It's a new chapter! Enjoy!

Un-beta'ed, as always.

- o – o -

Chapter Seven: Scales

As Dana drove to the cake shop after work on October 31st, she half-wondered if she should have taken her mother's advice all those years ago. Mother had advised her to marry a nice lawyer or a doctor, having given up hope for her older daughter years beforehand—Eliza had been determined to become a live-in nurse, and was now doing so in Seattle.

Quite honestly, Dana thought as a fire truck rumbled past, marrying the lawyer or the doctor would have given her fewer headaches. Vince on the other hand… She wondered if she could get away with murdering someone who was a) believed to be dead, and b) believed to be Chess. Maybe the city would give her a medal…

Dana sighed, rubbing her forehead with one hand. She was nursing another work-related headache, on top of the problem with Vince being an idiot, and this baby was making it impossible to take any kind of pain reliever.

Today was Halloween, and that mean it was Trip's birthday. To make it worse, it was Trip's tenth birthday. Her husband was being a moron and refusing to attend because he had vigilante-type duties to attend to. Instead of attending his son's birthday, Vince would rather go gallivanting around the city in tights. He'd be lucky if she didn't clobber him the next time he decided to show up.

Well, that was how life was… Dana scowled at the picture of Vince and Trip she'd taped to the dashboard a few weeks ago. Her darling husband was going to be in the doghouse for at least a month for this transgression. Why couldn't he have been more like one of her clients, or (God forbid) Travis?

Dana shook the thought of Travis away as fast as possible. For one thing, she was still married to Vince. For another, Travis was her boss. For the third… Dana grumbled something obscene under her breath, directed at most of the men in her life. Why couldn't Vince be more like Kia's boyfriend? She'd only met Philips a few times, but he'd seemed charming enough—the only black mark against him was that he worked for ARK, really.

The public defender pulled her car into an empty spot in front of the cake shop, grateful that the store had a dedicated private parking lot. She really didn't want to deal with parking meters or the city's meter readers right now. The meter readers seemed to take a perverse delight in giving her parking tickets for the most inane reasons. (Did they carry rulers with them, or something?)

Although, Dana thought as she got into the queue in the crowded shop, maybe the meter readers weren't so bad. They were at least better organized than this…zoo. Thank god she'd put in her order two days ago. All she had to do was go up to the counter and give the cashier her receipt. Why Trip had wanted an ice cream cake, though, she had no idea.

Twenty-seven minutes later, she was out of the cake shop and back in her car. The shop owner's wife was Mexican and enthusiastic about pregnancies. She also happened to know Vince's father, which was a good thing for Dana.

The public defender finished off the cookie Rosa had given her and pulled back into traffic. Rosa was an amazing woman, although how she kept up with seven children and fifteen grandchildren Dana couldn't fathom.

Dana muttered another obscenity under her breath as the traffic jam she was now caught in got worse. It was fifteen minutes to six, and she was stuck behind the tow trucks and…another goddamn fire engine. She resisted the urge to beat her forehead against the steering wheel and pulled her phone out. Now she needed to call Travis and let him know she was late—and call Trip, so he'd know to let Travis in.

"Travis?" she asked as soon as the phone picked up.

"That is my name," Travis said.

Dana sighed and smiled in exasperation. "Are you still up for going over the Cordai depositions tonight?"

"Uh, I'm pretty much at your place right now," Travis replied. Dana raised an eyebrow. He must have walked, then. Poor Travis…

"God, I am so sorry, I'm stuck in horrendous traffic right now." Dana sighed and glared out the window at the truck in front of her, before returning her attention to Travis. "The cake place was a zoo, and… Trip is going to have to let you in." She sighed. "But he is super conscientious about letting strangers in, and I'm going to have to call ahead and warn him…" Her phone beeped and Dana pulled it away from her ear to stare at it.

"Oh come on. Really?" In exasperation, Dana hammered her fist on the horn. It did nothing to relieve her headache. This was going to take forever, and the damn cake was starting to melt. If Vince hadn't been so reluctant to attend Trip's birthday, she might actually been at home right now. (Last year, Vince had been the one to pick up the cake, and had promised to do so again if she went back to work like she'd been thinking about at the time.)

Dana groaned and leaned back in her seat, wondering how long it took to clean up a car wreck. Pity she'd gotten Trip's present wrapped during her lunch break. She could have had something to do right now. And where was her phone charger anyways?

At least she had something to do now, Dana thought as she began digging around in the glove box. Traffic wasn't going anywhere any time soon…

- o – o -

It was nearly seven-thirty when Dana finally arrived back at the apartment, bearing a half-melted ice cream cake and a present for Trip. The pregnant public defender sighed when she found her boss sitting on the landing outside her apartment, and wished she'd found her phone charger. Travis was probably going to give her another six feet of files to work through for this…

"Hey Travis," she said, coming to a stop on the stair just beneath the landing. Her boss looked up, a relieved smile on his face.

"Hello Dana." He spotted the packages in her hands and stood up, gathering his files under one arm. "Um… Should I leave, or something?" Travis looked a little bewildered and uncomfortable at the situation, and Dana couldn't help but feel a little sorry for him. She'd thought she'd mentioned it was Trip's birthday…

"No, no!" she said hurriedly, trying to juggle her things and dig around in her purse for the house key. "Please, stay. I…" She sighed, letting some of her anxiety about whatever it was that Vince was up to leak through. "It's Trip's first birthday without his dad, and…"

Travis smiled. "Alright, Faraday," he said, smiling in a teasing manner. Dana wished he would use her first name and stick with it, or just call her Mrs. Faraday and stop switching his moods around so much.

Dana smiled back and opened the door. She deposited her things on the table off the door and rushed over to Trip, who was sitting on the sofa, staring glumly at his history book. He had another black eye.

"Happy birthday," she said, hoping she sounded as apologetic as she felt. "I'm so sorry buddy, I'm…I'm oh, I'm no good at this."

Trip looked up at her, a look of sleepy confusion on his face. "No good at what?"

Dana smiled and shrugged. "I don't know."

"Hey Trevor," Trip said, looking around Dana to her boss, "you want some milkshake cake?" Travis laughed, smiling. Well, at least there weren't any hard feelings, Dana thought with a smile, considering that Trip had kept him out on the landing for over two hours.

"Sure," Travis replied. "Pour me some of that milkshake cake."

Dana laughed, feeling happier than she had all day.

- o – o -

When Trip came into her room at seven the next morning (a Saturday morning, no less), Dana wanted to murder someone. (Like her husband. Apparently gate crashing a casino party with Orwell was more important than his son's birthday. If it were possible, she'd try to kill him and the blogger with her brain.) And then her son showed her the compass Vince had left on his windowsill.

"Sweetie, go watch cartoons or something," Dana said, smiling. "I have to yell at your father."

Trip rolled his eyes, somewhat disappointed that his mother wasn't as excited about the present as he was. Dana waited until he was gone before dialing the number to Vince's cell phone. He picked up on the first ring. If Orwell was there as well, she could try killing both of them with her brain after she got an explanation.

"Vince," she said sweetly, "You and I need to talk."

- - o - -

So, what did you think? Good? Bad? Has Vince bought those running shoes yet? Drop a line and let me know!