I think this story was in my head even as I was writing Unorthodox Methods, but it took me a little time to get around to it. And then in the middle of it, the idea popped up for the same type sequel, only from John's point of view. Look for that one very soon. If you haven't read Unorthodox Methods, it's available at http://gwis2.circ.gwu.edu/~betha/fanfic.htm or you can e-mail me at betha@gwis2.circ.gwu.edu and I'll send it to you. Comments gladly accepted!
All characters belong to CS, GG, S/MP, NBC and the incredible cast and crew of Profiler. I'm only borrowing them, and I promise not to make any money off them while they're here, and to put them back when I'm finished.
Consequences & Awareness
by Beth Arritt
Copyright 1998
I'm tired of thinking.
I've been staring at the same case file for an hour, and all I can think is that I'm tired of thinking. For the last month, work has been my sanity. It's the one place where I can lose myself in someone else's mind and my thoughts are never my own. For no matter how horrible the crime, how gruesome the murder scene, it can't scare me as much as my own thoughts.
This week has been better. On good days, I can almost deal with myself. The rest of the time, I go back to being a scared, angry victim. Work is my easy escape; a way to be a victim without being myself, without thinking about what has happened because of me.
Until work no longer becomes an escape.
Until I'm tired of thinking.
I toss the file aside and jump up from the couch in one frustrated movement. Angel silently watches as I grab my coat and purse. "I'm going for a drive."
"Okay. I'll keep an eye on Chloe." She never asks where I'm going. I think she knows it's my way of dealing with everything that's happened, and if she has any ideas about my destination, she keeps them to herself.
"Thanks. I'll be back...later." I tap my foot impatiently as I wait for the elevator, so eager to be out it's almost like there's something chasing me. Maybe there is. I get to the car as fast as I can, and then I'm gone. I don't have a particular destination in mind, not a conscious one anyway. I often drive for hours trying to rid myself of everything that's upsetting me. Sometimes it actually works.
Most of the time, it doesn't. Then I end up at the least safe place I can think of, but the only place that ever seems to help.
***
The first time I showed up at John's door after our fiasco in the days following Coop's funeral, he was surprised. Since then, he hasn't been surprised at all. He just opens the door and ushers me in without raising an eyebrow. And still I hesitate before I knock on his door. Only the idea of being alone with my thoughts forces my hand to meet the wood. As I knock, I catch sight of my watch and realize it's well after midnight, but John answers the door almost immediately.
"Hey."
"Hi." I tuck my hair behind my ear, a nervous habit that I hate, but catch myself doing all the time anyway. "I didn't wake you, did I?"
John smiles at the question as he shakes his head. "I don't sleep." Our own peculiar secret password ritual complete, he opens the door wider. "Come in."
I walk past him and look around, the surroundings I've come to know easing some of the tension in my shoulders. As I sink into the couch, I close my eyes and breathe deeply. The couch smells familiar--a combination of leather, soap and cologne that belongs to John. The smell intensifies a second before the cushion beside me sinks and I feel the heat emanating from John's body.
"Bad night, tonight, huh?"
I nod without opening my eyes, then lean toward him and rest my head on his shoulder. He puts his arm around me and pulls me close to him, resting his head on top of mine. His free hand finds mine, and we sit there in silence. It's always like this. I show up unexpected, and he holds me for as long as it takes to chase away the thoughts. Sometimes we sit in complete silence, other times we talk about anything under the sun except work. When I can face myself again, I go home.
I'm not sure why he puts up with it. It can't be easy to have a depressed person arriving whenever she feels like it and using you to make it go away. But he does, and for that I'll always be grateful. I open my eyes and realize there are two mugs on the coffee table. "Expecting somebody?" I ask.
"You." He leans forward, pulling me with him, picks up one of the mugs and hands it to me. "I figured you'd show up tonight of all nights." I sip the tea without commenting. "Do you want to talk about it?"
I shake my head. "What good would it do?" I can feel his body tense and I know he wants me to talk, but he doesn't say anything. He doesn't have to. The tension is saying it for him. "It wouldn't bring Coop back. I should have expected the anniversary of his death to be hard, but I was hoping I'd be dealing with it a little better by now."
"After only a month? Isn't that asking a bit much of yourself?"
I put down the cup of tea and lean into him again, closing my eyes. "I don't want to talk about it." My voice is muffled against his shoulder, but he hears me loud and clear, because he falls silent. I can hear his heart, and his hand is stroking my shoulder in time with the beat. The combination lulls me into something resembling a trance. But the thoughts don't disappear like they usually do. The more I try to relax, the more they try to break through into my consciousness, until I'm no longer relaxing at all.
John notices the change. "What's wrong?"
I shake my head, trying to convince myself there's nothing wrong, but it's not working. "I'm fine."
"Sure you are."
He knows I'm lying. And he knows that *I* know I'm lying. He's just waiting patiently for me to admit it. But I'm not ready. All I want to do is run from it, much like the night I rescued John from the bar.
"Did you sleep last night?" I shake my head--not that he's surprised. My visits here are usually preceded by a couple of sleepless nights. Well, almost sleepless. I toss and turn and manage to get a couple of hours of sleep, unlike the days immediately following the funeral, when I didn't sleep at all.
That leads to memories of the cure for my sleeplessness, and the feeling of relief afterwards. Without even thinking, I lift my head to look at John, then lean up to kiss him. He allows it for a moment, then he pulls away gently. "Sam...." Before he can go any further I kiss him again, but he again pulls away and holds me at bay. "No."
I know he's right, but my emotions are screaming that it is the quickest way to chase away all the pain. "Why?"
"Because that's not the way to deal with this."
Our eyes lock for a long moment. "I know," I admit, finally pulling my gaze away from his. "I know that." I curl up by his side and he puts his arm around me again. "But it would be a lot easier."
"I know." He goes back to stroking my shoulder. "Believe me, I know." We stay like that, sleeping on and off the rest of the night. At dawn I go home, more from the need to change clothes and go to work than any ability to deal with my problems. As I leave, I can see in his eyes that he knows I'll be back again soon. And that it worries him almost as much as it worries me.
