Ex-Special Agent Eunice Bloom had a lot of time to think at the monastery. She and Paul Smecker had caught up during that boat ride along the coast. She hadn't quite forgiven him yet for faking his death AND NOT TELLIN' HER ABOUT IT! But she was so glad to see him that she figured forgiveness wouldn't be long in arrivin'. It's not like she wouldn't have done the same thing if she had to.

They'd discussed some plans regarding the Saints but details were on hold. The boys were wounded and Romeo was unconscious. Events would have to wait until ever'body was a little healthier. They were safe for now. Gorgeous George was Smecker's 'little bird' and he had contacts in Hoag. How in the hell had Smecker known Gorgeous was grateful to the Saints for sparing him, even after causin' him to shit his Speedo, taping him to a catering cart and playing Russian Roulette with the possible prize of a bullet to the brain. How in the hell had Smecker even known about it? Eunice was impressed anew at his omniscience. He was the only man she'd ever really admired, truly liked. Well, maybe one other.

And that one was the subject of her ruminations in this monastery. She actually enjoyed life here. Things had been crazy those last weeks in Boston and a little downtime was appreciated. But it did give her too much time to think. About the MacManus boys' loss of their father, Il Duce. About David Greenly dead and gone. About Dolly and his grief. About Duffy. Duffy and those few hours together before she had to get the hell out of Dodge.

She recalled in vivid detail that day with Duffy. The heat, the aching need, his tongue on her tit and fingers on her clit and later vice versa. The first time had been fast and hard and over too soon. They took their time in the second round and the third was slow and easy and tender, too, when Duffy whispered her name against her neck. She didn't even know his first name. She'd seen it in a file somewhere when she was studying up on the three detectives but it hadn't really registered and her usually reliable memory couldn't bring it back to her.

It hadn't been just shared grief over Greenly's death although that was certainly a factor. There had been something between them from the git go. A fuckin' frisson runnin' through her ever' time she saw him. She had ignored it at first, fought it back later and finally given in with no regrets. And now she couldn't get him out of her head. Or the rest of her body. She got a little over-stimulated remembering all they had done to and for and with each other. She was not supposed to fall for a local cop. She was an FBI Special Agent. Well, she used to be. A genuine star at Quantico and the protégé of Paul M. Smecker.

The monastery wasn't the party palace that Smecker had suggested but neither was it as strict as she had expected. It was soothing to live a life regulated by the canonical hours. As a guest she didn't have to comply with the monks' schedule or rules but Eunice was nothing if not grateful for their hospitality and she showed it by toning down her usual flamboyance. She gave up her risqué wardrobe, makeup and stiletto heels. She dressed simply, tied her hair back and wore flats. It was surprisingly comfortable. She knew she wouldn't want to live like this forever but she was likely to be here for awhile and it was best to fit in. Eunice knew Smecker would try and sort out her legal issues but that could take some time and there were other considerations besides her. She sensed a lot of politics were playing out at higher levels but she wasn't privy to that circle yet. Smecker was. He showed up a month after she arrived and once again had something to say about her new look.

"From Betty Boop to novitiate in one month is quite a transformation." He studied her for a moment. "It suits you. You're blooming, if you'll pardon a bad pun."

He gave her an update and a letter from Duffy. "Does the detective have a crush or is he just sharing news with a former colleague?"

"Nice penmanship," Eunice said flatly, deliberately changing the subject. She certainly wouldn't be opening it in front of him. It was true that Duffy did have a decent hand.

Smecker nodded. "That is the handwriting of a man who was whacked by a nun on a regular basis."

She opened it later, dread mixing with delight. And almost fell off the bed in her guest room accommodation for visitors on retreat.

Dear Eunice,
We were careless. You'll tell me if there is something I should know or anything you need?
I hope you're well.
D

She was stunned. And then she started counting. And then she got mad because he had thought of it and it hadn't even crossed her mind despite the fact that she knew as well as he that they hadn't used protection. Hadn't even discussed it. It was completely wrong that her partner in a one-afternoon stand should be more aware of her bodily functions than she was.

