Written by Scooplet

Concept by Cheryl and Scooplet

Scarecrow and Mrs. King characters are the property of Shoot the Moon Productions and Warner Bros. Television. No copyright infringement intended. Not for commercial use. Sarah Stetson and Matt Granger are my creation, however, so please respect my right to claim ownership of them—I do not authorize permission to use them in stories not authored by me.

I Know He Watches Me, Part Two

Chapter Eight

Waking to his alarm much earlier than usual the next morning, Matt's first thought was of Sarah, who was lying near him. She was not snuggled up against him, as was her usual habit. Reaching for her, he guessed why. She was warm—feverish—her tank top slightly damp with sweat. He kept his hand on her back for a moment, trying to decide what to do.

Her sleepy voice broke into his prayers. "You'd better get up, hon."

"You're still feverish."

"I'll be okay, she replied groggily. "You need to be there. I wish I could help in some way."

"I'm sure you've already been a big help, and I know you would be appreciated, but you need to rest. I'll be back at eleven to pick you up." He reached over to kiss her forehead before getting out of bed. He went to the bathroom and came back with a cup of water. "You should take these." He handed her two pills for the fever as Sarah propped herself up on one elbow.

After swallowing the pills and handing the cup to Matt, Sarah lay back on the pillow.

"Go back to sleep. I'm going to jump in the shower."

With more than the usual effort, Matt forced himself to focus on the operation as Rene picked him up outside his apartment a half an hour later. When they had talked the evening before, hashing out the last of the plans for the operation, Rene had insisted on driving.

"You can focus on the op if I pick you up. We can make last minute plans."

"We have everything worked out already. What if I need to rush home?"

"I'll drive you home."

Matt had wondered if Rene suspected the same thing he did about the baby. In the end, Matt had acquiesced, grateful for having a supportive partner. Matt enjoyed working with Rene—he occasionally got on his nerves, but the man had a big heart. It would be tough to work with someone else if he and Sarah relocated.

They did not talk much as they drove into the city—it was a quick trip in the dark hours of early morning. Once at the Agency, Matt and Rene made their way to the bullpen, where Phillip was already staging his equipment. Matt had seen Phillip's van in the garage, parked near the security entrance. He imagined the inside of the vehicle was already prepared.

He walked up to his brother-in-law and regarded the headpieces set out for each agent, as well as all of the other equipment the agents would need for the operation. It would not be long before the team would assemble. He glanced at Phillip, who was looking like he had aged a little since the day before. "You get any sleep? You've done everything."

Dodging the question, Phillip merely replied, "I wanted to have everything ready when you got here so I could brief you before the rest of the team got here."

"Great. Shoot."

"First tell me how Sarah is doing."

"She's still feverish, but she was feeling better after a nap yesterday. She seemed okay this morning, other than the fever."

"Well, let's hope we have you home in time to take her to the doctor. Gil Barclay will want to be in on the debriefings."

That meant they could take longer—Matt said a quick prayer that he would not be detained before Phillip briefed him and Rene on all of the monitoring equipment. Now that he was through the preliminaries, Matt was anxious to get the operation underway. As he checked his watch, Larry Chen strolled into the bullpen, followed by Ryan Johnson and Manny Gonzales. All three men were dressed like Matt: entirely in black. Soon Grace Tanaka and several other agents also assembled for the briefing.

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An hour later, the teams were in position. The sky would be turning light by the time six o'clock rolled around, but for now everything was cloaked in darkness. While it was overcast, the storms forecast to threaten the D.C. area had not yet appeared.

Since Francine wanted Matt's team to make any arrests, they were stationed at ground level in various hiding places. NSA and Agency sharpshooters had them covered from the rooftops of the warehouse district.

Time seemed to pass slowly as the minutes ticked by. The team was on radio silence, and the agents were waiting silently as well. Matt and Rene were crouched behind a dumpster near the exchange site, camouflaged among bags of trash and damaged pallets that had been piled near the dumpster by an advance team during the night. The other agents were also hidden from view by similarly staged props. The Agency vehicles and Phillip in his van were parked inside a building just down the block.