***
Eighteen hours later, a bad day and no willpower land me back at John's door. We settle on the couch and he puts his arm around me. "How are your sessions with Melinda going?"
The question puts me on instant alert. "Okay."
"Did you see her today?"
"I was supposed to, but we got so busy that I had to cancel."
"That's the third cancellation in the last two weeks, Sam."
I twist my head around to see his face. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing. Just an observation." I settle back into a more comfortable position and close my eyes. "But you are dealing with all of this okay, right?" I nod, wondering where he's going with his questions, but too worried about the direction of them to ask. Not that my silence stops him. "It's just that you seem pretty down, and...."
"I'm just tired. I can't shake this flu bug and it's making it harder to cope, that's all."
"You're sick?"
"Chloe had the flu last week and I think it finally caught me." I laugh. "I guess now you're really glad you let me in, huh?"
I can feel him smile. "Tell you what. Promise me you'll go to the doctor and get some antibiotics and I'll let you stay."
"Okay." I know he hasn't forgotten about Melinda, but he apparently decided to drop it for now, because he doesn't bring it up again. We just sit there in silence.
***
First thing the next morning, John stops by my office. "Hey."
"Hi." He comes in and sits down opposite me. "Just wondering if you'd made that doctor's appointment yet."
"You're not going to give up on this, are you?"
"Not a chance."
I sigh. "Fine, I'll call a doctor today."
"Or you could just go see Grace."
"You had this all planned out, didn't you?" He just smiles. "Okay, I'll see when Grace has some free time."
"I was just in there, and she's free now."
"Bulldozer."
He stands up. "That's me. Shall we go?"
"Okay." I follow him to the door. "Might as well get this over with."
***
Grace isn't the least bit surprised to see me. "John says you're not feeling so great?"
I shoot a dark glance in John's direction. "It's just a touch of the flu."
"We'll see. Have a seat."
John waits until I sit down, then apparently decides that I'll stay put without a guard. "I'll leave you two alone," he says as he heads for the door.
"You know," Grace comments after he's gone, "you really should see a doctor who practices on live patients every day, but John said you wouldn't. He's right, isn't he?"
"Not for the flu. Everybody goes through that once in a while."
"Not if they had a flu shot, they don't," she says as she checks my blood pressure. "And I gave you one myself."
"That doesn't guarantee I won't get the flu."
"No, but it makes it highly unlikely. Hold still." She sticks a thermometer in my ear for a few seconds, then checks the results. "So what are your other symptoms?"
"The usual. I feel tired, queasy, achy--pretty much blah."
"And you're emotional?"
I wonder just how much John told her. "Well, you would be too if you were sick."
"Probably." The conversation lags while Grace finishes her examination. Finally, she stops and stares at me for a minute as if I'm a puzzle she's trying to solve.
"Well? Can you tell John I have the flu so he'll leave me alone?"
"I'm not sure. There's one other test I want to do. But it'll take a little more time."
I see the look on her face, and suddenly I'm feeling very queasy.
***
The next morning I'm at my desk, pretending to read a report, when John knocks on the door. "So, Grace checked you out and sent you home yesterday?" I nod, not looking at him as he crosses to my desk. "And it was the flu?"
"No...no, apparently I'm perfectly healthy."
John raised an eyebrow. "Then what's wrong with you?"
Somewhere I find the courage to look him in the eye. "I'm pregnant."
"What?"
"I'm pregnant."
"Oh. Um...is it...um...mine?"
"It would have to be, yeah."
"Oh."
"John, sit down before you fall down."
He drops into the chair in front of my desk. For a minute he just sits there. Then he stares at me in shock. "So, uh...what are you going to do?"
"Well, I always thought I'd like to have more children, but that was in a world without Jack. And with a--" I break off, not wanting to hurt his feelings, but he gets the idea anyway.
"With a husband. I'm sorry, Sam."
I shake my head. "We already had that discussion. There's no blame here."
"Maybe there's no blame, but there's responsibility." He stares at his hands in silence for a moment. "Do you wanna get married?"
"Thanks for the romantic proposal, but I think I'm going to have to decline."
"Why?" He leans forward and studies me intently. "You *are* having the baby?"
"Of course. But John," I pause, trying to find the right words, "this isn't about just you, or just me, or even just the baby."
He sits back with a sigh. "Jack."
"That's right, Jack. He factors into every decision I make. If we go around declaring that the two of us are about to have a baby, he's going to come after you, and there won't be anything either of us can do about it."
"I can handle Jack."
"No, you can't." I get up, close the door, and come back to lean on my desk directly in front of him. "I'm going to let everyone think the baby is Coop's."
"Like hell!" He jumps up. "You can't do that!"
"I can and I will." I take a deep breath and hope he'll listen. "I can't do it again. I can't go through that so soon. I still haven't recovered from what happened to Coop, and now I have a baby to think about. If Jack found out that you were the father of my child, he would come after you, and he would kill you."
"You don't know that."
"And you don't know he won't. Face it, John, the odds are definitely in his favor. He hasn't failed yet."
A muscle twitches in his jaw. "I'm not afraid of Jack."
"It doesn't matter. I'm afraid enough for both of us." I take his hand in both of mine. "I want--no, I *need* for you to go along with me on this."
"I don't like this. I don't like lies, especially not about something as important as this."
"I know. And I wouldn't ask you if it weren't a matter of life and death."
"I always vowed if I had a child I'd be a better father to it than mine was to me."
"If Jack finds out you're the father, you won't get a chance to be one at all." I plead with him silently for a moment, and when he sighs, I'm fairly certain I've won.
"Okay. I'll go along, for now. But I reserve the right to change my mind if the situation changes."
I let out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding. "Thank you."
"Don't thank me just yet. There's still a chance he could find out who the father is, you know."
"Maybe, but I don't think he'll dig that deep. He'll congratulate himself on killing the father before he even knew, and go on with his obsession."