She never left the grounds of the monastery, not even for the small village a few miles away. She wouldn't compromise security by sneakin' off and she wasn't going to ask one of the monks to pick up a pregnancy test at the pharmacy. She went to the infirmary and explained her need to the priest who was also a doctor. A few hours later her suspected pregnancy was confirmed.

How the fuck had this happened? Okay, that was a rhetorical question because 'fuck' was exactly how it happened. Except that it hadn't felt like just fucking at the time. And it still didn't a month later. If she wasn't hard as nails and devoid of sentimentality, she might have said they made love. Duffy probably called it scoring. No, that wasn't fair. He had written a responsible letter. She didn't need or want or expect anything from him, but he deserved a reply.

D,
Yes, I am with child. Do you golf? If so, congratulations on your hole-in-one. Or perhaps you bowl. Strike!
I'm well and I don't need anything. I'm keeping the baby.
E

It was pissy and she knew it but she was in a mood so she sent it anyway. She felt bad later but damn it, she couldn't stand to think of him being proud of fulfilling his biological imperative to reproduce in one try. Three tries, actually, and it was prime time during her cycle.

She had told the Saints that two of 'em were scared and the other horny but when Murphy seemed likely to start a guessin' game about which one, she shut him down. Because going any further could give somethin' away that should not, Could Not, WOULD NOT be discussed.

Fact was, Dolly and Greenly were truly scared. It had been eight years and they had got comfortable with their past and suddenly there might be consequences looming. Duffy was nervous but not scared. He was quieter and steady and thought a little deeper than the other two. They were all horny to a certain degree. Dolly's was the worshipful I-know-I-don't-have-a-chance-in-hell type of horniness. Greenly's was the smitten I'm-funny-and-people-like-me-so-maybe-I-have-a-chance-in-hell type. She was accustomed to dealing with both those flavors and several other garden-variety kinds of horniness. But Duffy wasn't just horny, he was hungry for her in a way she wasn't used to. She could see it in his eyes. And then she started feeling herself reciprocate.

She was always bragging how smart she was, and Smecker had called her clever, so how could she have so forgotten practical reality as to allow this to occur? And how could she be a mother? She might not be nearly smart enough to raise a child.

Would Duffy offer to marry her? He seemed like the type to want to make an honest woman of someone he impregnated. Well, that was out of the question. She did not need a man. Except for her insecurity about raising a child. A little help might be nice. And a kid should have a father if at all possible. All three of them were going to be connected for life no matter how the domestic arrangements ended up.

Exactly what was she looking for in a baby daddy that disqualified Duffy? He was basically a very decent man. Nice-lookin' although not as cute as those twins. But those boys weren't her type and would be impossible to live with anyway. Duffy wasn't as smart as her but he was no dummy either and she thought he might have some insights into life that she was lacking. Would he let her walk all over him? She liked to be in control but had a suspicion that he would have his way when it really mattered and most likely without any fuss. Unlike herself. She enjoyed makin' a fuss. He was presentable. He had good manners. Well, except for that 'fuck' thing the first minute they met and to be fair, he was under a lot of stress at the time. They shared the same sense of justice or they wouldn't both be helping the Saints. Irish Catholic solidarity might also be a motivation for Duffy. That was a difference between them. She was a long-lapsed Lutheran from the Deep South. But not that different since Lutherans were a subset of Catholicism, born of Martin's creative differences with the Church half a millennium ago. Eunice wasn't religious in the traditional sense. Not anymore. Not after all she'd seen and some of what she'd done. But the kid should be raised Catholic and that was all right with her. She was coming to the conclusion that their differences complemented each other.

