One morning, not that different than her usual Saturday mornings, Roz woke up, not alone. As of the past two years, it had normally been Alice sharing Roz's bed, but she'd went to spend the night with Daphne (an angel for keeping her without pay!), so Roz had spent her friday night getting ready for a much anticipated date.

The man's name was Joe, an accountant, extremely attractive, witty, charming. Roz knew she would be the envy of every woman in the restaurant that night, being seen with such an Adonis.

but as always, things seldom went according to plans.

Roz rubbed her eyes, trying to put together the night's events. Due to a bit of an alcohol-induced haze, she wasn't quite her usual witty self at that time of the morning.

She was in her bed all right, but there were no signs of Joe.

That was right- Joe had totally blown her off. She only learned she'd been given the brush off when arriving at the restaurant, and seeing Joe making out with another woman. Some blonde, young bimbo. It was always a blonde, Roz had sighed bitterly.

But seeing as she couldn't very well return so early to pick up Alice, for fear of her having to explain to Daphne, or worse, Frasier, that she'd been unceremoniously dumped, Roz decided to head to a bar. The Sure Thing. If any night ever called for a quick pick me up, in either the form of a strong drink, a cute stranger, or preferably both, this was it.

And then, as Roz surveyed her bedroom, seeing a sport-logoed polo shirt, she realized that things had went horribly, horribly awry.

"Morning sunshine. " the words belonged to a very familar voice, as did the 'barking of a dog that followed that greeting.

Roz stared at her guest in disbelief...yes, once again, she'd let her gaurd down...and standing in front of her carrying a surprisingly pleasantly aromaed tray of breakfast, was none other than Bob "Bulldog" Briscoe.

Yes, that Bulldog. The one whom made her skin crawl. The one who treated women like sex objects, the one who unrelentlessly hit on her every chance he get, the coworker who just got on her every nerve..the same Bulldog she'd shared a night of sex with was now bringing her breakfast in bed.

God how did her life turn out like this?

the sad thing was, as of the past few months, Bulldog had been spending an awful lot of time at Roz's apartment. And an even more unsettling amount of time in her bed.

She hated Bulldog, she hated herself for giving in to him so easily, and so often. She hated Frasier whom she'd once let slip the status of her relationship with Bulldog, and he always chastised her for giving in to his advances.

Right now she hated every damn thing in the world. Even the smell of his breakfast...although Roz did have to admit that he was a surprisingly good cook, turned her stomach. She hated the sight of that damn Bulldog staring at her, smiling like an idiot with a rose in his teeth, while carrying a tray of food for two, coffee included.

And suddenly she hated, hated, hated the smell of that breakfast. So much so that she ran to the bathroom, shutting the door, and threw up.

She wasn't even finished when to her shock, she felt Bulldog's hand pulling her hair back while his other hand gently patted her nape of her neck.

"Stop.."

she couldn't even yell at him, and she would have hated herself for that, if she wasn't so terribly, terribly sick.

and if that morning was awful, little did she know just how much she would hate herself in a few weeks, when she got a call from her doctor. A call that had shocked her, once before, when she'd learned she had been expecting little Alice.

Of course Roz loved her daughter, it had been that Roz had never imagined herself a single mother.

One child, one unexpected blessing, would be all right, Roz had told herself. She could deal with one kid.

But as she began to process the words from her doctor, that she, Roz Doyle, was indeed pregnant once again...several terrifying thoughts came to her mind.

Had she become immune to birth control somehow? Could it be that Roz would have to give up sex permantantly?

As much as that thought scared her, it was the realization of things to come that scared the living daylights out of Roz, more than anything, anything in her life ever had.

Roz Doyle was now pregnant, and worse than that... she was pregnant with Bulldog's child.

As much as Bulldog played up the 'carefree bachelor' role, Roz knew that Bulldog was quite good with her little Alice, who did seem to love him in her own toddler way.

Getting rid of Rick, Alice's father had been relatively easy.

But something told Roz that beneath Bulldog's rough exterior, lay a man who wouldn't walk away from his child so easily.

18 more years of parenting, of sacrificing, of learning to balance her personal, work and home life...

and 18 years of Bulldog Briscoe.

Why didn't Frasier stop her. Of course he had warned Roz, which made things all the worse.

She couldn't tell Frasier, and she sure as hell couldn't tell her mother.

Not to mention her stupid sisters.

For some strange reason, Roz knew there was one person in the world whom she could share her news with, whom she should share her news with...and in a weird way, whom she wanted to, ever so slightly share her news with.

And, out of the blue, as if he had a sensor alerting himself to Roz's every moment of self doubt and vulnurability, Bulldog was at her home.

It would be a mistake to even open the door. It would be catastrophic if she were to reveal to him that she was pregnant, that it was his baby.

She hated Bulldog, of course.

But it was through her tears that she opened her door, and she knew that even just a little bit, she also needed him very, very much.

tbc