"Until we catch him. And we *will* catch him." He looks more determined than ever, and I suddenly worry about what will happen if John ever comes face to face with Jack. "But right now, don't you have to see some other doctor or something?"
"Yeah, I made an appointment for this afternoon."
"Good. I don't plan to just sit back and pretend like I don't care, by the way. I can't."
I nod. It's a concession I have to allow him, considering what he's giving up. I know how much it cost him to agree to this, and I can only hope he'll remember how important it is in the coming months. "I, uh...I don't suppose you'd like to give me a ride to the doctor's office?"
He blinks a few times before asking, "You're sure?" I nod. "Okay. What time?"
"2:30"
"I'll be here." He leaves, probably afraid I'll change my mind if he doesn't, and I go back to my desk, praying my plan works.
***
It's a silent ride to the doctor's office. Thankfully, I don't have to wait long once we arrive. The doctor gives me a brief exam, then we outline my schedule of visits for the coming months. Finally she gives me vitamins and a stack of literature and sends me on my way with stiff warnings about working too hard.
"So, when's the baby due?" John asks as he pulls out of the parking lot.
"You know how these things work," I tease, but he's not in the mood for jokes. He doesn't even crack a smile. "Eight months."
He nods, and for a few minutes silence fills the air again. "Sam, are you sure you want to play this game?"
"I don't want to. I have to. There are no other options."
"There are always options."
"No other acceptable options, then. Not to me." He pulls into his parking space and kills the engine. "Look, John, I know you have rights, and I understand how hard this is for you, but there's no other way."
"I gave you my word; I'm not going to say anything. But I want to make sure you have no doubts. You can have everything you wanted for this baby--"
"Except no Jack. This isn't forever. He has to get caught one day. And I'm not going to shut you out of all of this either," I argue, hoping I'm not making a mistake. "I'm going to need all the friends I have to get through this."
He looks at me for a long moment, his jaw set and his eyes so intense I suddenly understand how he could get a criminal to confess. "Okay." He takes a deep breath. "So when are you going to tell everybody?"
"I need to tell Bailey right away. The security around me may need to be tightened. Jack's not going to like this." I debate the wisdom of telling him the rest, but he has to know. "I have to tell Bailey the whole story."
"You mean including the part about me being the father." I nod. "Oh, great, so not only will everyone be telling you what a comfort it must be to be having Coop's baby, they also get to wonder why Bailey suddenly despises me."
"He won't despise you."
"He'll think I'm a total bastard for taking advantage of you."
"Stop saying that. If anyone was taken advantage of it was you. I used you. It wasn't fair of me to do it, and it isn't fair of me to ask you to keep quiet either, but I'm doing it anyway. Trust me, you'll look like a saint by the time I finish talking to Bailey. He'll wonder why you put up with me."
He laughs bitterly. "I doubt that. But let's get it over with."
***
John wants to go with me to tell Bailey, but I insist on telling him myself. He's on the phone when I knock on his door, but he waves me in. After I shut the door and have a seat in front of his desk, he sees the look on my face and cuts his call short.
"What's wrong?" he asks as he hangs up the phone.
"I guess there's no easy way to tell you this, so I'll just come right out and say it. I'm pregnant."
Over twenty years in the Bureau have taught him how to hide a reaction, but this catches him off-guard. His eyes widen. "You're what?"
"I'm pregnant."
He thinks for a moment. "I'm not sure if I should say 'congratulations' or 'I'm sorry to hear that.'"
That forces a smile out of me. "Sort of what I thought when I first got the news. But after thinking about it, I'd prefer the congratulations."
"I was hoping that would be your answer. So how far along are you?"
"A month."
"Oh. I didn't know you and Coop had gotten back together before..."
"We didn't." The confusion on his face would be funny under different circumstances. "It's not Coop's."
"Oh."
"The baby... " I find I can't quite look him the eye as I tell him this, "the baby is John's."
"John *Grant*? How the hell did that happen?"
I have to laugh at his reaction. "The usual way."
"Sorry. What you do with your life is your business, but...." He finally just looks at me as if he has no idea what to say.
"When I was home alone after the funeral, I didn't sleep for days. Literally. I sat on the couch and stared into space. Then one night John was at a bar, dealing with things in his own way, and he needed a ride. He wasn't in any shape to be alone, and neither was I, really. So I took him back to the firehouse, and--"
"He took advantage of you," Bailey interjects. "I'll kill him."
"No! We talked. I didn't want to deal with Coop's death. I was trying so hard to forget--all I wanted was to forget. I took advantage of him."
"I don't think it works that way, Sam."
"Yes, it does. I'm not stupid--I knew he was attracted to me. I used that and the fact that he was drunk to find some kind of release--all so I could sleep. It was reprehensible."
Bailey glances at my stomach. "I think you've paid for it."
"Maybe."
He studies me for a long moment. "So you're okay with this?"
"I'm dealing with it. And I'll be fine."
"Okay. Then we need to talk about more security. For you and for John."
"Um, Bailey, about John... I'm not telling anyone else he's the father."
"Then what are you telling them?"
"Nothing. Everyone will assume it's Coop's, and that's fine."
His eyes narrow. "And it's fine with John, too?"
"I don't know that I'd say it's fine, but he's agreed to let me do it."
"Why? He has a responsibility."
"Bailey, please. You know him well enough to know he was more than willing to take responsibility."
He shakes his head. "Then what--you're worried about Jack, aren't you?"
"If he thinks he's already killed the baby's father, he'll leave John alone."
"And if he figures it out?"
"We just have to make sure that doesn't happen."
***
John must have been watching my office, because less than three minutes after I sit down he's knocking on my door.
"Come in." He shuts the door behind him and takes a seat in front of my desk.
"So how did it go with Bailey?"
"Fine. He thinks you're wonderful. I, on the other hand, am a horrible person, but since I'm pregnant he's willing to forgive me for now."
"And what does he think about Jack?"
"He agrees with me." I can see the disappointment in his eyes. "You were hoping he'd think it was safe to tell the truth, weren't you?"
"I know better. Still..."
