Author's note: Now we're cooking…

The more minutes that passed without him, the more profound was Sarah's need to find her husband. It was like an obsession, consuming her entire being. And with each room discovered to be lacking his presence, the worse she felt. A weight had begun to press down upon her heart. All she wanted was to see him, to know he was alright.

It was ridiculous, she knew. There was no reason to think he had come to harm. But Danny had said he was in the Anomaly Research Center, yet she could not find him there. Not in his usual loitering spots (if Captain Becker could ever be said to loiter)-the armory, training rooms. Not even in places he avoided like the plague-the science labs, the administrative suite.

Eventually, she no longer cared about feeling ridiculous for her unfounded worrying. Ducking into her dark office (yet another room devoid of the man she loved), she pulled her mobile from her pocket and tried to ring him. The need to hear his voice entirely overpowered any reluctance for being lectured in an overprotective manner. He could say whatever the hell he wanted, as long as she could just know he was fine.

The response she received was far more painful than a simple lack of answer. According to the peppy voice, the mobile she was trying to reach was not in service.

By the time Abby found her, she was sitting on the settee, still in the dark, staring blankly at a wall. It wasn't that her mind was flooded by panic or hysteria. No, it was more that shock had settled in, making her a bit numb. And she knew. She realized she had known before they had even returned from the cretaceous.

He was gone.

"Sarah. Sarah?" Abby was crouched down before her, but it took the distant woman several moments to recognize her.

"What's wrong?" the compassionate blonde girl asked.

"I-I can't find him," Sarah whispered, her voice cracking, as she continued to stare at the wall.

Abby didn't have to ask to whom she was referring. Instead, the young woman put on a reassuring smile.

"It'll be fine," she asserted. "You'll see."

"Hey, there you are," Connor said jovially as he popped his head in the room. "Why are you sitting in the dark..."

He ran out of steam as he digested the scene in the dim office, the melancholy mood sobering his own formerly chipper one. Abby turned to her friend.

"Find Becker," she ordered. His rakish black hair bobbed as he nodded his head. And without any further words, he was gone.

Abby moved to sit beside her, placing an arm about her shoulders. Sarah tried to give her a brave smile. After all, she was being rather ridiculous wasn't she? It was all in her head. She was simply having a hormonal pregnant woman moment, like when she had felt so lonely in the flat by herself that she had searched through the laundry bin, found one of his dirty shirts and curled up with it to nap, the scent of him lulling her to sleep. Or in those first few months when she went from hating him with a passion as she vomited till her throat burned in the morning to being in voracious need of sex and basically jumping him as soon as he passed through the door at night.

That's all it was. She was simply freaking out with the need for a cuddle with the father of her unborn child- their almost ready to pop, unborn child.

"Sorry, Abby," she apologized. "I'm being daft, aren't I?"

"A little." Abby smiled, her expression making Sarah laugh at herself.

"Connor'll find Becker," she continued to assure, rising to turn on the office lights. "And then you two can go home and enjoy a quiet evening together."

"So you can make anomalies and dinosaurs behave now?" Sarah teased, feeling better for shoving the baseless dread aside. "You are good."

"I know," Abby agreed, winking. "Now if I could get Connor to do the washing up, that would really be something amazing."

"Oh!" Sarah exclaimed shifting about and rubbing her belly.

"What is it?" Abby asked, concern showing in her brow.

"She's moving a bunch. Here," Sarah replied, reaching out for her friend's hand and placing it on her beach ball of a stomach. "Feel her?"

"Yeah," Abby said animatedly, her eyes wide, her grin even wider.

"Probably upset that I skipped lunch to go out and play with you lot," Sarah concluded, still struggling to find a position that pleased both her and the baby. Giving up, she stood, supporting her lower back with a hand. She began to pace.

Where in the hell was Connor?

True, her man could be bloody stealthy when he wanted to be, but he shouldn't be that difficult to track down in the ARC.

Almost on cue, a tossled black head appeared, followed by the rest of the tech geek.

He wasn't smiling.

Sarah and Abby exchanged a look. All the good humour left both of their faces, as they watched Connor silently slip behind Sarah's desk and begin madly typing at her computer.

