into the machine and selected diet coke twice, then grabbed both of the cans and headed back to the room. When she entered, the priest, Father Donovan, was there, and she breathed a silent sigh of relief. Usually they left shortly after the good Father arrived.</div><div><br /></div><div>Father Donovan had already settled himself in Vanessa's chair, and Bobby stood when she entered the room. "Oh," the priest said, "I should move." But Bobby reassured him that they were getting ready to leave and it was okay, then he leaned to give his mother a kiss goodbye.</div><div><br /></div><div>She kissed them both and told Bobby to keep a close watch on Vanessa and reminded him to be a gentleman. Usually it made Vanessa laugh, especially since Bobby was so sweet to her already. </div><div><br /></div><div>They made their way out to the car, then headed onto the highway. Five miles down, Bobby took a long sip of his soda and said, "So...do you want to talk about the other night?"</div><div><br /></div><div>She kept her eyes on the road, even though he was driving. "I didn't know there was anything to talk about."</div><div><br /></div><div>He exhaled heavily. "I thought you wanted to have a baby...I thought that would be something to discuss."</div><div><br /></div><div>"And I thought you had pretty much made up your mind...adoption or surrogacy."</div><div><br /></div><div>They rode in silence for another couple of miles before he said, "I just keep seeing my mother...I can't help but worry about passing that on to our child."</div><div><br /></div><div>She looked out the window. "Do you regret it?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Regret what?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Your mother. Knowing her. If the option had been to not have Frances as a mother, or to have her as she is, which would you choose?"</div><div><br /></div><div>He shook his head. "That's an impossible choice."</div><div><br /></div><div>"But that's what you're saying...it's better not to bring a child into the world at all than to have a child with schizophrenia."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Do you know what her life has been like? Look at her now. She can't live by herself, she couldn't hold a job or keep a marriage together or even care for her own children--"</div><div><br /></div><div>"And yet you love her more than anyone in the world...except maybe me..."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Except you." His fingers drummed on the steering wheel, a light sound breaking up the tense silence between them. Almost as if reminding himself, he murmured, "You're everything."</div><div><br /></div><div>She watched the scenery pass by them. "I love you too."</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Michellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01064645653840767072noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8431050131951486238.post-80965628545407582832010-08-03T15:27:00.000-07:002010-08-05T20:40:08.291-07:00Chapter OneGoren was sitting next to her on the train, tapping his foot nervously up and down the way he always did. She could remember, a lifetime ago before they ever became friends, that he always had that tap-tap-tap habit of his and it always drove her nuts. When she fell in love with him, it became a tad bit more tolerable, but only because she had told herself that he was adapting to her crazy habits as well. She was sure he had; God knows she wasn't an easy person to live with. She had to have her studio and would record all hours of the day and night; she liked her coffee each morning to suit the weather; she insisted on trying to dry clean her clothes in their dryer instead of just dropping them off like he did. But the tap-tap-tapping was incessant. It was his energy, and she knew there was no way to contain it.<div><br /></div><div>"Hey," she finally elbowed him. "You nervous or something?"</div><div><br /></div><div>He glanced at her, giving her a half-smile. He knew that was her polite way of telling him to be still.</div><div><br /></div><div>His foot became still and he sat silently next to her. Like a child, he was observing the passengers around them--the businessman who got on two stops ago; the kid with the ipod attached to his ears and bouncing up and down; the gangbanger three rows back, lounged out with his legs in the aisle. The hooker who looked half asleep, or drugged, with her head on her chest and way too much eye makeup.</div><div><br /></div><div>The train stopped and people stood to file out onto the platform. She followed him, hooking a finger into his jacket pocket. For some reason she was always afraid she'd lose him in the subway, even though he was over six feet tall and massive. She knew if she was looking she'd see him. But at a little over five feet, she knew he wouldn't see her. She'd blend into the crowd like somebody's lost kid.</div><div><br /></div><div>The air outside the station was cool and crisp, and she unhooked her fingers from his pocket to walk beside him. He was still quiet; she knew he was thinking about the case they were going to be working and mentally preparing himself. Sometimes he was too smart for his own good. She knew he challenged himself constantly and expected nothing less than perfection. Two months ago, when a suspect had gotten by them the first time, he had tortured himself for days about his misjudgment until she had finally, loudly, put an end to it. In the office, of all places. Everyone else was kind enough to pretend they didn't see or hear. She'd never done that before, never berated him in public, but enough was enough. Everyone was human.