Eunice was glad the monastery grounds were extensive enough to allow her a semblance of freedom. She walked a lot. Her relentless curiosity and restless intelligence needed an outlet and she found it in the library. The abbot even granted her access to his private reading room occasionally. She could be alone in the visitors' chapel since she was the only guest at the moment. She spent time there thinking about the baby, making tentative plans. One afternoon she was surprised to find a figure kneeling there. A man wearing a suit that looked familiar.

Duffy crossed himself, rose and turned to face her. His eyes met hers and locked.

"It's good to see you again, Eunice."

"I'm glad to see you, too ... I guess," she replied reluctantly.

He smiled a little at that as if he'd expected no different reaction from her. What right did he have to understand her so well, so fast? His eyes never left hers. Well, she knew him, too.

"Go ahead and check out my boobs and belly," she told him. "I know you're dyin' to."

He grinned then and let his eyes travel down. "You look beautiful."

"Yeah, tell me that in a few more months."

"I will."

He would, too. Crap, she was in trouble here.

He walked towards her. She was accustomed to her heels and felt tiny without them. He didn't ask if he could kiss her, just wrapped her up and did it. She decided to pick her battles and let it go. She even participated because there was no reason to be a bitch after he'd come all this way. And he had a nice mouth. And it had been too long since she'd felt his lips on hers. It was kind of involuntary when she reached between them. He backed away regretfully.

"I'll kiss you in the chapel, but no groping. I'm not easy, you know."

"You must have pulled some strings to get here. I didn't know you had the juice to find me."

"Everyone was glad to help the guy who knocked up Eunice Bloom."

She smiled. She knew he hadn't breathed a word. "Asshole. No one knows."

"Not unless you told them. Or Smecker guessed."

"He might have. He's a perspicacious bastard."

"You're feeling okay?"

"A little morning sickness, but I'm fine."

"Your breasts look bigger but you're not showing yet."

"I'm only two months along."

"Do you regret what happened?"

"You mean the sex or the pregnancy?"

He hesitated. "Both. Either."

"Neither," she replied. "I try not to have regrets. Life is a series of circumstances. Accept 'em and move on if you can't change 'em."

"Have you thought about us being together? Legally, I mean."

"I knew it! I knew you were the kind to propose out of some misguided sense of duty."

"We could try living together instead, see how it goes."

Eunice was silent. She hadn't liked the idea of him proposing out of obligation and now she didn't like him backing out so easily. There was no satisfyin' her.

"I brought these in case you would consider it." Duffy handed her a jeweler's box.

There were two rings: His was a plain band. Hers had three diamonds channel-set into the band. It was beautiful without being gaudy. She just knew the diamonds represented him, her and their baby.

"I didn't get a separate engagement ring because ..."

"I know why," she interrupted. "A stone set on top of a ring snags on ever' damn thing, especially when you're pulling on crime scene gloves."

"I was going to say I couldn't afford it but I like your explanation better."

She was still looking at the ring. "I love it."

"I love you. Are you going to marry me?"

She sighed. "I had no such intention. Until I saw you."

"If that's a yes, I'm glad I showed up instead of writing again."

"It's probably a bad idea but this seems to be an occasion for throwin' caution to the wind so yes, I'll marry you."

"It's not just because you're pregnant, is it?"

"Of course not. I don't need to be married to have a kid."

"I meant, are hormones the reason you agreed?"

"How would I know? I've never been pregnant before. But I do love you. I hope this isn't a mistake. I don't want to hurt you."

"I'm a big boy."

"Slightly larger than average is all."

He laughed. "Thanks for noticing. And remembering."

She laughed, too. Why did it have to be so easy with him?

"Can you afford the rings? I know what cops are paid."

"I'm 40 and I haven't been spending money on a family. I can afford wedding rings."

"Why haven't you married?"

"Too busy sleeping around to settle down."

"If I thought that was true we wouldn't be havin' this conversation. Is there anythin' weird about you that I should know?"