At five minutes before six o'clock, a small paneled truck pulled up along the curb near Matt and Rene. A sedan pulled up on the opposite side of the street, its four occupants immediately emerging from the vehicle and crossing the street. A man who appeared to be Kazakh stepped out of the truck, scanning the area before motioning to the others in the vehicle that all was clear. Recognizing Sergey as he stood on the sidewalk, Matt could see that the others were keeping an eye on him.

"Let's see the cash. The deal has to be done in less than five minutes or it's a no go." The leader of the foursome of Guatemalans kept his distance from the Kazakhs, but both groups of men were close enough to keep their voices low. Rene angled the mic on his long-range listening and recording device so it would pick up their voices.

One of the Kazakhs replied, "We have the money, but we want to see the weapons first. You came in a car."

A member of the Guatemalan group waved his flashlight down the street. The sound of a truck starting up could be heard in the distance. Soon it was rumbling to a stop nearby, its headlights off.

In less than a minute, the Kazakhs were examining a military rifle, and the leader of the Guatemalans was demanding that the Kazakhs pay their money. Just as the money was exchanged, searchlights positioned on the building surrounding the site flared to life.

Rene called out in an authoritative voice, "United States agents. Put your hands in the air and lay flat on your stomachs. You with the weapon. Lay it down slowly first."

The Guatemalans and Kazakhs were slow to respond, instead looking around for the source of the voice, their weapons at the ready. When one of the NSA sharpshooters pinged a bullet off the wall above their heads, the men finally complied. The team of Agency operatives moved in to make their arrests, several NSA agents coming to their assistance.

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Matt tried in vain to remember who had said that they hoped the debriefings would be short, but he was distracted by yet another question as the debriefing team took down their notes. He glanced at the watch on his wrist. It was going on ten o'clock. He still had time to get home to Sarah and take her to the doctor, but only if the debriefings ended soon.

Sergey's fate was still up in the air. It was imperative that the debriefings be thorough and all evidence be properly logged, or he would be deported along with his "team." Matt had heard that the other Kazakhs suspected Sergey of being the leak that caused their arrest and there was no doubt they would be ready for revenge. For now, Sergey would be held in a safe house under lock and key.

Sighing, Matt sat back and listened as yet another question was directed his way.

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A persistent buzzing accosted Sarah's ears. Her head was throbbing. She needed to stop the sound. Opening her eyes, she knew that it was her phone's alarm clock, signaling that it was time to get up. Matt would be home in an hour, or Jennifer and Amy would be arriving to take her to the doctor. As much as Sarah loved her sisters-in-law, she could not help but wish it would be Matt.

As she reached for the phone, she was assailed by painful cramping low in her abdomen. Now her head was pounding. Breathing through the cramp as the alarm continued its persistent buzzing, she vowed that she would change the alarm sound on her phone as soon as she had the chance. When the cramp eased, she fumbled for her phone and turned off the alarm. Oh. I missed a call from Mom.

Now that her mind was fully awake, Sarah noticed that something else was wrong. She slid carefully to the edge of the bed and flipped back the covers. Just as she rose to her feet, another cramp came with a vengeance, and now Sarah could feel something wet between her legs. Bent at the waist, clutching her lower abdomen, she staggered to the bathroom.

Finally drawing enough courage to look down, Sarah cried out in alarm. She stood frozen for a moment, willing herself to be wrong, but it was abundantly clear that her instincts about the baby had been correct. Forcing herself to take the last few steps to the shower, Sarah stripped off her clothes as the water began to warm. Removing her pajama bottoms and panties last, once again she was overwhelmed with horror at the sight. There was so much blood. Sinking to a crouching position, she sobbed as she tried to rinse away the horrible evidence that something was terribly wrong with their baby.