</div><div><br /></div><div>They were a block away now, and could see the perimeter marked off by crime scene tape and several uniformed officers milling around. He hadn't wanted her to come to the crime scene and had even spoken privately to Deakins about it. But Deakins trusted her, apparently more than Bobby did, because here she was, ready to profile the shit out of whatever there was for them. She knew it was a sex crime that had resulted in a murder. She had done these a million times, so she didn't know why Bobby had gotten into such a snit about it. She was much more able to handle the crimes objectively now than she had been when she first came back to work after her assault. That seemed a lifetime ago, but it didn't stop either of them from thinking about it every time a case like this presented itself. He still peered behind him, into her eyes, asking silently, are you sure? And she looked at him with as much confidence as she had, silently answering, hell yes.</div><div><br /></div><div>They rounded the corner and he pulled out his badge and introduced himself to the uniform in charge, then introduced her. She had a fancy little lanyard thing with her ID on it. The department had decided it was more appropriate for a profiler to have a lanyard than a badge, because technically, she wasn't an officer. That was true, and she didn't want to be an officer. She liked her job just fine.</div><div><br /></div><div>The uniform nodded at her, saying, "Ma'am...this is rather grisly...are you sure..."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Yes. And I'll need photos from CSU."</div><div><br /></div><div>Goren gave a curt nod to her, then turned back to the uniform. "What time was she found?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"An hour ago. We called you guys right away when we saw...we ID'd her as a cop's kid. He doesn't need to see her like this."</div><div><br /></div><div>Bobby had already rounded the body, pulled on his gloves, and was kneeling toward the wound in her head. Vanessa stood silently, taking the whole picture in.</div><div><br /></div><div>She was nude and had been tortured and executed. She was stabbed multiple times in the abdomen and showed obvious evidence of genital trauma. Whoever attacked her had tortured, raped, and killed her.</div><div><br /></div><div>Vanessa glanced up at the uniform. "Has the ME been by yet? Given you a time of death?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Yeah. Four this morning." He nodded over toward the police cars. "She's over there."</div><div><br /></div><div>Rayden walked through the crowd of cops to the medical examiner, who smiled in recognition. "Early morning, huh?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Yeah...what do you have so far?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Caroline Ivers, twenty, looks to have been leaving a club...there's a stamp on her hand....raped sodomized, stabbed and shot. The stabbings weren't fatal...they were all painful but didn't kill her. I'll check her for substances."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Run a pregnancy test too, will you?" Vanessa shook her head. "Just a feeling."</div><div><br /></div><div>The ME, Rodgers, nodded. "Sure thing. I'll have it to you by this afternoon." Motioning toward Goren, she asked, "Is he working alone?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"No, he gets a new partner this morning. Eames is beginning maternity leave."</div><div><br /></div><div>Rodgers grinned, then said, "They'll never know what hit 'em."</div><div><br /></div><div>Smiling back, Rayden replied, "Probably not." She made her way back across the parking lot to Goren. "Find anything interesting?"</div><div><br /></div><div>He shook his head and sighed. "A 22 to the head,maybe? Definite overkill...not a professional job. This was personal." He looked up into the sunlight, trying to catch her face. "You wanna go for breakfast before we go in?"</div><div><br /></div><div>She shrugged. "Whatever. You're paying."</div><div><br /></div><div>He grinned, then stood up and pulled his gloves off. Glancing back at the severely maimed body, he murmured, "Makes you want to get all naked, doesn't it?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Yeah. Not a chance in hell."</div><div><br /></div><div>He shivered, then caught her hand, leading her down the street to a local diner.</div><div><br /></div><div>********************************************************</div><div><br /></div><div>He had his usual, eggs and bacon and toast, and she had coffee and not much else other than a nibble off of his plate.</div><div><br /></div><div>"You really should get your own," he told her. "You crack me up...one of the richest women on the planet and you live like you can't afford a thing."</div><div><br /></div><div>"That's not true," she corrected him as she took a bite of his toast. "I just wasn't hungry. You know I don't like to eat a lot...it has nothing to do with money."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Yeah...it has to do with you being worried that Eames is hot or something. Ridiculous." He took another bite of bacon.</div><div><br /></div><div>"Look," she told him, "I trust you when you say you have no interest in Eames. I know her and like her. Plus, the fact that she's seven months pregnant doesn't make her all that enticing right now. Besides, when we got married I believed every word you said. Still do. But I can't change the fact that I'm not hungry. If it makes you feel better I will shove down some sort of breakfast item so that you can feel you did your job as a loving husband."