"Connor, what's going on?" Abby asked. The knot in Sarah's throat was too tight to permit sounds from escaping, let alone words. Both women briskly crossed the office to look over his shoulder.

"Becker's not here," Connor said quietly.

Sarah's stomach lurched. Something was wrong. Horribly wrong.

"What do you mean? He's not in the ARC?" Abby questioned, although the look on her face belied her ignorant inquiry. She knew. They all knew. Even as Connor performed task after task, scouring databases so quickly that Sarah had no clue whether he'd legal access to them or not, they knew what they'd find. They hoped otherwise, but they knew.

"According to the records, he's never been in the ARC," Connor explained, eyes still focused on the computer monitor. Sarah wondered if he just didn't want to look at her. "Nor the military. Or anywhere."

"I'm going to be sick," Sarah announced rather calmly. There was no pain, no tears, for the moment. Only the most extreme nausea she had ever experienced. Her stomach heaved as Abby ran to her side, grabbing the bin and holding it out for her. Sarah retched and vomited until her stomach was dry.

The baby protested fitfully inside of her. His baby. Their little girl. The daughter of a man who never existed.

And there's the tears...

They poured forth like a flood from her eyes, a torrent of salty, stinging water over her cheeks. She wiped at them, persistent in the battle against sobbing uncontrollably in front of her friends. She didn't want to be weak. She couldn't be weak.

There was a hand at her elbow, another rubbing her back. She numbly let Abby lead her across the office until her shin bumped the sofa, and the younger woman sat her down. Once more Sarah found herself staring blankly at the wall, in the dark. Only this time, there would be no simple flip of the switch to illuminate her world. Not when he was...

She could hear the conversation between her team mates as faintly as if it were happening in another room.

"Danny didn't seem surprised that she's pregnant," Abby said. Her voice sounded distant, small, despite the fact she was still at Sarah's side. "He even said that Sarah's husband was here in the ARC."

"Right." Connor was barely audible, but the clacking of the keys pounded in her ears almost as strongly as her own heartbeat.

"I-I can't breathe," she suddenly choked out, gasping for air. Apparently, she were incapable of thinking about the loss of her husband and breathing at the same time. She tried to concentrate on the latter, but the pain of the former was a pressure crushing her lungs into pulp, squeezing her heart in a vice.

Abby's words were spoken softly and sweetly. And Sarah was thankful, in some small portion of her brain still capable of such considerations, for such a good friend. She coaxed her, distracted her, focused her concentration on her breathing, calming her no doubt in a way she used on so many frightened, wild creatures on the verge of pure panic.

"You alright now?" the gentle girl asked, tucking a strand of Sarah's hair behind her ear. Not trusting her voice, Sarah simply nodded her head. Breathe in. Breathe out. Lungs expand. Lungs contract. Baby kicks me hard, bruising tender insides.

Even with her eyes closed, she felt Abby leave her alone on the sofa. Connor had asked her to look at something. A lead? Maybe Connor had made a mistake. Maybe he'd walk through the door any second. Oh, stop lying to yourself! He was gone. Oh god, he was gone!

Focus. Breathe in. Breathe out.

There was excited whispering. And she just couldn't handle it.

"What is it?" she cried, her voice cracking, burnt from the purging of her stomach and tight from the knot that remained entrenched in her throat.

"Er...you handle this," Connor said quietly, hastily, thrusting some papers he must have printed off into Abby's hands. He had that animal-caught-in-the-headlights expression. "I'll tell Lester we have a Code Brown."

He bolted.

How could she blame him? If she was half the horrendous sight as she was the emotional mess...who wouldn't have run away given the chance? More than anything, she wanted to flee this whole nightmare herself.

What?

Abby was smiling. Genuinely smiling, even though she was desperately trying to hide the fact as she faced Sarah.

"Connor looked up your file," Abby began her torturously slow reveal. In reality, it was probably quite fast, but felt an eternity to Sarah's raw nerves. "And you are listed as being married."

Apparently, her words failed her. A sheet of paper was offered Sarah. Too damn curious, or in too damn much pain, Sarah harshly snatched it from her friend's grasp.

"Who the bloody hell is Stephen Hart?"

A/N: More coming very soon…