"The truth is I'm not married because I hadn't met you yet."

Why did he always have the perfect answer? And he wasn't just telling her what she might like to hear.

"No bling on your ring?"

"I don't want to look like a pimp."

"Speaking of johns, what's your first name?"

"Brian."

"Brian Duffy. Could you be any more Irish?"

"My middle name is Patrick."

"I stand corrected." Eunice's eyes narrowed. "Oh god, tell me you did not join the Boston Police Department because of your initials."

"You noticed that, huh? No, my Dad and Grandad were on the force."

Eunice thought of something she meant to make clear. "I'm not changing my name. I've earned my reputation as Eunice Bloom."

"I understand. Can the baby be a Duffy?"

"Sure." Once again she was irritated because he was being so reasonable. She dismissed it.

"So how do we get married? I can't leave the monastery."

"If we look around, there might be a priest here who could do it."

"A religious ceremony? I'm not Catholic."

"It's not a deal breaker but I'd like to be married in the Church if you don't object. I spoke with the Abbot. He said you'd been reading a lot. He'd like to visit with you about the Roman Catholic faith. Kind of an expedited instruction in Catholicism. Just a few hours tomorrow morning."

"All right," Eunice agreed. "I'm surprised he doesn't want us to do couples counseling."

Duffy cleared his throat. "Uh, that's after lunch. Then we can be married before dinner."

Eunice gave a long-suffering sigh. She recalled thinking Duffy might be likely to get his way when it mattered and here it was happening already. Well, why not? She was taking this commitment seriously.

"Why are they bending the rules for us?"

"They're hoping to save the soul of a Protestant before she gives birth to a Catholic."

The next day passed as planned. Eunice actually enjoyed discussing theology with the Abbot and another priest. She was amused that it was two to one and she held her own. The couples counseling was a little embarrassing since by now everyone was aware that she and Duffy had not saved themselves for their wedding night. But the priest-psychologist who did the session with them wasn't shocked or censorious. No doubt he'd seen all kinds of relationships and probably figured that she and Duffy had as good a chance as any.

The holy sacrament of matrimony was celebrated with a nuptial mass in the visitors' chapel. It was pretty with late afternoon sunshine slanting through the stained glass windows. The monks held a little reception afterwards with wine – she was allowed three sips – and a cake to die for. She wasn't the only woman. A couple of local nuns Eunice had met in the previous weeks were there to support her. That evening she and Duffy returned to guest accommodations to find that Duffy's things had been moved to her room.

"It appears our compatibility in bed that first time wasn't a fluke," Eunice said after their marriage was officially consummated.

"Did you really believe it might be?" Duffy asked with surprise.

"It was a possibility."

"So you married me anyway, thinking we'd already had the best sex we would ever have? That's sweet, Eunice. But now I'm going to have performance anxiety. I can already feel the pressure."

"That 'pressure' is because you're hard again. And we don't have much time so start performin'." Duffy had told her he could only stay three more days.

Later he told her: "I'm going to miss this."

"There's a thing called masturbation that will help."

"And I intend to. But I meant I'm going to miss being with you. We can't even call or email."

"When can you come back?"

"I should be able to get away a couple of times before the baby is due. And I'll be here when it's born."

"Maybe I'll be back in the States by then."

"I hope so. But it might be too soon for that to happen."

"Do you want to know the sex? I can find out when I have an ultrasound."

"There are few real surprises in life. Let's wait. We can pick names for both."

"I'm picking the name," Eunice said firmly. "But if you give me your choices, I'll take it under advisement."

Neither of them voiced the possibility that if the baby was early or there were complications, he was too far away to get here with any speed. It wasn't ideal but sometimes life took a sharp turn. They had entered the world of the Saints with their eyes open. They couldn't change circumstances, not right now. And they had no regrets anyway.

Things had a way of workin' out. Eunice Bloom Duffy was confident of her ability to make them work out if that's what it took.