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Hmm." A smile played at his lips. "Do I get to choose the item?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Uh, no." She took a bite of his bacon. "You act like you mind sharing your meal with me. I thought eating together was supposed to be a way to bond."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Yeah...if we both have a plate..." He offered her a fork. "Here." She took it with a smile and started on his eggs. "So...what did you think of the scene? Any ideas yet?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Mmm," she nodded, mouth full of eggs. "Pretty sure it was personal, like you said. Stabs to the abdomen sometimes indicate a pregnancy. I asked Rodgers to test her."</div><div><br /></div><div>"So you're thinking a boyfriend."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Not necessarily...but if she's pregnant, then I'm pretty sure that had something to do with it."</div><div><br /></div><div>He took a bite of eggs. "There was a lot of trauma...you know, genitally..."</div><div><br /></div><div>She looked up at him. "Yeah, I noticed. I think it will be good to get Rodgers' results back first before we jump to any conclusions."</div><div><br /></div><div>He nodded and turned his attention back to his breakfast. She lay the fork down next to him and checked her watch. Six-fifteen. Awfully early. She pulled on his jacket sleeve gently. "You okay?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Yeah. You?"</div><div><br /></div><div>She sighed. "I guess. I'd be a lot better if we were still in bed, sleeping."</div><div><br /></div><div>He smiled slightly at that thought. "You were too snuggled up to Bruce this morning," he commented, referring to their large mastiff. "I think it's time to get him a bed on the floor."</div><div><br /></div><div>She grinned. "Jealous much?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"No. Not of Bruce, anyway. He had you first."</div><div><br /></div><div>"True." She finished her coffee. "Well, I guess you meet your new partner in a couple of hours."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Eames is my partner...this person is just temporary...you know, twelve weeks to go in the field and cover the time she's off..."</div><div><br /></div><div>She didn't have the heart to argue with him. She knew Bobby's biggest fear, next to losing her, was losing his partner of five years. "Right," she concurred. "I'm sure you guys will work everything out...it will all be okay. And like you said, Eames will still be working desk duty for a couple more weeks."</div><div><br /></div><div>They paid the check and headed back toward the subway. Descending the stairs, she hooked her fingers back into his coat pocket.</div><div><br /></div><div>"Ness...you know I would never lose you."</div><div><br /></div><div>She smiled. "No...but I do know you'd try to find me, and you'd try really hard."</div><div><br /></div><div>*****************************************</div><div><br /></div><div>She was in her office working on the profile from the morning when Eames ducked in.</div><div><br /></div><div>"Hey," she said, barely above a whisper, then peeking out between the blinds in the office.</div><div><br /></div><div>"Hey...uh, what are you doing?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Watching Goren and Bishop. I'm not sure this is a good fit."</div><div><br /></div><div>"She's here?" Vanessa was surprised. She hopped up and joined Eames at the window.</div><div><br /></div><div>"Yeah...she's pretty traditional...Deakins is already chuckling about it. He says it will be good for Goren to stretch working with a more traditional detective."</div><div><br /></div><div>Vanessa didn't hear what Eames said after that. She was too busy taking in Bishop. Tall, thin, twenty-something Bishop. Red haired, fair-skinned, blue-eyed, attractive Bishop. Damn. </div><div><br /></div><div>"Huh?"</div><div><br /></div><div>Eames sighed. "I said Bobby's going to be pissed this whole time...you know how he does with people who don't go along with his program."</div><div><br /></div><div>Vanessa shook her head. "I think you don't give him enough credit. He's a good man and a good detective. He'll listen if he thinks she's on to something." Why the hell would Deakins pick a model to be her husband's partner?</div><div><br /></div><div>Eames snickered. "Yeah, maybe." She let the blinds go. "I guess I should go back out there and get to work. Maybe I can help her adjust."</div><div><br /></div><div>Vanessa made a face, but changed it quickly when she saw Eames look at her. </div><div><br /></div><div>"What, Ness?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Nothing. Absolutely nothing at all." She turned back to her desk and sat down. "It would've been thoughtful of Deakins to team him with somebody who didn't look like she'd been on the cover of Cosmo."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Are you serious?" Eames put her hands on her hips. "You do realize how crazy he is in love with you...that hasn't changed a bit since day one."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Right." She mindlessly began typing on her computer. "I'll keep that in mind."</div><div><br /></div><div>Eames shook her head. "Don't do this to yourself," she told Vanessa. "Don't doubt what you have." She opened the door and walked out.</div><div><br /></div><div>Wishing she had the same confidence as Eames, Rayden turned her attention back to the case at hand.</div><div><br /></div>Michellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01064645653840767072noreply@blogger.com0