"I'm sorry."
He laughs a little. "If you're going to say that every time I get disappointed over something about this situation, you'd better just make a recording right now. From now on, no more apologizing."
"You're right, I'm so--" I catch myself just in time, but my near slip brings a fleeting smile to his face.
"So now what?"
"Other than you and Bailey, the only one who knows is Grace."
"She knows that I'm--"
"No, she just knows I'm pregnant. I imagine she thinks Coop is the--"
He holds up his hand to stop me. "Please, do me a favor. If you expect me to get through this, don't mention the lie when we're alone. I'm gonna get more than enough of it in public."
It hits me for the first time just how much this hurts him. I knew it was difficult, but I was busy dealing with my own complications. Now I look at him closely for the first time since this started, and I can see pain in his eyes. It's almost unbearable enough to make me change my mind, but the thought of consciously making him a walking dead man is more unbearable, and I control myself. "I'm sorry."
"What did we say about apologizing?"
That I should be apologizing for never realizing just how amazing you really are? "Right. No more."
"Good," he replies as he stands up. "I have to get back to work. There are psychos out there that need to be caught."
I know he's thinking of a particular psycho. "John, be careful. Being in a hurry to catch Jack is only going to make you sloppy and get you killed. And then all this would be for nothing."
"I know. And I'll be very careful, I promise."
I'd rather he promised not to go after him, but I know better, so I just nod. He walks out without another word, leaving me to contemplate the months ahead with a mixture of anticipation and fear.
***
This has to be one of the hardest things I've ever done. If I had known how hard this would be when I decided to pass the baby off as Coop's, I might have reconsidered. But then John would most likely be dead, so maybe it's best I didn't know.
John has been incredible over the past several months. In public he's been a caring friend, and in private he's been one of the most adorable expectant fathers I've seen. I don't know how he's going to get through the delivery without blowing our cover, but I had to let him be my coach for the birth. I think Grace has suspected something is up between the two of us since I told her he was coaching me, but she hasn't said anything, and I'm sure she doesn't think he could actually be the baby's father.
I lean forward to make a note in a file, and I have to laugh. I'm pretty small to be six months pregnant, but it's still starting to put a little distance between me and the desk.
"What's so funny?" John asks from the doorway.
"Oh, another month and I don't think I'll be able to work at my desk anymore."
"That would be such a bad thing?" He comes further into the office and sits on the edge of my desk. "You should take it easier."
"Ha! When I was pregnant with Chloe I worked until the day she was born."
"If you go into labor at a crime scene I will *not* be responsible for my actions."
That makes me laugh again. "It seems to have worked out well for Gra--" I have to stop as I get a familiar feeling, and my hand automatically goes to my stomach.
"Sam? What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong. The baby's kicking."
"Really?"
I take his hand and guide it to the spot where I felt the little foot. "Here, feel that?"
"I don't feel--oh! Wow! That's amazing!" The look on his face is priceless. "Does that happen often?"
"Not really. He sleeps a lot."
"Is that normal?"
I can't help smiling. "It varies from baby to baby, but it's nothing to worry about. Maybe he just needs lots of sleep, like his father."
It was too easy to slip into this teasing rapport and sound like any other couple expecting a baby, but calling him the father brings John crashing back to reality. He doesn't say anything, but I can see the difference. He pulls his hand away, and his smile changes to the "don't upset the pregnant lady" smile. "Sorry."
"For what?" He turns his attention to the folder in his hand.
"John." He stares at the folder for a moment before he finally looks at me. "I'm sorry."
"I thought we agreed, no apologies."
"I know, but--"
"Sam, I agreed to this. And I knew what I was getting into. I should be thanking you, considering that you could be saving my life by doing this alone."
"Oh, please, I may be a 'single mother', but I haven't gone through one second of this alone."
He smiled. "See? There's nothing to be sorry about. Neither of us is missing out on anything, right?"
"Right." We keep telling ourselves that, but it's getting harder to swallow each time. Before I can say anything else, there's a knock at the door.
"Come in." Bailey opens the door and walks into the room. One look at his face and I know I'm not going to like this. "What's up?"
"A package just came for you." He hands me a small box wrapped in baby shower paper.
"Any idea where it came from?"
He shakes his head. "It's been scanned. It rattles, but it's not going to blow up on you when you open it."
I can't stop my hands from shaking slightly as I open the gift, despite the reassurance. Underneath the paper is a white box. When I open the box and work my way through the tissue paper, I find a rattle made in the image of a red rose.
"Jack." Bailey picks up the enclosed note and reads. "'For our baby.'"
I steal a glance at John. His teeth are clenched, and there's a muscle jumping in his jaw. I put my hand on his knee in an attempt to comfort him. "At least we know the plan is working."
"How's that?"
"He thinks he's gotten the father out of the way, or he wouldn't be sending me presents for 'our' baby."
"That's very comforting." He's very good at sarcasm, but his tone can't disguise the disappointment in his eyes. This was the first we'd heard from Jack since we found out about the baby. Pretend time was over.
Bailey puts his hand on John's shoulder. "One thing is certain. We won't have to find him. He's going to come to us."
"Great. This just keeps getting better and better."
***
"I don't understand what was so horrible about those pictures."
"Nothing, at least not to us, but we're a little more used to gruesome scenes than most people." We're at dinner, part of our normal routine following childbirth classes. They showed the delivery films at class, and several of the fathers didn't make it through them in the best of shape.
"True. I feel bad for a few of those guys when the big day comes, though. Their wives may end up going through half the delivery alone."
"See, that gives me one less thing to worry about. You can handle anything."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence." He spends a moment toying with his food before bringing up the subject I've been dreading all night. "About Jack..."
"There's nothing either of us can do about that that we aren't already doing." That it's getting harder to sit back and wait is something neither of us mention.
"You think he'll make a move before you have the baby?"
I shake my head. "I don't think he'll do anything until the baby is born. He thinks this is his child somehow, he's not going to do anything to jeopardize the baby's life."
"I don't get it. How does he think this baby is his?"