The exertion of cleaning herself left Sarah feeling faint. She knew she needed to get to the phone, but the bleeding would not stop. She could not put Matt through the sight of that much blood, knowing what it meant. You can do this, Sarah. Stand up slowly, grab some towels…

As Sarah attempted to rise, her vision turned gray around the edges and another cramp came. Was it her imagination, or had she heard her cell phone ringing over the beating rain of the shower? She stopped and waited until the contraction passed, and then tried to stand again.

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In the bullpen, Matt held his phone to his ear and tried Sarah's number for the third time. Still no answer. He imagined she was in the shower and could not hear her phone ringing. If he left now, there would be just enough time to get home, help Sarah get out the door if she was not feeling well, and drive to the doctor's office. As he turned back to his desk so he could pack up and go home, he came face to face with Richard Wong.

"Please give my regards to Sarah. I hope she's feeling better quickly."

Matt had a good eye for reading people, and he saw right through Richard Wong's demeanor. Matt was worried about Sarah and not in the mood to beat around the bush. Clearly Wong had a burr in his saddle. He knew there was probably a scowl on his own face as he challenged, "Is there a problem, Richard? I need to get home."

"No, no trouble. But you know what they say, 'Ninety percent of life is just showing up.'"

Matt thought he might see red, but just then Rene appeared at his side. "Yeah, and the other ten percent is knowing how to work with people, Wong. You might try taking some interpersonal skills classes."

Now Matt was steering Rene out of the bullpen and away from trouble. He hissed, "You aren't helping Sarah if you antagonize him."

"I'm only speaking true words, man. That guy doesn't deserve to manage people."

Since he was not in the mood to think about Richard Wong, Matt tried Sarah's cell phone number again.

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Amanda let the phone ring, hoping Sarah would pick up before it went to voicemail again. She had called twice that day already: once when Sarah would have been driving to work, and once again late morning, when Sarah was likely to be out of her training class.

Not wishing to worry Lee, she had slipped into the hallway outside Emily's room to make the call. Now she felt a familiar hand on her back.

"Still no answer?"

"What do you mean?"

"You've been trying to call Sarah."

Lee's tone was matter-of-fact, but Amanda was nonplussed. She thought she had been doing a good job of keeping her concerns to herself. "I'm not going to try to figure out how you knew I was calling Sarah. But yes, there's still no answer."

"I wasn't trying to spy on you, Amanda, but I was wondering why our daughter hadn't called us. I know you were wondering the same thing."

"You are a perceptive man."

"That's what they pay me the big bucks for. You know you married a spy." He pulled her close, but Amanda knew that Lee was not truly in the mood for their usual teasing. She kissed his cheek and hugged him back before they turned to go into Emily's room once again.

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"Sarah?" Matt and Rene shook the rain off of their jackets as they came in the front door of the townhouse. There was not much time to spare. If they did not leave in the next five or ten minutes, they would be late. Matt turned to Rene. "Really, you don't have to stay. Patti is probably waiting for you."

"It's okay, man. She'll want to know how Sarah is doing, too." Rene glanced out the window at the thunderstorm. "Besides, it's raining cats and dogs out there." Just then a flash lit the room above them and a tremendous boom shook the townhouse.

As they neared the top of the stairs leading to the living room, Matt thought he heard water running. It was the shower upstairs. "Huh. She's still in the shower. Did she forget what time the appointment was, or lose track of time?"

"I hear the rain, man."

Shaking his head, Matt continued up the stairs to the bedroom. "I know it's the shower I hear."

Matt jogged the rest of the way up, while Rene stayed in the living room. He stepped over to the window to look outside at the storm, but he jumped when Matt hollered from upstairs.

"Oh, God! Sarah!" There was a pause. "Rene! Call 9-1-1!"

Rene was pulling out his cell phone as he ran up the flight of stairs, stopping in the doorway of the master bedroom. His kept his voice cool, for his partner's sake. "Tell me what's going on, Matt."