I can hear the possessive note creep into his voice, and I hope no one else is ever that observant. "He let me have Coop for a little while, until Coop served his purpose, then he took him away."
"So his whole purpose in letting Coop live was for Coop to father a child for Jack? That doesn't make any sense."
"Well, I don't imagine that was his intention at the time, but now I'm sure he sees it that way. He's probably congratulating himself on his instinctive knowledge."
John's grip on his fork gets so tight his knuckles turn white. "I'm sure you won't be surprised if I say that I really hate this son of a bitch."
"Join the club." I push my desert around my plate, then drop my fork. "I can't eat any more of this."
"Yeah, I'm pretty stuffed myself. Let's get out of here."
We pay the bill and John drives me back to the firehouse. He walks me all the way to my living room. There's a note on the coffee table that Angel took Chloe to Pizza Hut for dinner.
"How's Chloe doing with the idea of a brother or sister?"
That brings a smile to my face. "She's pretty excited. Still, she's been my baby for so long, I don't want her to feel left out. Angel's being a real sweetheart and taking her out to eat pretty much every night I have class."
"I noticed they're never here when we get back. I was wondering if that was because of me, or just a coincidence."
"I thought you and Angel were okay being around each other."
"We are, but still, if she suspects that I'm, well, that you're not telling the whole truth..."
"I'm sure she has no idea. She would have asked me about it straight out. She's nothing if not direct."
"I know." He fumbles with his keys for a few seconds. "I guess I should be going."
"Yeah... thanks for seeing me in."
He shrugs. "No problem." I follow him to the elevator, and as the doors open, he does the unexpected. He leans down to give me a light kiss on the lips before stepping on the elevator. "Night."
The doors close and take him away, but the feel of his lips on mine remains long after I've heard his car drive away. I don't bother to turn on the rest of the lights, I just curl up on the couch, as much as my stomach will allow me to curl, and think about what happened. It was inevitable, it was exactly what I wanted, and it was the last thing either of us needed. Neither of us can afford to fall in love.
***
By lunchtime the next day I still haven't seen John. Finally I abandon my attempts to work and go to Bailey's office. "Have you seen John this morning?"
He doesn't take his eyes off his work. "He went to check out the hospital where Greg Anderson worked, remember?"
"Oh, right. I totally forgot about that."
I can see his smile before he even looks up. "Checking up on him?"
"No."
"I didn't think so. Anything else?"
"No, that's all, thanks."
I finally manage to lose myself in my work when I get back to my office. A knock on my door brings me back. "Hey."
"Hey. How'd it go at the hospital?"
"Same as always. Lots of facts for you to go over and make sense of." He checks his watch. "Don't you have an appointment with Melinda?"
I glance at the clock. "Oh no! I'm going to be late!"
"I think you can get away with it."
"I hope so." I grab my purse and hurry out the door. "Can you call her for me? Her number's in my rolodex."
"I'll call her, so don't hurry."
"Thanks."
***
"Sorry I'm late, I got sidetracked," I apologize as I take off my coat.
"It's okay, I got your message, and I don't have anything else scheduled this afternoon."
"You're too good to me, you know that?"
She hands me a cup of tea as I sit down, then sits across from me. "Someone has to be. Speaking of which, was John Grant the reason you were late?"
"No, it was work, and I thought I asked you to stop meddling."
Melinda shrugs off my teasing admonishment. "Can I help it if I'm interested in your relationships as your friend?"
"Only as my friend?"
"Well, I suppose it interests me a little as your counselor too. You've finally put a lot of the trauma from Coop's death behind you, but you have a pregnancy to get through, and you still have to deal with the threat of Jack on a regular basis. I wouldn't be doing my job if I wasn't asking about the relationship you have with John."
"We don't have a relationship, not like that." Last night's kiss replays in my mind. "Not really."
She jumps on my last sentence. "Not really? What do you mean by that?"
"Nothing. It's just..." Honesty, Sam, "well, last night he kissed me."
"And how did you feel about that?"
I take a sip of tea to stall for an answer. "I'm not sure how I felt about it. I mean, I know how I felt about it, but the problem is I felt two different ways about it, and I can't quite reconcile the two."
"What are the different feelings?"
"First, that I know as long as Jack's out there I can't get involved with anyone. I'm already showing too much feeling toward John, especially since he's my coach, if Jack thought I was involved with John, he'd kill him."
"That's the expected response. What's the other one?"
It takes several sips of tea to force this answer out of me. "That I liked it."
"John's kiss?" I nod. "What, you liked the technique, or the fact it was him?"
That gets me to laugh. "Both. But how do I know that I like him for him, not just because of extenuating circumstances?"
"What extenuating circumstances?"
"Well, for one thing, I spend so much time with him. We work long hours together."
"And how much do you work with Bailey? As much as with John?"
"As much, if not more."
"Yet it's John you're interested in."
"I see your point." I can't tell her the biggest circumstance; it's too dangerous for anyone else to know. I'll have to work that one out for myself.
She studies me for a moment before continuing. "There's something you're not telling me."
I know she means about John, but since I can't tell her, I move on to other things. "I got a baby present yesterday. From Jack. A red rose rattle."
"That must be tough."
"He thinks of this baby is his."
"Are you worried he might come after it?"
I shrug. "If he did, it might be the best thing that could happen. What's likely to make him slip up more than anything? 'His' child."
"Only it's not his."
"No. And I don't intend to let him have it. Neither does... anyone else at the VCTF."
"Including John?"
"Of course. He works at the VCTF. And that's all there is to it." And all there can be.
***
I shift the pillow behind my back for the hundredth time, still trying to get into a position where my back doesn't hurt. I've abandoned my desk in favor of the couch, but I still can't get comfortable. I'm supposed to be reading a file, but I'm too busy contemplating my relationship with John.
In the past two months, ever since that first, fleeting kiss after class, we've danced around our attraction like moths around a flame. We can't leave it alone, but we can't give in and risk getting burned. So we share a few kisses here and there, in those rare moments when everything seems so normal that we forget about Jack. Then we try to pretend it never happened.