Matt's reply was anguished. "She's lost a lot of blood. It's the baby."

In the bathroom, just out of sight of Rene, Matt was frantically trying to help his wife. Coming to the open door of the bathroom, he had been shocked to find her slumped against the wall of the shower, cold water running over her. As he reached in to shut off the water, he had noticed bloody pajamas lying in a wet puddle in the corner of the shower, out of the stream of water. He could see that Sarah was still bleeding heavily. Oh, God! Not the baby. Not Sarah. Please, Lord!

"Cold." Over the quiet whirr of the bathroom fan and the noisier storm outside, Matt could just make out Sarah's voice. It was nearly a whisper.

"I'm here, sweetie. We'll get you warm." He reached into the linen cabinet and grabbed several towels, wrapping a large one around Sarah as he pulled her from the shower. She was deadweight as he struggled to get her out of the stall without hurting her. Despite his efforts, she cried out in pain.

"You shouldn't see me like this," Sarah whimpered.

"It's just me, sweetie. It's okay. I'm going to cover you up. Rene can't see you." Matt was doing his best to sound soothing, but he was not sure he had succeeded. He wrapped Sarah in the towels and began massaging her vigorously in an attempt to warm her. But she was unconscious again—her body was limp and unresponsive. He had to force down the feelings of panic that wanted to bubble up inside of him. "Rene! What's the ETA of the ambulance?"

Rene's voice came from just outside the doorway. "Remember all those sirens we heard on the way over? There's a pile up on the parkway—probably because of the storm. We'll be lucky if it's a half an hour. I told them I'd drive you. I'm using NEST authorization. The emergency room is going to be crazy."

"Don't violate any procedures. I'll take her in my car."

"I'll drive you both. You'd get in an accident in your frame of mind."

"Get me some of my sweats. I can't take her outside wrapped in towels."

Rene's face appeared in the doorway. "Where?"

"Bottom drawer of the dresser on the right."

Matt continued to rub Sarah down with the towels, listening to Rene open and close a couple of drawers. He reappeared in the doorway and tossed the sweats to Matt. Next came a clean shirt to replace the one Matt was wearing. It was soaked through from the shower.

Dressing an unconscious woman was difficult. Eventually Matt was able to work his large clothes onto her slender body, using a towel as a sort of bandage. He called to Rene again. "Get the blanket off the bed—there's a throw—probably buried under the comforter—at the foot of the bed."

Soon, with Rene's help, Matt was carrying Sarah down the stairs and out of the townhouse. Covered with the throw, she was still unconscious, her head resting heavily against Matt's shoulder.

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It was cold. Terribly cold. Why did she go out in the rain with no raincoat? Right now she felt as if she would never be warm again. The water had been warm at first, almost soothing, but it was not enough to take away the terrible pain low in her abdomen. Oh, she wanted Matt. He would come for her. He always did. But her parents would know just what to say to make her feel better. It was comforting to think about her father. Daddy is gruff with other people sometimes, but he isn't with me. He'll give me a hug and let me cuddle up next to him on the couch so we can watch one of our favorite movies together. I'm so cold.

Sarah made a feeble attempt to move, but her arms were restricted. Someone was holding her close, and it felt as if they were in a car—not the shower. She tried to move again.

"Just relax, sweetie. I've got you. We need to keep the blanket wrapped around you."

A familiar voice jerked her out of the half-dream. It was Matt. He had come for her. But that meant he knew. Oh no! She tried to sob, but the tears wouldn't come. "It hurts so much," she whimpered.

"We're almost to the hospital."

"I'm so sorry." Sarah was not sure Matt could even hear her. It was hard to talk. She could not stay awake.

Now he was whispering in her ear, his voice soft and soothing, but desperate, too. He sounded sad. "Stay with me, Sarah. I love you."

She just wanted to sleep. But she forced herself to say the words. "Sparrow. Love you."