At least I try to pretend. John mostly goes along for the ride just to humor me. He's afraid to upset me, but I've learned how to read all of his looks by now, and I know how frustrating this whole mess is for him.
As if on cue, he shows up at my door. Not that that's a surprise, since he checks in at least a dozen times a day.
"How're you feeling?" he asks as he crosses the room to sit next to me.
"Fine. Same as I was when you checked on me half an hour ago and same as I'll be when you check on me half an hour from now."
"Oh, we're feeling grouchy, eh?"
"I don't know, but we're not feeling like being patronized."
"Sam, it was a joke."
I shift against the pillow, still trying to get comfortable. "I know. I'm just tired. I was up late. The future tap dancer here was taking lessons, so I decided to finish cleaning up Angel's old room to get the nursery ready for his or her arrival."
"Nice to see he's finally waking up."
I shoot him a dirty look and move the pillow around again. "Nice for who?"
He smiles and reaches behind my back. "Here, let me help." His long fingers begin to massage my lower back, and the tension there starts to ease.
I let out a deep sigh and turn to offer him easier access to my aching back. "Can I just get you to follow me around and do this twenty-four hours a day?"
"That might be a little difficult."
I close my eyes and roll my head around a little, noticing the tension in my neck now that my back is feeling better. "At this point, I don't care as long as it makes the pain go away."
He moves his way slowly up my spine, relaxing the muscles one at a time, at the same time trying to distract me. "Have you heard from Angel?"
"She called yesterday. She seems to be settling in in New York pretty well."
"Any explanation yet about her sudden desire to move north?"
I shake my head, still not opening my eyes. I never told him that Angel overheard a phone conversation between us and found out the real paternity of the baby. I don't want him to feel responsible for her leaving.
His hands have made it to my neck and I move my hair out of his way. I'm so relaxed that I'm half-asleep when his touch changes, moments before his lips replace his fingers at the base of my neck. I allow myself to enjoy the feeling, as he kisses his way up to my hairline. A shiver runs through me a moment before I'm hit by a pain that brings me crashing back to earth.
John stops and moves to where he can see my face. "What's wrong?"
I breathe deeply and bite my lip for a few seconds. Finally, I'm able to exhale and answer. "Hope you paid attention in class, because I think it's graduation day."
His response is a blank stare, followed by, "Huh?"
"The baby. I'm having the baby."
"I know, next month."
"No, now. I'm in labor."
"Oh." He blinks. "Oh! Oh hell!"
***
Before I know it, I'm in the delivery room with only vague recollections of how I got there. My perception of time has narrowed to the ever-shortening periods between pains. John's there for every one of them, despite the dire threats I'm making most of the time when another contraction hits. Just when I'm assuring everyone that I'm really, totally, absolutely sure I can't take any more, I hear the magic words. "It's a boy."
A boy. The activity around me increases, and I hear the doctor call John away for a moment, but I'm too preoccupied at the moment to pay attention. I have a son. Chloe has a little brother. And John... John has a son he can't tell anyone about.
Before I can dwell on that problem, a tiny cry brings me back to reality. I watch as the doctor hands the baby to John, who brings him to me. John has this funny look on his face, like he's afraid he's going to break the baby any second. He places the baby gently in my arms. "Say hi to your son, Sam."
"Hey there," is all I can manage. I fall instantly in love, and I can feel the tears welling up as those small blue eyes look trustingly up into mine. I look up, and a larger pair of eyes the same shade have the same effect. I reach for John's hand and entwine my fingers with his. There are so many things I want to say, but I can't find the words, so I try to convey my feelings with my eyes. Our eyes lock for a long moment, then he leans down and gives me a light kiss on my forehead. Before he can stand up completely, I reach up and pull him back to me, his ear close to my lips. He's given me so much, and the only thing I have to give in return is the truth. He deserves that. Before I lose my courage, I whisper, "I love you."
I can feel him stiffen, and as he pulls back, I see the shock and disbelief in his eyes. I know he thinks I'm saying this because I'm caught up in the moment, and he's partly right. My defenses are down, which is what gave me the courage to say it, but I don't mean it any less. Still, I can tell it's going to take time to convince him, so I leave it for now and turn my attention back to my new son.
***
"I swear, Sam, that's the first newborn I've actually seen with a full head of hair."
"It'll all fall out in a few days."
"Maybe, but if he keeps those blue eyes and that dark hair, he's going to be a real heartbreaker." Grace turns toward John, who's standing at the window. "Tell her, John."
He smiles faintly. "I wouldn't know."
We're all in my hospital room. Between doctors and nurses and the VCTF, I haven't had five seconds alone with John, even though he hasn't left the hospital. It's probably for the best; he's not going to believe me right now, and in my current state I wouldn't be able to resist trying to convince him of my feelings.
"He's beautiful, Sam," Bailey says as he walks into the room.
I can't conceal a grin. "He is pretty gorgeous, isn't he? But I suppose I can't really take all the credit for that." I glance casually at John, still standing at the window, and am pleased to see a smile cross his face in response to my comment. I'm about to turn back to Bailey when I catch sight of John's hand. "What happened to you?"
"What?"
"Your hand."
He looks at it, then sticks it in his pocket. "Oh, nothing."
"That's not nothing. Let me see it." He sighs deeply, then moves to my bedside and holds out his right hand, not looking at me. The back of it has several finger-sized bruises. "How did this happen?"
He tries to glare at me, but I can see a smile hiding in his eyes. "You don't know your own strength."
At first I can't figure out what he means, then it hits me. "I did that? In the delivery room?" He nods. "I'm so sor--"
He covers my mouth. "No apologies, remember?" he reminds me softly. I stare into his eyes for a moment, until he remembers we have an audience, and he breaks contact and pulls away from me.
Focus on something else, Sam. "So, Bailey, all of the security is in place, right?" I know it is, but it comforts me to hear it again.
"Everything's set. We'll know where he is twenty-four hours a day." We've put a tracking device in a metal bracelet on the baby's arm, and as a back-up precaution we've given him the same type of tracking device under the skin that we used against Jack in the past. I was reluctant to go that far, but both Grace and the doctor assured me it was safe, and privately John pointed out that both the baby's parents had used them and survived just fine.
"So have you decided on a name?" Grace asked.
"No, but we've argued about a name."
Grace raises an eyebrow. "We?"
Oops. "Chloe and me." I really need to be more careful. I glance at John again, but he's no help. He just gives me a smile and a slight shrug. He can't do anything that wouldn't look suspicious.
An ear-piercing alarm sounds and fear grips my heart. Two seconds later an agent comes running in and my worst fears are confirmed. "The baby's gone."
John moves faster than I ever thought possible. He picks up the tracking device from beside my bed and stops to order the other agent to give him his gun.
"Agent Grant, I can't--"
"Give me the damn gun!"
Bailey intercedes. "Do it."
The other agent hands over his gun and John runs out the door, Bailey close behind him.
***
I'm numb. Grace is sitting beside me, patting my hand. I'm not sure what that's supposed to do, but whatever it is, it isn't doing it. "How long?"
She checks her watch. "Ten minutes."
"Only ten? It feels like it's been a year."
"I know, honey." She pats my hand again.
"Do you? When's the last time a psycho kidnapped Jason?" I can't believe I just said that. "I'm so sorry, Grace, that was--"
"No, you're right, my son is safe at home. I don't know what it feels like, but I can imagine, and considering that it's probably a million times worse than I can imagine, I have a pretty good idea."
"How long?"
"Eleven minutes."
"I can't stand this." I pull the sheets back and try to get up.
Grace stops me. "What are you doing?"
"I'm going to find my son." I try again, but she holds me down.
"Sam, you can't do anything. That baby is going to need you here when they bring him back."
"What if they don't? What if Jack gets him too?"
"You can't think that way."
"I can't think anything else right now." I push to get out of the bed again.
Just then, John walks in holding our son. I take one deep breath before tears of relief start to pour out of me. He hands me the baby gently and sits down in the chair Grace has just vacated. "I wouldn't have let Jack get out of here with him, Sam."
"I know." I have to remember not to hold the baby too tightly; all my instincts want to squeeze him as close to me as possible. I take a close look at him to see that he's really okay before I ask the question I'm dreading the answer to. "Jack?"
"He's in the emergency room being treated." He has an air of grim satisfaction about that announcement.
"For what?"
"For being on the wrong end of a Glock." I don't have to ask; even if it weren't for the angry red splotch on his cheek that looks like it's going to be one nasty bruise, I'd still know that John was on the other end of the gun.
"Is it serious?" Considering the number of times I've wished him dead, I shouldn't feel bad about what I'm feeling now, but I still feel slightly guilty. Slightly.
John shrugs. "I didn't wait to find out. Bailey's keeping an eye on the progress down there, he'll let us know when there's news."
Grace clears her throat. "I'm just going to go down and see if he's heard anything," she says as she heads for the door.
John waits until she's gone, then he gives me and the baby a big hug. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine now. Thank you."
"For what?"
"Getting him back."
"There was no way that bastard was going to have him."
"I know."
Bailey and comes into the room and looks at us in silence. "What?" John asks impatiently.
"Jack's dead," he announces as Grace walks in.
I don't believe it. "How do you know? You don't know that it's him, it could be another decoy."
"It's him, Sam," John answers. "Trust me."
I study his face until I'm not sure I want to know what he's not telling me. "You're sure?"
"I have no doubt about it."
"Then it's over. It's really, finally over." I lean my head against John's shoulder. "I can't believe it."
"Believe it. He's gone, and he can't hurt you anymore."
I smile at him, then down at our son. "Hear that? How's that for the best birthday present ever?"
***
A few hours later things have finally calmed down. The hospital is removing the baby's skin beeper, which gives me a rest. I didn't let go of him from the time John brought him back until the doctor took came to remove the tracking device. It's a simple, quick procedure, and Grace is staying with him, more because she knew it would make me feel better than because she had any real desire to see the simple procedure. Bailey is out dealing with the aftermath of catching Jack, and I finally forced John to go get some food.
Not that I'm alone for long. Grace brings the baby back and lays him in my arms. "Did you miss him?" she asks with a smile.
"Very much." We coo over him for a moment until John comes back. "That was a quick dinner," I tease.
"Didn't want to be gone too long."
Bailey walks in. "I think we're about finished here, so I'm going to leave and let you two get some rest. Night, little guy." He leans over the baby and touches his nose lightly, then kisses me on the forehead and ruffles my hair. "Congratulations," he says softly.
"Thanks."
Grace picks up her coat. "I think I'll be going too."
"Wait." I take a deep breath and try not to think about what I'm about to do. "Before you both go, I have an announcement to make."
Bailey laughs. "We already know you're having a baby."
"Funny." I look down at my son. "I've decided on a name." My eyes lock with John's, and I hope he doesn't mind. "His name is Ian." John inhales sharply at the mention of his grandfather's name, but after a second the surprise wears off and he seems pleased.
"Ian Waters," Grace tries out the name.
"No." I'm still meeting John's eyes. "Ian Grant." I see more surprise register on his face, followed by pleasure. I glance at Grace, who looks mildly shocked, but she doesn't comment. I know I'll be doing some explaining to her later, though.
"Sounds like a great name to me," Bailey says with a smile. "Goodnight, Ian. Night, Sam." He claps John on the shoulder as he leaves.
"It definitely has a nice ring to it. Night, Ian. You," Grace says, pointing at me, "I will talk to tomorrow." She stops to give John a hug. "I guess congratulations are in order for you too?" He just smiles and nods. "See you all tomorrow," she says as leaves.
When Grace is gone, John sits down in the seat next to my bed. "I don't know what to say."
"Then don't say anything."
"You didn't have to do any of that."
"No, I didn't have to. I wanted to. You have been so incredible throughout all of this. And you've kept quiet about being the father, when I know you must have wanted to say something a million times, especially since Ian was born."
"You're not worried about what people will think?"
I take his hand. "You're the best father I could have asked for my son. So why would I worry about what anyone would think?"
"Now how can I argue with logic like that?" He leans down and kisses me softly. "I'm gonna get out of here so the two of you can get some sleep. I'll be back in the morning to see what time they're letting you out."
"Thanks."
John takes Ian and holds him for a minute, whispering something so quietly I can't hear the words, then kissing him on the cheek before laying him back in my arms. He kisses me again. "Night."
I watch him leave, and then I pull Ian a little closer until the nurse comes to put him to bed.
***
I'm in the middle of a wonderful dream when I wake with a start and look around my room. It's three a.m., and for some reason something seems wrong. Then I realize that for the past four nights Ian has woken me by now, crying with hunger. I look on the night stand, and the spot beside the alarm clock is empty. The baby monitor is gone, which can only mean one thing.
I get up and pull on my robe before tip toeing down the hall. The living room is empty, but I can see the lights in the kitchen. As I get closer, I can hear John's voice and faint baby noises. I don't want to disturb them yet, so I sneak quietly up to the kitchen and peek around the corner. The scene I see melts my heart. John, looking almost like a little boy himself with his sweatpants, wrinkled t-shirt and tousled hair, is walking around by the refrigerator, feeding Ian a bottle and talking.
"You have to understand that your mother needs her sleep, young man. No more of this fussing when I give you a bottle in the middle of the night. What's that?" He cocks his head and puts his ear close to Ian's face as if listening. "Well thank you, I'm glad you like my bottle technique. Tell you what, since you appreciate me so much, think maybe you could put in a good word with your Mom? Maybe she'd take a little more help."
"Who said he needed to?"
John's head snaps up as I walk into the room. "Uh... hi."
"Hi." I go over to the stove to heat some water. "Why would Ian need to put in a good word for you?"
"Oh, uh...well, you just don't always want to let me help with things like middle of the night feedings, and..."
"And so you snuck into my room and took the baby monitor so I wouldn't have a choice, right?"
He actually has the grace to look almost ashamed. "I wouldn't need to if you'd let me help a little more."
"You're staying in the guest room, you're always the first one to get him when he wakes up in the morning, and you've watched him like a hawk since we came home from the hospital, while I've lazed around and slept. I think you've helped."
"You were the one who went through all that stuff in the hospital, you deserve to sleep a little."
I take a few steps forward until I'm standing very close to him, then raise my hand to softly touch the bruise on his cheek. "You went through quite a bit in the hospital yourself." My hand drops to touch his where he's holding the baby. "During the delivery and after," I add as I trace the bruises I put there in the delivery room.
John stares at me for a moment before he blinks and takes a step back and looks down at Ian. "I think he's asleep again." He takes the bottle and puts it in the sink. "I'll just put him back in the crib."
I pick up the monitor and follow John down the hall to the nursery and watch as he puts the sleeping baby in the crib. He whispers something before he caresses Ian's cheek, then we leave the room.
"What was that you whispered to him?" I ask when we reach my bedroom door.
He looks almost embarrassed as he repeats the words. "'Fathers hold their children's hands for just a little while, but their hearts forever.' My mother used to say that to me every night--well, she said 'Mothers' but I figure it works both ways."
My heart does what can only be described as a somersault, and I'm speechless for a moment. "That's beautiful," I respond softly. "Is that what you said in the hospital?" He nods. "Ian certainly got lucky in the father department."
His mouth curves into a slight smile. "Not nearly as lucky as he was in the mother department."
"Well, now that we've affirmed the mutual admiration society, I guess it's time to get some sleep."
"Yeah." He hesitates for a second, then leans down to give me a kiss that lingers--longer than he may have intended, thanks to the pressure of my hand on the back of his neck. Finally we break the kiss. "Night, Sam," he says, his voice not quite steady. He waits until I'm in my room before heading back down the hall to the guest room.
For several minutes I stand at my door, still holding the baby monitor, trying to make up my mind. Finally, I make a decision, open the door, and head for his room. After a deep breath, I knock on the door. There's a slight pause, and then it opens to reveal a shirtless John. "What's wrong?"
"Can I come in?" He nods and opens the door wider. I step inside the door and close it, leaning against it for a moment while I try to choose my words, then just decide to come out and say what I mean. "I love you."
His eyes widen a little, then dart around as if he's looking for the right response. "Not exactly what I was expecting you to say," he says finally.
"You can't be surprised; I said it once before."
"But that was right after you'd just been through an incredible experience and you were pretty emotional."
"Which doesn't mean I didn't mean it."
He still doesn't look ready to believe me. "Sam... you've been through a lot lately, don't you think it's possible that you could be making decisions based on emotions and not facts?"
"I loved you before I had the baby. I fought it because of Jack, but even with that good of a reason I was having a hard time denying it. I'm not sure how long I've loved you, but I know it has nothing to do with circumstances. If there were no Ian, I'd still love you. If we'd never slept together that night, I'd still love you. It's just there, and there's no getting around it, no matter how many times I tried in the past." He stares at me for so long I start to wonder if I misjudged his feelings for me. "Look, I'm not expecting you to love me back, but I owe you the truth if nothing else."
He actually laughs. "Not love you back? I fell in love with you the second I saw you, don't you know that by now?" He stares at me for a second longer, then he pulls me into one of the tightest embraces I've ever experienced. Finally, he pulls back slightly and kisses me.
Some time later, we're lying in each others' arms on the bed, both of us silently enjoying the feeling. Finally, I lift my head to check the clock. "It's after four o'clock, I should go to bed." I start to get up, but he restrains me.
"Stay. Please?" There's something about his voice that's very compelling, but still I hesitate.
"John, I just had a baby, I can't...."
He's confused for a second, but then his face clears. "I know. I just want to hold you. That's all."
Considering I didn't really want to leave in the first place, I don't need much convincing. I lie back down in his arms. He turns off the light, and I drift off to sleep feeling complete for the first time in ages.